Not yet. Soon, but not yet.

“More.” The pain in her voice made pre-cum gather at my tip.

I shoved the ice cube into her pussy and she shrieked, her entire body coming even more alive on top of mine as I sat on the floor, my back pressed to the Jacuzzi. I clasped her chin between my fingers, guided her back to my mouth, and silenced her with a kiss as I fucked her with the ice cube, feeling how it melted inside her sweet, warm folds. Pushing in and out, I made sure I stretched her good. She was too innocent to just drive into, and I was an arsehole, but not a sadist.

“Such a decent girl.” My breath was hot against her skin.

She relentlessly chased my fingers and ice cube, looking drunk, on the border of shit-faced. All I needed to do was touch her clit once and she’d explode like I’d pushed a red button. Which was exactly why I didn’t do it.

“But you’ll be dirty for me,” I added.

To that, she didn’t reply. I slipped my hand into the bucket again and shoved another ice cube in, and she winced, arching her back before rubbing her pussy and clit all over my abs, wanting a lot more than ice and fingers inside her.

“Answer me,” I growled.

“I’ll be dirty for you,” she rasped, riding my hand like she did it for a living.

“Take my cock out,” I ordered, my voice dripping chill almost as much as her pussy. She stopped grinding against me for a second, staring at me through dreamy eyes, the droplets coming down from the tips of her eyelashes and plastering her hair onto her forehead.

“There’s an orgasm at the end of this journey.” I smirked.

She reached between us and unbuckled me, taking my cock out with shaky fingers. She spent a few moments gaping at it, just as she had when I took a piss in front of her the first day we were on tour.

“You’re uncut.”

I wanted to laugh, but was too aroused to function. Her eyes were big and wide. Did it really matter? It never did to any of the women I’d been with before. Then again I was Alex Winslow. I was told by Blake and Alfie, though, that sometimes American women were a bit iffy about the blanket on the piggy. I took her palm and wrapped it around my shaft, squeezing my hand around hers and feeling the pearl of pre-cum between us dropping onto my clothed thigh. “Problem?”

She shook her head. “It’s just…different.”

“You’ve only been with one guy.” The fucker.

“I know, but still.”

We weren’t going to talk about the benefits of circumcision today. I moved her hand back and forth, showing her how to rub me off rough, the way I liked it. “Make me come, and I’ll do the same to you.”

“I don’t come on demand.” Her eyes met mine.

I slid three fingers into her needy pussy and curled them, hitting her G-spot at the same time I pushed my callused thumb just above her clit. “New game, new rules: you come when I tell you to.”

“Ohhh…”

Yeah. Ohhh was right, with extra fucking foreskin.

She gave me a wank while I fingered her delicious cunt. The water pounding between us was a constant reminder that people were probably asking questions, and even more importantly—that we were going to walk out of here soaking wet or worse, wrapped in towels, giving them the answer they didn’t want to hear. Not that I gave a toss. Actually, it was better if everyone knew once and for all who she belonged to. Because it definitely wasn’t Waitrose.

Stardust gave a terrible handjob. She didn’t use enough pressure and treated my cock like it was about to fall off my body. But I was so high on what we were doing—and where we were doing it—I got off anyway. And when I felt the climax pressuring the base of my spine, climbing up like a ladder, I finally put her out of her misery and gave her clit some TLC, rubbing the swollen thing in circles while shoving my tongue into her mouth like I wanted her to choke on it.

“Jesus! Shit, oh, wow!” she exclaimed. She sounded surprised, and that made everything so much hotter, even though Jesus got the credit for all my hard work.

“Say my fucking name when you come,” I hissed.

I didn’t know what to expect. Maybe she would call me Winslow, as she often did, like I wasn’t a person but a brand.

But when the name “Alex” rolled out of her lips, I shot my load onto her baby blue dress, groaning and pushing her to the floor, on her back, to finish the job. I didn’t let her come on my fingers. No. I pressed my knee between her thighs and let her come on nothing, empty and deprived, with just a little taste for more.

I bent down, kissed her lips—thumbs on cheeks—and watched her squinting under the drops. Her face was rosy, her lips puffy from my abuse on her mouth.

I stood up and left her on the floor, thinking, for the first time in years—this is better than alcohol. Better than the champagne I smuggled.

“Don’t give yourself a hard time, darlin’. Especially as next time I touch you, you will be on your knees for me.”

The minute I came down from the high, I realized how low I’d gone.

And once I did, everything became clearer, just like the steam that had dried off of the glassed shower. My feet felt like a thousand hornets had stung them, cold and hot all at once, and I shivered quietly.

It wasn’t so much the shame of letting Alex finger me—finger me! —in the shower, although that was grossly out of character for me. We were both single and weren’t hurting anyone. It was the fact I’d allowed him to do that on a plane, with people right outside, and now they were all going to know what had happened.

I’d never be able to live it down. Even if his friends didn’t care—which I’m sure they didn’t, I wasn’t the first girl to fall into Alex Winslow’s trap. He was made for legends, almighty like an angry god. Too bad he knew it.

Alex yanked his jeans down, kicking them through his army boots and wrapping his waist in a clean, dry towel.

“All right?” He threw me a glance down his nose, his thick eyebrows drawn together.

I was still sitting on the edge of the Jacuzzi, combing my hair through wobbly fingers. Maybe I was stuck up, and a goody two-shoes, and a prude. But life had taught me a valuable lesson, and that lesson was that sometimes, the people you were attached to don’t come back. With my parents, I hadn’t had much choice. But with Alex—I did, and I’d knowingly let him in. Into my thoughts, and now my panties.