Chapter 19 #2
“I don’t see who else it could’ve been. He’s the one with the motive. He didn’t want one of his boybanders getting into a relationship with a normie. He wanted to control your images.”
“I’m gonna find out and reclaim that for us.” He loosened his hold and stroked the back of my hand. “Why would you have to prove that you’re a team player? Have you gone rogue before?”
I sipped in a sharp breath. “I have my own ideas about promotion that doesn’t always match that of 92 West, so I guess you could say I’m problematic at times. It’s why I’m still an assistant.”
“I’m shocked.” He chuckled. “Can you just say fuck it and quit? I mean, your old man has money if you need it. Hell, I have money if you need it.”
“Ugh, failing at my job and asking my father for money would be worse than 50,000 comments on social media calling me a slut, and it would open the door to his controlling behavior.”
“Nobody’s calling you a slut...are they?”
Conor obviously hadn’t been reading the posts.
“No, no. I’m just kidding.”
His fingers tickled my wrist. “If you were a slut, you’d crawl into my bunk up here and let me fuck you senseless.”
Just the toying of my fingers and hand made me wet. His suggestion curled my toes and sent my heart racing. “What is it with you, Con? Can you only get hard in a bus?”
“Yeah, a bus with you in it. Something about the vibration. Can you feel it? Touch yourself and let me know.”
If anyone else up here was awake, could they hear our whispers?
“Are you wet for me?” Conor didn’t care.
“I...”
“Touch yourself, Noelle.”
When Conor Flynn talked, I listened. I slipped my hand into my panties and ran two fingers along my slick pussy. “Yesss.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, I’m wet...for you.”
“Prove it.”
“I can’t come up there, Con.”
“You can come anywhere I tell you to come.” His mattress squealed. “But for now, give me the hand you used to touch your pussy.”
I swallowed, touched myself again for more proof, and stretched my arm toward his bunk. He encircled my wrist with his fingers. Then his head appeared over the side of the bed, and I gasped.
He pressed my fingers against his nose, closing his eyes. I nearly passed out when he sucked them into his mouth.
“I’m so fucking hard now, you’re gonna have to make things right.”
“This is crazy.” I pressed my legs together.
“You’re right. I’m crazy for you, and people already think I’m a slut too, so drag your perfect arse up to my bed and let me ravish you.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the bus. Someone let out a snore, and the ice machine whirred, dislodging a piece of ice into the chute.
Throwing one leg over the side of my bed, I poked my head out of the curtain surrounding our bunk and looked up and down the aisle. Nobody stirred.
I hoisted myself into the top bunk, with Conor grabbing my arms and pulling me into his bed and against his chest.
“We’re gonna have to be...”
Hooking his fingers in the waistband of my pajama shorts, he yanked them down, along with my panties. Then he whipped off the sheet tucked around his waist to reveal his massive hard-on.
Why was Conor sleeping naked on the bus? Was everyone naked on this bus? I didn’t have more time to ponder that horrifying thought as Conor tickled my clit with his fingertip.
Before he could go any further, I curled up between his legs and ran my hand down the length of him. “Can I show you just how much of a slut I really am?”
“I’m counting on it, baby.”
I swirled my tongue around his head, and he reached up and grabbed the handrails above his bed, gritting his teeth. Conor was a noisy comer. I had no idea how he’d manage this without waking up the entire bus. And that would be very bad.
I engulfed his cock with my mouth—because I remembered he liked it rough down here—and he pumped his hips to nudge the back of my throat. I swallowed, and he groaned.
I tried to shush him around the cock in my mouth but ended up drooling all over him. He liked that because he reached down and grabbed my hair, his fingers digging into my scalp.
In a raspy whisper, he said, “Ride me.”
I straddled his hips. “You haven’t even kissed me yet.”
Wrapping his hands around my waist he pulled me down, and our lips met with a sizzle. I swept my tongue along his lower lips.
He pinched my bottom sending a ripple of desire down my spine. “You taste salty.”
“That’s your cum on my lips.”
“I want my cum somewhere else. I want my cock so deep inside you, we’re not gonna know where you end and where I begin.”
“I already have that feeling, even when you’re across the room.” I nipped at his lower lip and hovered above his erection.
“Hold on. I wanna feel you first.” He reached down and grabbing the base of his cock, he ran it up my slit, opening me for his entrance.
When I felt the tip at my opening, I raised my hips and lowered myself on him. He spread me wide, and I threw my head back, careful not to whack it against the ceiling of the bus.
He fingered my clit, trapped between our two bodies, and my blood thickened, moving at a sultry pace through my veins. He timed his flicks to my thrusts against him. He should’ve been a drummer.
I stopped moving as a heated passion crawled through me. I clenched my legs against his hips, almost feeling that tattoo throbbing against my flesh. The tattoo he got for me.
Pleasure suffused my core, and I pumped against him to share the feeling with him. Placing his hands on my hips, he sunk his fingers into the soft skin of my ass, guiding me.
I let him take the lead, and he bounced me up and down on his cock so hard my boobs jostled like they were double D’s instead of decent B’s.
He stopped moving, and I looked into his face, but he’d squeezed his eyes closed, and his jaw looked like it was about to break as he tried to contain the howl I knew was trying to escape. Loud comer.
He ended on a loud expulsion of breath and pulled me down to bury his face in the crook of my neck. With his lips next to my ear, he whispered, “That was bloody harder than I expected.”
“That was exactly how hard I expected—and more.”
“Saucy wench.” He cupped my tits and ran his thumbs across the nipples. “I don’t think anyone heard us.”
I said, “If they did, could you imagine anyone bringing it up in polite conversation? Pass the coffee, love, and did you enjoy your quiet fuck last night?”
“Actually, I could see a few people asking that—of me, not the keeper of the keys, though.”
I raised myself off his body and snuggled against his side. “You’ll let me know if they do.”
“What are you gonna do? Put a checkmark next to their names on your clipboard?”
I bit his shoulder. “This was your idea. I was perfectly content in my solitary bunk down there.”
“That makes...” he held up his index finger “...one of us.”
“Were you lying in wait for me?”
“Sort of.”
Conor’s head jerked at the sound of a text pinging on his phone. “Jaysus. Who’s sending me messages at this time of night?”
I covered my eyes. “I don’t even want to know at this point.”
What if someone really did hear us? Or maybe took a picture of us. My gaze darted to the corners of the ceiling looking for the eye of a camera.
Conor sat up and reached for his phone, charging on the small shelf at the foot of his bed. “Bloody hell, Noelle. It’s another text from anonymous.”
I pressed a hand to my heart. “What does it say? Did they give you a name? Is it Gordon?”
The glow of the phone lit up his face as he read the text to me. “Follow the money. It’s not Gordo.”