Best of 2017

“I haven’t done it for a long time,” I tell her. “Since before I was married.”

“It’s really none of my business, you don’t have to tell me…”

But I want to. Because if this is real… if she really…

I rub my temples. “I struggle with this. With this… interest.”

“You feel bad about wanting sex with other men?”

Her question is so innocuous, so unassuming, and it makes me feel like a fucking douche for my hang-ups.

“I have my fucking father to thank for that,” I admit. “And my judgemental fucking bitch of an ex-wife.”

“You don’t have to talk about it...”

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it.” I hate the way my voice snaps. “I’m just not used to talking. I’m not used to…” My arms gesture to nothing. “This. Any of this.”

“It’s just a silly fantasy.” Her voice is so calm. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

But I can’t deny the truth to myself.

I love how uncomfortable she makes me feel. I love how on edge this is making me, how fucking desperate I feel inside.

I love the glimmer of hope in the darkness. And I love that I hope this is something.

I feel like a fucking fool for it, but I do.

I relax onto the bed, my head propped on my elbow. “Tell me about your fantasy.”

She mirrors my position, her eyes so hungry for mine. “I’m not sure I should…”

“Tell me,” I insist, and she shrugs.

“I think about you fucking another guy. I think about watching. I think about your cock in another guy’s ass, I think about you… being rough… I think about you, um… choking him… like you choke me.” She pauses. “I think about watching you kiss another guy. I think about you with his cum in your mouth. I think about how it would make me feel…”

My mouth is bone fucking dry. “How would it make you feel?”

She gasps, and this is real. The truth of it prickles my fucking skin as she slips her fingers between her thighs. “It makes me come… when I think about it…”

My words are parched. “Show me…”

And she fucking does.

She circles that tender fucking clit with her little fingers until she squirms. “Oh God,” she whispers. “Oh fuck, I want to see you fuck someone so hard…”

“You want to see my cock in another guy’s dirty fucking asshole?” My cock twitches. I can’t hide how fucking hard I am.

She screws her eyes closed. “Yes. Oh God, yes…”

I can’t stop myself wrapping my hand around my dick. “You want to see me pound some other guy’s filthy fucking hole?”

She groans. “Please, oh fuck… fuck…”

“And what would you be doing?”

Her eyes are so hooded when they meet mine. “Watch… I want to watch… I want to see everything…”

“Just watch?”

Her voice is fragile. Timid. “I don’t know…”

“I’m rough,” I grunt. “When I fuck like that… it’s rough…”

She moans, and her fingers are fucking frantic between her legs. “Fuck, Alexander, I want that… I really want to see that…”

I can’t come again so soon, it’s fucking insane, but my balls are aching all fucking over again, my cock jerking like a fucking fish in my palm.

She braces herself against me, her fingers tight on my shoulder. “I come every time I think about you with another man…”

And so do I.

It hurts when I shoot my load against her belly. My dick is raw and pulsing, my balls pained as they fucking blow.

I stare dumbly as she drags my cum down between her thighs and rubs my creamy fucking seed around her clit.

Her eyes have a filthiness in them I’ve never seen. I’m open-mouthed as she takes hold of my hair and urges me down between her legs.

“Please,” she whispers. “Oh God, Alexander… please…”

She wants me to lick myself from her fucking pussy.

She wants to see me with my own fucking cum in my mouth.

My heart is fucking frantic. The girl is sending me fucking insane.

I know right now I’m doomed, snared by this beautiful fucking creature in my fucking bed.

So I do it.

I lick my lick every drop of cum from her fucking pussy, and I open wide to show her. My dirty fucking secrets are right there for her to see, my eyes fucking desperate as I let my own fucking cum dribble from my filthy fucking mouth.

She comes. Hard.

My fingers dance with hers around her sopping clit, and her mouth is open for mine as she rides the fucking wave. She drags me to her and she feels as desperate as I do.

I’ve never wanted anything as I want to please this fucking girl.

I’ll do fucking anything to please this fucking girl.

She moans around my tongue, sucking the taste of me. She tips my head back and her eyes are hooded once again as she waits for me to swallow.

I swallow and she smiles.

Her smile is everything.

I wait until our calming breath is the only thing between us.

The words burn as they come out.

“I’ll do it,” I tell her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

MELISSA

IT FEELS grubby to take his money in the morning, but he insists.

He hands me the envelope when I’m finishing up my muesli and won’t hear any of my protests.

“How is it?” he asks as I scoop up the final dregs of milk from the bowl, and I have to smile another stupidly-ignorant smile.

“Delicious. I love how the peaches taste with the chocolate. It’s so unusual.”

He seems to like that. “One of my silly little specialities. I’m not much of a chef.”

I tell him I disagree, but he laughs it off.

His laugh is divine.

He asks my plans for the day and it catches me off guard.

My heart pangs at the thought of Joe waiting at home.

Alexander looks a little disappointed as I tell him I’ll have to leave soon. I wish I could invite him to come along and hang out with us, maybe push Joe on the swings awhile.

Maybe one day.

“I’ll see you later, yes?” he checks, and I nod.

“Of course. Delaney’s at eight.”

He shakes his head. “No need for Delaney’s. I think we’ve well and truly crossed professional boundaries, don’t you?”

I know this is a triumph. Waking up in his bed with him was the most amazing feeling.

“I’ll come back here, then? At eight?” I’m so happy I could cry.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

I nod. Thank him again for the money and the breakfast. Thank him for everything.

I hug Brutus goodbye, and kiss Alexander right on the mouth in the doorway without holding back.

There’s nothing left to hold back.

ALEXANDER

I WIRE the rest of Amy’s money to Claude’s offshore account and let him know about my impromptu evening by email.

I tell him I’ll no longer be needing Delaney’s while I’m at it.

His reply comes through instantly.

No venue?

No venue, I confirm. I’ll take it from here, I confirm.

You exchanged personal information?

I don’t bother replying to that one. It’s none of the cunt’s fucking business what I’ve exchanged with her.

Having the girl in my home was the final straw for me. The final scrap of my restraint has shrivelled and died. For better or fucking worse I’m all in with this insanity.

I browse upcoming music events after I’ve walked Brutus, but there’s nothing that takes my interest.

I haven’t felt alive in so long. This surge of life is addictive. It makes me believe anything is possible. Anything.

That’s why I fire an email off to the Kings and C

astles management team. That’s why I ask them why their current gig listings are empty on their website.

It takes a few hours to get a response, but when it arrives it’s very forthcoming.

That’s what an email signature like mine gets you. That’s what being a lawyer gets you full stop in fact, even if your email has nothing to do with the fucking law whatsoever.

They tell me the band are recording a new album. They tell me there will be no upcoming gigs for at least six months.

I call the mobile number listed, and a shy woman answers.

“It’s Alexander Henley,” I tell her. “I just emailed.”

“Yes,” she says. “I’m sorry about the schedule, but if you check back in six months…”

“I’ve no interest in checking back in six months,” I say, and I have my calendar open in front of me. “I want them to perform next week.”

“But that’s… impossible…”

“Five hundred grand,” I tell her, and her gasp of breath tells her I’ve gone in way too high, but I don’t fucking care.

“Five hundred thousand? To play next week?!” I hear the frantic tapping of keys and imagine her looking me up from my email details.

“I’ll transfer the funds on confirmation.”