by Harlow James
This is exactly what I wanted—no-strings-attached, hot and heavy sex—so why does my chest ache a bit with how nonchalant he was about the entire arrangement?
Perhaps I need to rewire my brain if I’m going to keep this up. Otherwise I have a feeling someone is going to get hurt—me.
Chapter 16
Javier
I’m fucking Sydney Matthews.
The thought that has been on repeat in my mind for the past week weaves its way to the forefront again as I drill in the next piece of drywall in the bedroom of the house we’re building.
It’s been seven days since I lived out a high school fantasy I think most men would admit to having—sex with the cheerleading captain, prom queen, and as an added bonus, the valedictorian. The seventeen-year-old boy in me is raving with confidence knowing that girl was in my bed and screaming out my name just a few days ago.
But the twenty-eight-year-old man I am now is having trouble accepting the predicament I now find myself in—drowning in need for a woman I never thought I’d have, let alone want. Sydney has not only infiltrated my bed and my spank bank highlights, but she’s digging herself into my everyday thoughts. I knew she was there before, but now that I’ve tasted her, felt her wrapped around my cock, and heard her moans of pleasure, it’s all I can think about.
I told her this could only be sex, and honestly, I feel like that’s all I could give her. I’m not the type of man she needs—a stuffy suit that rolls around in hundred dollar bills before he falls asleep on his eight-hundred count Egyptian cotton sheets at night. I’m just a blue-collar worker with a past that would probably make her run for the hills the second she realized what a monster I can be.
And that’s part of the reason why I didn’t kiss her. Kissing is intimate, more intimate than sex, I might argue. Believe me, I want to taste her, but if her lips pull me in like her pussy has, I don’t think I’d come up for air.
Even though I’m striving to move beyond my past indiscretions, that part of me is still in there—a man who can snap at the drop of a hat. Beating the shit out of Jesus wasn’t the first time I’d lost it. But given the other details of that night, it was first time I almost killed someone.
Sydney is too pure for someone like me.
Pure—funny how I would use that word to describe her after she begged for me to fuck her. The woman definitely surprised me with how brazen she can be and how willing she is to let me have my way with her. Of course, it’s always the prudes in public that are freaks in the sheets, right?
Regardless of how she likes to be handled in bed, the woman is tight-laced and upstanding, and I am not. I’m jagged and flawed. A little broken and lost. I have no idea what my future will hold, which is yet another reason why sex with Sydney can only be a momentary distraction.
“Hey, Javi?” Trilch calls to me from the other side of the house we’re working on, pulling me from my self-deprecating thoughts.
I set down my drill and then trudge across the concrete floors, finding him in the master bathroom. “What’s up?”
“I don’t think this is the right tile, man. I’m looking at these plans and it says white marble, but this is more gray, don’t you think?”
I grab the paper from his hands and check the product number on the plans with the box. Fuck, he’s right. These aren’t the right ones.
“Shit. How the fuck did this happen? And why wasn’t this checked after it was delivered?”
Trilch just shrugs and then moves his hand up to swipe the sweat from his brow. “That’s not my job, boss.” I glare at him, knowing he’s insinuating this is my fault. “You’ve been a little distracted lately, so something was bound to get fucked up.”
“What are you implying, Trilch?”
He shrugs again. “Nothing. I just know that there’s usually a reason a man can’t focus. And my money is that reason is a woman.”
I scoff, throw the paper down on the work station, and then begin to walk away. “Get back to work, fucker. I’ll go get this tile debacle situated.” I bend down to grab the boxes of tiles and then walk out to the truck, loading them in the back.
I wonder if Trilch can sense that something happened between Sydney and me? He was there when she ragged on me at Russo’s. He saw the tension between us. But he couldn’t possibly know that we crossed that line from enemies to lovers … could he?
As I drive across town to the supplier that Gibson Construction uses for flooring, countertops, and tile, I can’t help the grin that graces my lips as I think about the last time I went to buy tile—Sydney’s smug look on her face when she picked out the tile I’m installing in my house, her challenge when she asked me to teach her how to lay it, the scream she let out when I gave her an orgasm, or two, instead.
The fucking woman won’t leave my mind, even when I’m at work and should be focused on anything but the next time I get to taste her.
I arrive at the business and rush inside to get the problem squared away. Bill, the owner, apologizes profusely and luckily, had the tile we ordered still in stock. We make the switch, and I’m back in my truck, heading back for the job site within twenty minutes. As I cruise down the road, I pass by a few office buildings, noticing the sign for the law firm Sydney works for. I may have done a little social media stalking in the past week, wanting to know more about the woman who’s been running through my mind without straight up asking her.
Because questions are personal, and that’s not what we agreed to.
I’m sitting at a stoplight, wondering what’s she’s doing at that moment. Is she speaking to a client? Is her head buried in paperwork or staring at her computer? Is she thinking about my cock the way I think about her pussy at random times in the day?
The light turns green and I hit the gas pedal, just as the gas light indicator comes on in the truck.
