Chapter 65
Cal
‘Want to hear something funny?’ I ask. In some feat of Herculean post-orgasmic strength, I managed to haul us both off the carpet and up the bed so we’re curled into each other under Aida’s duvet, gazing at each other like a just-fucked mutual appreciation society meeting for two, if that’s a thing.
‘Always.’
‘You’ll laugh.’
‘Lorna Davison called my show “unseemly and staggeringly ill judged”. I think I deserve a laugh today, don’t you?’
‘Fair enough.’ I take a moment to run a featherlight fingertip over the shell of her ear. ‘So, when Gen pitched me this—you—I had a strategy for how I was going to, you know, tackle you.’
Her eyebrows wing up in twin crescents of amusement. Here we go.
‘Tackle me? Go on. I can’t wait to hear this.’
I clear my throat. ‘Yeah. I called it dirty-lite.’
She bursts out laughing. ‘Meaning?’
‘I’m sure you’re smart enough to work it out.’
‘I know I’m smart enough, but I’d enjoy hearing you explain it far more.’
‘Okay, so…’ I sigh. ‘It means what it says. Dirty, but not too dirty, you know? A little dirty talk, a little good girl…’ I tail off, embarrassed.
‘Wow. So you blew right through that assignment, and then some.’ She reaches for me under the covers and snuggles closer.
‘That’s a fair assessment, yeah.’
‘So was showing up at my house in a mask with a rope and making me blow you part of the dirty-lite thing?’
‘Erm, nope.’
‘Got it. And going down on me during an orgy and then cuffing me to a bed?’
‘Not quite.’
Her face lights up in a huge grin. ‘Lucky I’m a good sport, as you guys say, right?’
‘You mean, lucky you’re a dirty little ho who likes it good and rough?’ I grit out, rolling her onto her back and climbing on top of her.
‘That too,’ she concedes with a smirk.
‘It’s safe to say, Ms Russell, that I spectacularly underestimated you,’ I tell her, pinning her arms above her head.
Her dark hair is a lustrous halo on the pillow.
Her eyes are shining and, for now, the faint chants outside are forgotten.
It seems that, by some happy miracle, I’ve given her precisely what she needed this morning.
‘Many a man has done that, Mr Sinclair, and none of them had a happy ending,’ she tells me with a smile.
‘Except for me,’ I insist. ‘I was stupid enough to underestimate you and I’ve had lots of happy endings. And, if I haven’t made you too sore, I think I’m about ready for another.’
‘Go for it, but none of that dirty-lite shit,’ she tells me. ‘Have a little self respect and give it to me like a man.’
I rear up above her, not missing the hitch in her breath as she drags her gaze down my body to where I’m fully hard again.
Game fucking on.