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Well Hung

Page 7

by Pratt, Lulu


  Chloe forced a smile — with such apparent effort that it only made me feel worse — and joked, “If you’ve been planning this for decades, you better think of some pretty extravagant way to propose.”

  I didn’t deserve a friend as cool as Chloe. Joining in the joke, I replied, “Maybe I’ll fly in a troupe of those — what do they call them? Water dancers? The ones with the flower caps?”

  She rolled her eyes and grinned. “Synchronized swimmers?”

  “Yeah, them. And they can spell out ‘marry me’ in the ocean or something.”

  “Ooh, that’s pretty good. Or you could have a thousand white doves released into the air.”

  “What for?”

  “I dunno, white doves just seem romantic.”

  We doubled over at the remark, laughing until our sides hurt. It was so easy to laugh around her.

  When we finally managed to straighten up, our eyes locked as our stomachs uncoiled.

  Her lips were like an Italian rose, plucked straight off the vine. I could imagine them, drenched in wine, forming into a peal of laughter as she raced around the Trevi Fountain.

  It was on that thought that I leaned in and kiss her, my lips pressing passionately against Chloe’s.

  And just like that, she slapped me across the face.

  CHAPTER 14

  Xavier

  “HEY!” I CRIED, recoiling and rubbing the injured cheek. “What was that for?!”

  “You kissed me!”

  “I know, it seemed like you wanted me to.”

  The blood was starting to flow back to my face — and to other parts of my body.

  She harrumphed. “Well, you misread the situation.”

  I arched an eyebrow, studying her body language as she twisted her chest away from me. “Did I?”

  Chloe cast a look over her shoulder. Her eyes seemed magnetically drawn to my crotch. She’d glance up at my face, or to the wall, but those pupils would always dart back down below.

  At last, she caved. “Xavier, we can’t. I’m not the one with a would-be fiancée, remember?”

  “We need to get it out of our system.”

  “What if that only makes it worse?”

  I inclined my head, scooting closer to her on the bench. “How about we try anyways?”

  In the flash of a single instant, I saw Chloe make a decision. Her entire face relaxed, as though finally letting go of tension the muscles had stored from memory.

  Then, her eyes narrowed wickedly and she whispered, “It’s after hours. No one’s here right now.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying,” she continued, placing a now soft, pliable hand on my injured cheek, “that you should fuck me on this bench and stop asking so many goddamn questions.”

  Before I could overthink what was about to happen next, I dove to Chloe, pushing her back down onto the bench and kissing her once more. My cock had been twitching for the last half hour, and at last, it grew fully hard, a rod of powerful steel between my legs.

  “Ask me again,” I whispered in her ear as I straddled the bench and Chloe’s thighs.

  “Fuck me, Xavier. Fuck me. Do it.”

  “Take off your clothes,” I ordered her as I unbuttoned the belt of my jeans.

  She laughed as she ripped off the sweater and discarded it onto the gallery floor. “What, you don’t wanna fuck me in a turtleneck?”

  Her jeans followed shortly thereafter, whisked off so quickly I almost paused to marvel at her ability. But I couldn’t focus on her talent, because now Chloe’s naked body lay beneath me, finer than any of the art that surrounded us in the Comino Gallery.

  She had a lusciously tan figure that rose and fell like the tides. High, swelling breasts with small, pink nipples at their peaks, hips that sinuously curved, and between her legs, a small, soft mound of downy golden-brown hair that covered her pleasure palace.

  My cock flopped out of my underwear, thwacking against her upper thigh. Chloe groaned with excitement, spreading her legs further and further, beckoning me forward. I heard her bare feet slap on the ground, and watched her back arch until her hips were in the air, silently asking me inside.

  I almost asked if she was certain nobody was around, but then I realized I didn’t care. We’d have to do this fast and dirty, just the way I liked it.

  My hands came to either side of Chloe’s face and I leaned in low to suckle at her neck. She tilted further back to offer me more skin, and I obliged, biting down and loving the sounds that she made.

