Josephine
Just like he promised, I was tossing and turning the whole night. The rare times I did sleep, I dreamt of his wonderful mouth. No one has ever kissed me the way he did. It was full of force, full of fire and passion - I was wet immediately. I melt into his body like never before. He caged me like a lion cages his prey - and I like it. I felt safe, not in danger. In fact, I wanted even more. Oliver was right.
He has gotten under my skin.
And I don't like that one bit.
No other man has ever driven me this crazy. It was always me who held the reins. It was always easy for me to get my fix for the night. But I never wanted a man more in my life.
Suddenly, Char's snapping fingers appear in front of my eyes. "Hello?! Have you been listening to me at all?"
I wince and turn my gaze off of the luscious green manicured lawns that surrounds the Hurlingham Club, one of the many clubs in London that I'm a member in. We're sitting on one of the many terraces that offer the perfect spot for an afternoon tea. Hurlingham has huge grounds that are completely safe from prying eyes with outdoor and indoor pools, squash and tennis courts, a gym, bar, conservatory, in addition to countless rooms and terraces. It resembles more of a country estate than a members' club.
That's why not only London's elite is here but also Royalty - my best friend Char known as HRH Princess Charlotte of Wales.
Luckily for us, the waiting list has been closed for a few decades now so no new members can enter one of London's most exclusive clubs - unless you're marrying a member of course.
"Great, now I have to start all over again." Charlotte says with a sigh. Her blonde hair is wrapped into an elegant chignon and she's dressed in an ensemble from Armani. The black plisee skirt that she paired with a laced top hides her pregnancy very well. Six weeks along today and she's glowing almost as much as Rory at Frogmore House.
"I'll listen to you this time, I promise."
She rolls her navy eyes at me, "Every third Wednesday afternoon is our time. Where is your head anyway?"
With Oliver. "I'm focused now."
Char leans back and takes a sip of her lemonade, "So, Ana was right. That Oliver has gotten under your skin." She says with a grin on her lips.
I will kill Ana! "She doesn't know what she's talking about."
"Come on, we're talking about your bigger sister here! That psychic knows everything before we even know it ourselves! She told me she foresaw this wedding, too, you know. And Rory's wedding with George."
"But not the triplets, that's for sure."
"No, that was fate's little fingers doing it's magic!"
"Like it has done in your uterus?!"
"Stop changing the subject!" She hisses at me, "Tell me about Oliver."
"I don't know anything about him."
She growls, "Alright fine. Let me pull everything out of your nose then. Is he a good kisser?"
"Yes."
"Is he good in bed?"
"I don't know, he refuses to sign the NDA."
"But you guys kissed. Kisses always lead to sex with you."
"That was an accident. We weren't suppose to kiss but then things got out of control and before I knew it my lips were on his-"
"Wait, you kissed him?!" Char's navy eyes widen. "You've never made the first step!"
"That's not true. I always am the one who puts the NDA on the table."
"Yeah that doesn't count." She waves her left hand at me, showing off her huge marquise shaped diamond which is surrounded by half moon shaped diamonds on a yellow golden band. I must admit, Nate did design a very pretty engagement ring. It fits Char's title and personality. "So, what does he look like? Is he tall? Build well? Does he have a six pack?"
I sigh, "I really don't know him that well."
"I'm not asking about the name of his pet here! I want to have a visual on my mind. Ana didn't really say much."
"Fine. He's from Brazil. From Rio."
"So dark hair and mocha eyes?"
"No the opposite actually. Short dark blonde hair and green eyes. Sometimes as deep as a pine and sometimes as light as the sea foam."
"So, you're basically telling me he is the male version of Giselle Bündchen?" Char asks me with wide eyes. "Sounds hot!"
I chuckle. "Fitting but he doesn't work as a model - I think. I mean, he definitely could though... He's about a head taller than me."
"So over two meters?"
"Yes. I don't know if he has a six pack because he tends to wear loose fitting clothes. Ripped jeans and lumberjack shirts with old converse sneakers that nearly fall apart. I've seen him wearing a suit once that was on our meeting at the Ritz."
"You invited him into the Ritz?!"
"Of course. It's where I have all my one-nightstands."
"And he didn't sign?"
"No."
"I see. And you saw him again when?"
"Two days ago at a salsa club. We kissed in a private room. Turns out he has absolutely no idea who I was."
"He doesn't read the news or watch tv?"
I shrug, "I don't know."
"Where did you guys meet first?"
"At a café in Battersea. I bought for his cappuccino. He didn't have any money and got the line behind him angry. We met again a month ago at the soup kitchen where I help out. And then again in Greenwich on my first day at the social media department... and at the church where I helped out Wolfram... and at the charity gala for the Bolton Foundation to which uncle Ryan convinced me to attend."
"He actually was a guest there?"
"No, he worked there as a waiter. I bumped into him after I reanimated Richard. We danced an Argentine Tango in the hallway - that's when I caved and asked him to meet me at the Ritz the next day. He turned up looking very decent in his grey suit. It didn't fit him very well, but the effort counts, right? But when he found out why I asked him to meet me there, he snapped." I chuckle, "Because he actually thought it was actually a date. Crazy!"
"Totally!" Char says sarcastically while rolling her eyes.
I ignore her comment. "After a few weeks we met again at the salsa club and kissed. End of story."
"The way Ana described it to me, this sounds like the beginning not like the end." Char narrows her navy eyes at me, "He's a good kisser then?"
Breathtaking - literally. I shrug.
