Fling

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Fling Page 6

by Erin Havoc


  Her inner walls grip around me like a fist. Air rushes from my lungs as I buck, wedging another inch inside her.

  “Fucking hell, baby,” I hiss against her lips. “Tell me you’re fine. Fuck, you’re so tight.”

  Her inner walls clamp down on me, so fucking hard it’s unbelievable.

  I sink another inch and her head drops back against the pillows. Bliss takes her face as she moans my name and nods, her eyes rolling to the back of her head.

  “Baby,” I call her again. “I need you to say it. I’m about to ram into this virgin pussy of yours and I need to be sure you’re all right.”

  “I’m okay,” her voice rattles out. “I’m all right, you can… do it…” Her eyes snap open. “Fuck me, Jasper. Fuck me.”

  A grin slashes across my face, and I kiss her. “As you wish.”

  For a moment, it’s a tight struggle, but I’m finally seated fully inside her. I take a moment to catch my breath. Then I pull out and slam back home.

  Christine moans and her juices cover me. Fucking hell, I hate the condom. I hate that inch of latex between us, separating us. Keeping us apart.

  Once more, I pull back and slam back in, until Christine’s moans are silky enough that I let my restraints snap.

  And I fucking pound into her.

  It’s impossible to hold back when her ankles come up my shoulders, her tits bouncing hard, her nails digging into my flesh. Impossible when she’s screaming my name and my balls hit her backside as I bend her to my will.

  She lets me do whatever I wish to her body. I use her for her own pleasure. I fold and bend and turn, and I ram into her tight pussy until her juices coat my sheets.

  Christine screams all the way through her first two orgasms, one after the other. I tilt her hips up so I can slam my cock against her G-Spot, and I’m greeted with yet another howl of pleasure from her beautiful mouth.

  Our bodies covered in a thin veil of sweat, I kiss her knee and inner thigh once I feel the approach of my release. I’ve been holding it in and I deserve a fucking medal for being able to give her so much pleasure before I tumble off the edge.

  Because she’s had me through my balls from the moment, I saw her first picture.

  “Oh, God!” She cries out, clawing at my thighs, her head thrashing from side to side. “Fuck!”

  “What a dirty mouth, baby,” I pant as I gawk at her tits juggling. “What should I do about that mouth of yours?”

  Her eyes glitter up in defiance at me. “Stuff your fat cock inside, maybe?”

  There. That does it.

  The tingle runs down my spine so fast I don’t have time to let her know I’m coming. My balls squeeze so hard I gasp, and release barrels down my body. Hard, so hard it’s like light flashing across my eyes, a punch to the guts, and for a moment I think I’m dying.

  Then I hear someone growling like an animal, and I come down out of pure instinct to protect her. But it’s just me. It’s just me as I hump through the last of my throes against her, my body not entirely my own.

  No, it’s half hers now. I belong to her.

  All my strength leaves me and I plop down over her, catching myself with an elbow at the last possible second.

  Her lips are on me next, her arms around my form. Her soft breaths against my neck, I savor the moments I’m still inside her, my heartbeat slowly quieting.

  But not for long. There’s still much to do before the night’s over.

  07

  * * *

  CHRISTINE

  W

  hat day is it?

  Of what year?

  I wake up bundled in too comfortable sheets and darkness cradling me. Silence lulls me back into a soft sleep before I wake up again. My body aches the best of aches, from my legs up to my arms, from my breasts to my femininity. I reach down, touching my naked mound beneath the sheets. A tingling sensation crosses me, and I chuckle against the pillow as the last night comes back.

  I’m still in Jasper’s place. He made love to me several times until I was too exhausted to keep going. I’m pretty sure I might have dozed off in the middle of the act.

  Sunlight peeks through his blinds, but I have no idea what time is it. My phone’s still inside my purse, on the living room floor, and my only appointment is late into the afternoon with Hazel. I’m in no hurry.

