Substitute (Xcite Erotic Romance Novels)

by Isobel Rey

‘Can we watch some TV, just for a while?’ she asked.

  Romy was about to protest – she was still waiting to hear about the trip – but Alexia shot her a pleading glance. She needed to blank out for a bit longer.

  Romy picked up the remote and reluctantly switched on the television. They watched a succession of dreary soaps. Alexia wasn’t really concentrating, letting the parade of arguing actors pass in front of her, one programme running into another.

  After an hour and a half Romy could wait no longer. She snapped the TV off and sat facing Alexia, her arms folded. She raised an eyebrow. ‘Well?’ Alexia had helped her demolish a bottle of wine and they had started on a second.

  Slowly, Alexia relayed most of the events of the weekend to Romy, neglecting to tell her how turned on she’d been at the orgy, or what had passed between her and Tony that morning. That was too painful, and Romy didn’t need to know.

  ‘Bloody hell! I’ve been on those trips, but I’ve never seen that – well – never been invited … God, the tabloids would have a field day with all that!’

  ‘You’re telling me!’ said Alexia.

  ‘So did Tony organise it – the girls – or did he just let them get on with it …?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Surprised he didn’t join in!’

  Alexia flushed. She hadn’t told Romy what Tony had done to her as they watched.

  ‘Alex?’

  ‘Well, he did try it on …’

  ‘I bet he did. Weren’t you tempted, even just a little?’

  Alexia didn’t know how to answer. ‘It – all happened so fast …’ She took a large gulp of wine.

  Romy studied Alexia for a moment. ‘And what about Nathan?’

  Alexia stopped drinking.

  ‘What happened with him? Anything?’

  Alexia thought for a moment. ‘I – I don’t know. It’s hard to tell …’

  ‘Mmm. Well, something happened.’

  ‘In the car, on the way home … I managed to tell him about the party – the bathroom.’

  ‘God, you didn’t tell him Tony was with Phillipa, did you? She’ll kill you!’

  ‘No! I didn’t tell him who it was, just that it wasn’t me.’

  ‘Well, that must have been a relief. At least he knows now, knows you aren’t Tony’s bit.’

  Alexia looked at her friend. ‘Yes,’ she said weakly, ‘he knows now.’

  Not Tony’s, thought Alexia. She very nearly was, so very nearly. She still couldn’t get him out of her head. She could still see his eyes in the mirror, feel him pulling her hair, feel the desperate, exquisite pleasure of him smacking her, him playing with her, looking at her intimately, playing with her until he could finally …

  ‘Yeah, now you might get to fuck him!’

  ‘What?’ Alexia was shocked.

  ‘Nathan. You might actually – you know, get off with him.’

  Nathan! Of course, they were talking about Nathan. For a horrible moment, she thought Romy was reading her mind. Alexia shivered. Nathan. She needed to be near Nathan.

  ‘He said if you weren’t well enough to go to work tomorrow then I’d have to go to the tennis bash with him, the one with Jim Brooker,’ she said, desperately hoping her friend would oblige again with a sudden cold.

  ‘And you would like me to be poorly again?’ asked Romy.

  Alexia blushed. Romy laughed.

  ‘Oh you are so funny … Look at you, you’re as red as a tomato!’

  Having Romy point out her tendency to give herself away with maidenly blushes really didn’t help.

  ‘OK, why not? All in a good cause.’ Romy gave a little fake cough. ‘I think I can feel a relapse coming on … I think I should go to bed …’

  Alexia laughed. Romy was a good friend; infuriating at times, but definitely a good friend.

  ‘Right, well, I definitely am off to bed. I was up most of the night with Nicky. God, he can go like a train … I need a night off!’ She leant over and kissed Alexia’s cheek. ‘You better bag that white whale, Captain Ahab, and quick. I can’t keep taking time off.’

  She got up.

  ‘Where’s Richard?’ asked Alexia, not anxious to be left alone.

  ‘Oh, he’ll be back soon. He’s been working at the bar tonight. See you in the morning,’

  ‘Night!’ shouted Alexia as Romy disappeared into her room.