"That's new." She leans back in her chair, "Well, keep me updated. I'll make sure to leave an empty seat next to you in the St. George's Chapel."
"I won't bring him to your wedding."
"Yeah, we'll see about that, maid of honour."
My eyes widen at her words, "Maid of honour?"
"Yes of course. Who did you think I would ask?"
"Rory?"
"Are you kidding me?! This is my day! She will steal most of the spotlight by appearing a month after giving birth to triplets anyway, so I want to hold tight to the little that's left!" She takes a sip of her lemonade, "And you won't do that. I mean, sure the world is going to wonder why the hell this beauty is still single almost a year after her sister married, but that's something I can deal with."
"You could ask Rory to come to the wedding reception afterwards."
"No, I can't do that. The heirs to the throne and their wives have to be at the Royal wedding - Royal protocol. Otherwise that signals we have some kind of quarrel going on." Charlotte shrugs. "Besides if George comes alone the media will just focus on the dark circles under his eyes and wonder if he can really juggle parenthood and royalty."
"Well, I'm honoured to be your maid of honour. So, when shall I start planning your hen night?"
She grins at me, "I don't want anything big. French Cay. A weekend. Right after Rory gave birth - whenever that's going to be."
I nod, "That's easy. Who do you want to take with us?"
"Lady Louise, Savannah and Isla Philips, Mia and Lena Tindall..." she thinks for a moment, "Oh and Beatrice. Definitely Beatrice, she knows how to throw a party!"
"Meghan knows how to throw a party as well." I point out. They're about the same age.
"Yeah, no. She knows how to host tea parties and her Californian wine parties with popcorn and way too much food - No, not Meghan. She's probably going to be busy anyway."
"True. She's touring the Commonwealth countries again, isn't she?"
"Yeah..."
"Anyone from Oxford?"
"Maybe Pippa Winfields. I saw her the other day at Soho Club in London. She's marrying some investment banker next year."
"Okay. Pippa and Beatrice... Louise, Savannah, Isla, Mia, Lena... anyone else?"
"No that should be all. No stripper." She says and I nod in response, "Oh and Ana. She could do hand readings." Charlotte chuckles.
"Not Della?"
"Okay, Della as well. We could need a doctor after all... for hangovers and stuff."
"So, lots of champagne?"
"Well alcohol free for me but for the rest, yes. And massages... and lots of sun. I want to develop a tan."
"Three days won't be enough for that." I point out.
She waves with her hand, "Let me decide that."
I chuckle, "Alright. I'll make sure the jet stays fully fuelled from mid April onwards."
"Good. And put in a special appointment your diary." Char says before she takes another sip of her lemonade.
"Special appointment?"
"Yes. May the 8th. I'll have my wedding dress fitting and you need to get your maid of honour dress fitted."
"Wait, I thought it was just suppose to be a morning dress with a hat?"
"Yeah, not for you, maid of honour. I thought you could wear a pale blue/lilac dress also by Alexander McQueen. Silk with short sleeves that have lace along the edges and at the V neckline. I think it would look good."
"It does sound good."
"We're using Delphimium, Freesia, English roses, Peonies, Stocks and Lillium Casablanca in the flower arrangements. Oh and of course the ballon flowers, Nate's favourite flowers. Mostly in a very rich blue and lilac colour, but some are even white. I thought you could have that in your hair. The bridesmaids will have a matching bow around their waists and a flower crown on their heads."
"No tiaras?" I joke.
Char chuckles, "No, no tiaras."
"Will your Mum wear one? And the Queen?"
"Camilla will definitely wear a tiara but not my Mum. I mean, this is not a state event so there's no real reason to wear a tiara. But the Queen as the representative of the state has to wear one."
"And you of course."
She nods," And me."
"Did you choose one yet?"
"There's not really a big choice. I'll wear the Cartier Tiara that my Mum wore on her wedding day. I would have chosen it anyway. I thought about the Spencer Tiara or the Cambridge Lover's knot tiara but they're too big. Plus, I've worn them before to state banquets so they have had their time in the spotlight. The Cartier Tiara is the right choice."
"It will look lovely on you."
Ever since talking to Charlotte, my dreams about Oliver have gotten extremely vivid. So, this is why I ended up at the soup kitchen before the week is even over. I told Ralph that his service was no longer needed tonight after another unfocused day at work.
I don't want three months with Oliver.
But I don't want a night with another man either.
It's almost nine as the door to the soup kitchen opens and Oliver steps out. As always, he's dressed in a green lumberjack shirt with dark washed jeans and converse sneakers that nearly fall apart. His blonde hair is still short. I was excited about fisting his hair when he makes me come but somehow this hairstyle suits him as well.
"Hi." His pine green eyes are wide as he sees me leaning against my silver Aston Martin.
"Three months." I breathe out as I uncross my arms. I'm wearing my beloved blue baseball cap with a white embroidered L, a black cashmere sweater, black jeans and black stilettos since I'm here after work. The baseball cap is a staple in my glove department and it's very useful in neighbourhoods where I don't want to recognised in.
"Four."
"No, you said three-"
"It's you who couldn't wait a week which means I have the upper hand and I'm saying four."
Sixteen weeks are way too much! "14 weeks." I compromise.
"14 weeks." He agrees with a nod and a smile on his lips.
"Good. You're coming to my place. Get in." I tell him before opening the drivers door of my car.
He holds my door after I get seated. "I'm not sleeping with you tonight."
"I'm well aware of the rules." I tell him before nodding towards the passenger seat. "Get inside. I can't park here long or otherwise the people will know who owns such a car and my reputation is ruined."