  Stretching an arm over the sheets, I feel the coldness touching my digits. Jasper’s not here, and he hasn’t been here for a while. Curling my nose, I try to fall asleep again and wait for him to wake me up.

  But will he?

  My heart, silly and gullible, hopes he will wake me up with breakfast in bed and promises. He’ll kiss me and ask me to stay.

  Just a fling. But this man has made me feel so much, he’s made me feel so right... I might have fallen in love with him. And I don’t even care it’s been just one night. I want him. Forever.

  But he has never said anything to make me believe he wants more. He was crystal clear from the beginning — just sex. Once it’s over, we go our separate ways. He’s been gentle and kind and careful because he knew, from the moment he saw my profile, that I was inexperienced. A virgin. He wanted me to enjoy it.

  And I did. I loved every second with him. From the moments he was making me come my brains out to the chats we had, legs intertwined, his fingers brushing along my hips.

  The way he looked at me made me want to spill the beans. Tell him everything. My secrets and my fears, my goals, and naughty fantasies.

  Sitting up, I pry my ears for any sound within the house. The place is utterly silent, even if the bedroom door is half-open. Did he go somewhere? Did he... leave me?

  Why? It’s his place. He could have woken me up and sent me off. Yesterday, he nestled me between his strong arms and kissed me before I dozed off, his cock still buried inside me. He could have shaken me up and bid me gone.

  But he didn’t. He let me stay.

  Until now, at least.

  I remember something I mentioned to him yesterday. No, I didn’t mention. I poured my heart out. Between sex number three and number four, I had told him about my ex, the joint account, the debts. He listened, nodding, a hand running up and down my exposed thigh. I thought he had been paying attention, but maybe... Maybe he was already developing this idea inside his head.

  To leave his house before I woke up so he wouldn’t have to deal with me. Adding to the fact it was all supposed to last only one night, I had to go and make a fool of myself. I had to tell him my greatest shame. How I had been scammed by someone I thought loved me. How I couldn’t pay the debt, how I had to work overtime and do small jobs at Hazel’s café. How I was in deep shit for the next years, no closure in sight.

  Kicking the sheets away, I touch the balls of my feet to the floor. The cold is sharp enough to wake me up completely. So completely I immediately know he’s left.

  Upon an easy chair, Jasper has folded my dress and dropped my purse over it. My shoes are propped to a side. Feeling a last inch of rebellion, I leave the bedroom. Naked.

  I cross my fingers not to meet a maid or something. But the place is deserted. There’s not a sound inside, surely meaning the windows are soundproof. It’s eerily aggravating. Like a beautiful, perfect layer of paint you want to smash your fist in.

  My heart thundering inside my chest, I whirl back inside the bedroom. In the darkness, I get dressed and step inside my shoes. There are no messages as I flick the screen of my phone on. Not a word from him.

  He’s gone. And he doesn’t want anything else with me.

  So I slip out of his apartment and back into my real life. Back into the emptiness and the feeling dejected the whole time. With only his memory in the back of my mind.

  Taking a cab back to my place, I hold back the tears until I’m home, able to hug my dog and weep without bothering anyone. I sob as I uninstall Tinder and brew strong coffee. The day is not over, and I’ll have to suffer through it all without him.

  I have known him for a day, and I have
fallen in love with him. There’s no way around it. He has marked me forever, but it’s nothing more than a fling. And I’ll be aching for his touch for the rest of my days.

  08

  * * *

  JASPER

  G

  ritting my teeth, I hiss air out of my lungs until they’re empty. Then I suck it back in.

  “I don’t want this tomorrow,” I roar against the phone. “I want this. Right. Fucking. Now.”

  “Sir,” my assistant quakes from the other side of the line. “It’s Sunday. We can get a start off today, but the banks won’t be open until tomorrow morning...”

  My heart is kicking in my chest so hard I wish I could reach inside the phone and shake Daniel.

