by T L Swan
I smile a victorious smile as our eyes lock. “I feel the same Josh. It doesn’t have to end. Why can’t we just spend the next couple of months together?” I grab his hand and give it a pleading squeeze.
“Tash, you know why, it will be just harder to leave when the time comes, and it will end. We both know that.”
I blow out a breath in frustration. “But can you please stick with your promise?”
He leans back and smiles. “The one you made me promise under sufferance.”
I smile. “Yes, that one.”
“I know what you did back there you know?” he smirks.
“Well, desperate times call for desperate measures and I seriously will go postal if you sleep with someone else, Josh. I mean it,” my voice is rising.
“Ok sshh,” he whispers, as he looks around. “Why is that so important to you?” he asks. He really has no idea, does he?
“Because if we run into each other, say at the Ivy, can you imagine how it would feel if I’m with someone else?”
He runs his tongue over the top of his front teeth. “I think we both saw how that went the other night,” he says deadpan.
I smile and bite my lip. “What did you do to that guy anyway?”
“Nothing until we got out to the back security room and he told me you give a great blow job.”
I gasp, “Josh, I’ve never been with him.” I put my hand over my mouth. “My god, what a liar.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Never,” he repeats.
“Definitely not,” I answer. “He’s a dick.”
“Why were you letting him touch you then?”
I swallow. This would sound childish, even to my ears. “I was mad with you Josh. I had just seen you with that stripper.” I swallow the lump in my throat as the visual re–enters my brain.
He reaches over and squeezes my hand. “So you were going to sleep with him to pay me back,” he murmurs.
“I was going to try,” I whisper.
“What does that mean?” he snaps.
“Josh, I have trouble being with… other men.”
He frowns. “What do you mean?” he whispers.
I shake my head. “Can we talk about something else?”
“No. You told me no secrets, remember.”
This was going to make me sound like the world’s biggest loser. “Josh, other men don’t…” I shrug my shoulders. “Get me hot for it. I usually get the hell out of there before they even get to first base.”
He frowns. “Why?” he questions. “When you are with me you’re gagging for it.”
I burst out laughing and choke on my wine. “Gagging for it,” I repeat. He smiles and nods. “Josh, you are a born romantic. You should write a romance novel and call it gagging for it.”
His eyes twinkle as he smiles warmly. “It does have a ring to it, doesn’t it?” he smirks.
“It’s definitely a book I would buy.” I do wide eyes at him to accentuate my point.
“It would be a real page turner, I suspect.”
Our meal arrives and we both eat in silence, lost deep in thought. And as we are waiting for the check I peek up at the gorgeous man sitting opposite me.
“How are we going to do this, Josh?”
He blows out a breath and rubs his face. “I suppose we are going to want each other from afar and be mollified that the other isn’t with anyone else.”
“That sounds totally crap. So I will know at night when I’m alone in my bed that you are alone in your bed and I can do nothing about it?”
He smiles and nods. “I suppose.”
“Josh that’s torture. It’s like…it’s like…” I can’t think of the appropriate analogy. “Having a Lamborghini in the garage and not being allowed to drive it.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “Did you just call me a Lamborghini?” He raises an eyebrow in question.
“I guess I did.”
“That’s a hot car,” he whispers.
“Well, you’re a very hot man,” I whisper back. He grabs my hand again, his blazing stare burning into me.
“When did you become such a beautiful slut?”
I smile, my chest filling with an unnamed emotion. “When you came back for me and turned on the switch,” I breathe. Who knew I would love the endearment ‘beautiful slut’. Now I know for certain I’m tapped.
“So I have you for tonight?” he rubs his finger over his lip, leaning back in his chair, his dominant sitting position makes me feel like a naughty schoolgirl.
“Yes,” I breathe as my eyes drop to his finger lingering over his lips, my heart rate rising. His searing stare bores into mine and our eyes lock. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. I see a familiar tick of the jaw and a much anticipated crack of the neck.
