“Help me out,” I said, voice rough as gravel.
I lifted my hand and held it out toward her, waiting.
Her gaze flicked down. She knew exactly what I meant.
She leaned in, took my hand in both of hers. Then her mouth parted, and she let a thick string of spit fall onto my palm.
Swallowing hard, I wrapped a hand around myself, the heat of my palm barely enough, but just enough to feel close enough, combined with the wetness. I started slow—long strokes from base to tip, thumb swiping over the leaking head with every pass.
My breaths came hard; my body was so tense my muscles hurt. Her gaze stayed fixed on me like she was studying the movement, dissecting every stroke, every flick of my wrist, learning me.
My head was filled with images of what it would feel like to have her bare thighs straddling me, the weight of her body pressing against me, the softness of her skin against my fingertips.
I was so close. Just as I was about to fall over the edge, she shifted. She sat back, her voice low and commanding. “Spin your silk on me, baby,” she said, dragging her top down slowly, taunting me. Her breasts spilled out—full, round, heavy with the kind of weight a man could lose himself in. Teardrop-shaped and perfect, each tipped with a dark, thick nipple that made my mouth water. They were more than I ever imagined. Everything I ever wanted.
My knees nearly gave out as I nutted, the feeling wrung the breath from my lungs. “fuck,”
My cum landed on her breasts, and I swore I saw the faintest curve of a smirk tug at her lips.
My head dropped to my chest. I bit my tongue before I said something I shouldn’t.
“Now clean it up,” she said, drawing my attention. When I looked up, she handed me my shirt I’d just discarded, her tone thick.
I did as she asked, wiping her skin, my hands unsteady. Then, like nothing happened, she rose, leaving the room. When she returned, she was back in her dress, her hair smoothed, her face serene—back to normal.
“You ready to go?” she asked.
I stared at her, still reeling, my body buzzing with the aftershock of my orgasm.
“Did that really happen?” I managed, my voice rough.
She laughed low. “Yep,” she said, heading for the door. “Come on, Chester.”
I followed her out of the club, in a cum stained shirt, my legs unsteady, my mind racing. The tension between us wasn’t just heavy—it was mind-numbing. She had me scared.
twenty two-Ciarán
I leaned against the wall by the hotel door, a glass of whiskey in hand, swirling the liquid around but not drinking it. I told myself it was because I needed a clear head for the talk we were about to have, but the truth was uglier—I might actually have to start taking my meds again. And you don’t mix that shit with liquor. Everything that happened tonight had that familiar, staticky unease crawling back under my skin. The crash after a high always threatened to be a hard one. But I’d handle it.
“J,” I said finally, breaking the silence.
Jordin was sitting on the edge of the hotel sofa, her knees pulled up slightly, scrolling through her phone like she wasn’t aware of my eyes on her. But I knew better. She was always aware—of herself, of me, of the tension that lingered like static electricity whenever we were in the same room.
She looked up, her eyes meeting mine. “Yeah?”
I pushed off the wall and walked over, sitting down in the armchair across from her. I set my glass on the coffee table, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees. “What are we doing here?”
Her brow furrowed, and she set her phone aside. “What do you mean? Here, as in this hotel?”
“No,” I said, my voice soft but steady. “Here, as in you and me. Us. This thing we keep dancing around but not really saying out loud. What are we doing?”
She sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions. Her hand came up to fiddle with the charm on her bracelet—a nervous tic I’d noticed she did when trying to collect her thoughts.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“I’m not trying to push you into anything. You know that. But… with everything going on—with your divorce and all the emotions that come with it—and after what happened tonight, I need to know. Are you here because you want to be? Or because you need a distraction from how your life blew up?”
I almost rolled my own eyes. She had me out here sounding like a woman.
