Chapter 20

FLYNN

‘That was . . . that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.’ Her arms around my neck and her arse nestled into the cradle of my thighs, Chastity doesn’t speak. ‘Are you okay down there?’

She nods, so she’s not dead, at least, though seems to rouse herself almost immediately. She stands, taking her heat from me as she furtively wipes tears from her face. I hope those are tears of relief. Talk about a one-track mind as she reaches behind me and slips my shirt from the back of the chair, her luscious tits almost in my face.

‘I . . . I have stuff to say,’ she mumbles, her gaze languid and her expression relaxed. Then she turns, making her way to the desk to grasp some kind of control. Ah, the camera. She switches the lights off, making her way back to my lap.

I like this Chastity. This unguarded girl.

‘How did you know?’ she whispers. She’s slung her arms around my neck, hiding her face against my chest.

Ah. ‘It was an educated guess, I suppose. From watching you. When I made you come, there was something about your face.’

‘Shut up,’ she grumbles, swatting the back of my head. ‘No one has a good come face.’

‘What? Not even me?’

‘No comment.’

I inhale and let the breath out along with my words. ‘Surprised, babe. You looked surprised. And then there was the bit when you welcomed it while your body pulsed around me.’ She twists her head to better see me, her expression quizzical. ‘There it is!’ I repeat. ‘Like you were surprised. Or directing it.’

‘You make it sound like I was using semaphore.’ God, she makes me laugh. ‘I did not wave flags as I came!’

‘Why not. I fucking would.’ I tighten my arms around her. ‘You’d be surprised the lengths I’d go to, to be around you.’

Instantly, her body goes stiff in my arms. ‘Do you mean that?’ Her voice is small and unsure and not like her at all. I don’t like it—don’t like that she’d ever doubt this.

‘Duchess.’ I take her face in my hands. ‘I dunno how you haven’t noticed, but I’m kinda into you like you wouldn’t believe.’

‘What does that even mean? Where are all the grown-ups?’ she mutters. ‘One fancies me, and one is into me?’

‘Who fancies you? I mean, who wouldn’t?’

‘What does it matter?’ she answers, standing abruptly. Before I can put my feelings into English, because apparently, Aussie English isn’t working for this chick, we both hear her phone ring out in the hallway. Her heels click as she makes her way to it, her expression conflicted as she returns with the phone in her hand.

I think for a minute she might ignore it, but she only seems to contemplate this before answering.

‘Hello, Mother.’ I’m surprised by her address given that I got a peek of her screen which read Caroline. It’s not only her words and diction that are stiff because her whole body is rigid.

Dressed in only my shirt, her bra, stocking and heels, she wraps her free hand around her waist, making her way to the other side of the draughty room, the lines of her body drawn tight.

‘Oh, well. No. Actually, I’d made plans for that day . . . well, that’s to say friends have already made plans on my behalf. A surprise, you see,’ she adds coolly. ‘Yes, a party. It was a surprise, Mother . . . No, I can’t . . . You’re right. It wouldn’t be seemly. Yes, invitations have already gone out.’ Chastity turns her head over her shoulder, shooting a regretful smile my way. ‘Well, I am sorry about that. Perhaps we can catch up when Max gets back.’

Her brow furrows as she turns back to the call, so I take the opportunity to slip on my undies. The floor is frigid under my bare feet as I pad over to her, gathering the riot of her escaped hair to place my lips at her neck. Just below her pulse point I suck gently. Wrapping her in my arms seems to melt some of her tension.

She’s so beautiful and so strong, and her visible discomfort makes me want to protect her. Shield her with my body. And as I can’t do either of these things, I offer her my worship instead. Even if she does swat my hands away when I slide them into my open shirt to palm her breasts.

‘What?’ I whisper in her ear. ‘It’s my shirt. Maybe I want it back.’ I sense rather than see her smile as I kiss her neck, feeling her swallow against my lips.

‘I like you a lot, Chastity Landry.’ I kiss her shoulder; my words hot in her ear. ‘I want you to let me in.’

She turns her head then, her dark eyes sparkling and complicit even as she mouths the word, ‘Stop.’