He lets go of my door and walks around the car before sitting down next to me. He's too tall for the seat but he looks hot in my car.
"You can adjust the seat." I tell him before starting the engine. He reaches behind him and pushes the seat back as far as possible as I drive through Covent Garden. "How was the soup kitchen?"
"Good. Very full today."
"I see no one vomited on you this time." I answer as I navigate through the narrow streets with ease.
He chuckles as I stop at a red light. "No, I'm getting the hang of it."
"That's nice."
"Are you still coming this Sunday?"
"Of course. Just because you will know how awesome I am in bed by then doesn't mean I won't show up. I'm going there for the people not for you."
"You're an enigma, you know that?"
"How so?" I continue driving down the main road until I finally see the skyscraper coming into my view that I call home.
"You're an asshole for once. You talk like the worst asshole on earth and you sure as hell drink like one! You're brutally honest and you're very arrogant. I have never met a woman - or men - that was more arrogant than you!"
That's one side of me. He hasn't seen me around my family and he never will. I'm a different person when I'm around them. "I don't see how that's an enigma."
"Because you're fucking kind as well! You serve in a soup kitchen, you help out in a church that isn't even your belief, you help out at a deaf school and I bet you even donate lots of your money and looking at this car it must be more than I will ever own. You helped me out in this cafe without bothering to tell me your name or giving me a chance to pay you back."
"Well, you can always pay me back in the bedroom." I ask as we slowly reach the skyscraper that sits right at the Thames. I have no idea how he found out I help out at the dead school. Not even my parents know that I think.
No, they know. They know everything.
"See? That's what I mean. You're hot and cold - at the same time! How is that possible?! How can one woman be so mind-blowingly beautiful but be a dick at the same time? I know you care about people. You're not an asshole. You're actually very kind."
"Oliver, I've said it before but I guess I have to repeat myself. You don't know me. And you never truly will. Yes, I am an asshole. Because I don't stop until I get what I want. And whatever obstacle is in my way, I remove it. I destroy it. I have done a lot to get where I am today and no one will take away what's mine." I tell him as I stop in front of the entrance of the skyscraper that's called Landmark Place right in front of the river Thames. A porter rushes over to the Aston Martin right away. He opens the door for me and I get out.
"Miss Bolton, good evening."
"Hi, Greg." I greet him as Oliver gets out of the car as well. "I hope you had a good shift so far."
"Brilliant. Especially when I get to drive a stunning car like this."
I smile, "I should bring it out more often, shouldn't I?"
"Definitely, Miss." He says before tapping his hat and getting into the car. He shuts the door and drives off to the underground garage.
"Where is he going?" Oliver asks me as we walk into the skyscraper.
"To the garage. He's parking my car. I hate underground garages." I explain as we past the reception desk with another porter and security men. The lobby is held in light grey marble that matches the steel which they used here.
"That's his job? To park expensive cars?"
"Yes."
"Maybe I should apply for a job like this here as well."
"You're too tall for that. It would be a hassle for you." I answer simply as we reach the glass elevator that belongs to the penthouse. The doors glide open and we step inside. I push the PH button and the doors glide close without a sound.
Oliver looks around as the glass elevator lifts. "You live in the penthouse?"
"Yes." I confirm before looking at him. He seems amazed by all of this. "Any more questions?"
"I said I wanted to get to know you not investigate you."
"Well if you won't ask, you won't know."
"Don't you have any questions?"
"No. Not for now." I answer with a shrug as the doors glide open again. I walk out of the elevator and step right into my wide living space that consists of an open living room, dining room and kitchen. There's a glass staircase to my right which leads to the rooftop garden, my favourite part of the penthouse. "Actually, I do have one question. Are you allergic to anything?" I ask as Oliver follows me.
Even with his size and broad shoulders he still looks small compared to the huge space that I call my home. He takes his time as he scans the couches that are softer than any other that I've sit before and the long wide walnut dining table with 22 chairs. But his eyes stop at the view in front of us. I have a 360 degree view over London and I didn't brother to hang any curtains on the floor to ceiling windows because I know the glass is mirrored on the outside so I don't have to worry about anyone looking into my personal space.
Not that anyone ever lived that high to look into my space in the first place.
"This is where you live?" He asks me, the shock clearly audible in his voice. "Are you a freaking millionaire?"
"No. The correct term to describe my bank account is billionaire, I believe." I answer as his eyes meet mine.
"You're joking."
"Do you see me laughing?"
"No but this... this is unreal."
"Have a walk around. It's very real, believe me." I say before slipping out of my heels. "Take off your shoes before you do so." I pick them up and open the wardrobe that's next to the elevator. Most of my coats and my favourite shoes are stacked here nicely. "I hate dirty footprints in my home."
He gets out of his dirty sneakers and places them next to mine before hanging his jacket on one of the free hangers. "You have a nice home."
"I know. I never want to leave this space." Barefoot, I walk over to my kitchen, feeling the floor heating that's everywhere in my penthouse. "So, any allergies?" I try again now that the first shock has worn off. I slip out of my blazer and place it on one of the barstools that are standing around my kitchen island.
He shakes his head, "I eat everything."
"Good, then you'll like my pasta with shrimps." I open the fridge of my modern white marbled kitchen with walnut countertops.
"You cook?" He asks me surprised.
"Yes. I can make more than ham and cheddar sandwiches." I tell him as I get out the shrimps that have soaked in a marinade the whole day. They look delicious! I shut the door of the fridge again with a smile on my lips. "There's a pot in the left cupboard underneath the kitchen island. Could you fill that with water?" I ask as I try to open the cupboard above me. One thing I don't like about this kitchen is the high hanging cupboards. With my heels on, I have no problem reaching them but without it gets a bit tricky.
