The Girlfriend (The Boss) (21 page)

“I think that will do. We’ll leave this here...” He pushed the soft, tennis-ball sized tip of the wand between my vulva and the pillows, and with one probing fingertip, parted my labia so that my clit ground against the vibrator. Just the careful adjustments were bringing me close to the point of no return again; what would happen when he turned it on?

He slid the switch and the thing buzzed to furious life against my clitoris. I gasped at the force of the vibration. I was closer, closer,
there
in a matter of seconds, and I squealed into the duvet as my body shook with the ridiculous strength of my long-denied orgasm. My calves cramped, and I was pretty sure my lungs were going to burst. Grateful breaths exploded from my hoarse throat as I twisted in the grips of unrelenting, powerful pleasure. After what had seemed like hours of anticipation, the bubble had burst, and I was left a sweating, shaking heap, my muscles too wrung out and tired to move.

But the vibrator was still on, buzzing hard against me, and another climax followed close on the heels of the first. I frantically tried to wriggle away from the wand, and Neil’s hands bracketed my thighs, holding me down.

“No, Sophie,” Neil admonished me sternly. “You stay there.”

“But—” I began to protest, and it was lost as a shuddering moan poured from my body.

“No buts. Keep it there, or we might have to revisit the flogger.”

I looked up at him, the pain in my overstimulated clit dragging all variations of the word red to my mind: crimson, cherry, fire engine, flame, flames like the ones licking up my feet from my cramping toes and curling in my belly. The thought of even one single tail of that flogger striking my swollen, over-used flesh made me considering shouting every word.

This was the last mile of a run, the last rep of a hard workout. I forced myself to stay pressed against that vibrating ball, gritting my teeth and panting, “oh no, oh no, oh no.” Neil watched this as he undressed, smirking to himself. In that moment, I had never hated him or loved him more.

He stripped naked, taking his time as I came again. They were getting further apart, as the heavy vibration numbed me, and each one left a prickly, odd feeling in my flesh, strangely akin to needing a sneeze.

When he was finally naked, he climbed onto the bed and knelt behind me. He eased the plug from my ass and drizzled more cold lube between my cheeks, enough that it pooled on the pillows beneath me, and I heard the slick sounds as he rubbed it over his cock. At the first touch of his wide tip against me, I tensed; partially from nerves, mostly from the climaxes the damn vibrator tormented me with. I panted through the next one, sobbing.

Neil waited for the tremors in my tightly restrained muscles to pass. It took more willpower than I ever knew I had to keep myself from pulling away from the relentless vibration as I neared another orgasm. It roared through me like a breaking surf, and my head sagged on my shoulders, my entire body limp and exhausted in the lull between waves.

That was when Neil pressed steadily forward, and my already stretched hole put up barely any resistance. I took a huge gulp of air, then another. My skin broke out in chills, and I didn’t know if I wanted him to keep going or stop immediately. It hurt, but it was a welcome distraction from my overstimulated clitoris, so I focused on that.

That was a mistake. With Neil pressing at my back, I was forced into more direct contact with the vibe, and without paying attention to my body, I was taken by surprise. I came with a shocked howl, and Neil’s forward progress into my body halted. He swore under his breath. He’d told me before that the first time we’d had anal sex, I’d been uncomfortably tight. I imagined that went double for when my entire body clenched uncontrollably.

“Please!” I cried out, lifting my hips and only serving to push myself further onto his punishingly hard cock. Caught between pain and too much pleasure, I groaned like an animal and bucked my hips.

“Oh, fuck, yes,” Neil hissed, and thrust in deeper. I screamed and twisted and whimpered, and he moved with me, spearing into me, stretching me. My skin sweated with a burst of heat and alternately chilled, so fast that both sensations seemed to merge. Neil’s hand clamped over my mouth before I realized I was screaming, and when I came again, he was only a thrust behind me.

“Red! Please, red!” I squirmed in a panic, and he shut the vibrator off immediately.

“Shhh,” he soothed. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

I took slow, deep breaths as he pulled out, and I hissed at the soreness. “Ah, I remember this part, now,” I said through clenched teeth. “Feeling like all my insides are going to fall out.”