“Do you have any idea how hard you are going to cop it when we get home?” He smirks as he raises his eyebrows and crosses his legs to readjust his length that I can now see straining in his pants. I swallow a golf ball in my throat and a familiar heat starts to run through me, a fire that has only one extinguisher, a certain gorgeous man in a navy blazer. I smile and lick my lips, and his eyes drop to my mouth.
“I hope it’s hard enough to last me a lifetime seeing as no one else can get the job done… Mr Stanton.” He grabs my legs hard under the table, his thumbs nearly at bruising pressure, and leans in to whisper in my ear.
“Be careful what you wish for precious, you are playing with fire. No one will save you when you scream for mercy.”
Chapter 11
Who in god’s name would want to be saved from the fire I have just had for the last four hours? I was right. The man is a frigging Lamborghini, either that or a sex god from another planet. I smile into his chest as we sit on the bottom of my shower, both too exhausted to get up.
“Up presh,” he whispers. “You’re going to sleep.”
“Mmmm” I groan. I don’t want to get up. He kisses me on the forehead.
“Come on.” He helps me off his lap. I slowly stand and he helps me out of the shower and wraps me in a towel, cuddling me in an embrace like a child. His lips gently kiss my temple as he whispers. “I’m sorry, beautiful. I’ve been hard on you tonight, you make me lose my head and I can’t stop.” He continues to dry me.
“Mmm,” I answer again, too exhausted to open my eyes. My head is resting on his shoulder. “Be as hard on me as you want. My body is yours for nine weeks remember,” I mumble.
I can feel him smile into my neck. “Careful, keep talking like that and you will be on your knees again.” He kisses my neck with an open mouth. I don’t even have the strength to open my eyes to see if he’s serious. He picks me up like a bride and carries me to bed. He slowly removes the towel and lies me down as he snuggles in behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, then he gently starts to trail kisses across my shoulder and up my neck. As I slip into an orgasm–induced coma I hear him whisper the words, “I fucking adore you Natasha.”
When I woke up he was gone.
Cabin crew and crosscheck. I look out the window to my left as my private plane hurtles to take off down the runway. I glance at my watch—6.00 am. She will be waking up soon. I run the side of my pointer back and forward over my lip and close my eyes as disgust twists my gut. What a dog act, sneaking out in the middle of the night. She’s going to fucking hate me, and who could blame her? I run both my hands through my hair.
“Can I get you some breakfast Mr Stanton?” The blonde stewardess is over–attentive. She has been fawning all over me since I got on the damn plane.
“No I will just have a Cointreau and ice. Actually, make it a double.” I glare at her, silently telling her to back the hell off. She looks shocked and immediately nods and leaves me alone. I look over to see Adrian narrow his eyes at me.
“What?” I snap. He shakes his head and looks back out his window opposite me, his annoyance apparent. I am not in the mood for his shit today. If I want to drink Cointreau for breakfast then I fucking will. I don�
��t need another mother telling me what to do. The one I’ve got is enough of a nightmare. I glance at my watch again—6.25 am. I strum my fingers on my table. I’m so worked up I don’t think I can sit on this plane all the way to Melbourne.
I stand and walk up the end of the aisle and turn and put my hands on the back of the two opposite aisle seats. With only fifteen people on board for the meeting we have with the Australian Medical Board this morning, the plane is relatively empty. I stand for a while as my mind wanders back to the night before, to Natasha. I can’t even bear to be near my colleagues this morning. They are just too… in my space. I check my watch again—6.40 am. She will be waking up soon. I check my suit pant pockets for my phone and then my jacket pockets, shit. I stomp back down the aisle and look on my seat for my phone.
“Lost something?” Adrian asks a little too sweetly.
“My phone,” I reply.
“Expecting a call?” he asks. He holds my phone up as he smiles at Ben.
