Felicia picked up another roll, took a very tiny bite and chewed. “I’m done.”
I almost laughed. But I just took the roll out of her hand and set it down on the coffee table. “It’s about fucking time.”
She did laugh. “Impatient bastard.”
“I’ve been called worse things.” I dropped my mouth over her breast and drew her nipple into my mouth so I could tease and tug at the taut bud.
Her fingers drifted into my hair. I shifted, kissing her neck, her earlobe.
When I kissed her on the lips she sighed and ran her touch down my shoulders.
Then she pushed me away again.
“What?” I asked, searching her face. Maybe she was a one-and-done kind of woman.
“Take your shirt off, please.”
That was an easy order to follow. “Sure.” I peeled it off and dropped it onto my concrete floor.
She was resting against the back of the couch, the robe still belted, but pulled apart at her chest and gaping at her inner thighs. She had a mysterious, naughty little expression on her face that seriously turned me on. I reached for her.
She held her hand up. “Take your pants off too.”
Was this where she somehow handcuffed me to the coffee table and robbed me blind? It felt a little bit like that. It also felt a little bit like there was no fucking way I was going to say no. Let her take my money if that was her intent. At least I’d had fun getting conned.
“Whatever you say.” I ditched the sweats.
Felicia pushed on my chest again, only this time, she straddled me, so I realized what she wanted was me on my back. And her on top. I decided to let her because she looked so pleased with herself, ordering me around. Wait until it was my turn to be in charge.
“You’re very handsome,” she said, as she ran her hands over my chest. “In case I hadn’t mentioned that.”
“Thanks.” Amused, I held her waist and watched her explore her way down my body.
She wrapped her hand around my cock. “And this… this is very impressive.”
My cock jumped in appreciation and got even harder. “What do you want more, to suck me or to fuck me?”
“Why be forced to choose?” she asked. “I’ll do one, and then the other.”
Hell yeah. “I have no objections to that plan.”
The view of her dark hair spilling over my chest and her ass in those tiny red panties rising behind her as she shifted over my cock was one I wasn’t going to forget for a long time. It was a fantasy sprung to life. I wrapped her hair around my fingers and tugged a little, wanting to assert some dominance even when she was in the power position.
Her tongue flicked over the tip of my cock and lithe fingers brushed over my balls, testing, teasing. When she eased her mouth down the length of my shaft, I gave her an encouraging moan. “That’s it, baby. Take it all.”
She glanced up at me from under her dark lashes, her lips wrapped around my cock.
Then she winked at me.
Holy shit, she was the most fascinating woman I’d ever met. I couldn’t predict anything she was going to do or say and that should be unnerving, but it wasn’t. It was exciting.
She dropped her head again and as she sucked me in and out I gripped her hair harder. I could feel the pull of her touch all the way into my balls. Damn, she was trying to destroy me.
“Felicia,” I said, voice rough. “That’s enough.”
For a second I didn’t think she was going to stop. It was a good thing I wasn’t twenty-one anymore. I had control over myself. But then she drew back and let go of my cock with one final slide of her tongue across the tip. Her expression was smug as she wiped her lips off.
“Yum,” she said.
She was definitely going to kill me. “Hand me a condom,” I said.
She was already shimmying out of her panties.
“I’ve got it.” She grabbed a foil packet off the table and opened it. She then started to roll it down on my cock.
I put my hand over hers so that we could do it together. It wasn’t in my nature to be still. I needed to be part of the action.
Which was why once she eased her wet pussy down onto me, I let her have a minute or two of rolling her hips and fucking me, but then I took her waist with my hands and forced her still. I wanted more, faster, harder. I set a pounding rhythm and she moaned, her fingers splayed across her breasts, teasing at her own nipples.
Her lips were naturally full and they were red and glistening from our kisses and her sucking my cock. Her cheeks were flushed with arousal, her hair bouncing over her shoulders from our movement. Everything about it was a beautiful portrait of a gorgeous woman enjoying sex.
It was hard as hell to hold off, but I waited until she shattered on me. Her head fell back, her eyes drifting closed, a soft cry escaping.
That was all I needed, to see her satisfied. It sent me over the edge.
She fell onto my chest. I wrapped my arm around her back to hold her warm skin close to mine. We both just stayed that way, not speaking, breathing hard.
“I’m glad I forgot my tablet,” she finally murmured. “And sent a group text saying I wanted to shag you.”
I laughed softly. “Me, too, baby. Me too.”
I was content to stay that way for a while but Felicia shifted off of me with a sigh and reached for her wine. She took a small sip and gathered the robe tighter around her. “I suppose I should head home.”
That kind of surprised me. Did I give that kind of a vibe that I’d want her to leave immediately? “You can stay here if you want. It’s cold outside.”
But she waved her hand. “I really should go. I have a lot of work to do and I didn’t plan for an overnight stay. I don’t have a bag.”
I wasn’t going to try to talk her into it. I could respect that she wanted to be in her own space. “I understand. Let me call you a car when you’re ready.”
She gave me a kiss. “Brilliant.”