“Are you all right?” He laid his palm against my thigh. “Well enough for me to clean up a moment? Or do you need me to stay here?”

“Mhm. You can go, I’m fine.” I laid there, boneless and sticky with sweat. “Start a bath for me?”

I was more than fine. I wasn’t sure I could move my legs. I wasn’t sure I could feel anything other than the dual throbs of pain and pleasure in my ass and cunt. It was like I had fallen off an underwater cliff, into a deeper pool of intimacy, a depth that I had never even considered. I’d let Neil do whatever he wanted with my body, had trusted him to take me into uncharted territory and keep me safe while we were there.

I had submitted.

I rubbed my face where he’d slapped me, and grinned to myself.

Neil came back and helped me from the bed, into the bathroom. The bathtub was a basin sunk into pink marble steps and surrounded by mirrors with a frosted design. I stepped into the tub while the water was still running. The heat stung my raw skin, and I gasped.

“Careful,” he said gently, still holding my hand to steady me, despite the brass handrail.

“That was... intense.” I eased down and sighed. “You were not fucking around.”

“Neither were you. Well done,” he said with a laugh, getting in to sit behind me.

I leaned back, much preferring his warm body to the cold porcelain. “I can’t believe I could handle all of that.”

“I had my doubts. I thought you would use the safe word at one point. I was considering stopping at that point.” He threaded our fingers together beneath the water, raising my hands with his as he wrapped his arms around me.

I giggled. “Oh, with the flogger?”

“Yes. Your eyes were the size of dinner plates. Just a second after I hit you, I thought, ‘oh, she didn’t like that.’” He laughed with me, trailing drops of water up my arm and over my shoulder.

“You did it once more after that,” I reminded him.

“That’s why I only did it twice. Once to try it out, and again to let you decide. I knew you’d tell me if you didn’t like it.”
 

I sat up and looked back at him. “You knew I’d want to do it more than once to make a decision?”

“I think I know a surprising amount about you, considering how new our relationship is.” He gazed up at the ceiling as he considered. “I know you’re terrified of needles and blood, I know you’re capable of becoming exceptionally angry on subjects you’re passionate about.”

“I know you’re afraid of elevators and airplanes,” I interrupted.

“That I am.” He stretched one long leg out to flip down the tap and turn off the water. “I know that when you let yourself love someone, you love them without reservation.”

I thought the swell of emotion I felt for him at that moment would crush my ribs. “I know you give away more of your heart than you can stand to lose.”

He pulled me back again, and I twisted to lay on my side, my cheek against his chest, just above the water.

“That I do.” His deep voice rumbled beneath my ear, as did his contented sigh. “But I carefully assess the risk first. You’re a good risk.”

“How romantic,” I said dryly.

His arm tightened around me. “Take the damn compliment, Sophie.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I’d arranged to meet Holli at a cafe she’d fallen in love with, across the river from the Île de la Cité. Neil had gotten directions from the concierge for me.

“Are you sure you don’t want a car to take you?” Neil asked from the bed as he watched me wind a pale pink patterned scarf around my neck.

I shook my head. “No. Are you sure you don’t want to come with?”

He wasn’t dressed to come with. He wasn’t dressed at all, and the lure of warm, sleepy skin was so tempting. But I hadn’t seen my best friend in weeks, so it was an easy temptation to overcome.

“And impose on your reunion?” He lifted his gaze from the iPad screen he was reading and peered at me over his thick-rimmed glasses. “Never. Besides, I’ll be fine here. I have some final arrangements to make for our sight-seeing tomorrow.”

I twirled in a circle, my floaty skirt flaring out as I spun. In ivory layers of silk with cherry blossoms printed on it, it matched the pink, fitted scoop-necked t-shirt under my white pea coat. “How do I look?”

He pretended to regard me critically for a moment. “Like someone who wants to role play a very naughty ‘innocent virgin’ scenario when she gets back.”

I grinned at him and went for my purse.

“You’re certain you can get around the city all right?” he asked, a hint of nervous father in his tone.

“Hey, I’ve lived in New York for the past six years. I think I can handle Paris.” I went over to lean down for a kiss. I meant to make it a quick peck, but his hand came up to cover the back of my neck and pull me down further. My mouth parted in surprise, and he sucked at my bottom lip.