  I couldn’t wait any longer, and hell, we probably didn’t have much time left. It was now or never.

  I plunged my dick inside Chloe, who gratifyingly screamed so loud I worried that the priceless works of art around us would be damaged. She was so hot and damp around my cock, like some kind of a sacred pool. I pinched her hard nipple with one hand as I used the other for balance, thrusting forward and deeper into her.

  “Fuck me fast, Xavier!” she cried out, burying her nails face in my shoulder.

  I reached down to put a finger on her clit, rubbing it as I fucked her with greater speed and fury. Sweat dripped down my face, onto her bare stomach, and back down onto my dick. We were covered in one another’s fluids, and we were both loving it.

  “You’re such a dirty girl,” I gasped as I pressed my hips tighter to hers. “Who would’ve thought?”

  In an instant, I was jackhammering her opening with every ounce of energy and lust I had in my body.

  Moments later, she squealed, “Xavier, I think I’m gonna squirt. Don’t stop, don’t stop.”

  Somehow, I found the strength to screw her even more vigorously, finding an impossibly fast rhythm.

  Suddenly, she arched her back and howled, and I saw a pool of liquid appear beneath her pussy, spilling over the edges of the wooden bench. She shivered over and over, until at last, she collapsed into the puddle of her own juices.

  After a moment, I pulled out, and Chloe looked up at me.

  “Let me finish you,” she insisted, face shiny and pink from the fucking.

  I wasn’t complaining. She pushed on my abs, shoving me down on the bench so that she could angle her mouth over my cock. Chloe took me in her mouth and began to fellate my cock with practice and precision. She tore moans from me as though they were treasures to be won.

  When I looked down I saw her eyes searching for mine and the traces of a smile around her open lips.

  The moment our gazes locked, I orgasmed.

  Her mouth filled with my seed, spilling out of the corners and down the length of my cock. As I spluttered and ejaculated, Chloe dug her nails into my thighs, forcing out every last drop.

  Finally satiated, she tucked her feet beneath her butt and knelt on the bench. We stared at one another. We’d just fucked — again. What the hell were we thinking?

  “This is just a fling, right?” Chloe asked, almost hopefully.

  “Of course. It won’t happen again.”

  “Definitely not.”

  I cleared my throat. Chloe moved first, arising so that she could grab her clothes that I’d scattered across the marble floor. I watched as she began to dress hastily, remembering at once that this was her work — if anyone caught her naked, she’d have hell to pay.

  It won’t happen again, I said, this time just in my mind, thinking the words like a talisman against evil. It won’t happen again.

  And yet, as I watched a half-clothed Chloe bend over, her tan skin rippling as she tugged on her sweater, I knew I didn’t believe my own lie.

  CHAPTER 15

  Chloe

  COLLEGE HAD helped me master the art of throwing on clothes as quickly as possible. Back then, I’d take whatever I could off the floor of my dorm room, throw it all on until it passed as an outfit — or at least, tons of layers that simulated an outfit — and run out the door with minutes to go ‘til class.

  My, how I’ve upgraded, I thought sardonically as I gussied myself up in the middle of one of the finest galle
ries in the world. It certainly put my messy dorm to shame.

  When I turned around, Xavier was tucking his shirt back into the waistband of his pants and fastening the belt. It was funny, seeing him clothed — no, I don’t mean because I was so used to seeing him naked, but rather because, when I’d known him, he dressed like… well, a kid. All jeans, T-shirts, Converse sneakers. Cool, for sure, but youthful. Now, he was almost always dressed like a businessman, with his little suits and ties. It was hot, don’t get me wrong, but equally a reminder of how much we’d both changed.

  I forced myself to look away from the smooth skin that peeked out of the hem of his shirt. If I stared at his gorgeous abs for too long, we’d never leave this gallery.

  Within a minute, we were both reasonably well-attired and looking professional enough. We coughed awkwardly for a moment, neither of us knowing what to do or say next.

