by Alexa Blue
“No, Amanda,” I cut in. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. I guess I was just upset to hear you met up with Christian and I know you deserve so much better.”
“That’s why I love you, my friend. You always have my best interest at—"
“Anyway,” I continue, “let’s meet up for lunch to make up for yesterday, say at one, this afternoon?”
There’s a slight hesitation in Amanda’s voice, before saying, “it’s a date.”
“Can’t wait, and we still have celebrating to do. Don’t be late.”
I hang up the phone and smile anxiously.
It’s not that I don’t want Amanda to find love, but rather that I know she deserves better than that dickhead of a man, Christian. Amanda might be naïve to think good guys exist, but no one knows what assholes men can be than I do. In fact, if I had to see him, I’d slap him right across the face. Amanda will not be Christian’s next ‘feat’ if I have anything to say about it.
I slip into a flowery dress Amanda had always complimented me on and make my face up to perfection. I need to make sure I look my absolute best for lunch this afternoon. After a few sprays of Chanel Chance, I head off to News Cafe. After the scene I caused yesterday, I have a lot of apologizing to do. But, I will also explain why I was so mad at her, and she will understand that I only reacted that way because I want what's best for her. After all, she has had my back since we were in high school. If it were not for Amanda, I would have given up on my dream to be a model after a very embarrassing fall the first time I took to the ramp. She helped me become everything I am today, and I will be damned if I allow a man to ruin all the progress she’s made—progress we’ve made.
I’m five minutes early, and all eyes turn to me as I stroll into News Cafe. Hungry eyes gaze over me, despite sitting with their wives or girlfriends.
A guy smiles at me as I walk past him. I stop and turn to face him, “Pay more attention to your girlfriend, dickhead,” I tell him before making it a point to sit as far away from him as possible.
Just another reminder why I’m done with men.
Moments later, she walks in. It's as if time itself comes to a complete standstill as I take in her every step. Amanda has a natural beauty about her, an effortless beauty. She pauses to pick up a piece of paper someone chucked on the floor before she notices me waving to grab her attention.
"Steph, I am so sorry!" Amanda says before she takes her seat. She stands next to me, and I can tell she has no intentions of sitting, not without me accepting her apology first.
I stand to my feet and have to bend down to hug her. “No, babe, I should be the one apologizing.”
Amanda looks relieved when I tell her all is forgiven.
“I got a bit carried away last night,” Amanda starts, “I suppose I just wanted to feel intimate with someone. Like what’s the point in achieving stuff with no one to share them with?”
I reach forward and take Amanda’s hands in mine. “That’s why you have a best friend.”
From the smile Amanda gives me, I can tell she’s not picking up on the hint.
“You know I love you and I only want what’s best for you, Amanda. I guess I got so upset because I know Christian, I also know what a dickhead he is and that he’s only using you.”
Amanda’s face sinks. “I get that Stephy, but, you’re stunning, hell you can have anyone you want.” Amanda lets out a defeated sigh. “I’m not always so lucky, so I guess I just got excited when I connected with a guy again.”
“But, we don’t need men, Amanda.”
“I suppose,” Amanda forces a smile. “I guess I’m just feeling sorry for myself… like you don’t know what it’s like to want something you probably won’t ever have.”
I take a sip of my coffee before giving my friend an embracing smile. "Anyway, fuck Christian. We have bigger things to talk about like how amazing was that show?!”
Deciding this is a celebration, Amanda doesn’t feel guilty about ordering a Sex on The Beach from the waitress at this hour. “It was everything I have always dreamed of.”
I lean in closer into Amanda. “But I have bigger news for you…”
Amanda leans in as if she’s about to hear the juiciest gossip. “Do tell.”
“Mark Daniels contacted me and said he liked your designs so much that he would like to have them showcased in his annual Spring Fashion show.”
Amanda lets out a sound that resembles pig squeaking. “You’re fucking kidding. Wait, that’s next week?” She stands to her feet and jumps up and down on the spot.
Watching my best friend so happy is everything. But, Amanda is wrong about one thing. I can’t have everything I want. Not when the one thing I want would probably never feel the same way about me.
Chapter Five
Christian
Days go by, and I feel like I’m losing my mind. She is all I fucking think about. At night, when I stroke on my cock; she runs through my mind. Whenever I notice people littering on the street, I wonder how she would react—if she’d also give them that death glare she gave me.
Unable to wait any longer, I decide to phone Amanda.
“Hello?”
The sweet sound of her voice almost drives me over the fucking edge.
“Hello, beautiful.”
There’s a pause, a hesitation in her voice before she speaks again. “Christian?”
“I hope there isn’t anyone else,” I tease.
Brief silence. I speak again. “I want to see you again.”
“Err… What? When?”
“Now.”
“Christian, I’m so—”
“No,” I interrupt, “I’m not accepting no for an answer. I want to see you one more time.”
More hesitation followed by a sigh of the other end of the phone. “How did you get my number?”
“You left your bag with me at Paddys, so I took it.”
Another hesitation.
“I don’t know, Christian. When do you want to meet up?”
