He smirks knowingly. “When can I see you again?” he asks, running his nose along my neck. It’s unfair of him to expect me to remember things like a calendar whilst his sinful fingers trace my stomach.
“You’ll see me tomorrow.” I gulp as he presses a wet kiss to my neck, the hickey he left me with finally fading.
“When can I see you like this?”
“Uhm.” Coherent thought goes out the door as his teeth descend onto my flesh, gently biting the same spot as if he wants his mark to remain etched on my skin.
“After work tomorrow, I’ll be back here.” Danny says, pulling away and looking into my eyes.
“Okay,” I whisper breathless.
“Good,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.
Before I can formulate any other words, he pulls the door open and calls, “See you tomorrow, freckles,” over his shoulder as he descends the apartment stairs.
I close the door behind me and take a deep breath. What have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 24
DANNY
When the door to Anya’s Parisian apartment slams behind me, my fingers itch for a cigarette and I pull my purple vape out of my pocket.
I had anticipated spending the whole day with Anya, or at least more than an hour or two. I wanted to fall asleep in a bed that smells like her, and drink coffee from a cup she uses everyday. I wanted to lounge on the couch and channel surf and wash my dishes in the sink in the kitchen. But instead, I ate her out on her couch and left.
It’s so easy to be around her. I feel more myself with her than I’ve felt in a long time. Standing beside her and talking about what her life looks like back home —discussing future baby names, for gods sake — it’s brought me back to earth with a thump. I could tell she was about to ask me why I was practically groping her Aunt’s guitar and quickly changed the subject. But it’s done nothing to alleviate the spark of energy that coursed through me when I plucked a string.
I wished I could swing it into my arms and play the songs that have filled the small blue notebook I bought that day we spent together. I haven’t picked up a guitar since my father took mine away from me when I was seventeen. TheBetter You Knowpress tour was about to start and I asked my father if I could take it with me. He yanked it from my hand and said “You’re an actor, not a singer, don’t be so ridiculous.” I never saw it again and still haven’t bought a replacement. It’s been ten years and I haven’t picked up a guitar since.
The irony of me telling Anya to stop freaking out when I’m basically spiraling in a blueberry scented cloud of smoke on the street is not lost to me. A kernel of doubt has wedged itself behind my rib cage and I don’t think I can ease it out.
I pause at the corner of her road. My feet feel heavy as I contemplate walking further away from her. My body is on the street but I left something behind in that cozy apartment. I rub my hand across my face, as if it will slap some sense into me. I should keep walking, leave before whatever faint line we have erected blurs even more than it already has.
I turn back the way I came.
A neighbor holds the building’s door open so I easily slip through the foyer. I take long strides up the stairs until I’m suddenly standing at her door. I knock once, the door swings open, and Anya’s surprised face peers up at me. Before she has a chance to speak, I take her freckled cheeks in my hands and press my lips to hers. Her shock gives way to desire as she sinks into me. My tongue explores her lips and her hands slide up my arms.
I pull away, her face cradled in my hands. I don’t dwell on how right this feels. “I never got to see your bedroom.” I press hungry kisses to her lips as I maneuver us backwards through the door.
“Hmm,” she says, returning my kisses, “Silly me.”
We walk in the direction of her room, our lips never more than a whisper apart. She fiddles with the handle to her bedroom door and it swings open behind her. Her feet trip on the floor, but my arms cradle her closer to me. She’s so slight against me I feel like we’re floating towards the fluffy bed I spot over her shoulder.
I gently guide her towards it but she offers resistance, pushing me until I reach the wall. I thought I had taken the reins, but it appears I just handed her my leash.
My back presses to the wall, the cool brick offering no relief from the fire racing through my body. Anya explores me, pressing open mouthed kisses to my neck, her hands roaming my body until she fiddles with the button of my jeans.
She tugs at the material, dropping to her knees as my dick falls free.
She licks her lips and my head falls against the wall with a thud.
“It’s only fair,” she whispers against my skin, making my erection twitch. Whatever my mind could have conjured up to say is lost in a groan as her soft lips tease the head of my aching cock. She parts her lips before enveloping me in her warm mouth. Her nails scratch against my thighs as she works me, teasing and licking with every bob of her head. Her fingers creep closer, cupping my balls before joining her sinful mouth and working my shaft.
My hands fist themselves in her hair, the silky strands between my fingers. I take a shuddery breath as she speeds up her movements with a moan I can feel in the back of her throat.
“Good girl,” I whisper as a shiver works its way up my spine.
Her legs spread with a whimper. The knowledge that this is affecting her as much as it is me sends me into a frenzy.