Suddenly, I can feel his body warmth radiating behind me. His masculine smell fills my nostrils as his hand opens the cupboard above me with ease. It's where I keep all sorts of pasta. "Which ones do you want to use?"
"The tagliatelle. That's the ribbon noodles."
"I know how tagliatelle look like." He says before grabbing the whole wheat pasta out of the cupboard. He gets out the glass jar and places them on the walnut countertop in front of me. Just as I want to open the lid of the jar, he places his hand on it first. A jolt of electricity runs through my veins as my palm touches the back of his hand. Goosebumps start covering my arms and legs immediately.
I've never felt that way before.
This man is under my skin.
No doubt.
Within a blink of an eye, he has swirled me around. "You felt that, didn't you?"
Of course I felt that. "Yes." I confirm in a whisper. But I have no idea what it means.
"Good." He says before taking a step back and walking to the kitchen island where I store my pots underneath.
I turn around and watch him filling the pot with water, "Wait, that's it?"
He places the pot on my induction stove top and stares at it for a second. "How do I turn that thing on?"
I turn on the induction stove top before flipping on the bora cooktop extractor that sits next to the stove. "Easy peasy." I say with a smirk on my lips.
"Do you always cook for yourself?"
"Yes. Sometimes when I have my family over we all cook together."
"That's why you have such a big dining table."
I nod although that wasn't a question. "Pour a bit of olive oil and salt into the pot."
His pine coloured eyes look at me.
"Right in front of you. Pull the apothecary cabinet towards you. That's where you'll find everything you need." I explain before getting out a grill pan and putting it on the stove next to the pot. "You like shrimps, right?"
"As I said, I'm not a picky eater."
I turn on the stove and start putting the shrimps in it that start sizzling on the grill pan. "Normally I would grill them on a barbecue but since it just started to rain, it's better to do it here."
"You have an actual grill?"
"Upstairs. On the rooftop. That's where the stairs lead."
"Do you eat seafood often?"
"Are continuing with the inquisition now?" I ask back.
"We have a deal."
"That reminds me. You still have to sign the NDA."
"I told you I would sign it."
"But I learned to not take a man by his word. Have an eye on the food, I'll be right back." I tell him before turning on my heel.
Oliver
I watch her strutting through her penthouse like she lives here every day. And I guess she does but to me this... this prosperity is mind blowing. I've never been to a place like this. I never even dreamed of being in a place like this. I didn't even know so much luxury existed.
But then Josephine happened and my world turned upside down.
I take a look around in her home. I can see the Tower Bridge and the London eye from here. They're to my left as I stare out of those stunning floor to ceiling windows. She even has a terrace that probably wraps around the whole penthouse. It has three floors and a rooftop! That's insane! The interior is as exclusive as the view. Everything is designer and screams luxury. I don't know what the bedrooms or the bathrooms look like but I'm sure they're just as beautiful as what I'm seeing right now. She has a dining table that has enough seats for a football team! The walnut table is polished and the royal blue velvet chairs have gold brushed legs. A vase with pink peonies is standing on it in the centre. I bet she gets them delivered every week. Somehow the pretty roses remind me of her. They fit to her with their many different layers and the blush pink colour.
The living room is bigger than my whole flat in Notting Hill. Actually, even her bathrooms would probably be bigger than the flat that I share with Finn.
I couldn't even afford a piece of this furniture here. I beg even her notebooks have gold edges. How did I end up here?
"Hey, you need to have an eye on the shrimps otherwise they get burned and I hate throwing food away." Her voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
I look down into the pan and wiggle the shrimps. They're not burned yet. "They're doing good in here. Getting some colour." I look up and stare at Josephine. She's dressed in an all black outfit that consists of a black jeans and a black turtleneck. She looks irresistible. In her hands she's holding a thin white folder. "Is that the NDA?"
"Yes. I made the adjustments we talked about. You can read and sign this while I finish dinner."
I nod and grab the folder out of her hands. I walk around the massive white marbled kitchen island before sitting down on one of the five brass barstools.
Then I open the agreement.
Josephine
I have an eye on the shrimps and one eye on Oliver. He's reading the agreement very carefully. "You can just add your address and full name with the pen." I tell him.
His head swings up, "Why would you need my address?"
"For safety reasons."
He gulps before adding his address with the black pen. His pine green eyes continue reading the NDA. "I don't have a mobile." He breathes out.
How can someone not have a mobile? Everyone has a mobile today! "I'll get you one."
His eyes shoot up at my words. "No. I only said it so you won't wonder when you don't see a telephone number written on this paper."
"Okay. Then I won't get you one. But how am I suppose to reach you if I want a booty call?"
"A booty what?"
I turn around and look at him. "Sex. I work late, most of the time I'm not home before midnight. How am I suppose to reach you then if I'm in the mood for sex?"
"I'm not a prostitute you just ring." He hisses at me. "I told you what I want."
"And I told you I would give it to you for 14 weeks. However, you also have to give me what I want."
"Sex."
"Yes and lots of that. I need to know I can get my fix from you whenever I feel like it."
"Your fix? I'm not your drug dealer."
I shrug, "We all have our baggage. Mine is sex. I'm sure you have something as well."
He stares at me for a moment before sighing, "Fine, I'll get myself a mobile."
"It has to be an iPhone. In case I'm abroad and I want to FaceTime with you."
