Chapter 10 #2
The imagine of this beautiful fucking woman on her knees was enough.
She gagged loudly but refused to let up.
I grunted as she took more, my dick sliding further into her mouth and spit falling from the corners of those beautiful lips.
Where the hell did my mind get these sound effects from?
The minute I heard her moan in my mind, it was over.
“Fuck.”
And then I let go.
Threads of cum shot out against the walls, and my groan of pleasure shattered the image. I was alone, catching my breath under the beating cold shower. Fucking hell, I'd never come that hard before.
When the feeling passed, I stood there longer than necessary, letting the cold wash over me again until everything dulled back into something manageable. My head tipped back, eyes on the ceiling, chest rising and falling.
This was bad.
Really bad.
I shut off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel and wrapping it low around my waist. In the mirror, my reflection looked wrecked—jaw tight, eyes dark, thoughts nowhere near as calm as they should’ve been.
Yeah, I'm definitely in way deeper than I planned.
There were a lot of things I’d imagined doing on my birthday.
Helping Nerissa move was not one of them.
“You got the text, too?” Jesse asked, coming up behind me as I leaned against the counter.
I nodded, thumbs flying as I sent a quick reply before lifting my gaze back to Katie Clarke, who stood near the front of the studio, recorder tucked away, flashing me a warm smile.
The interview had wrapped up cleanly—easy questions, good energy.
If it did half of what she promised, the mural would get the attention it deserved.
Maybe the shop, too.
“None of us have clients later, right?” I asked, knocking my knuckles against the counter to get Ari’s attention.
He barely looked up from his phone. “Nah. Rissa rescheduled everything.” He grimaced. “Still don’t know why I agreed to move boxes on a perfectly good Friday. We should be prepping to go out tonight. Or getting ready for the trip this weekend. I don't want to.”
“Too bad. We're helping,” Jesse said flatly, a no-nonsense expression on his face.
Ari grumbled under his breath before turning to me.
“The reporter’s got it bad for you, bro. You see the way she looks at you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Girlfriend. Remember?”
The word sat strange on my tongue—fake but not meaningless.
Exclusivity wasn’t in the contract—and you could bet your ass I'd be teasing Savannah about that later. Or did she purposely leave that out? The latter brought an unsettling feeling in my stomach.
Technically, I didn’t owe her anything beyond playing the part when required. And yet, even with a gorgeous reporter smiling at me from across the room, my thoughts circled back to Savannah—her laugh, her sharp mind, the way she looked at me like she was always deciding whether to bolt or lean in.
Fuck, I'm so screwed.
“Thanks again for the interview,” Katie said as she walked over, heels clicking softly against the concrete floor. “You sure I can’t convince you to grab dinner sometime?”
I smiled, polite but firm. “Yeah. Sorry.”
“Shame,” she said lightly. “Call me if you change your mind, handsome.”
She winked, giving a practiced sway of her hips as she headed for the door.
A week ago, I would’ve watched her go.
Now? I barely noticed.
Because all I could think about was Savannah—whether she’d text me back today, whether she had any idea how badly she was getting under my skin.
I exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck.
“Alright,” I muttered, already reaching for my jacket. “Let’s go to Nerissa’s and rip this bandage off.”
The guys nodded and we headed out the door. Jesse already had Benji’s car keys, so we hopped in and less than ten minutes later, we were parked in front of a moving truck.
And the sight was chaotic, to say the least.
Boxes lined the narrow hallway like tombstones—labeled in thick black marker, stacked three high, some half-open with clothes spilling out like Nerissa was still trying to fill them.
The apartment smelled faintly of citrus cleaner and dust, with the evening glow slanting through the bare windows, hitting the scuffed hardwood floors where furniture used to be.
“Damn,” Ari muttered as he stepped inside and saw Nerissa. “You move fast.”
“Well, the landlord didn’t give me much of a choice,” Nerissa shot back, swiping the back of her hand across her sweaty forehead. Her locs were tied up in a bun with a few strands hanging loose.
Her eyes landed on me and she crossed her room, throwing her arms around my waist. “Happy birthday.”
I hugged her back, my arms tight around her waist before pulling away. “Thanks, Rissa.”