  After a long pause, Xavier began, “You probably have to get back to work—”

  I took his hint gratefully. “Yes, yeah of course. It was… nice to see you.”

  “You too.”

  God, were we always this uncomfortable around one another? Only a short time ago, he’d been inside me! Why did everything between us have to be so fucking hard? No pun intended.

  Xavier hesitated just a little longer, then said with finality, “Okay, I’m gonna head out. I guess I’ll see you soon?”

  Was that a trace of hope I detected?

  “Well, we practically work together now,” I laughed. “So, yeah. I’ll see you soon.”

  He nodded. “All right, then. Bye, Chloe.”

  “Bye.”

  Xavier turned on the heel of his shiny leather Oxford and strode out of the gallery. With the white, lit walls framing his broad, black-clad shoulders and his mop of dark brown-black hair, Xavier himself looked like a piece of art, angled shadows surging through the edge of a painting.

  The exit door slammed behind him, and I breathed a sigh of relief before collapsing back down onto the bench we’d just made love upon.

  I buried my face in my hands and moaned to myself, “What the fuck are you doing?”

  It was a worthwhile question, but not one I had even the foggiest answer to.

  Beneath my right thigh, I felt warm liquid.

  Shit, am I getting my period?! That would really cap off the day.

  I scooted my butt over to inspect the seat.

  Nope — it was just the remainder of my squirting, I realized with embarrassment. I used a Kleenex from my pocket to mop up the fluid, polishing the bench until it glowed.

  Though, speaking of which… when was the last time I’d gotten my period?

  I mentally ticked back the calendar days in my mind, finally arriving at a calculation.

  No, that couldn’t be right. Could it?

  Oh shit.

  I’d missed my period by several weeks.

  CHAPTER 16

  Chloe

  THE FOLLOWING morning, I couldn’t take my eyes off my purse.

  I was sitting at my temporary desk in the main office, allegedly doing work. In reality, my mind was totally somewhere else. More specifically, on the bottom of my bag.

  Last night, after sex with Xavier and my realization that I was late, I’d worked up the nerve to go to a corner pharmacy and buy a pregnancy test. Unfortunately, that was as far as my nerve had taken me. For the last twelve hours, I’d been trying to cajole myself into peeing on the stick.

  But once I peed, there was no turning back. Whether it was a positive or a negative, I’d be a different person once I saw whatever that little stick said.

  Maybe I just needed to bite the bullet. If I ripped it out of my bag, shoved it into the baggy pockets of my overalls and ran to the bathroom — maybe then I wouldn’t have an excuse.

  Yeah, that was it. I’d just go in headlong and hope for the best.

  With a deep breath, I closed my eyes and reached into the bottom of my bag, feeling my hand graze against the cardboard box.

  “Hey, Chloe, right?”

  I opened my eyes and whipped around to the door.

  There, silhouetted in the frame, was Rebecca, Xavier’s would-be fiancée.

  Fuck.

  I pulled my hand out of my bag so fast it was as though I were recoiling from a snake bite.

  Rebecca raised a prettily arched brow. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked in an apologetic singsong.

  “No, no, not at all.” Yes, I thought. You’re interrupting me figuring out if I’m pregnant with your boyfriend’s baby.

  She moved further into the room, her pastel pink skirt swirling around her thighs.

  “Can we talk?”

  I brushed my hair back, trying to look more relaxed than I felt.

  “Why, what’s up?”

  Her eyes darted around the public office and she murmured, “Maybe somewhere more private?”

  “Oh, yeah, totally.” I stood up. “Follow me, we can go to one of the quieter galleries.”

  She smiled brightly. “Sounds good.”

  We walked in silence out of the office and into the main halls. I took us down one after another until we were in the most secluded wing of the gallery, which was currently filled with a rotating exhibition of postcards and family photos from the Great Depression.

  “How… lovely,” Rebecca said mildly as we came to a halt in the room.