"Are you fucking kidding me?! Do you know how much these things cost?!"
I sigh before pulling on a white drawer in my kitchen island. I pull out a black iPhone from last season and slide it over to him. "You can give it back to me after 14 weeks or keep it, I don't care."
He stares at the thing like he has never seen anything more beautiful. Men and their toys.
"It's ready to go. The number should still work. You don't need to buy anything as the contract is still good for another two years."
His pine green eyes look up at me again, "You should sell it and end the contract. I'm sure you can still make some money with it."
"Oliver, look around. Does it look like I need more money than I already have? I can't possible spend all of my money even if I wanted to." I tell him with a smile on my face. "I'm rich. It's just the way it is."
"And arrogant."
I nod, "Yes and arrogant."
He sighs, "I don't do well with gifts."
Really what is it with his pride? He should just be grateful and take it. He can sell it after 14 weeks and have the money. It's really no big deal for me. "Then see it as a loan. Give it back in 14 weeks."
He nods, "Okay. Anything else you want me to sign?"
"No, that would be all."
"Good." He says before flipping the page and signing the NDA. "Happy?"
"No. I'll be happy when I have you between my legs."
He shows me a dirty grin that makes me wet in record time as he lays the pen beside the NDA. "My rules."
"No, my rules." I correct him. "We've agreed to 14 weeks. I suggest we start after dinner."
"We've agreed to getting to know each other. You've agreed to allow me to get to know you."
I turn off the stove, "Then ask what you want to know so we can get to the real stuff."
The sound of his chuckle resonates in my whole body. "Have you always been so... rich?"
"Yes. I have been born into this privileged life. However I don't take it for granted. I help the less fortuned whenever I can."
"Like the soup kitchen, church and school for deaf."
"Yes. But I also donate money to several charities. I'm working at my family's foundation, too. Not as much as my parents would like me to but every now and then I help out my uncle. Especially with social media."
"Is that your thing? Social media?"
"Yes. It's what I did my masters at Harvard." I answer.
To my surprise he doesn't look impressed. People usually look impressed when I drop he word Harvard or Oxford. But not Oliver. "I never went to college."
Oh, I didn't know that. I thought the source of his money worries would be too high study loans. "College is not everything."
"But I bet your whole family went to college."
"Yes but as I said it's not everything. You can still learn without paying for tuition."
He nods, "You mean through books and stuff."
I turn around and stir the pot with the cooking pasta in. "Yes. Life is your teacher. Not some professor at an expensive school."
Oliver
How can she be so wise? How can she be so kind? How can she be so rich and yet so poor? How can she be so beautiful?
I just can't seem to figure her out. Whenever I think I know something about her, she flips my knowledge and I have to start at the bottom again.
"Eat your pasta. We didn't cook it just for you to stare at it. Or me." Josephine's angelic voice reminds me. She's facing me instead of the awesome view behind her. The sparkling lights of the Tower Bridge are behind her. I can even see a few stars and the moon on the sky. I don't know why she wouldn't want to see that.
"You have a breathtaking home." I complement her.
"I know. And now eat." She demands before taking a bite of her tagliatelle with a shrimp.
As always, I follow her demands. With my fork, I pick up a shrimp and wrap it around the pasta. I bite into it and an explosion of different tastes fill my mouth. It's crispy and soft, roasted and well cooked... it's spicy and sour... it's so well balanced!
"You like it." She says with a smirk on her lips.
"It's fantastic!" I breathe out and take a sip of my white wine. That wine fits perfectly to the dish as well!
"It's my father's recipe. He taught us all how to cook."
"Your father cooks?" I ask surprised. Troy Bolton doesn't seem like the cooking Dad. He looks like a ruthless negotiator.
"Yes and my mother bakes. Really well as you already know." She shows me a smile that makes my heart skip a beat. If she continues showing me these signs, I might sleep with her tonight anyway.
I know my cock would agree with me. I've been hard ever since I saw her leaning against the silver Aston Martin that she simply calls a car. "Her sohnos are just as good as they're at home. Maybe even better."
"I'll make sure to pass on the compliment."
"Are you close to your mother?"
She shrugs before she takes a sip of her white wine. "We are but I don't talk about my sex life with her. That's where I draw the line."
I nod, "That's understandable."
"What about you and your Mum?"
"We talk once a month via Skype. I call her on the sixteenth every month at 8:35 pm. For five minutes, we get to see each other and hear each other's voices..." it's the favourite time of the month for me. "And sometimes she brings my siblings as well."
"You have siblings?"
"Yes. Two brothers. Johnathan and Caio. Seven and 14."
She nods, "My little brothers are seven as well. Cal and Gideon. Elias is a year older."
"You have three little brothers?"
She leans back in her royal blue velvet chair, "You really didn't google me, did you?"
"No, I'd rather spent my time in the Internet café talking to my mother."
She giggles, "Those still exists? I thought everyone would have a cellphone by now."
"Not everyone can afford one!" I hiss at her.
"Sorry, of course. I apologise." She says in a genuine voice. "So, yes I have three little brothers. Elias, Calloway and Gideon. Cal and Gideon are twins and were born eight weeks before my twin nieces, Caroline and Isabella but we call them Carol and Bella. They're the daughters of my oldest sister, Adaline or Della as we call her. She's married to my father's best friend Wladimir."
"Sounds complicated."
She chuckles, "Complicated doesn't even cover it. Anastasia is a little over a week you get than Della. She was adopted by my parents when she was seven. Ana is married to Sasha, the only official Prince of the Romanov bloodline. That's why Ana is know as HRH Princess of Romanov. Rory is married to George, but you already know that. And Nate is engaged to Char."
