The Girlfriend (The Boss 2)

“How many times did you decide to edge before? Do you remember?” He asked this casually, as if I could forget the five long, fruitless climbs to release I’d already experienced tonight.

“Five,” I ground out, my entire body shaking from the overload of sensation.

“Then five orgasms, I think. It’s only fair payback.” He adjusted the camera again. “I want to see your cunt as you’re coming. I swear, I can almost hear the sounds it’s making. You’re so wet, you’re practically dripping down that cock.”

“Fuck!” I humped against the chair, grinding on the impossible length that wasn’t even all the way inside of me. It bent slightly, still braced against the chair, but I felt it slip as my internal muscles clenched on it in another strong climax. My toes dug into the carpet and I gripped the arm of the chair with my free hand.

“That’s two, then. Keep going.”

I couldn’t stop the third one from happening if I had wanted to, and by the time the vibration and the tight fit of my overstretched pussy had driven me to the break, I wanted to. My legs cramped. A trickle of sweat ran down my neck. And I was so close to flinging the vibe across the room and never letting it touch me again. The pleasure became pain so thoroughly that the fourth orgasm brought me to the very limit of my tolerance. I squirmed and cried and bucked so hard that the dildo fell from my tortured cunt and bounced onto the carpet, a torrent of wetness releasing behind it as I howled and bowed desperately in the chair.

The instant I could think coherently once more, I tossed the vibe aside, shouted, “Red!” and slumped down, dizzy.

Neil pressed a button on the camera, then started a slow clap. “That was incredible.”

I lifted one middle finger, but I was too tired to flip him off for long. Instead, I concentrated my energy on getting up and coming to lay beside him in the bed.

“I should put all that stuff away,” I mumbled against my pillow, feeling the weight of the other toys, the ones I was now thankful he’d hadn’t decided to use, on top of the covers.

“Leave it. If anybody sees all of that, they can just be impressed at how well my sex drive is handling chemo,” he laughed.

I opened one eye. “You didn’t get off.”

“I couldn’t.” He shook his head. “I don’t know which medicine it is, if it’s the pain medication or the anti-emetic or the damned steroids. Something is making it difficult for me to function.”

“Oh.” I stirred, trying to raise myself up a level of consciousness. “Should I write that in my—”

“No, don’t you go reducing me to figures on a damn chart,” he said wearily.

I owed myself ten bucks for that one.

Closing my eyes, I decided that if Neil wasn’t concerned enough about it to discuss it with Dr. Grant, I wasn’t going to push him. “I’m sure Dr. Grant deals with that stuff all the time. And you know that. If you’re not worried about it, and it’s not bothering you, then I won’t worry about it either.”

“Finally! A symptom Sophie isn’t worried about.” He pushed aside his pillows and reached for me, and I snuggled down beside him, nuzzling my head against his shoulder.

I had been so lonely before, when I’d hung up with Holli. Now, just from spending time with Neil, I felt so much better. And it wasn’t the sex. It was the intimacy.

In a way, I had to thank his cancer for that. We’d done things with each other I’m not sure I would have thought of trying if not for us needing to work around the unfortunate side effects of his treatment.

Neil reached up and smoothed his palm over his head. A few strands from a patchy spot clung to his fingers. He grimaced. “For a moment there, I had actually forgotten.”

I scooted up to give him a kiss. “That’s what I’m here for.”

He wrapped me in his arms and held me as tightly as an exhausted man could. “And I am so very, very glad that you are.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Later that week, either Thursday or Friday, I forget because my sleep schedule was so jacked up from all-night coffee binges, I found an email from India waiting in my in-box. My latest video already had over ten thousand notes.

I ran into the dining room in a tank top, Neil’s boxers, and my fluffy pink socks. I held my iPad over my head and crowed, “Ten thousand views!” while doing a ridiculous little dance.

Neil and Emma were having breakfast.

“Oh. Hey,” I said with a goofy flush. “I totally forgot you were getting in this morning.”

Emma shook her head and smiled down at her bowl of quinoa porridge.

“Ten thousand? Darling, that’s wonderful!” Neil pushed his chair back, and I went to him before he could stand up. I leaned down so he could hug me and kiss my cheek.