“Shit.” I search for the nearest gas station which is just a few feet up the road and signal to turn into the driveway, pulling up to a pump. As I run the company gas card and start the fuel, my hands move to fetch my phone from my pocket.
Since I can’t help but think about Sydney right now, I think we need to schedule our next rendezvous. Knowing when I get to fuck her again should help me concentrate once I get back to the job site. I search for her number in my phone, which I labeled Princess for anonymity purposes, and shoot off a text to her as nerves hum through me.
Me: What are you doing tonight? I need to taste your pussy.
Princess: Well, hello to you too. I’m actually leaving for Fort Worth tonight.
Well, fuck.
Me: What’s in Fort Worth?
Princess: A lawyer’s conference that my boss paid for me to attend.
Me: When will you be back?
Princess: Late Sunday night.
Me: Well, there goes my plans.
Princess: Yeah, sorry. But just knowing you wanted to meet up tonight has me wet.
Disappointment rolls through me as the gas pump clicks off. But then I do a double take and read her text again. Seems Sydney wants me as badly as I want her right now.
Me: Where are you right now?
Princess: My office. Why?
Me: Lock your door.
I slide back into my truck just as Sydney’s number flashes across my screen, forcing a smile from my lips instantly.
“Why do you want me to lock my door?”
I pull the door shut on the truck and start the engine. “Because you’re going to relieve the ache in between your legs at your desk right now, Princess. And I’m going to enjoy listening to you come on the phone with me.”
She pauses, so I know she’s overthinking this. “Javier … you can’t be serious.”
“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it, Sydney? You wanted someone to tell you what to do, be in control of your pleasure? Well, since I can’t have you tonight and boss you around the way you need in person, this is the next best thing. I’ve had a half-chub all day thinking about licking your pussy tonight, but seems that
’s not going to happen. So I say we satisfy our need for each other right now.”
I can hear her breathing through the phone, telling me she’s definitely turned on. “Where are you?”
I pull out of the gas station and into an alley way between two buildings, secure from eyes around me. This needs to be quick though so I don’t draw attention to myself in a company truck. “In my work truck.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?”
“I had to run an errand. Have you locked your door yet, Sydney?” I reach down and stroke myself through my jeans as the click of metal hits my ears. “Good girl.”
“This is insane. I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” Her voice is shaky, but I think she needs to live on the edge a bit.
“Take off your panties, but leave your skirt on.”
“How did you know I was wearing a skirt?”
I huff out a laugh. “Lucky guess. Now send me a picture so I can see them.”
“Okay …” I hear the phone hit her desk and movement come through the speaker. Then in a matter of seconds, a notification pops up on my screen. The sight of Sydney’s black lace thong hanging off her finger has me rock hard in seconds.
“Good girl. Now pull your skirt up over your hips and touch your pussy. Tell me how wet you are.”
I hear more movement and then she’s moaning. “So wet, Javi.”
“Have you been thinking about me?” I ask as I squeeze the phone between my ear and shoulder, and reach down to extract my dick from my pants, sliding my hand up and down my length. My other hand pulls my shirt up so I don’t blow my load on it in a few minutes.
“Yes …”
“What have you been thinking about?”
I hear her swallow and then she speaks. “About your cock. How it feels sliding in and out of me. How desperate you make me feel.”
“You like feeling out of control with me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “It’s exactly what I wanted.” Fuck, I love knowing this girl is hard-up for me.
“Good. Now finger yourself. Send me a picture to show me how wet you are.”
I wait for a moment and then groan when I see the picture of her glistening fingers come through the phone. “Fuck. Play with your clit, Princess. Get yourself off.”
“I’m so close already, Javi. Just your voice has me close to the edge.”
How does the woman already have me ready to burst like a fucking teenager? Knowing I can affect her like this gives me a sense of power I feel like I’ve been missing lately.
Maybe that’s what this thing with Sydney is giving me—control when I’ve felt like I’ve had anything but control in the past. I’ve never had a plan, I’ve never known where I’m headed or what comes next. I’ve never strived to be more until I got out of prison, and then we ran into each other.
And now she’s asking for it, begging for me to lead her down a path I never saw us traveling, which gives me a weird sense of purpose. If nothing else comes from this run-in with her, maybe we both leave feeling satisfied and renewed.
Even though the thought of this ending twists my stomach in knots.
“Are you almost there, Princess?” My words come out in a growl as I feel that tingling in my spine.
“Yes. Fuck, I’m so wet, Javi. I’m gonna come …”
“Let me hear you,” I command as her breath hitches and her whimpers come through the line. I know she’s probably trying to stifle her noises so her co-workers don’t know what’s going on in her office, but hearing her lose control pushes me off the edge as I spill my release on my stomach and moan alongside of her.
She takes a few deep breaths and then I can hear her chuckle. “Did we really just do that?”
I huff out a laugh. “Yeah, we did. I feel better though. I hope you feel the same.”
“Definitely.”
“That should hold us over then until next week?”