  The woman of my life is lying sprawled on my bed. But she can’t put her walls down. No, she has too much to deal with. And I’m taking all these problems off her hands.

  First thing I did was buying the studio she works at.

  The owner was sleepy when I rang him up and offered much more money than the small business was worth. He accepted it on the spot. That part had been easy. I just had to contact my finances manager and tell him to prepare the paperwork to be signed around lunch.

  I would have Christine not working. I would have the two of us lying around, loving each other, bodies intertwined for days on end. But unfortunately, that’s not how the world turns and she loves photography so much I’m sure she’ll want to keep working with that.

  So now she has her studio. She can do whatever she wants with it, as long as it makes her happy.

  The next thing on my list requires a bit more stress.

  Her darned ex-boyfriend — whom I already sent a detective after — left her with a huge amount of debt. This fucking bank better solve this whole shit as soon as they’re open tomorrow or they’ll have a problem. I’ve never used my name and influence for something personal like this. It was about time.

  “Sir, I’ll have everything ready and I’ll contact the manager so he knows what’s happening. But we won’t have a solution up until the morning,” Daniel says into the phone, his voice brittle.

  Do I give people around me this much fear?

  My previous self was always frustrated with life. And I never guessed it was because I was missing her. Christine.

  Now that I have her, there’s no reason for this much stress. God forbid me having a heart attack and leaving her a widow even before we’re married.

  That’s another item on the list. I have to buy the rings. Sucking on my teeth, I pace around my office, wondering if Tiffany’s already open.

  Releasing my breath, I remember last night and how much we shared about our lives. I told her about the stressful job, and Christine said I should take it easier on people. Not worry so much, give them a chance to prove themselves.

  She’s been in my life for less than twenty-four hours and she’s already making me want to be a better person. For her. For our future together.

  “Very well, Daniel.” I shoot a glance at the closed door of my office. It’s shut so I won’t bother Christine while she sleeps. But a weariness has started to take hold of my heart. I brush a hand over my chest. “I’m… I’m sorry for being too hard on you. Let the manager know I’ll want the debt crossed out first thing tomorrow.”

  “Will do, sir.” There’s a tinge of skepticism in his voice.

  I clear my throat. If Christine was listening to the exchange, she’d cock a brow and insist I end the call in a nicer tone. “Thanks, Daniel.”

  He gasps in shock through the line before I hang up. It’s not coming naturally just yet, but soon it will. I’d do anything to make her happy, and she does believe giving people the benefit of doubt may help.

  But the weariness’s still here.

  Odd. Striding to the office’s door, I crack it open and wait for any sound to come. It’s an ominous feeling. As if something bad is about to happen.

  But the house’s silent. I tell myself it’s nothing and I should check if Tiffany’s already open, but I can’t convince myself to turn back into the office. My heart aches as if a fist clutches it. For a moment, I think I am having a heart attack.

  Then I walk into my bedroom and find the bed empty.

  My stomach bottoms out.

  Where is she? Good God, where is she?

  The bathroom. Calm down, she’s in the bathroom. My heart beats so loud it’s the only thing I hear. Whirling around, I reach for the doorknob. But the door is open ajar, and she’s not inside. I run around the house, from room to room, searching for her.

  But she’s nowhere to be seen.

  Raking my memory, I search for any signs, clues that she had to leave early in the morning. But there are none. She said nothing.

  Didn’t she want to be with me? Fuck, my heart hurts so much I gasp as I reach back for my phone inside my office. No messages, no voice mails, nothing.

  I don’t have her number. I fucking forgot to ask for it.

  How the fuck did I miss this?

  I was so mesmerized by her presence I thought she felt the same. What an idiot! How could I have forgotten about her past and insecurities? She had been dumped and betrayed by her ex. Why would she trust me so quickly when I... I haven’t told her how I felt.

  Realization dawns on me. I spent the whole night so worried about not frightening her off that I completely overlooked telling her how I felt. She didn’t know I was in love with her. She didn’t know I was obsessed with her and wanted to marry her and have kids with her.