I moved away reluctantly. “I don’t want to be late.”

“If you get lost or have trouble, just find a taxi stand, get into a taxi and say
‘emmenez-moi á hotel Plaza Helene s’il vous plaît’
.” he advised.

“What does that mean?” An uncertain smile tugged at my lips.

“I’m lost, please do not take advantage of my nubile young body while helping me.”

I snorted. “What does it really mean?”

“Take me to the hotel Plaza Helene please.” He gave me another quick kiss and released me. “Go. Have a good time.”

Riding down in the elevator, I felt a thrill of trepidation. Getting around a city where I didn’t speak the language was more daunting than I had expected when I’d tried to run away to Tokyo as a teenager. Now, I understood the importance of communication; I resolved to pick up
Rosetta Stone
or something when we got back to London. I would start with Icelandic.

I reached into my purse to check for my pink Coach wallet and my passport. I could have had the doorman hail me a cab, but I wanted to be in the city, not isolated from it by glass and steel. I walked until I found a metro station.

Subways are pretty much the same everywhere, I’ve found. It’s not difficult to get around so long as you understand the color-coding of the different lines and the destinations. The stop labelled Saint-Michel seemed like my best bet, as it would be only a short walk from there to the cafe on the Rue de la Harpe.

Nothing could have prepared me for how gorgeous Parisian underground stations would be. I almost missed my train, soaking up the clean aesthetic. When I arrived at Saint-Michel station, I was almost convinced I had stepped into a stylish old movie.

As I skipped up the steps, the cheerful winter sun greeted me. I walked down the street toward the red awnings Holli had described to me on the phone. Once again, I boggled at the weird twists and turns my life had made lately. I was in Paris. Six months ago, I’d made New Years reservations at my favorite bar, thinking I would be in New York to celebrate. If I’d had any idea...

I would have probably freaked out and run back home to Calumet.

When I pushed through the door, I looked around for Holli, but I didn’t see her. The cafe was pretty dead, with just a couple men sitting at a small table, hunched over their tiny cups of espresso. There was a blonde with short, razored hair and a tight fitting black sweater seated at another table, facing the mirrored back wall. Then she turned, her huge eyes wide in her head, and she squealed, “Sophie!” as she launched herself from her chair.

“Oh my god! Holli!” I rushed at her, not caring about the withering stares of the men quietly chatting at their table. “You cut your hair!”

“They cut it for the show.” She rolled her eyes. “I like it, but it’s going to be such a bitch to grow it out. Sophie, my god! Look at you!”

I looked down at myself. “I... Don’t look any different.”

“You look happier than you did when I left,” she argued, hugging me tight.

“I am happier.” Oh my god, I’d missed her. “I’m happier now that I can see you!”

“Um, you could Skype me, bitch,” she reminded me as we took our seats. “Deja Skypes me every day.”

“I bet she does.” I raised my eyebrows. After I’d had raunchy Skype sex with Neil, Holli had shared all sorts of stories about her internet sexcapades. I knew what she and her girlfriend were getting up to online. “How are things going there?”

“Things are going awesome.” She blushed and grinned. “She said the I-love-you word.”

“I knew she would. Did she do it at the airport?” I’d had the scene already painted in my mind when they’d left for Holli’s flight.

Holli nodded enthusiastically. “It was very romantic.”

A waiter came to take our orders, and Holli helped me out with some truly impressive French.

“Wow, look at you, all
Française
with your bad self.” I slipped my coat off and arranged it over the back of my chair.

“Well, I took it in college, and a lot of it came back once I was totally immersed.” She shrugged. “Hey, but speaking of romance, fill me in on you and Neil.”

“Well, we didn’t keep the baby,” I told her, even though she already knew that. “And he has cancer, so... That’s not fun.”

“I can imagine. Actually, I can’t.” Holli’s expression fell. “How bad is it?”

“He’s had leukemia for four years, it’s just now getting to the point that they have to do anything serious about it.” I shrugged. I knew it sounded awful and shocking to Holli, but I was getting used to the reality of it. “He’s going to have a stem cell transplant and chemotherapy.”

“Yikes. Are you okay?” Holli reached across the small table, and I gave her hand a squeeze.