  She put on the TV again and watched some American crime drama. She wasn’t really sure which one; they all merged into each other. At least it’s not Moby Dick, she thought.

  An hour later, she heard the key in the door and Richard came in.

  ‘Well, hello, little lady!’

  She was so pleased to see him. Warm, cuddly, safe Richard. She marvelled at how safe she felt with him. They had been so intimate, and yet he still seemed like just a friend.

  He walked up to her and put his arms around her, planting a huge kiss on her mouth. ‘You look beat,’ he said.

  ‘You could say that,’ Alexia replied, and exhaled.

  ‘Wanna talk about it?’ he asked.

  She shook her head.

  ‘OK then, no talking …’

  ‘There’s food in the kitchen,’ said Alexia.

  ‘Nah, just ate – but I’ll have a glass of that if there’s any left.’

  Richard walked into the kitchen and she followed him, nursing her own glass. He poured himself a generous serving. He drank appreciatively.

  The light in the kitchen was dim; only the under-cupboard lights were on, and they cast an intimate glow in the small space. There was a lamp on the table and it lit up Alexia’s face as she sat down.

  Richard looked at her.

  ‘Well, who switched the light on?’

  ‘What? Oh, I think Romy must have …’ She looked at the lamp.

  ‘Not that,’ said Richard, ‘You!’

  Alexia blinked. She didn’t understand him.

  ‘I don’t know what happened on that trip, or maybe I should say I don’t know who happened, but somebody turned a light on inside of you that wasn’t there before.’

  Alexia was shocked. Did she look so different? And if she did, why? Because of who? Nathan? Tony? Or the footballers and their Bacchanalian orgy? Perhaps all of them. Perhaps the trip had changed her, woken up the sexual being inside her.

  ‘Whatever it was, whoever it was, I like it,’ said Richard. ‘Come here.’

  He took her by the hand and pulled her to standing. He moved her around so her back was against the units and he could look at her with the light behind her, framing her.

  ‘Yes siree,’ he said in corny American slang, ‘I sure do like it.’

  She felt his hands on her shoulders as he looked deep into her eyes.

  ‘Not sure you’re gonna need any more lessons.’

  Alexia looked at him. He was probably right. She felt a pang of regret.

  She moved her hand to his groin and felt he was hard.

  ‘Well, perhaps just one more?’ she said.

  Richard smiled. ‘Sure thing, ma’am.’

  He dropped to his knees and pulled up her nightgown. The familiar blonde triangle greeted him, the quivering pink lips nestling, waiting for his attention.

  ‘I think maybe some revision …’

  She heard Richard’s voice, thick and low. She parted her legs for him, and felt the heat of her own wetness as she exposed her pussy to the air.

  This feeling of nakedness, of openness, was something she needed. Only weeks ago she would never have dreamt she could be so wanting, so free; now she craved it.

  He puckered his lips into a perfect O, then he blew very gently into her curls. She felt the breath dancing on her clit and a delicious tingle ran through the nerves.

  ‘That tickles!’ She laughed. He laughed with her.

  ‘Just checking for cobwebs – but it doesn’t look like they’ve had a chance to gather over the past couple o’ days!’

  She slapped him gently on the side of the head, and heard
him laugh.

  ‘No, my beautiful little pussy,’ he continued, ‘she’s been getting some attention.’

  Alexia’s thoughts flashed back to that morning, of bending over the sink, of Tony’s fingers ramming into her, of him pushing the bullet against her, making her come, then getting ready to fuck her …

  Then Nathan. Nathan’s voice in the background. What if he had walked in on them? The thought made her head swirl and she gave a little moan.

  ‘My, my. It must have been good,’ said Richard, unaware that the moan concealed a painful memory, not a pleasurable one.

  ‘Stop talking, Richard,’ said Alexia, ‘just …’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said. And his mouth was on her. She moaned with the pleasure. She needed his warm tongue, his soft, safe attention. She needed it to block out the morning, to replace it with a happy memory, the way he had done last night on the speakerphone, when he’d brought her to orgasm with his voice, and her own hands.

  He pushed his tongue over her clit and flicked and stroked it. She moaned loudly. Then quickly put a hand over her mouth. She didn’t want to wake Romy. Her flatmate had no idea about their nocturnal classroom.