  Christine thought it all had been a one-night stand like we had agreed on.

  I ruined it. I fucking ruined my one chance at love.

  Opening Tinder, I click my way to our messages. But her picture’s gone, a gray circle letting me know the profile has been deleted.

  I drop to my knees, staring at it in disbelief. Pain, utter and sharp pain slices through me and I grind my teeth together. Bending, I slam a fist against the soft carpet and bellow, rage and bitter regret hitting me like a train.

  What have I done? She deleted her account and disappeared from my life without as much as a goodbye.

  The woman of my life. The one I love.

  Fumbling with my phone, heaving in pain, I open the messages I have been exchanging with my detective and tell him I need him to find her too. That’s the top priority.

  Her. Christine. She’s the only thing that matters in my life.

  09

  * * *

  CHRISTINE

  B

  est day ever.

  Not.

  Last night was a dream. I was still floating on clouds, tears held back, when I strode to Hazel’s café. A beautiful dream, one I had dismissed once I met Hazel, and one I’d always keep inside my heart. My mind drifts away, remembering Jasper’s hands on me and his lips on my skin. And how he made me feel like I belonged.

  Even if I don’t.

  As I walk away from a customer, I let my fake smile drop. Resting my elbows on the counter, I clear my throat to catch Hazel’s attention. “Two cappuccinos and a slice of red velvet cake for table four.”

  “Sure thing. Do you mind registering it while I fetch a tray?” She points to the cashier and leaves, not waiting for my answer. I walk around the counter, holding back a sigh.

  It isn’t Hazel’s fault I’m moody. On the contrary. She’s incredibly generous for giving me a temporary job here. One of the girls is vacationing for a month which was a stroke of luck for a recently-unemployed person like me.

  My boss called around lunch to fire me. He sold the studio and held not an inch of regret for letting me go. I could hear his grin through the call.

  What an asshole.

  I have a month to find a new job. Hazel can only keep me this far, and I have bills to pay.

  Also, don’t forget the college loan and the debt. Something tells me sex with Jasper is going to be the only good thing in my life for a while.

  What a shame I’m not having it anymore.

&nbs
p; I register and pull the printed order at the same moment Hazel comes back with a new tray. I whirl around to prepare the cappuccinos as she cuts a generous slice of one of her delicious cakes.

  “Sundays are the best,” she sing-songs, eying the store over the counter as she’s bent behind it. “There are plenty of tips for you to make.”

  “I hope it gets better. That old man that kept winking at me left, like, a penny.” I laugh, but the sound is dry and weird. I feel my friend’s eyes on me for a moment, so I settle the coffee cups on the tray and, as soon as she puts the cake slice next to them, I step away from the counter.

  In an obvious attempt to avoid her, I stalk around the café, greeting customers and asking if I can get them anything else. Some accept, others don’t, and I manage to avoid my friend for ten minutes or so, even if her glare burns into my back.

  I approach the counter once more, lying my notepad down as I start to type the orders on the register. “We need two more cappuccinos, a-“

  “Look, Christine.” Hazel closes the space between us, her arm pressing against mine. “I’m your boss now. If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, I’ll fire you.”

  My brows shoot up. “That’s tyranny. Also, there’s nothing wrong. Apart from the fact that I’ll be penniless next month and probably arrested for not paying my debts.”

  She yanks the notepad from me, dangling it in front of my face. “So you’re telling me that’s the only reason you’re crumpling this poor piece of paper?”

  I don’t feel like talking about it, so I turn back to my order. “Do you think I need anything more? I’m screwed. For life, probably.”

  She stretches her arm over the keyboard, preventing me from typing. I let a dramatic sigh out, my head drooping. I cock it in her direction next.

  Hazel clenches her jaw, whispering. “Where is that Jasper hottie you met yesterday? You never said anything else after you left.”

 

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