Chapter 39 Dark Chocolate Dreams #2
I sipped my water rather than replying. Atlas watched me for several painful seconds, and then sighed.
“You managed to talk Irina out of Tickle, I see.”
I coughed as I sucked icy water halfway down my windpipe. Atlas watched me with amusement as I pounded on my chest until I was finally able to take a proper breath again.
“I did what?” I gasped, eyes watering.
Atlas cocked an eyebrow. “She disabled her Tickle account. I assumed it had been an ongoing discussion since I raised my concerns with you … did you not know?”
I schooled my features into passivity. “No, I knew,” I lied woodenly. “But I was shocked that you thought I’d had something to do with it. What Irina does with her Tickle account is totally her choice. I don’t discuss it with her.”
What had happened to make her shut it down? I had deliberately avoided her Tickle account since the night we’d slept together. The thought of watching her, after having had her, felt grossly inappropriate.
Nausea swirled in my stomach, and I longed to race into my bedroom, log into the back end of Tickle and work out when it had happened. To try and decipher what it meant.
But I couldn’t do that until Atlas left, or he would immediately gloat that he’d known before I did.
“How did you know?” I asked. “Do you keep tabs on my wife’s content?”
Atlas winked over the top of his water glass. “She’s very good at what she does. But you’d know that, wouldn’t you? You’re getting the front-row, hands-on experience.”
My stressed-out brain snapped. “That’s enough!”
Atlas’s smile froze. “I’m sorry?”
I snatched the glass from him, tipping the remaining water into the sink. “You are not welcome to come into my home and make remarks about my wife and our sex life.”
“Oh, so there is a sex life? You finally fucked Cadence out of your system! Good work, bro!” He raised his hand in what I assumed was a request for a high five. I stared at him, mouth agape.
“You haven’t fucked her?” he asked, his hand dropping.
“What I do when I’m in bed with my wife is none of your business. You need to leave. You have a very early flight and lots of extremely important parties to get drunk at.”
I was being unfair, but everything he said struck such a nerve, and I was already on edge for so many reasons that I couldn’t stop myself.
Atlas’s eyes went steely, but he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, I can see that I’ve hit a bit too close to home. My apologies, I thought we’d been friends long enough that engaging in a bit of locker-room banter wouldn’t be all that terrible. I forgot I was talking to Mr Prude.”
“I’ll see you out.” Lucian emerged at the bottom of the stairs, and I turned, finding his eyes locked on Atlas, mouth a hard line.
Atlas scoffed but headed for the stairs. “See ya, Chewy.”
As soon as their footsteps faded, I surged out of the kitchen, breathing hard as I headed for my computer. It took less than thirty seconds to get into the back end and scan through the activity on Ri’s account.
The date she’d turned it to private matched the last night she’d stayed with Kat. I frowned, scrubbing at my face. That next morning, she’d been very emotional and had asked to know how her visa application was going.
And then that evening, she’d deleted the account entirely.
I’d suspected there was something else she wasn’t telling me. And clearly it was serious enough to have made her delete her account. Had someone sent her threatening messages? My algorithm was very good at maintaining our community standards when it came to private messages, but I was only human.
I sifted through her interactions over the days leading up to her setting her account to private. I came up empty-handed.
“Meow?”
I glanced down to find both cats staring plaintively at me. “Are your food bowls empty?” I asked.
Trink pawed at my leg, and Abs gave a distressed little sound. I took a slow, deep breath and went to grab my vape. Anyone who said cats couldn’t sense their owner’s emotions were lying. Cats sensed everything; it was just that most of them didn’t care enough to show concern.
I took a long inhale on my vape and tried to let my mind go blank, just for a few moments. Trink jumped up into my lap. I scratched her head absently.
I could call Ri and ask her what had happened to make her shut her account down.
But that felt like a huge invasion of her privacy.
I thought we’d gotten to a place where she could trust me with the things she wanted to share.
She’d told me about her uncle, and her parents, and her mother’s death, after all.
But I wasn’t entitled to her secrets. Not unless she wanted to share them with me. I wanted her to want to share them with me … and calling her up asking penetrating questions was not the way to encourage that.
