Before Toby had switched off the sex-tap, they’d mostly messaged horny missives about what they were going to do to each other. Their current conversations were such a sharp return to friend form, it made her head spin. She’d sent him nudes; the dirtiest stuff she could come up with, with her face entirely visible, and all he texted back was, ‘You’re so beautiful,’ and bullshit like that.
Where was the aggression? Where was the bossy, arrogant shit-talk?
She didn’t need Toby to ask how her day was going; she needed him to grab her by her hair and fuck her until she forgot how to feel feelings. And then there was the fact he said he was too busy with work to hook up. What fucking work? From everything she’d learned about his job, it was basically fake, and God knew he didn’t need the money. But whenever she brought that up, Toby passed the buck.
“I want to see you again,” he kept saying. “And I promise we’ll meet up soon, but I have to sort out some important things. Is that okay?”
She’d said it was, but she could use more information on these ‘important things’ and whether or not they had blonde hair. Not that Toby seemed disinterested. He constantly texted, and they’d had phone sex two nights ago. But between trying to get her to ‘open up about her emotions’ and telling her how pretty she was, Toby had refused to say anything meaner than ‘you’re such a naughty girl.’
No, something weird was going on, which was why she was sitting behind the wheel of her sister’s car in six-inch pumps and a pleather bandage dress, hoping Toby would take one look at her and ass-fuck her in his foyer again. And if he didn’t, if all this polite chit-chat was the motherfucker’s way of soft dumping her, she was going to confront him to his face. He’d ghosted her once; he wasn’t doing it twice. Not without her throwing something at his head.
Tabby swore as yet another traffic light turned red. She sat tapping her nails against the steering wheel and tried not to think where she’d just been or what had happened. She didn’t want to think about anything except what Toby would say and do when he saw her. Her pussy throbbed, deprived of its favourite toys—namely Toby’s fingers, tongue, and cock—for a week. God, she needed to hook up with the man…
The light turned green, and she accelerated as fast as she could without jamming into the car in front of her. Her phone said it was ten minutes to Toby’s house, which was ten too many.
The map vanished as Sam’s billionth call flashed up on her phone. Tabby hit the red button, but it was almost instantly replaced by Nix, who was also trying to ring her.
“Fuckssake,” she hissed. At the next red light, she turned off her alerts. Her sisters knew she was okay; she’d told them so. And if they weren’t fine, they could talk to each other, their partners, or anyone else.
After an eternity, she made it to the quiet street containing Toby Tennant’s house. She parked at the curb, checked her lipstick, and got out. The night was cold, and she hadn’t brought a coat, but she refused to wrap her arms across her chest as she strutted to the gate and pounded in the entrance code. This was a slut walk for the ages. Whether Toby wanted to fuck her or tell her to fuck off, she’d be serving cunt so fresh all you could smell was seawater.
She rang the bell, trying not to shiver in her heels, and it occurred to her that he might not be home. That 8 p.m. on a Thursday was an entirely appropriate time for a young professional to still be at dinner. She pulled out her phone and read his last message, which had come at 4 p.m. while she was?—
But that didn’t matter.
Hey beautiful,I hope you’re having a good afternoon. I’m thinking about you.
“Thinking about what though?”Tabby muttered. “How much you want me to gag on your cock or…?”
She heard footsteps and shoved her phone back into her seashell clutch just before Toby opened the door. He looked beyond cuddly in his grey sweatpants and a blue T-shirt with a teddy bear design stitched on the front, and his light brown hair was standing on end. Tabby’s mood brightened like someone had flicked on a hundred-watt bulb.
“Hi,” she said. “You’re home.”
“Yeah, I am. Hi.” Toby’s gaze dropped to her plunging neckline. “Holy… did we make plans?”
“I did.” Tabby strutted past him, hips swaying so Toby could take in the full effect of pleather on her bare ass. She heard a faint choking sound and bit back a smile. It was so on. It was one hundred percent on. She was going to be taken, bitten, and spanked. She was going to come her absolute mind out all over Toby Tennant’s cock, and then everything would be good again.
She turned in the middle of the foyer, dropping her seashell clutch to the floor. “Do you want me upstairs, or should you fuck me right here?”
Toby shoved his hands into his pockets, but the act failed to conceal his hard-on. “I don’t know… Tabs, I’m so happy to see you, but there’s some stuff we should probably discuss?”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Tabby purred in her most provocative sex voice. “I want you to make it hurt this time. Won’t you please make it hurt for me, Toby?”
His eyes flicked up as though calling on a higher power. “Tabby…”
“What? What’s the problem?”
“I don’t think?—”
She peeled down the straps of her dress, releasing her boobs. “Idothink you should fuck me on all fours with your fingers in my asshole. Do you remember how good that was last time? Right in this foyer with me screaming for your cock?”
Toby looked like hell had opened up before him, and the devil himself was trying to lure him inside with free beer and last-minute grand final tickets. “Tabitha.”
“What?” She cupped her breasts, pushing them together. “Didn’t you like doing that to me? Making me beg?”
“I… of course.” Toby shook his head like a wet dog. “Okay, you want to make this hard?—”
“I think it’s already hard.”