I love how she calls them by nicknames like it's the most normal thing in the world to have British and Russian Royalty within your family. Her family meetings must be unforgettable!
"Why are you grinning?" She asks me.
I didn't even realise I was grinning. "It's lovely to see and hear you talk about your family with such passion. You really love them."
"Of course. Family is the most important thing in the world. Nothing tops it. No crown, no Nobel prize, no Olympic Medal and no Grand Slam win... When we're together all of that doesn't exist. We're just a family - without titles above our heads."
"Even the little ones don't call your sisters Duchess of Oxford or Princess of Romanov?"
She chuckles, "No! God, no! They're Rory and Ana to us. But Cal and Gideon call Nate Prince Charlotte, though." She laughs at her own words. "It's really bothering Nate but they just love to mock him and even got Bella, Carol and Eli into the boat. It's so funny to watch!"
I don't get half of what she's saying but the smile on her face is enough for me to mirror her grin. She looks so carefree. I've never seen her like this. "Prince Charlotte?"
She takes another sip of her white wine, "Yeah, well technically it's the title Nate's going to get when he marries Char - if he gets a title. That's still up to debate as the King only informs the couple on the night before the wedding if they get a title or not. Rory thinks they might even get the titles of Duke and Duchess of some sort of Dukedom but Char is not so sure since she is... anyway, upon marriage Rory became not only Duchess of Oxford, Countess of Rosslyn and Baroness of Chichester and Belfast but also Princess George. So Nate will become Prince Charlotte upon marriage to Char, which the little ones just find hilarious and now mock him about it whenever they see him." She giggles. "And to be honest, I kind of sprung on that wagon as well. Prince Charlotte sounds kind of funny."
"It sounds like you guys have a really good time when you all come together."
She nods, "We are always laughing our hearts out at some point during our dinners. Mostly when we're having dessert which is some kind of cake or other pastry that my mother made for us."
"And they're all sugar free?" I ask her.
She nods, "But to our surprise you never taste that. She perfected that sugar free skill over decades."
"But why?"
"Well, apart from the obvious health reasons, it's actually because of Della. She's highly gifted and highly intelligent and unlike Ana, who shares the same specialties, she goes crazy on cane sugar or any other sugar that's artificial. She can have maple syrup or honey but even that needs to be limited. She gets her sugar from fruits and veggies. That's when she stays fine but when she has too much sugar or normal sugar as you call it, she gets... she gets kind of crazy. Her brain works on overload and she stays up for 48 hours straight almost. It only happened to her once when she was little. I think she ate a cupcake on a girl's birthday and ran around like crazy because she was on that sugar high... ever since then, my Mum and Dad have cut out all sugar from her diet and raised us all the same. I don't mind having sugar but I prefer to be sugar free which is weird, I know but I don't really like the effect it has on my body as well. It makes me feel anxious almost. I can't really explain it."
"And Della was the one married to Wladimir?"
She nods, "Wlad, yes. They have Carol and Bella together. The twins go to Le Rosey with Eli, Cal and Gideon. The-"
"Boarding School in Switzerland." I finish her sentence.
"Yes. You googled it?"
"No, you've talked about it when we met in Greenwich."
"Right, I did! I totally forgot about it."
I won't forget a word she said. "I don't see any of your work hanging here. Don't you print out the photos you take?"
"I have a folder where I collect my best work but no, I don't like to have them hanging around. Unlike my Dad. He loves to plaster the walls with his photos of us at home."
"Will you show me your work one day?"
"Maybe." She says with a small smile on her lips. "What about your Dad?"
"Died seven years ago. Before Jonathan was born."
"I'm sorry."
"We've learned to live with the pain."
To my surprise she reaches over the walnut table and grabs my left hand. Tingles spread from our touching hands through my whole body. They intensify the longer she holds my hand and my heart starts skipping every second beat the longer we touch.
"I really am sorry. I wouldn't be the woman I am without my father. He raised me and my siblings along with my mother. And I'm sure your father played a similar role in your life."
Life when he was still alive was definitely easier. We had a roof over our heads and walls made of cement to keep away any neighbours... now, the living situation for my family is different. And although I send them every penny I make, it's still not enough to provide them the standard we were used to when Dad was still alive.
Life has definitely changed.
"He was." I whisper and notice how broken my voice sounds. I pick up the wine glass and almost empty it with one gulp.
"What was his name?"
"Carlos." I say and she nods. "He named me after him. My full name is Oliver Carlos Rodriguez."
She smiles at me, "A very pretty name that fits a very pretty man."
"I take that as a complement."
She lets go of my hand and intertwines her fingers with mine. "You should. You have no one here in London, I assume you work your ass off to pay rent and still send every penny you own home to Brazil... I think your father would be very proud of the man you've become." She says and squeezes my hand again.
My body goes crazy from her words and that touch. All my synapses focus on her like she's the centre of my universe. I didn't expect to meet a woman as wonderful as her in London. She's amazing and breathtaking... and incredibly smart. "One day, I hope my family can join me here in London." I whisper my heart's biggest desire.
"I'm sure you're doing anything in your power to make that dream come true."
"I am." But it's not enough. No matter how much I work, how relentless I am... it's not enough money to even provide them with three warm meals a day. It's enough for them to buy school uniforms and pay for tuition but that's it.
No matter what I do, it's just never enough. That's fucking frustrating.
"How many jobs do you have?"