Abs rubbed his squishy face against my leg, and I reached down to pat his fluffy backside. It was probably better that I didn’t call her at all. I was too emotional. It wouldn’t do her or myself any favours.
But the urge to connect with her in some way was overwhelming. So, I compromised.
Henry: I hope Kat is feeling ok? I’m sure you’re an excellent nurse. I’ve been wondering what kind of dark chocolate I should be stocking the pantry with
I sat back, breathing in another dose from my vape to stop myself from text-bombing her. My fingers itched towards the phone, and I squeezed them into a fist, nails digging into my palm until my phone pinged.
Irina: I’m a very bossy nurse, apparently
Irina: As for chocolate, the darker the better. I like it bitter, like my coffee. And with nuts
Irina: Roasted almonds are my favourite
Irina: Although I’d happily eat dark chocolate off your nuts any time you asked me to, Hubby
I groaned. It had been weeks since we’d engaged in anything even remotely resembling flirtation. Since we’d slept together. My heart fluttered, and I wondered how I would feel about having melted chocolate drizzled over my naked groin … having Ri licking it off me.
Turns out, I felt quite enthusiastic about it.
Henry: I’ll be sure to purchase extra … to keep in the bedside drawer
I held my breath, waiting to see how she responded, while Trink stood from my lap and leapt away, glaring over her shoulder at me.
Apparently, erections were not a comfortable sleeping spot for a cat.
Irina:
Irina: Kat’s getting annoyed that I’m ‘distracted’, so I’d better go. Sleep well, Hubby
Henry: Good night, Catnip xx
I set my phone down, worked up for a completely different reason now. I shooed the cats out of the room, slamming the door behind them before I dragged my jeans and boxer briefs down and collapsed back into my desk chair, taking myself in hand.
I pictured her mouth, wrapping around the tip of me, slowly sliding those warm, wet lips down my length …
I was painfully aroused, and I usually did this in the bathroom where I could make use of body lotion … but I was desperate, so I spat into my palm and stroked.
I imagined her moaning around me, the sound vibrating through nerve endings as I pumped faster, free hand gripping the armrest, neck tensing.
Her tongue would press along the ridge that spanned the underside of me, and when she came up, she would lick around the head, teasing me, before taking me deep again.
My jaw tightened, holding in the groan as I thrust into my fist, heat exploding out from deep within. Eyes squeezed shut, I pictured her, pumping the base of me with her fist as I tipped over the edge.
In my imagination, she swallowed everything I gave her.
In reality, I opened my eyes, panting and sweaty, my stomach and thighs sticky.
I took off my glasses and set them on the desk before shuffling to the ensuite and dumping all my clothes into the hamper. In the shower, I washed away the remnants of my frantic masturbation.
Why had I not asked her … pleaded with her … begged her on my knees to take me in her mouth on the one night it was allowed? Now I would never know how much better she would be in reality.
Because I knew she would be better. The reality of her was in all ways superior to anything I could dream.
You bent the rules once … what’s one more time?
I stepped out of the shower and towelled myself dry with more vigour than the act required. I couldn’t do it again. I was barely hanging on by a thread now, and everything felt strange with her since we’d done it.
But what if …
No! I couldn’t let myself think that way. She didn’t need sex from me. She needed a friend, a trustworthy confidante, a partner in crime. Not a bed partner.
I forced myself out into the living room, had a conversation with Josie about the preparedness of the Girl on Fire for sailing tomorrow, and the only thing I remembered about it was asking her to ensure there was dark chocolate—with and without almonds—and tampons stocked before the morning.
I made myself eat some toast, while Lucian watched on, munching on a takeaway burger and grimacing at me worriedly.
Then I took myself to bed, and after tossing and turning enough that both cats removed themselves from the bedroom in protest, I finally fell asleep.
I was woken by my phone ringing. I sat up, blinking in the bright sunlight. How late had I slept?
Reaching for my phone, I squinted at the screen, but without my glasses I couldn’t work out who was calling. I’d usually let it go to voicemail to screen the call, but the lurching feeling in my gut had me swiping to answer.
“Hello?” I rasped, my mouth fuzzy from sleep.
“Henry?” Ri’s voice was a barely-there breath. I jerked upright, shoving the covers off my legs. My heart battered painfully against my ribs.
“Catnip? What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I’ve been arrested.”