  Richard continued to work her with his tongue. It was so different from Tony. This was warm and comforting; the pleasure was not as acute but it was all-enveloping. She felt the tendrils of it reaching around her abdomen as he gently tugged at her nub with his teeth and lapped at her with his tongue.

  She ran her fingers through his hair and held his head to her hips as he moved his chin up and down with his tongue, running it along her slit.

  He placed his left hand flat on her lower stomach and pulled up, stretching the skin away from her cunt, exposing her clit even more and making it pop out. He flicked it with his tongue and this time she felt an electric jolt.

  He ran his other hand up her thigh and wiggled his fingers in her lips, like an anemone fluttering against her.

  She felt her juices coating his fingers. Then he slipped two fingers gently inside her, curling them forward against her G-spot.

  ‘Ahhhhh!’ The sound of soft pleasure escaped from Alexia as if her lungs were deflating with relief. She was losing herself in the delicious feel of Richard’s tongue. It was a soft, curling, uncoiling road to orgasm, not a steep, agonising climb as it had been with Tony. She had been close all day, ever since Tony had left her hanging. She felt as if she had been on the brink since she’d fled that bathroom.

  Richard curled and stroked, his fingers working inside as his tongue worked on the opposite bundle of nerves on the outside.

  The exquisite sensation filled Alexia completely and she held his head with both hands now, holding his tongue firmly against her. She was close; she didn’t want him to stop. Tony had kept stopping, making her wait, but Richard would not be so cruel. Richard was warm and tender and he was working for her pleasure.

  He stroked and stroked and Alexia felt it, the encroaching flood of pleasure. She gripped his head and Richard felt the tension in her legs, felt her internal muscles grip his fingers as the contractions started.

  She moaned a long, soft moan as the orgasm unwound in her, a slow uncoiling that turned her veins to liquid mercury.

  She stood against the units, panting. It amazed her how despite making no movements, no effort, an orgasm could leave her so breathless, even if just for a moment.

  Richard stood up, wiping his chin and lips, covered in her, covered in her wet passion.

  ‘Well, I don’t think you need any more revision. I think you have that one down pat!’ Richard chucked her chin. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever made a woman come that quick, someone must have set your motor running before I arrived …’

  Alexia kissed him. She wanted to silence him. She wanted no reminder of earlier attentions, only Richard’s. She could taste herself on his lips.

  ‘What about you?’ she said, running her hand along his erection. It was still tucked in his trousers, but it wanted to be free.

  She undid his fly and took him in her hand. He breathed in hard, holding his breath for a second as he adjusted to the pleasure of being in her hands.

  She started to bend her knees, to go down, but he stopped her.

  ‘Use your hands,’ he said. ‘I want you to look in my eyes when you see me come. You need to know how to tell when a man is really close. That way you can …’

  ‘Control him?’ Alexia finished his sentence.

  ‘Top of the class!’ he said.

  He gripped Alexia’s hand and guided her on his cock, showing her the pressure, the speed. She was shocked by how hard he wanted her to hold it, to run her grip over him.

  She worked hard, and she watched his face as she pulled and clasped him.

  She watched his face as his pleasure mounted, never moving her eyes from his. His eyes became cloudier, his breathing more rapid.

  Harder she worked, moving her fingers in a rippling rhythm to draw out an orgasm, to milk it from him.

  His breathing was rasping now, the air coming from deep in his lungs. On she went, the muscles in her forearm tensing and tiring, but she never looked away, she wouldn’t show him her tiredness. She was going to bring him to climax.

  ‘You’re going to come,’ she said, and it wasn’t a question. He had made no sounds, no moaning, tried to give her no clues, but she knew.

  She gripped harder and wanked him as forcefully as she could.

  ‘Come for me!’

  ‘Aaaahhh!’ Richard exploded. She felt hot come spurt all over her hand, her nightgown; it seemed never-ending as it spilled out of him. He convulsed and his hips thrust forward, making her struggle to hold onto him. He shuddered, as the last drops left him. Then he stopped, breathing very hard. Her eyes never left his. It was an extraordinary intimacy.