"Three. Luigi's cafe on the weekend, a souvenir shop during the week from eight until six and afterwards the pub in Covent Garden, usually until one in the morning. Unless there's some kind of football game on, that's when I sometimes have to work without getting any sleep at all."
"And you live in Notting Hill with Finn?"
"Yes. We share a small two bedroom flat."
"That's pretty far away from Covent Garden, the souvenir shop that I assume is somewhere around Buckingham Palace and Battersea where Luigi's is located." She thinks out loud. "And I assume you walk everywhere to save money because you want to send that to your family in Brazil."
How is she doing this?! "Yes."
"Where do they live in Brazil?"
"Rio de Janeiro."
"A very beautiful city, although I've never been there long enough to visit the sugarloaf mountain or the Cristo Redentor. In which part exactly does your family live?"
"Rocinha."
Her lips form a thin line and I know she knows what the name is associated with. Rocinha is a Favela, the Brazilian name for a Slum, but it's the most dangerous Favela of whole Brazil. Crime is not a daily topic but an hourly topic there. Because of that my father go killed on his way home from the grocery store one day. He got killed because of the food that he bought for us - for his family. We paid a price for being alive that no family should ever pay. "You have to get them out of there."
"They have constant police around them."
"It's not enough." She pushes me, "You need to buy them a plane ticket to London!"
I can't! Not only because I don't have the money but because they don't have the papers. If they made it out of Rio, they would never make it through Heathrow. "I'm working on it."
"I could send them my jet-"
"No."
"But-"
"Josephine, I said no."
She lets go of my hand, "You stubborn man! Get over your fucking pride and let me save your family!"
"This arrangement is not about you becoming the next Mother Theresa! They are my family and I will do anything I can-"
"How like you're doing everything you can right now?! You're working three jobs and you can barely afford your flat, Oliver! You're sending every penny you make to them. I bet you don't even have enough money for food at the end of the month!" She hisses at me. "Look around yourself, Oliver! I am rich! I can offer you help-"
"I will not take alms from you!" I almost yell at her.
"Let me help you!" She explodes and rises from her chair. "I have more money than I can spend in my whole life! I can easily send them my jet and get you a flat here-"
"NO! I don't need your help!" I yell at her so loudly that she stumbles from it.
"Oliver, just listen to me-"
"No!" I rise from the chair and nearly knock the table over. "This was a bad idea. We shouldn't have signed that agreement."
"Oliver,"
"I'm going to go. Thank you for the dinner and the wine." I interrupt her and turn on my heel. But to my surprise she grabs my wrist so tightly that she almost breaks it. She pulls me back - with such force I didn't expect her to have - until she has her arms wrapped around my body. The touch soothes me in a way I didn't think was possible.
For minutes we just stand there, holding each other until our pulses have calmed and our breaths are normal again.
This embrace from her almost makes me forget why I was so angry in the first place.
"I'll drop the subject, okay? But you barely touched your plate and I really hate throwing away food so please sit down again and finish your plate. I won't mention your family again, okay?" She whispers into my ear before letting go of me and looking at me with her sky blue eyes. "Okay?" She asks me again.
I sigh, "Fine. But my family is taboo."
She nods, "Okay."
"But we can still talk about your family." I say as I sit down on my royal blue velvet chair again.
"I'm open on spilling the tea on them if that means you finish your plate." She says with a smile on her lips before sitting down across me again. "Ask me anything."
"Have you fucked with Jacques?"
Her sky blue eyes widen at my brutality. "No, no we haven't. I didn't even kiss him. We were at Harvard Business School together and graduated as valedictorians."
"No romantic feelings? I saw your tango."
She sighs, "I lead him but I made it look like he lead me. He's not a bad dancer but he's not as good as me and he certainly can't lead. I've only ever allowed you to lead me."
"That makes me feel very special."
"You should. Not everyone can sit in my penthouse and enjoy the shrimps tagliatelle that I made using my father's recipe. It's a privilege very few people get to enjoy."
We continue to eat our pasta in comfortable silence with the occasional clinking of our cutlery and wine glasses. I've never had a meal as good as this.
Josephine
I watch him finishing his plate. He didn't leave a single drop of sauce behind. I had a feeling Oliver wasn't exactly wealthy but I didn't expect this. I didn't expect his mum and two brothers to live in Rocinha, it's a horrible part of Brazil. No family should live there. No family should call this place home.
I can't believe he won't let me help him! I have the resources but his pride is too big, too strong to allow him to accept the obvious - my help. But sooner or later I will bring his family to London.
Because I know it's his biggest dream.
And he deserves to feel happiness. He's working his ass off with three jobs. He's basically working until exhaustion almost daily - that's no life for a - I guess - 25 year old. That's no life for anyone. "How old are you?" I ask him as he empties his wine glass.
"26. You?"
"I'm 24. I'll be 25 on August the 14th. When's your birthday?"
He smirks, "So, we're continuing with the inquisition now?"
I return his grin and fold my arms in front of my chest, "Yes."
"Okay. I'll be turning 27 on the 15th of May."
Since it's mid March now, the 15th of May will still be within our 14 week time window. Interesting.
"But I don't want a birthday gift."
"Okay."
"No gifts." He repeats.
I nod, "I heard you."
"Yeah, but I also know by now that you don't always listen to what I say."
"I do listen but I don't share your opinion most of the time." I say before rising from the chair. "Let's clean up. Give me your plate."
But he doesn't listen. Instead he lifts his own plate that has his knife and fork on it and picks up his wine glass. "What kind of flowers are those?" He asks, nodding towards the vase filled with pink peonies.