“Fuck off!” I snatch the phone off him and storm back down to the other end of the plane. I fall into the seat and rest my arm on the window base. This is a fucking nightmare, a total fucking nightmare. Last night was supposed to bring closure; instead I feel sick to my stomach. My mind flicks back to when I woke up next to her, and I put the heel of my hands into my eye sockets. What the fuck was that about. I fucking had sex with her while she was asleep. I’ve hit a new low. I close my eyes, the memory so vivid it is forever burned into my brain. I woke up to the feel of her gentle breath on my shoulder, she was on her back and my arm was draped over her stomach. I leaned up onto my elbow and flicked the lamp on so I could see the time. What I saw instead was the exact vision of the fantasy I’ve been having for seven years. Natasha on her back and all mine. I slowly peeled the blanket back so I could drink in her beauty, absolutely fucking breathless beauty. I remove my hand from her stomach and she gently groans and moves her hand around looking for me, then she relaxes as she finds my chest. Instantly my cock twitches. I slowly bend to kiss her breast and instead find her erect nipple in my mouth—so fucking perfect. She groans and her legs fall open, inviting me in. My breath starts to quiver as I slowly run my fingers from her throat down over both her breasts down her stomach and down to her beautiful tight cunt. She groans again and opens her legs further apart. I don’t believe this. She’s asleep and her body is responding to me. This is every fucking wet dream I’ve ever had. I wonder if I can feel my semen inside her. I slowly sink in one finger. She groans and spreads her legs again further apart. Her body starts to ripple around my finger—holy fuck this woman is hot. I add another finger and then another and her body starts to slowly pump my fingers, begging for more. This is unbearable. Sweat is beading over my body. I don’t think I’ve ever been so aroused in my life. Her body starts to gently ride my fingers and her soft sighs are going straight to my cock. Just the thought of watching her body orgasm as she sleeps is fucking with my head BIG TIME. Every muscle in my body is aching to be inside her, screaming at me in a deafening sound. Her legs fall to the mattress and she moans, her body wanting more. Her tight channel ripples around me and I groan as I put my head into my pillow trying to control myself. Willing myself to stop. Then her words from earlier come back to haunt me. Do what you want with my body, Joshua. It’s yours, remember. It’s those words that tip me over the edge and I slowly raise above her. Being as gentle as I can so as not to wake her I ease myself in slowly. The excess semen makes my entry easy. Her body instantly responds and I hold myself still. My god, this is too good to be true—she just feels too good. My arms shake as they struggle to hold my weight. I don’t move and instantly her body starts to contract around me, milking me and silently begging for my come. Her breathing is laboured and she moans a deep sound, one that I haven’t heard her make before, and the tingles in my balls force me to start to slowly move. With five gentle pumps she sighs and falls spectacularly into the most beautiful orgasm I have ever witnessed and I gently follow, knowing that I am thoroughly and utterly forever ruined.
Shit, I’m aroused again at just the memory of her… and her beautiful fuckable body. I rub my temples—talk about a total mind–fuck. Cabin crew prepare for descent. I look at my phone again—7.10 am. She’d be awake by now and she would be spitting nails.
We sit in the limo en route to the hospital and I check my phone for the hundredth time this morning. She hasn’t rung—she’s definitely pissed. I’ve fucking blown it. It’s probably for the best as I can’t have her anyway. What was I thinking? I rub my forehead. I’ve had enough of this day already and its 7.00 o clock in the morning. My phone beeps a text and I scramble to check if it’s her. Adrian and Ben laugh and my eyes snap up to them.
“Expecting a call?” Adrian smiles as he deletes the text he’s just sent me.
“Just fuck off Adrian. I’m not in the damn mood,” I snap. “Adrian, I want you to do the presentation this morning,” I sigh as I adjust my cufflinks and stare out the window. “I’m not up for it.” He doesn’t answer. The silence is stifling and I look up to see what they are doing.
“Josh, this is a twenty–two million dollar deal, you can’t not do this. What the hell is going on with you?”
