Chapter 19
Julian
“This property is eighty square meters, with a fully refurbished kitchen and a rooftop patio. We can head up to see that.”
As Delia drones on about the properties, the third one we’ve seen today, I am spinning in my mind. When the three of us woke up this morning, everything felt perfect. The scales were balanced.
But then Freya showed up and gave Archer that kiss, and it’s been spiraling in my head ever since. Am I the outsider? The third? The extra?
Could they be happy without me?
As I watch Freya, who’s gotten more comfortable as the day has progressed, ask questions of Delia with Archer by her side, I have this gnawing, buzzing itch to do something growing under my skin.
“You okay?” Archer asks, clearly noticing my dour mood.
I shrug in response, my eyes not leaving Freya as she scopes out the place.
“You know she didn’t mean anything by it,” he says.
“No, I don’t know that.”
As I stare through the dusty window of the empty restaurant, Archer appears behind me. His hand strokes my back, and it’s comforting but doesn’t quite settle this feeling inside me.
“You’re not the third wheel,” he whispers, his lips soft against my ear.
“Not to you I’m not,” I reply, turning to stare at him.
For a moment, we gaze at each other, only inches between us.
Normally in situations like this, I would step back—literally and figuratively. I’d give them space and bow out to save face. I’d rather be the one walking away than the one left behind.
Now, because of them, I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to crawl back into the shadows and try to prove my superiority by being alone and miserable.
I understand that Freya is unaccustomed to being with two people in public. I am too. But I want her to know that she is with me as much as she is with Archer.
“You know,” he whispers, wiping a strand of hair from my forehead, “if it were me, I’d show her.”
“Show her what?” I mumble.
“Who she belongs to.”
“You sound like a caveman,” I tease. “Besides, it’s been two weeks, Arch.”
“So?”
When I don’t respond, he slides a large hand around my throat, pulling me closer until our lips are nearly touching. I don’t fight the control. I surrender to it.
“You don’t think you belong to me after only two weeks? You belonged to me that first night we met.”
Heat courses down my spine, and my cock hardens inside my slacks. And deep down, I know he’s right. I do belong to him.
And I want Freya to know I feel the same about her too.
I want to show her.
Heels click on the floor, the sound coming toward us, so Archer releases my throat, and I step away.
Freya is still meandering around the restaurant, through the kitchen and the rest of the back side of the property.
A phone rings, and Delia smiles at me and Archer as she takes the call, excusing herself for a moment.
With the perfect opportunity, I take off into the property to find Freya. She’s checking out the cabinets in the long kitchen as I quickly crowd her against the walk-in freezer door.
She lets out a yelp before I cover her mouth and spin her toward me. With a hand around her throat, gently squeezing the sides of her neck, I crash my lips against hers.
After a moment of hesitation, she melts into the kiss. Her tongue glides against mine, her hands gripping my coat by the lapels.
When I start to unbutton her pants, she gasps and tries to push me away. “What are you doing?”
In the distance, Delia’s voice echoes through the empty restaurant. She’s still up front, but she’d only have to walk through the kitchen and make a right to find us back here.
“I’m proving it to you,” I reply, my voice in a harsh whisper. Quickly unzipping her pants, I shove my hand in and feel the bare lips of her pussy.
She gasps, clinging to my body for support. “Proving what?”
“That you’re mine,” I mutter against her mouth.
She stares into my eyes, hers dilated with surprise and a hint of fear.
“She could walk in any second, Freya. Tell me to stop.” My finger curls, sliding inside her as her eyes roll and her hips tilt.
“Don’t stop.”
She soaks my hand in a second, the flooding sensation making my cock twitch and pulse with need.
Putting my lips near her ear, I growl, “Tell me how much you want this.”
“Yes,” she breathes on a gasp. Her hips are thrusting now, chasing the pleasure of my hand. “I want this.”
Her cunt throbs around my finger, and as much as I’d like to feel her come, I need to feel that perfect mouth again.
“On your knees,” I grunt as I work open my own zipper.
Freya hesitates, looking at the door of the kitchen with fear behind her eyes.
“This was your fantasy, wasn’t it? Fucking where we shouldn’t.”
When our eyes meet again, there’s a sparkle of excitement in hers.
Then, with her bottom lip pinched between her teeth, she grins devilishly at me and drops to the floor.
