‘Maybe, if you tell me which of them gave you my number. My money’s on Keir, by the way. Paisley’s just not that good of an actress.’
‘It wasn’t one of our friends, but you’re not gonna like it all the same. And just so you know, I like brunch, too.’
‘Jealous much?’
‘I’m always jealous of people who get to spend time with you.’ Shit. Talk about over-reaching.
‘Flynn . . .’ The way she says my name? It’s like disappointment, but it’s a ruse because I can hear the smile in her voice, too. ‘You’re not supposed to say things like that,’ she says softly.
I sigh as though anticipating a brush-off, but my sigh is also a ruse because what I say next is nowhere near beaten down or overcome. Quite the opposite.
‘I took your phone,’ I admit.
‘When?’
‘When you waddled your way to the bathroom. You know, after we’d fucked.’
Boy, did we fuck. I’d picked her running leggings from the floor, chucking them on the kitchen bench. Turns out, her phone was in a concealed pocket and the way it hit the worktop didn’t sound too healthy. So I unravelled the fabric and pulled out her phone, just to check that it wasn’t busted.
‘Waddled? Are you suggesting I’m duck-like in some sense?’
‘Don’t you want to know how I got into your phone?’
‘Right now, I’m more concerned what you mean about me waddling.’
‘Remember, you’d been well and trulyduckedat that point.’
‘You’re such an odd man,’ she says so softly, I wonder if she’s talking to herself. ‘Was it my gait? My wobbling bottom? What?’
I groan like I’m in pain. ‘Chastity, you can’t tell me about your lacy pink undies, then remind me about your fantastic arse. Not unless you really want me to put my boots on and come around there to make you waddle again.’
‘Oh... so you were thecauseof my waddle.’ Her answer is sort of scornful, like I’m talking myself up or something. For the record, I don’t need to. And she knows it. We both do.
With the meat of my palm, I palm my meat. ‘You were wet.’ Unexpectedly, my voice sounds rough as I recall the kitchen. Her bare arse on the bench and my forehead propped on her shoulder, I’d felt content to stay there forever, cocooned in the warmth of her body. Plus, I happened to be staring down at her tits. But she’d stirred beneath me, so I’d stepped back, sad for the loss of her immediately. Her pussy was pink. Wet. Glistening.Fucking perfect.But I didn’t have long to appreciate the view as she’d hopped down from the worktop. ‘I expect you were waddling because you were trying to stop cum from running down your legs.’
It’s wrong, but I want to do her bare. Paint her in my cum. Watch the stuff seep out of her and run down her legs.
‘Oh, well. I-I’m glad we’ve had a little chat. That we’ve cleared up some things. It was nice chatting with you,’ she says quickly and through gritted teeth, if I’m not mistaken. ‘So... goodbye!’
I’m left with a hard-on, a smile, and a phone beeping emptily in my hand.
