18. Felix
EIGHTEEN
FELIX
After last night, I feel like such a slut. And I like it.
I don’t know what it is. Sex with Mark was…nice but a chore. After I started my transition it became a thing I despised, because he despised me. I’ve never truly experienced sex the way I have with Hayworth. It was a revelation. A transformation. It felt good.
Even though we stuck to the basic stuff—i.e. blowjobs—it didn’t feel basic. It didn’t even feel like anything was missing. Just mutual exchange of favors and pleasure.
It’s no wonder I can’t focus this morning. A regular old contemporary romance cover that should take me no less than a couple of hours to get into shape, is still looking shoddy and unfinished by lunch time.
All I can do is keep going back to last night and relive it. My body reacts to the memories as if everything is happening in real time, I can’t help but touch myself.
I undo the button of my jeans and slip my hand inside and lean back against my desk chair, closing my eyes and letting Hayworth claim me again.
I trap my cock between two fingers and rub him over and over. It makes me harder and I throb as the sensation travels down my body all the way to my toes.
The more I keep going the more I gasp until I allow myself release. It reverberates through me like a rhythm to an earworm of a song that gets more addictive with each play.
I’ve never been like this. I’ve been horny but not touch-myself-in-the-middle-of-the-day horny and I can’t say I don’t like it. Every day since my transition I’ve been finding out things about myself I would never have known otherwise, whether bad—like Mark’s true feelings—or good—like last night’s revelation.
After a visit to the bathroom to clean myself and wash my hands I go back to my cover but I still can’t focus.
I get an itch. An itch for something I’ve been struggling with for a long time.
I open a blank Word document and without thinking too much about it just start typing and typing and typing until my word vomit turns into the filthiest sex scene I’ve ever come across.
And naturally the only thing that gets me out of my laser-sharp focus is the sound of my phone blooping.
I shake my head, save the scene and reach for my cell to read my text.
Hayworth:
Last night was fluffing awesome. When are we doing it again?
I hesitate a bit before I respond. I don’t want to encourage him, but at the same time I want to get my fill of this newfound thirst for dick.
Felix:
It really was. I don’t know when I can do this again. I need to check with Cheyenne.
His response comes so ridiculously fast it makes me think either he’s dictating the message or he was already typing it before I replied.
Hayworth:
Well, hurry up. I can’t wait to fuck you.
And there it goes again. My cock that pulses at the mere thought of Hayworth naked before me.
I might be in trouble.
Felix:
What if I want to fuck you??
Hayworth:
That can easily be arra nged.
His reply sends me reeling into research I’d abandoned years ago when Mark had refused to even contemplate the idea of taking it up the ass. But if Hayworth is willing…
Then I’ve got some shopping to do.
But first…
“Fuck, I’m late again,” I say when I check the time and scramble to get everything in order so I can pick up the girls.
I’m starting to think it’s not the world making me constantly late but I’m a naturally late person but if I admit that, I admit defeat, so…no, it’s everyone else making me late all the time . This time I can confidently blame Hayworth. All of Hayworth.
“How was school?” I ask when they get in the car and I drive away before the school monitor throws any shade my way.
“It was good. It was school,” Elsa says.
“Elsa won a drawing contest,” Arya says.
I look at my eldest through the rearview. “That’s amazing, sweetie. Well done.”
Elsa rolls her eyes and she’s never reminded me more of myself than now.
Le sigh. The Springs and their inability to take a compliment.
“Can we stop by Special Blend?” she asks and Arya claps in agreement.
“Really? I still have work to do.”
“Please, Poppy!” Elsa replies, starting a cacophony of begging no parent can refuse if only to make it stop.
“Hey,” I say to Caspian but the girls drag me deeper inside before I can utter another word.
Caspian follows me with his gaze but he’s busy with a customer so he can’t come to my rescue.
They stop at the back of the café, the bookstore side where Caspian has set up a small reading nook, but it’s not books the girls are interested in. It’s the Valentine-themed setup in front of the bookcases that has their interest.
“What is this?” I ask them and they give me an empty pink box as if it’s the most important thing in the world.
“You need to find a gift for Hayworth and put it in here,” Elsa says.
“Huh?” I turn to read the sign to fill in the blanks.
Secret Admirer Gift Exchange. Do you have a secret or not-so secret crush? Do you want to show them they’re loved? Put your special gift in the box and we’ll deliver it to them anonymously on Valentine’s Day.
“Come on. You have to buy something nice for him.” Arya pokes at me.
“It’s a little too early to be buying gifts for each other.”
“No it’s not,” Elsa says. “A gift is always nice.”
I beg to differ. Especially when it has a love meaning attached to it like this whole project but that’s not for them to worry about.
“Okay, okay. I’ll see what I can find.”
At the very least it’s something I can do with them to keep them entertained and invested in this fake date. Besides, if we’re going to fake date I’m sure he can get a little present and not have it mean anything.
“We’ll go to Montpelier at the weekend and get something nice for him, okay?”
They both cheer and jump at me with hugs and unrestrained joy and it’s hard to resist laughing too.
After my reassurances they rush to Caspian to order their drinks, cutting in line as if they’ve been raised in a barn, and I have to apologize to everyone waiting. Thankfully Maplewood is full of nice people. If they’d done that in California, I would have gotten plenty of dirty looks, if not something far more aggressive.
As the girls wait for their drinks, which I’ve instructed Caspian to make after he’s served his line, I peruse the books in the bookstore. It’s been a while since I’ve bought a physical book. I had to leave a lot of stuff behind when we moved here and I think it’s about time I rebuild my library.
It’s not a big selection of books but it’s big enough to have some classics as well as some new releases but it’s one book that catches my eye.
An edition of Pride and Prejudice I’ve not seen before. It’s got an illustrated cover of flowers composed around the ornamental typography and I can’t resist. I have to buy it. I’m a cover designer after all. I love a good cover, especially for a classic I adore.
I sit at the table and leaf through the book as the girls whip their dolls out and go to play with them on the bookstore side when Caspian stops at the table to clear it and he raises an eyebrow.
“Are you buying that?”
“Oh my God. Yes. Of course.” I sit up and Caspian laughs.
“I’m just kidding. Do you like Pride and Prejudice ?”
“I love it. It’s like the first genre romance. How can I not?”
Caspian puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head. “I keep forgetting you love romance lately.”
“What?” I ask. “Why?”
“I don’t know. You love romance yet you’re dating this Hayworth guy.” He shrugs.
“Why is that surprising?”
I see his reputation has reached even Caspian’s ears but I guess that was inevitable considering he’s all Maplewood Matters writes about these days for no apparent reason.
Even I’ve made it into today’s post—the co-conspirator who ruined cooking class. At least they didn’t name me, although considering the favor I did to all those poor couples who signed up to make the most basic of recipes, I would love some of the credit for at least making it entertaining.
“Come on. Everyone knows he’s against love.”
“And?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Just saying. It doesn’t seem likely he’ll fall in love.”
“Who says I want him to?” I smirk.
It’s Caspian’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Then what are you doing with him?”
“What? Is a boy not allowed to eat anymore?” I say and Caspian bursts into laughter.
But I find nothing funny about my statement, nor the way it makes me feel just thinking of being naked with Hayworth again.