"Right now. I'll text you my details," I say and hang up before allowing her to refuse.
I signal for Camila’s attention. “Hi, sweety. I need you to have lunch prepared a little earlier today. Also, I need you to get a few Heineken beers before this afternoon?”
"You having a party, Mr. Steele?" She asks in a deep Spanish accent.
"I guess you could say that. I have a special friend coming over."
Camila offers an awkward smile before heading out to the shops. Camila has been with me since I first started the business. I have two other helpers in the house, but only trust my most important tasks with Camila.
The doorbell sounds, echoing in the house, and sending shrills of enthusiasm down my spine.
I open the door, and for a moment, I’m frozen. I try speaking, but the words won’t form. Hell, I didn't think it was possible, but she looks even sexier than the last time I saw her. “Did you invite me over to stare at me?” Amanda breaks my lust-filled train of thought.
“Oh, of course not. Come on in.”
Amanda enters the house, and her eyes immediately shoot up to the ceiling. She takes a few moments to admire my house before turning to me. "Whose house have you broken into?" She asks, finally.
I hold my chin up high, a smirk grin plastered on my face. “This is my house.”
I offer her a tour of the house. She’s fascinated by every room in the house, except the bedroom. The main bedroom was the only room she refused to step foot into. Mentioned something about not wanting to give me any ideas.
The door sounds, and Camila enters. "Right on time, Camila." I turn to Amanda, "I had Camila go out and get you your favorite beer.”
Most people would take that as a sweet gesture, but judging from the glare Amanda shoots at me, she doesn’t seem impressed.
“Also, if you need anything, Camila will cook it for you. She is the best cook I know.”
Another evil glare.
Sensing the tension, Camila smiles aw
kwardly before heading off to the kitchen.
Once Camila leaves the dining room and is out of ear’s reach, Amanda turns to me. “Why are you such a dick?”
My mouth falls open, and my hand pulls to my chest as if she had just stabbed me with a knife. “I got her to go out for you, and now I’m a dick?”
“You sent out an old lady to get me beers. Something you could very easily have done yourself.”
Few people ever make me feel shit about my decisions, but Amanda has a way of making me rethink every decision I’ve made.
For the first time, I place my hands on her shoulders. The sparks of electricity that shoots through us lands straight in my bulging cock. God, I could rub on her smooth velvety skin all fucking day. “I don’t often admit this, but you’re right, darling.”
I grab onto her hand, our fingers intertwined, as I lead her to the kitchen. “Camila, please don’t worry about the cooking today. I think it’s time for me to try my hand at cooking for a change.”
In the corner of my eye, I can see Amanda beaming. Even my helper gives me a look of doubt but reluctantly agrees. "Also, I'm sorry for sending you out to get beers. Why don't you take the rest of the day off?"
Camila gives me an incredulous stare as if she's wondering whether this is some sort of test.
Amanda's eyes gloss over me. From the way her eyes connect to mine and run down my body, I can feel the desire in her gaze. She's dressed in another skirt, this time shorter than when I first saw her. My cock stiffens further as I run my eyes down her body, pausing to take in the sight of her perfectly pedicured toes. She has the most perfect toes I have ever seen. I vow to take her sexy toes in my mouth once I make her mine. I swear to lick every part of her sexy body once I get the chance to claim her as my own.
Unable to control myself any longer, I press Amanda against the kitchen counter. Grabbing onto the sides of her face, my breath meets hers. She looks up at me, her lips parted. I hold my gaze while raking my fingers through her curls before leaning down on her. My body presses into hers. She feels my cock rubbing up against her as I slip my tongue inside her mouth.
She lets out a gasp as she welcomes my tongue inside her and our tongues dance in a swirl of passion as I continue working my hands down her back. I so desperately want to lift her by her beautiful thick thighs and spread her across the counter as I fill her, but I know it’s not about me getting off. Right now, the only thing that matters is having her change her mind about me.
As we break off, I spend a few more moments gazing into her eyes, meeting hers with desperation.
Amanda lets out quick, successive pants when she speaks again. “Guess what?”
My eyes grow large, hoping she’d tell me she wants nothing more than to feel my hardened cock inside her. “What?”
“You still haven’t started cooking.”
Amanda
Christian plants a kiss on my forehead before lifting himself off from me.
“If I must cook, then I should wear an apron.”
“If you insist,” I say, struggling to hold back the squeak of amusement that forms in my voice. I focus on regaining my breath as I watch him walk off, glancing at those defined butt cheeks pressing against his jeans. For a moment, a very brief moment, I allow my mind to wander and imagine what his ass looks like underneath those jeans.
Everything about this moment is so wrong. And of course, I don't mention my plans of coming over to Stephanie. But I figured this would be the last time I see him. I'm used to having full control over everything in my life until I met Christian. As much as I know that kiss was wrong, I ached for it. I ached for his hands running through my hair and down my back. His touch is strong and firm, yet when he slips his tongue inside my mouth, it feels like soft velvet rubbing against me.
Just the thought alone of having another kiss from Christian drives my pussy wet—like some teenager unable to control her hormones.