I was feeling content, so I stayed on the couch, naked, finishing my wine while she went into the bathroom and got dressed. “Take this sushi with you,” I said, boxing it back up. “Lunch tomorrow.”
Felicia gave me a look.
“What?” I asked, dragging my sweats on. I was going to order her a car and walk her downstairs.
“Nothing.” She sat in the club chair and pulled her boots on.
By the time I had my shirt back on and my feet in sandals, she had her coat on, her bag over her arm. She seemed eager to leave. I put the take-out boxes back into the plastic bag they’re arrived in and tied the top off.
We didn’t say anything as we rode the elevator down but it didn’t feel awkward. Not to me, anyway. I hoped she didn’t feel awkward, though I doubted a woman who winked during a blow job was one to feel regret or uncomfortableness.
In the lobby, we saw her car pull up. The doorman opened the door.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” Felicia said. “Thanks, Michael.”
“I’m walking you out,” I said.
“You don’t have a coat on and you’re wearing sandals. It’s fine.”
“I’m walking you out.” I gestured for her to go first and she did. My doorman was studiously trying to not listen.
She rolled her eyes but obeyed.
I opened the car door for her. “Thursday at seven?”
The look she gave me was one of surprise, like she hadn’t expected me to still want to do dinner. But then she nodded.
“Good night.” I closed the door and waited until the car pulled away before returning to my apartment.
The doorman’s name was Sergio and he and I chatted often about basketball, so it didn’t surprise me when he gave me a grin. “Lovely lady, Dr. Kincaid.”
I couldn’t help but grin back. “Very lovely lady.”
One that I hoped to spend a lot more time with.
Five
When I put the key in and entered my flat, Javier was straight in front of me at the kitchen sink. “Hey,” I
said. “Did you miss me?”
He glanced back at me. “I actually thought you were in your room, so I guess the answer is no.” He raised his eyebrows. “And where have you been? Savannah’s? You don’t usually get home so late on a random Tuesday.”
“I was having sex with my new client,” I said, determined to be breezy about the whole thing.
“Wait, a new clothing client, or is this your way of announcing you’ve joined an escort service?”
I laughed. “Oh, shut up. A new clothing client. The guy I tried to set Savannah up a ways back. They didn’t hit it off.”
“Apparently you did.” He fully turned, a plate in his hand that he was drying. “Was it fun?”
“Very.” My cheeks felt hot just thinking about it. I peeled my puffer off and threw it over my arm. “We had sushi and wine and lots of fun.”
“Congrats. Hey, you need to open your mail.” He tilted his head. “You got another very official-looking envelope from Immigration today. That’s the third one and you haven’t even opened the first two.”
Shit. That was a mood killer. “How do you know I haven’t opened them?”
“Because they are still lying here on the only fucking twelve inches of countertop we have in this kitchen. You’re terrible at processing mail. I finally went through the pile because it was out of control and threw away your junk mail, and basically all you’re left with is the world’s biggest catalog from the shipping company you use for your business and three “Open me, bitch” type envelopes from Immigration.”
A tremor of fear went through me. I’d been intentionally avoiding those envelopes. They were never filled with great news. No “Congrats, you’ve won free citizenship!”
“You’re so aggressive,” I complained, dropping my bag and coat on the floor. “This could have waited until tomorrow. You’re ruining my post-shag glow.”
“You’re ruining my ability to chop vegetables.”
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the pile he was referring to. “You don’t chop vegetables.”
“I would if I had counter space.”
“Bloody unlikely.” I bit my lip and ripped the top of the envelope off. “And there are only two envelopes, not three.”
For a second as I scanned it, I told myself I wasn’t reading what I was. So I read it again. And a third time.
The blood drained from my face. I got dizzy and hot.
“What does it say?”
“I’m being deported,” I said, my voice a strangled whisper. “In forty days. Unless I can provide a reason why I shouldn’t be, such as an engagement or marriage to a citizen.”
“Um… that sucks. Can’t you contest it or protest it or something? I thought you had permission to be here.”
“I do. I did.” I winced and shoved the offending letter in my bag. “It would seem I’m at the end of my visa. What happened to my extension? I applied for it at least two months ago.”
I shifted through the pile to the other two envelopes. One was from Immigration. One was to Immigration. “Oh shit. I think this is my extension application. It never got mailed.”
“Felicia, what the fuck?” Javier looked outraged. “How could you let that happen?”
“I don’t know!” I wrung my hands. “I mail two dozen packages a week. They all are picked up by the mailman. This should have been in that lot ages ago!”
“It’s been sitting on the counter the whole damn time. How could you not at least go through the pile and realize your mistake?”
I had no idea. I had been so certain that envelope had gone out with the packages, but obviously not. “I’ve been busy and you know I’m a massive idiot when it comes to things like that. I blame my parents.”
“You can’t blame your parents for not renewing your own visa when you’re damn near thirty years old.”
I had actually been kidding. Of course I didn’t blame my parents. “What can I say, I’m a cock-up! I meant to. I filled out the application! But I get my head into work and I live it and breathe it, and I get surrounded by clothes and boxes and sales money dropping into my account and that is what happens. Not, you know, opening my mail.” I ripped open the one envelope that had apparently arrived earlier, though I wasn’t sure when. “It was a minor clerical error. To be fair, I thought I still had at least another month, which technically I do, so I wasn’t concerned that I hadn’t heard back yet. Haven’t you ever let your driver’s license expire?”