  “I know it’s kind of a downer,” I admitted. “All these, um, dead people. But it’s the most private place in here.”

  She giggled. “Okay, it’s true, I was just trying to be polite. These pictures are a little eerie.” She rubbed at her nose and continued, “But I appreciate you obliging me anyways, and without asking any questions.”

  “Anytime.” My answers were getting terser as I waited for Rebecca to explain what she came here for.

  She took my cue.

  Clasping her hands together in front of her stomach, Chloe asked me evenly, as though she were just inquiring about the weather, “Chloe, what’s your history with Xavier?”

  My stomach dropped, flipped, then dropped again. Fuck!

  I struggled for words, but I knew the longer I remained silent, the guiltier I would look.

  “Why do you ask?” I inquired, as casually as possible.

  Rebecca spoke carefully, as though she’d practiced the words. “I know there’s something between you and Xavier, and that’s fine. I’m not crazy. I can’t stop him from having crushes, or looking at other women. But Xavier and I have been basically promised to one another since we were children. We’re going to take over our fathers’ company, and when we do, I want to know that there’s nothing that will prevent us from working well together.”

  I stayed silent, and she added, “Please, Chloe. Girl to girl. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  Her face, sunny and serene only moments ago, was now contorted with desperation. It struck me as strange, that she spoke of partnership and work, when Xavier was supposed to be her boyfriend and, down the line, husband. Was this how you talked of people you loved? It all seemed so formal, so archaic.

  But then, it was what Xavier wanted too, right? Or so he said. Which meant it wasn’t my business. Maybe it was just one of those rich people things I would never fully understand.

  Besides, given my indiscretions of the last few weeks, it’s not like I was in a position to judge anyone. Let she who is without sin cast the first stone, and all that jazz.

  And, more than anything else, I couldn’t let Xavier down.

  So, I lied.

  “There’s nothing between us,” I told Rebecca with a smile. “Our history is just that — history. The ancient kind, in fact. We’re friends now. I mean, I think Xavier is a great guy, but all that other stuff… it was years ago. We’re different people. Older, wiser, you know?”

  I watched Rebecca, waiting to see how she’d react to my words. I anticipated relief, maybe a little suspicion. After all, I wasn’t a fantastic liar.

  Instead
, I saw — just for a moment, a little flicker — an unexpected flash of regret, her lips turning down and her face falling.

  But it was gone so quickly I wondered if I’d really seen it at all. Maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me to help me cope with my own bad behavior.

  In any case, Rebecca’s expression had closed off once more, and the moment was gone.

  “That’s great,” she said. “I’m so glad to hear it. I mean, of course I trusted Xavier, and you, but just… you wanna make sure sometimes. Gosh, I’m embarrassed I even asked, I seem so controlling, right?”

  “I totally get it,” I reassured her. Especially since all your suspicions were correct, I thought. “You’re just, like, doing your due diligence. I’m sure that’s why you’re a great businesswoman.”

  She chuckled. “Maybe someday. As it is, I’m just learning the ropes. Anyway, thanks for being so understanding. You really are the best.”

  Much to my surprise, Rebecca crossed the room and enveloped me in a hug, her thin arms cold to the touch.

  God, I was the worst. Like the real, absolute worst. Rebecca was so kind and loving and I’d just lied to her damn face. What kind of person did that make me?

  But then again, this was Xavier’s problem, not mine. After all, I reasoned, I wasn’t the one entering a commitment on false premises. That was all him. And I couldn’t be held responsible for his mistakes — even if I was, perhaps, aiding and abetting them.

  “Well,” Rebecca said, pulling away. “It was nice to see you.”

  “You too.”

  She left with as little fanfare as she had entered. The moment the door slammed behind her, I flopped down into a bench, breathing a sigh of relief.

  Catastrophe had been avoided, if only for a moment.

  But I couldn’t keep this charade up forever — something had to give.

  CHAPTER 17

 

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