I did not expect him to live in a house like this. If anything, I imagined him to live in a bachelor’s pad with old laundry and dirty dishes scattered on the floor. I already planned on how I’d help him clean up the mess once I’d arrive.
But that’s far from the case, with floor to ceiling windows, furniture that probably costs more than my car and different helpers popping up at every corner, I can tell he’s in a league of his own, though I still have no idea what he does for a living.
My jaw drops as Christian walks back into the room. I try shying away, but can’t help but let my greedy eyes run all over his body. Christian returns wearing the apron like he said he would, except I didn’t expect him to remove every other item of clothing.
I stare on with large eyes, “Um, you look good.”
He brushes his hands against the fabric of his black, creased apron. This is probably the first time it’s been used, and I’m the lucky gal that gets to see it first.
Delicate hairs run up his large feet, which are easily a size eleven. From what I can see, he has a tribal tattoo inked around both his ankles. His hairy, but muscled chest is on full display as he stands in front of me, grinning. It’s only when he turns around and reaches down for a pan that I realize he isn’t wearing any pants either. My breathing sharpens as I try fighting back the drool I feel forming on the top corners of my mouth as I take in the image of his muscled ass.
“Um,” I say, standing to my feet. “Let me help with the cooking,” I offer, but really, I just need to take my mind off from the sexy, naked man standing in front of me. My pussy is wet again, dripping with desperation.
"No, beautiful," Christian says turning to me and presses the wooden spatula gently against my breasts as he guides me back to the stool I was sitting on. "I'm cooking for you. Today you will get a taste of my world-famous dish."
My cheeks flush with heat. “Dare I ask what you’re making?”
“Not unless you want to ruin the surprise.”
Lunch is served twenty minutes later. Scrambled eggs with coriander leaves sprinkled on the top, and two slices of white bread cut into what looks to be the shape of a heart on a side plate.
"Bon appétit," Christian says. From the glisten in his eye, I can tell how proud he is of this dish. Scrambled eggs and toast are not what I had in mind, but I can’t think of anything better. I’ve never had a man cook for me before, never had a man make me feel this fucking special.
“I’m still hungry,” Christian tells me after sweeping the food from his plate. He’s still dressed in nothing but his ultra revealing apron.
I give him a warm smile. “Okay, now it’s time for me to make something for you to eat.”
He pushes my plate to the side and gazes intently into my eyes. His chestnut brown eyes are unapologetic, filled with intent.
“Darlin,’ no preparation work is required for what I want to eat.”
I catch my breath. “Oh, and… um, what would that be?”
“What I want to eat is sitting right in front of me.”
Chapter Six
Amanda
My breath skips as Christian stands to his feet. His cock presses against his apron, giving me a slight preview of what is yet to come.
I stare on with parted lips as he closes down on me. My lips tremble as he pulls out my chair. I watch on anxiously, in eager expectation of his next move.
“Oh, fuc—” I gasp as he lifts me up, swooping his arms behind my back and legs. In his strong arms, I fit like a glove. His cock presses against my thighs as he carries me up to the stairway and into his bedroom.
Christian places me on the bed, and his eyes gloss over me, taking in every curve of my body. Usually, I would feel so uncomfortable having someone look at me with such intensity, but with Christian, it feels right.
Laying flat against the bed, I spread my legs slightly when Christian flips off his apron. For the first time, I have a good view of his cock. Christian's feet are not the only thing massive about him. His hardened cock easily stands at nine inches long and with an impressive girth
to match.
He rests his naked body on top of me as he climbs over me and captures my lips in a kiss. I fear he will discover the wetness that has formed on my pussy, but when I try closing my legs under him, he places his hands against my inner thighs. I lay back, taking in the ecstasy of his touch, and know I am entirely at his mercy.
He lifts my top over my head, and I try covering my stomach with my hands, which he pulls away. "Don't you dare cover this beautiful body of yours! I want to see every inch of you,” he leans down and speaks against my belly, “I want to kiss every inch of you.”
My head falls back as his devilish tongue works up my stomach, and he reaches for the bra strap behind my back.
For someone that doesn’t think highly of sex, I would never have imagined anyone could orgasm just from having her nipples caressed, but right now, I’m pretty fucking close. Christian takes my buds in between his fingers and brings his lips to my stiff nipples.
His gentle nibbles send ripples of pleasure throughout my body as he reaches down where it aches most. Spreading my legs further, the hairs of his beard tickle against my thighs as he takes in a deep whiff of my scent. Christian lowers my wet panties, and the sight of my juices glistening on my pussy brings a beam to his face.
“Someone’s excited!”
Heat rushes over my body at his comment that lands straight in my aching cunt. My legs wrap around his shoulders, and he brings the tips of his tongue against my entrance.
"Oh Jesus, Christian," I squirm, but he holds my legs in place as his tongue enters my slippery entrance and his thumb rubs against my clit.
With every moment that passes, I feel myself losing more and more control. My breathing grows erratic as he increases the pressure on my clit, rubbing me up into an uncontrollable state of ecstasy.