“Yes, but that only resulted in me being charged an extra fee when I went to get it. It didn’t get me bounced from the country.” He tossed the towel over his shoulder and leaned against the sink, crossing his ankles. He looked genuinely concerned. “What are you going to do?”
The greater issue over the expiration date was I doubted they’d grant me an extension at this point. More likely, I’d have to go back to the UK and apply for a new visitor visa. Unless Javier could save my behind.
“Ask you to marry me,” I said, already knowing what his answer would be. It was worth a shot though. “We’ve been living together for eighteen months. It would come across as very legitimate.”
His jaw dropped. Javier shook his head. “I have a girlfriend. I am not marrying you to fix your ‘minor clerical error.’ Shannon would kill me. Or worse, break up with me.”
“She’ll understand.” I knew it was a losing battle, but I was desperate.
“What woman would understand that?” He gaped at me. “I would have to publicly break up with her on all my social media because the Immigration office would want proof that you and I are an actual couple. And you think she’s just going to be cool with that? Are you nuts?” He opened the fridge. “I need a beer. No, sorry, I can’t do it. I would ruin my relationship with Shannon and in the long run the whole thing would fail.”
“Oh my God, you’re right. I’m sorry, I can’t expect you to save my ass.” I sagged against the wall. “What am I going to do?”
“Ask someone who hasn’t been in a recent relationship so you can fake one. What about your hookup tonight?” He drained half of his beer bottle. “You need to sort this shit out. I fucking cannot afford this apartment on my own and I don’t want two random-ass people moving in here with me.”
I frowned at him. “Glad to see you’re going to miss the rent money as opposed to say, me.”
“Don’t be tender. This is the real world, little girl. Of course I’ll miss you. Now find a solution.”
It was like a proverbial drink thrown in my face. Javi was right. I needed to find a solution. “You’re right. Sorry, I’m just freaking out. I don’t want you to ruin your relationship with Shannon.”
“Let’s come up with a list of candidates. Who was the client tonight? Is he single?”
“Are you daft? I fucked him! Of course he’s single.” I was scandalized. I was never one to play the cheat.
“Just checking. Does he look good on paper?”
“He’s an orthopedic surgeon, a widower, forty-two years old. But why on earth would he agree to marry me? We barely know each other.” I didn’t hate the idea. It was insane, of course, and presumably temporary, but it was oddly appealing. I enjoyed Michael’s company.
But it was marriage we were talking about, not sushi and sex.
Actually, not real marriage. Just a fake engagement to buy me time to sort this out. But why the hell would Michael ever agree to something like that? He wouldn’t.
“Stranger things have happened. But you’re right. There isn’t exactly an incentive there besides the ability to have you as a snack whenever he wants.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Well, isn’t that a charming way to put it? No. He’s off the list. I will not sell myself as a bed warmer to stay in New York. I’ll just go home to London.” Where I hadn’t lived in nearly a decade, had no real friends to speak of, a viral video scandal, and a father I did not want to see.
“There is always that. What about any of your other guy friends here?”
I mentally scrolled thro
ugh our crowd. “They’re all gay or in a relationship. I honestly don’t have a huge friend roster, you know that. I live like a hermit.”
“You do. I mean, I didn’t even know you weren’t home tonight. I assumed you were in your room.”
“You’re doing an excellent job of both making me feel better and problem solving, thanks so much. Bravo, Javier.” I rolled my eyes at him.
My phone chirped in my bag and I pulled it out, needing a distraction. It was a text from Michael asking if I’d made it home okay.
Yes, thanks, I appreciate it.
I’ll see you Thursday, then.
Right.
Is everything okay?
Yes, just got some off-putting news from INS.
Oh, no, sorry to hear that. What’s going on?
I debated if I should tell Michael or not, then figured he had the right to now. He might choose not to see me anymore if I was going to disappear in a month. He was looking for a relationship, after all.
Wait a minute.
He was looking for a relationship.
So, maybe he wouldn’t think getting engaged was completely insane? I decided to tell him what was happening.
It seems I might get deported.
What? Do you have a lawyer? Or need help finding one?
I definitely needed a lawyer. Or you know, a husband.
Maybe. I’ll let you know at dinner. Thanks, xxx
Let me know if you want to talk tomorrow. Good night, Felicia.
“Why are you a hermit?” Javier asked. “I thought you used to be the girl about town? That’s the way everyone still describes you, you know.”
That was a story I didn’t really want to get into. It involved a man I’d dated and the wife I hadn’t known existed along with some rather embarrassing video that had briefly gone viral. Precisely the reason why I didn’t want to go back to London. I was a bit of a social pariah at the moment through no fault of my own. Well, my fault in the sense that I’d chosen a man to date who was an utter asshole.
“I don’t have time to be a lay-about.” That was as much as I wanted to get into it with Javier. He was a great roommate and friend, but he wasn’t the most sympathetic creature on the planet.
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