“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t tell you I was leaving, but …” I can sense her hesitation in discussing our lives with one another.
“It’s not a problem. But hey, if you need another release while you’re alone in your hotel room, you have my number.” I’m teasing, but part of me hopes she’ll give in to my offer.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Have a good day, Javi.”
“You too, Princess.” I hang up the phone and then reach for a napkin from the glovebox to clean up the mess on my stomach.
As I drive back to the jobsite, I wonder what the hell has gotten into me. I’ve never been the type to jerk-off in the middle of the day, let alone while I’m on the clock. But fuck if hearing Sydney get off over the phone didn’t give me the push to complete the day’s work with one less added distraction.
Now the countdown is on for when I can make her come again in person. Seems I’ve found a new addiction to keep me occupied for the time being—but the question is, will I be able to give her up when the time comes?
Chapter 17
Sydney
Javier: I have a feeling I could entertain you more than your stupid conference.
The text from Javier comes through just as my first session is about to start, and I don’t miss how knowing he was thinking about me in that moment makes a smile build on my lips.
Me: I don’t doubt that. Guess you’ll just have to show me what I’m missing when I get back.
I shoot off the text and then turn my phone on silent, willing my mind to focus on the presenter of my first session. Byron signed me up for this conference months ago, and back then I was eager to attend.
That was before I had a sex-friend as a distraction.
On the drive down here for the conference, I kept replaying the events that led me to this point, wondering how I ended up with a man from my past that has me questioning my future—not in the way where I think Javier and I would end up together—but more as in, how have I managed to go through my life at this point missing out on the type of comfort I feel with him?
I honestly don’t know him very well except for the fact that we went to high school together. I know he definitely grew up differently than I did and that’s part of the reason he had this disdain for me that I finally broke through.
But other than him living in the guest house on his sister’s property and working for Gibson Construction and Elite Gym, there are so many holes in his persona that I’m yearning to fill. And yet, when we connect physically, I feel as if I’ve known him forever—like he knows exactly what I need and can take, and I trust him to give that to me. I’ve never experienced that with any other man, even ones I was with for a long period of time. And now that I have it, it’s filling that void I felt growing recently, especially after my attack. Wasn’t that what I was looking for when I spoke to Ally?
Hours of legal jargon and note taking consume me until the conference pauses for us to feed our stomachs. On my lunch break, I check my phone to make sure I haven’t missed any important calls or emails, forgetting that Javier and I had a small exchange a few hours ago. And when I open his response to my message earlier, I can feel the pink in my cheeks develop as I swallow hard.
Javier: I’m going to have your ass so red and your voice so hoarse from screaming my name that sitting at your desk and doing your boring job is gonna be painful, but you’ll love it because I gave you three orgasms before.
A flash of his handprint marking my ass and the promise of multiple orgasms has me clenching my thighs together, but I pick up on a detail in his text that makes me pause.
Me: As much as that promise makes me itch for our next meeting, I’d like you to know that I actually love my job.
The three little dots pop up on the screen as I wait for his reply.
Javier: What made you want to become a lawyer? What is your specialty anyway?
Could it be that Javier Montes is actually trying to get to know me, asking me about my life without throwing stones about who he thought I was? But wait, isn’t that against his rules?
I ponder my response before I ultimately decide that I kind of want to see how this plays out. I know I want to discover more about the man that is rocking my world between the sheets, so perhaps if I open up, he will too.
Me: My main focus is in probate law, conservatorships, guardianships, contract formation, and I dabble in family law from time to time. You probably know that my stepfather is a judge, so affiliation with the law runs in the family. But my main reason for choosing that avenue was because of what happened with my real dad.
Javier: And what happened?
Me: He died suddenly when I was one, and he and my mother were never married. Because of that she wasn’t entitled to any of his assets, which wasn’t much, but it left her struggling financially. We got kicked out of his house and scrambled to find somewhere to go. If he had just taken the time to set up his estate in the event that he passed, my mother and I would have been a lot better off after he died. I know people can’t plan their deaths, but I use my own personal experience to encourage people to think about what would happen if they did die unexpectedly. I know it sounds morbid, but people need to be prepared.
Javier: I’m sorry to hear about your dad. I didn’t know that.
A few seconds pass and then my phone vibrates again.
Javier: My dad actually died too.
Holy shit! He gave me a morsel. No, more like a chunk of him that helps explain who is a little better. And what do you know? We actually have something in common.
Me: I’m sorry. How old were you?
Javier: Thirteen.
Me: If you don’t mind me asking, how did he die?
I see the bubbles pop up again, but then they vanish and I realize I don’t have time to wait for his response. I stare down at my phone, wondering if he’ll begin typing again, but nothing comes up. Feeling slightly deflated, I throw away my trash and make my way down the hall of the convention center to my next session, checking my phone a few more times before I finally have to silence it again.
By the end of the day, I’m itching to see if Javier ever responded to me because I’m afraid I messed up this thing between us by prying. But at the same time, he pried first, although his question was about my job and I voluntarily divulged the information about my dad.