Within seconds, I have my cock out, and she’s pulling it into her mouth.
There is no gentle foreplay or working up to it.
She’s sucking me into her throat, slathering up my length with saliva as I hit the back of her mouth.
I have her pinned between the freezer door and my body.
Behind me, I hear heavy footsteps walking through the kitchen, and I turn my head to find Archer staring at us with lust in his eyes.
But Freya doesn’t stop. When she sucks hard on the tip of my dick, my eyes roll, and I thrust my hips forward, fucking her mouth.
Turning my attention back to her, I stare into her eyes as she works my shaft.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
The exhilaration of possibly being caught.
The connection between us, knowing she is offering herself to me and me to her.
That she wants this too. This is a fantasy for both of us.
I’m so close already, my balls tightening and my body buzzing. In the distance, I hear Delia end her call, and I start to panic that we only have seconds before we’re caught.
Archer’s feet scuff across the floor quickly as he jogs to the front of the restaurant. His voice is muffled and distant as he says, “You said there was a rooftop patio? Can I see it?”
“Sure!” she replies enthusiastically. “What about the others?”
“Uh…they’re talking. They’ll meet us up there,” Archer says, covering for us.
Their footsteps retreat up a set of stairs, out of sight, and I’m so overcome by the intensity of the moment that the pleasure builds into a quick and powerful orgasm.
“I’m coming,” I say in a raspy whisper, ready to pull out and let my release land somewhere else.
Freya pops her mouth off and strokes me through my climax, ready to accept with her tongue out and my cock aimed right at her mouth. The sight is filthy and makes it nearly impossible to keep quiet as pleasure rocks me from my head to my toes.
“Fuck,” I groan as the jets of cum land on her mouth and then on her cheek and forehead and just under her eye. She stares up at me with white stains splattered all over her skin.
Suddenly, I’m hit with a freight train of laughter as everything strikes me at once. We just did that. Her reaction is the same, giggles spilling out of her mouth as she waits for me to grab something and clean her up.
There are footsteps above us and the distant sound of voices as I quickly search the empty kitchen for something, anything to clean up the mess I left on Freya’s face.
By some grace of God, I find an unopened package of kitchen towels wrapped in plastic in one of the cabinets.
I break it open frantically and pull out a towel.
Taking it back to Freya, I find her kneeling where I left her.
Delicately, I wipe the mess away before kissing each spot with adoration.
“You’re incredible,” I say.
“That was incredible,” she replies. “I’m glad you did that.”
“I owe you one,” I say, pulling her to her feet.
She grins up at me softly. “You don’t owe me anything, Julian.” With her hand on my face, she reaches up onto her tiptoes and kisses me on the lips. “I like the idea of being yours.”
My chest swells so much, I worry for a second that I’m having a heart attack. Is this love? This feeling for her is like nothing I’ve felt before. This feeling of connection, possession, worship is more powerful than I ever thought love would feel.
“Good,” I reply before kissing her again. It’s the only lousy, stupid word I can manage when there are a thousand more swirling around in my mind that would be far more appropriate for this moment.
“Let’s get upstairs,” she adds, tossing the dirty rag in the corner of the kitchen and grabbing my hand to drag me toward the stairs.
When we reach the rooftop, Delia and Archer are discussing something and looking as if they’re impatiently waiting for us. Knowing that he covered for us makes me grin, and it’s really not like me to smile so much.
“Sorry about that,” Freya says as she rushes to his side. He puts an arm around her shoulder to keep her warm as Delia explains all the details of the patio. I don’t take in a word. I’m still riding a postorgasmic high.
When Archer glances over at Freya on his side, his eyes focus a moment too long on her hairline. Then in a quick motion, he wipes a thumb across her earlobe, as if he’s cleaning up something I might have missed.
I snicker to myself, having to turn away from the group to keep from laughing too hard. This can’t possibly be what love feels like, but if it’s not love, then what else could possibly explain this feeling, because I’ve never been happier in my life.
And I really don’t want to let it go.
Having to leave Freya and Archer after the fourth restaurant we toured was the last thing I wanted to do, but we have a meeting at the club for an upcoming event.
I can hardly focus during the entire thing.
My mind is still in that restaurant, staring down at Freya on her knees.
More than once, the team notices my lack of attention on the task at hand, but I play it off with aloof petulance.