  His hands were either side of her, gripping the counter top. He sucked in hard, trying to bring his breathing back to normal. He stood back and grabbed a tea towel.

  ‘Don’t tell Romy!’ He laughed as he wiped Alexia’s hands.

  They both giggled, then he wiped himself and threw the towel into the washing machine.

  He leant forward and kissed her deeply.

  ‘I think my little chick is ready to go into the world,’ he said.

  Alexia smiled. She hoped he was right.

  Chapter Twelve

  The alarm clock shook Alexia out of her slumber. She reached an arm out and hit the off button. Ten more minutes. She turned over.

  She’d set the alarm early to make sure she’d have enough time to dress well and perfect her make-up. She’d be on show again today, at Wimbledon – with Nathan.

  Which Nathan would she get today? she wondered. The cool professional or the gentle, concerned boss? He could switch so suddenly from one to the other. Jekyll and Hyde? No, that was Carter. Nathan was a mystery but she didn’t sense a dark side. Troubled perhaps, but not dark.

  Her head was thumping. She had slept very deeply, and the wine had dehydrated her. She reached over and opened her bedside cabinet, fishing around with her hand to find her painkillers, when her hands fell on something unfamiliar. She pulled out a long box.

  She blinked, trying to adjust her eyes to the semi-darkness. She read the dark lettering. Rampant Rabbit.

  She sat bolt upright. On the front of the box was a shocking pink Post-it note with a smiley face on it and one word. “Romy!” Followed by a large X.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ said Alexia out loud. Was the whole world trying to turn her into a sex addict?

  She looked at the box again. She’d never owned a rabbit, though she’d certainly heard of them. Who hadn’t? She pulled the cardboard open at one end and the clear plastic tray that contained her new toy slid out with a scrape. Her new toy! The idea sent a small, illicit thrill through her. What was it about vibrators? Why did they seem so – well, naughty? Such an old fashioned word, but it fitted.

  The rabbit was the same colour as the Post-it. Typical Romy. Even her sex toys had to be beautiful.


  At the base was a slightly bulbous part in clear plastic filled with little coloured beads. Decoration? It sheath was long and thick, but not as thick as Nathan, thought Alexia, and she’d only seen him relaxed.

  She felt a curling sensation in her sex. How could just the thought of him naked do that? She thought of his body, how the water had run down his torso, down around his long cock as he’d stood in the shower. Her fingers curled around the vibrator. Nathan.

  She wished suddenly that Romy had warned her about the toy, told her to buy the batteries that would bring it to life. She slapped it down on the bed in frustration.

  Alexia looked at the clock. Still plenty of time. She reached down to the floor and picked up her laptop. She flicked it on and surfed quickly to the pictures of Nathan she’d found before.

  A new picture emerged. Nathan with Iorizzo, Lopez, and Carsten. All smiling for the camera. Alexia felt a strange tug of pride. Days ago she’d looked at his image and seen a stranger, but now … She was there, she was right there, standing just behind the photographer!

  She reached down and touched her pussy, but it was too soon, she wasn’t ready. She looked at the rabbit with its delicious pink ears, soft jelly that could hum and shiggle to coax even the most reluctant clit.

  Damn it! she thought. She looked at the useless lump of rubber and plastic. It’s no use like this! But as she stared at it, a slow realisation brought a cautious smile to her lips. Romy was a PA. And a good PA takes care of everything, leaving nothing to chance, nothing left undone. Every little detail …

  Alexia picked up her rabbit and clicked. Buzzzzzzzzzz.

  She giggled. ‘You think of everything, don’t you?’ she said as if Romy had been in the room.

  The pink beads swirled and jiggled around and around in their casing, as the head rotated. So that’s what they were for. She imagined the stimulation they would give, colliding against each other as they jostled in their casing, around and around.

  Alexia breathed out and closed her eyes. She lay back and pulled her nightie up to expose her body. She was still covered by her quilt; she kicked it to the end of the bed.

  She stretched out her legs and brought the lightly humming rabbit ears up to her nipples. She looked across the bed at Nathan; he stared straight at her.