“Looks like you haven't slept, Nessa,” Jesse pointed out.
She shrugged. “I'll sleep after the day's over. Grab boxes and load them up. Everything that isn’t bolted down goes.”
Jesse narrowed his eyes but rolled up his sleeves without complaint, grabbing the first box and heading out the door.
I followed, lifting one that was heavier than it looked.
The place felt smaller without her personality filling it—no music blasting, no candles burning, no Nerissa sprawled dramatically across furniture like she owned the world.
She moved through the apartment with sharp efficiency, tank top riding up as she reached overhead, hair twisted the loose strands into the messy bun. I reached for another box and saw Jesse’s eyes following her as she bent, lifted, and cursed under her breath.
“Finish the bedroom. I've got this,” he murmured, reaching for the box instead.
“Yeah,” I agreed, taking the other box.
Nerissa glanced over her shoulder. “If either of you drops my shit, I swear to God—”
“We won’t,” Jesse said quickly, already halfway to the door.
It took less than an hour to clear the place. Nerissa locked the door behind us without ceremony, keys dangling loosely from her fingers. She didn’t look back.
“That's the last of it?” one of the movers asked.
“Yeah, that's it. Thanks guys, just follow us to the new place and we're done.”
Both guys nodded and headed to their truck. I fanned out my shirt, already sweating from the first part of this.
“Thanks so much for picking my birthday to do this, Rissa. I just loved lifting boxes all afternoon,” I sarcastically said, hopping into the back of Benji’s car.
“First of all, this wasn't planned,” she responded, sliding into the passenger seat. “And second of all, quit being a baby. And third, thank you for helping me. Drinks on me all night tonight.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Awesome! I'm getting—”
“Free drinks only for the birthday boy,” Nerissa interrupted Ari, directing Jesse with hand gestures.
“How's that fair? We all signed up for this manual labor here”—he shot Jesse a glare from the back beside me, but Jesse ignored him and turned right—“forcibly, by the way. I deserve free drinks, too.”
“Is it your birthday? No. Now be a good boy and shhh.”
Chuckling, I shook my head and fished out my phone. I had to silence it that morning with all the birthday messages coming in. A part of me hoped I'd see a message from Savannah, but there was nothing.
I released an exasperated sigh and looked out the window, watching the city roll past us in a blur of concrete and traffic lights. At first, I didn’t think anything of the route—just another drive through Ashburn—until the water came into view.
The Kingston bridge.
I sat up straighter, eyes narrowing as the familiar skyline stretched ahead. The same stretch of river I’d crossed a hundred times. The same direction I’d ridden my bike more than once recently.
She's moving across the bridge?
“Uh,” I muttered, leaning forward between the seats. “Where are we going?”
Nerissa didn’t turn around. “Relax.”
That didn’t help.
We flew across the bridge, steel beams flashing past, the river glinting beneath us. The further we went, the more my pulse ticked. Every building we passed—on a very specific fucking route—a strange, sinking certainty settling in my chest.
“Nerissa,” I called out.
Then Jesse slowed.
Pulled off.
Parked.
I stared out the window.
Savannah’s building stood there like a punch to the ribs—brick facade, familiar steps, the faint glow from a second-floor window I’d memorized without meaning to.
Oh.
Oh, hell no.
My head snapped toward Nerissa.
“You’re moving in with Savannah?” I leaned forward, disbelief sharp in my voice.
She finally turned around, grin slow and unapologetic. “Not technically. I mean, she lives upstairs.”
Ari barked out a laugh. “No way. As in girlfriend Savannah?”
Jesse glanced between us in the rearview mirror. “You didn’t know?”
“No,” I said flatly, my eyes back on the building. My stomach twisted—not anger, exactly. Something tighter. More complicated.
“When the… you barely know her to be living with her.”
Nerissa shrugged, already unbuckling her seatbelt. “She offered. I needed a place, and there's an empty floor in her place. It makes sense.”
Uh, no the fuck it doesn't.
I leaned back against the seat, dragging a hand down my face as the news settled in. Savannah. Nerissa. Same space. Same roof.
“Well,” Ari said, clapping his hands together, “this just got interesting.”