Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
A French No Fuck You Very Much
Raf
Witnessing everyone, including your secret fuck buddy, fall under the spell of the most infuriating woman you’ve ever met is a new kind of torture.
The Little Devil has been part of our group for like five seconds, and already she’s got inside jokes with both my brothers, and Juliette is captivated with her sassy snark at my expense, throwing out invites to have cocktails at Le Sip with her like confetti.
Am I the only sane one? Can’t they see she’s trouble with a capital T?
Immature with a complete inability to keep her inside thoughts…
well…inside?! Except there’s also no denying her intoxicating charisma, one that people simply gravitate to.
Like my brothers, my sister and her posse, my best friend, and my damn fuck buddy.
Even my body is betraying me, the thrum of blood coursing through me that I want to label as fury when I know full well it’s frustration.
The bitter burn of sexual frustration caused by a woman I can’t even stand!
It’s this exact afterthought that has me seeking out the French siren to follow through on my plan to fuck away this need pulsing through me. It’s been a while, and I am a hot-blooded man who needs a release.
This is how I find myself slipping away from the table before we’re due to leave to head to the exhibition and cornering Juliette in the dark hallway leading from the bathrooms on her way back to the main floor.
“There you are,” I say as I gently take her by the crook of the arm and pull her into the shadowy hallway before tugging her closer. She’s only a little shorter than me, so we’re almost eye to eye when she’s in heels.
“Hey, Big Bad Raf,” she teases, pulling back so she can look me square in the face.
I huff. “Please don’t remind me I have to spend my evening with the most annoying woman I’ve ever met.”
“Annoying? Is that what we’re calling these…” She waves her hand around my face. “These feelings you have for her.”
“You know I don’t do feelings, sweetheart. Just fucking,” I say as I tug her closer once more and try to kiss her neck.
“And you’re very good.” She pauses. “At the fucking,” she clarifies, her French accent making the word sound so filthy yet erotic. “But not so good at hiding your big feelings.”
I frown. “You have no idea how that Little Devil has terrorized me today. In fact, it’s been from the first moment I met her a month ago.”
“She’s good for you.”
“I have no interest in her. I like what we have. Uncomplicated. Easy.”
“Hmmm,” she hums. “A month. About the same amount of time since you last held up your end of our little arrangement.”
She drags her hands down the front of my chest, bringing her face closer, her lips almost touching mine. I go to close the gap so we can finally get to the good part when her breathy voice pierces through my ears.
“Raf, I’m all for fuck buddies, and I’ve enjoyed every single moment of our arrangement.
” She smiles sultrily. “But I won’t be a hole you bury yourself in so you can try to fuck away your attraction for another woman.
You can pretend all you want that love and relationships aren’t for you.
But I don’t think I’m—this—is for you any longer either. ”
A clanging of something dropping to the floor breaks the tension, and when I look up, piercing green eyes penetrate mine, like they would burn a hole in me if they could.
Chiara. She doesn’t say a word as she slowly retrieves the lipstick she dropped, eyes still on me.
I look to Juliette, who is now also looking in Chiara’s direction.
She gives her a soft knowing smile before she leans in and places a kiss to each of my cheeks.
“You deserve happiness, Raf. Friends, just no benefits.”
With that, she saunters away, squeezing Chiara on the arm as she passes her and whispering something that I can’t hear but manages to pull a faint smile from the devil herself.
When Juliette is out of earshot, Chiara lifts her chin defiantly. “I guess you’re in the market for a new fuck buddy, old man. Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll take pity on you.”
And then she turns and struts back towards our group, her tight, petite curves taunting me just as much as her parting jibe.