“Nothing I just haven’t slept and I’m…off.”
“Just ring her if it’s that important.”
“Her name is Natasha, and this has nothing to do with her.”
“Josh, you better get your shit together or two years of work is going down the gurgler, I mean it. Snap the fuck out of it.” I rub my forehead and put my head back into the head rest.
This day just gets better and better.
3.00 pm—the meeting went well and we are having a late lunch in a bar. The techs have got on their commercial flight back to Sydney. Ben, Adrian and I are staying in Melbourne overnight so I can see my parents, although I would rather be alone. Not in the mood for socializing… or living for that matter. I order another Cointreau and ice—it seems the only thing that I can stomach today. I’m so tired. No wonder I feel like shit, I hardly slept on Saturday night after the fight and then last night was a write off. Ben and Adrian are talking nonstop about Sydney versus Melbourne restaurants. I smile at the notion they consider themselves foodies. All I want to do is go to a hotel and take a sleeping tablet, knock myself out for the rest of this shitty day. But I have to go to my parents for dinner. Why do I make these stupid arrangements? It seemed like a good idea at the time. My phone beeps a text:
I’m sore baby.
I immediately smile. It’s her. I reply:
Mission accomplished
I leave it for a second and then text back:
And for the record so am I.
I smile again, picturing her reading my text. I look up to find Adrian and Ben silent and utterly shocked in their seats.
“What?” I smirk.
“Are you kidding?” Adrian snaps. “You’ve been a total ass all day and one text from Cinderella and you are smiling like an idiot.”
“Shut up. I am not.” But it’s true. I am smiling like an idiot.
“I don’t believe it.” Ben shakes his head. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve done your nuts over this girl,” he tuts.
“I have not… done my nuts over this girl.” I roll my eyes.
“Joshua Stanton, the biggest lady prick in all of America, has been freaking out all day waiting for Cinderella to text him, un–fucking believable.”
I smile as I read his text. I bet you’re sore, big boy, if my vagina is any indication. So he is speaking to me. I am in my office between patients, sitting at my desk drinking coffee. I have been over – analysing him and this situation all day. I was ropeable this morning when I woke and he was gone—coward. But then I realised he was probably freaked out and I needed to give him space to adjust to this situation, whatever the hell this situation is. I am just as confused as he is. A large lead ball has sat in
the bottom of my stomach since I woke up and he wasn’t there. It’s…annoying. I know we have no future, so why am I trying to prolong this stupid affair. This is just so messed up. Why in the hell is he my cousin? It’s not natural to be so attracted to a blood relative. My mind drifts back to last night. He’s amazing. I smile again. I know he was right there with me during the sex, the whole six amazing hours of it. No wonder I’m sore, the man is an animal. The kind of animal that has you begging for seconds. I know he lost his head as much as I did, but then he left without saying goodbye. Why? At least I have left the walls for communication open now and he has texted back. Perhaps he’s working?
My boss Henry comes into my office.
“Hi Natasha. Just checking that you still want to go with Peter tomorrow?”
I frown as I try to remember what he is talking about. “Where to?”
“Remember he has that appointment at the detention centre regarding that bail hearing he’s got coming up. He just needs a witness that’s all. I can send someone else if you are too busy.”
“No, I’ll go. I just forgot about it.” I smile.
“Ok good, it will be good experience for you, that’s all.” Henry is my boss. He’s kind of wonderful. Although I’m qualified to do this job, I am much younger and less experienced than the other sexual psychologists but Henry took a liking to me in my internship and offered me a position after I finished university. I am still on the relatively easy cases but am learning every day. This job is the opportunity of a lifetime. I’m grateful that he had the faith in me to give me the opportunity.
“Yeah sounds good. I’m looking forward to it”. I smile as he leaves the office. Thank god—a distraction. I need to stop obsessing about Mr Stanton. If he wants to see me he will have to ring me. I texted him…now he will have to call me. He better call me.
