Leilani

It feels so good to finally be free.

No more lies

No more deceit

No more keeping things from my best friend

Rayne and I have been best friends for 17 years. We tell each other everything. Having to keep her in the dark was horrible, but now, everything is out in the open and why the hell is my bed dipping next to me. No. Nooooo. Damn It!

“I thought we agreed this wouldn’t happen again”

My voice is indignant. I am disgusted with him, why would he go back on his word, why would he come back into my bed. WHY?

He leans over me, and as quiet as a mouse says

“I didn’t agree to shit! You said it wouldn’t happen again, but if I recall correctly, you had just pulled the sweetest nut out of me, so I put it down to being drunk on my DNA and ignored you.”

“You cocky motherfu…”

He puts his hand over my mouth to prevent me finishing my sentence. My blood is boiling, why am I allowing him to control me. I am usually in control. I usually hold all the cards.

I bite the end of his finger. Take that!

“It will take more than that to keep me quiet. Dick!”

“Happy to stuff it with mine, all you have to do is ask Leilani, it’s yours whenever you want it”

As if to prove his point, he rubs himself through his trousers, I have to think about how to swallow my mouth is so dry.

“Haven’t you got somewhere else to be?”

He pushes himself to upright, grabbing his keys from the bedside table.

I can’t help but admire the view. On paper he is the complete opposite to what I call my usual type.  He drives a stupidly expensive sports car, he is a complete know it all in his field, his dark blonde hair is always ‘immaculately messy’, his clothes are tailored – even his ‘casual’ trousers, he wears loafers and brogues – sometimes without socks, he always has a tan – I thought it was out of a bottle it’s so even and his teeth are perfect and white.

Not my type, well until you peel back the layers. His hair is actually one of my favourite things about him. Yes, it’s always styled to within an inch of its life, but I love running it through my hands, messing it up – making it fall over onto his forehead. His clothes hide his sinful body – he’s ripped.

His shoulders are broad, thick and strong. His rock hard abs make me weep, literally.

His thighs are like marble they are ridiculously smooth and firm. Being honest. Even if he had the worlds smallest penis, I would still probably be interested, the fact that he’s hung like a donkey is a bonus – a massive bonus. Emphasis on massive.   His smile, the smile that I believe is all for me, whether it’s at something I have said or something that I am doing, is everything.

All those things make me keep coming back for more. Damnit.

“Unfortunately, yes I do. As much as I want to stay here and ravish you, I have to meet my father. You should come?”

I don’t know if he is being serious or not, I suddenly get butterflies and for nothing short of a nano second, I think about it

“As tempting as that sounds, I think I will pass” I add some sass, by inspecting my nails.

He laughs and gives me a firm kiss on my mouth

“You’re too much Leilani – I will call you in the morning to go through the press releases. We’re agreed to having Rayne back on board? “

My heart sinks at hearing her name. Guilt. I meekly nod to show my agreement and he kisses me again.

I breathe him in as he stands up – GAHHH that damn blasted scent of his is unreal. He smells like sex. Well not literally like sex because that’s not the best. Well it is the best when you’ve just had sex, which clearly, we have but – for god sake, I am rambling like Rayne now.

“Good. I’ll let you break the news to her” he winks and walks out of my bedroom, now I know I should be a good host and see him out, but he knows the way. 

Fuck My Life. I bash my head against my pillow. This is not good. One-night stand Leilani! Not twenty-one-night stand!

OK, so let me explain.

 My name is Leilani Barros. By day I am one of the leading sports agents in the UK, my friend Rayne is a PR agent and we have worked and played together for the last 17 years. A few weeks ago, we found out that we had a conflict with a mutual client, and I had to drop her from the client case. Our client, a leading footballer for both his club and country was being blackmailed. At first, the only conflict was that her step father, the notorious lawyer, Trent Fitzgerald seemed to be tied up in the case, we thought initially that he was working against us, but it turns out he was protecting Rayne. A video had surfaced of our client Malachi Harris indulging in a sex act with a known reality star. She claimed he impregnated her and was demanding money. Another footballer also involved is the nation’s sweetheart. The England Captain, Johan Terrence. Yes, I know! Anyway, long story short. Rayne’s biological father (although I still debate if that’s even true) is also Malachi’s dad. Trent knew and was trying to keep Rayne and Malachi protected. He represented Johan only because he needed to try and keep it all a secret. It didn’t work out at all well. This afternoon it’s all over the news. I have been working with Guy Pearce Morgan, a partner at Trent’s practice trying to get to the bottom of this whole mess. Why am I telling you this? Good question. Might have something to do with the fact that for the last 3 weeks, I have not only been working the case with Guy, but I have also been working his shaft. Every, divine inch of his glorious shaft. I know, right? Shaft? Yes! Shaft! It is a long, thick, very attractive shaft.

It has been keeping me entertained, energised and satisfied every night for the last 3 weeks and I can’t get enough of it, worse still, I can’t get enough of him. I desperately want to tell Rayne, I tell her everything. But I am scared. She knows Guy, of course she does, but she also knows me. She will know that I don’t do repeats. Ever. I have never had a boyfriend, not really. I change my mind faster than I change my underwear (twice a day sometimes thrice) Nobody has ever kept me entertained long enough to go back again and again. She will ask me questions that I don’t want to answer. What is it about Guy Pearce- Morgan? I don’t know for sure, but I do know I am completely dickmatised