‘Nah.’ Spinning her back to my front again, I begin kissing her ear. ‘I want you in my bed, and I want you in my arms.’ I’ve been around, travelled to a lot of places, and fucked a lot of girls, but I have never taken part in something as hot as just now. I could almost taste her wetness coating my tongue as the pulse of her orgasm beat between us like a drum. This woman is a thing of beauty when she comes. But it’s more than that. This thing we have between us is more than the sum of these parts.

She swats at me ineffectually as I push my hands down her thighs, slipping them inward to drag them up again, my cock pounding against her arse.

‘I want to come inside you next time. Nothing between us but skin. I want to keep you, Chastity.’

‘Mother, I have to go. I’ll call back soon.’ And just like that, she steps out of my arms, switching off her phone.

Gears start spinning in my head, her expression one I can’t make out. ‘What was all that about?’ I ask, gesturing to her phone.

‘My mother.’ She looks down at her phone, then shakes her head. ‘And I’m pretty sure that was my line.’

My expression clouds. She’s not dense, not by any stretch of the imagination. So I fall into default mode.

‘Well, it’s like this, duchess.’ I step into her, taking her reluctant hips in my hands. ‘When a man likes a girl, he kinda wants to . . . come inside her.’

‘Oh, you!’ She swats my arm. ‘Why can’t you be serious for just five seconds? Why must you always try to get on my last nerve?’

‘The short answer is ’cause it’s fun. The long answer is because, and I say again, I want to keep you.’

‘That!’ she exclaims, pointing her finger at me. ‘That’s exactly what I mean. Keep me? What am I? An ornament or a doll?’

‘I thought we already established the answer to this. Didn’t we already have this conversation?’ She frowns, though quickly swaps the expression for something a little more irate when I say, ‘You’re my little fuck doll.’ I probably shouldn’t, given the lethal weapons she has on her feet, but I laugh. Fuck, do I ever.

‘Flynn Phillips . . . Put your bastarding clothes on and g-get out of here!’

‘Okay, okay,’ I reply, all placating hand gestures as I back my way up to the chair.

‘Serves you right if I do load your clip to the website.’

‘Not my clip. It’s yours,’ I reply, slipping into my suit pants. ‘You gonna give me my shirt back? I’ll swap you for your undies,’ I might taunt.

Head held high, she makes her way to the desk, slipping her skirt on under my shirt. Back still turned to me, she slides the cotton off her shoulders, substituting it for her silk blouse. She swings on her heel, making her way back over to me.

‘Here.’ Arm stretched out like she can’t bear to be near me, she offers me my shirt from between her fingertips. ‘You can keep my knickers. Call them a reminder.’

‘Thanks, babe.’ I slide them into my pocket, then pull on my shirt. ‘I’ll add them to my collection.’ She makes a noise that’s a little like a growl. ‘You know, you’re a bit of a paradox,’ I say, buttoning my shirt.

‘I’m surprised you know what that word means.’

‘I’m not just a pretty face.’ Not by any means. ‘But you’re so open about a lot of shit, and I bet I could have a conversation with you about any kind of sex. Cuttlefish porn,’ I say, beginning to count off my fingers. ‘Female ejaculations; myth or fantasy? But, and this is a big but, the minute I pay you a compliment, I become a lying toad.’

‘I must attract them.’

‘That would be your swamp arse attitude!’ I half yell, half say across the room. I’m not angry—I’m rarely that—but I want her fucking attention.

‘Swamp arse?’ she asks with the greatest disdain. And then she starts laughing. Really laughing.

So I grab her. And I kiss her. And when we come up for breath, her eyes are smiling again.

‘Female ejaculation isn’t a myth,’ she says seriously. ‘I’ve seen it.’ I groan and mumble something about her teasing me. ‘And cuttlefish porn? Sorry, but I’m not a fan.’

‘Octopus, then?’

‘God, yes. I’m nothing if I’m not all about the tentacle,’ she says with a gurgling laugh.

‘Duchess, my tentacle is the only one you’re getting. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. Exclusive, all in.’

‘Flynn,’ she says, her eyes softening as she rests her hand on my cheek. ‘I haven’t had an orgasm by myself in six months. Do you really think I’m going to let you get away?’