"Pink peonies. They're my mother's favourite and mine as well. Every Bolton women loves them in our family. It's kind of a thing in our family." I start explains as we walk into the open kitchen, "My Mum always has a bouquet of fresh pink peonies standing in the office that she shares with my Dad. And at home there's always a bouquet standing on the round marble table in the foyer. They also grow in the backyard as my Dad planted them a few decades ago as a wedding gift. They still blossom like on day one. My sister Della has peonies in her rose garden, too. Ana, Rory and she all married with a bouquet of pink peonies like my Mum when she married my Daddy on French Cay."
"French Cay?" He asks me confused.
"That's our private Caribbean Island near the Turks Caicos Islands. It's very pretty. Every year on our parents' wedding anniversary we spend some days there. Just the family. It has become one of many traditions in our family."
"How long have your parents been married?"
"32 years but they've been together for 35." I explain as I place the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.
"Wow, that's long..."
I nod in agreement, "But they're still as in love as on day one. It's ridiculously cute. Sometimes we mock them by calling them love drunken teenagers. Really, it's no wonder they have eight children." I smile as I think of Mummy and Daddy. They make love seem like the best thing of the world. They make marriage look like it's natural. And they make raising eight children look easy.
They were made for each other.
They're soulmates. Just like Della and Wlad, Ana and Sasha, Rory and George, Nate and Char... they belong together.
I close the dishwasher and look up at Oliver who gives me this weird look. "What?"
Without a word he kisses me. But unlike the time in the club, this time the kiss is soft, almost delicate but not without passion. I wrap my arms around his neck as I am not willing to let go of those delicious lips yet. His hands on my hips press me closer to him until I've melted into his body shape.
For minutes, we continue exploring each other's mouths and bodies as my hands slowly glide down his back just like his hands do on mine. The heat inside both of us increases until his huge cock is throbbing against my lower stomach and my clit is pulsing with need, but we don't stop kissing. We get to know each other on a whole new level. It's heaven.
No man has ever kissed me like that. No man has ever touched me like that.
When he lets go, I feel light in my head. It feels like I've got a fever, like I'm burning up from inside. It's crazy!
"Where's your bedroom?" He asks me as he runs his thumb over my lower lip.
"I thought sex was off the table tonight." I challenge him with a grin on my lips.
Suddenly, he grabs my hips and lifts me up. I cry out in surprise and lock my ankles behind his steel hard butt. "I could fuck you in one of the many guest bedrooms you have but-"
"Down the hallway. Last room." I interrupt him and feel his throbbing cock thanking me. "I felt that."
He grins at me as he starts walking, carrying me like I'm as light as a feather. "That's nothing compared to what you will feel in a minute."
I honestly don't doubt that.
Oliver
I wasn't planning on this but she seduced me with her words, with her gazes... with her aura. She pushes my buttons like no one ever before. She could make me do anything for her - literally.
I carry her down a long hallway with hardwood floor, passing many dark wooden closed doors. The walls are painted in a very pale blue that's almost white and framed black and white photos of her and her family hang between the doors but I don't stop to look at them. Not with the woman that's wrapped around me.
I stop at the last dark wooden door and open it. I get rewarded by a stunning view over London at night as the floor-to-ceiling windows take up the entire back wall like in the rest of her stunning penthouse. Her bedroom has the same hardwood floor as the hallway. The three walls are painted in a light grey. There's a walnut vanity with a round brass sunflower mirror on the wall between two doors, probably her bathroom and closet. Across the vanity is her huge bed that has white linen bedding. It's at least king sized, but probably bigger. There are walnut nightstands on each side. A smell of calming lavender comes from the scented candles that sit on each nightstand. No pink. No purple or other feminine colours. Just neutral colours and different textures like the walnut of the nightstands and the vanity as well as the white fluffy rugs on each bedside.
It's a beautiful bedroom. Neutral and yet it has character. I didn't expect her to have such a bedroom but when I think of it, it matches her personality perfectly.
I walk over to the bed and place her on the edge of the bed. She sinks in but only lightly. Her hands quickly open the buttons of my lumberjack shirt, almost tearing them off the fabric. I quickly stripe off the green lumberjack shirt as she opens the button of my jeans. They fall to the ground, forming a pile at my feet. I climb out of the jeans and stripe off my socks in the same movement. Josephine watches every move with glowing navy eyes.
She makes me even harder.
I grab the soft black cashmere sweater and pull it over her head just to reveal a stunning pair of full tits held up by a black laced bra. Perfect tits for a perfect woman. I throw the sweater on the floor as she opens the button of her black skinny jeans in which her legs look endless. She pushes the jeans over her hips and down her ass. I pull on the fabric at her ankles and somehow it seems to glide off her body seamlessly. She looks breathtaking in that black laced underwear. My cock throbs in my boxer briefs.
Her eyes are glued to that movement. "Tell me you're clean."
"Of course I am." I answer immediately. I didn't expect her to have such a clear head in this moment.
"Good because I don't have any conforms here." She grabs the waistband of my boxer briefs and pulls them down, revealing my massive cock that's already oozing with precome. "Jesus, that's one big cock."
She reaches behind herself and undoes the class of her black laced bra to let the strap come loose. The bra slowly inches down her body, revealing the fullest, firmest and roundest tits I have ever seen. Gosh, she's gorgeous! She throws the bra to the floor before booking her thumbs into the waistband of her panties. With her eyes locked on mine, she slowly pushes the thin fabric over her hips, down her ass and legs before kicking it away.
She is all woman—and all curves. She has endless legs with lean toned muscles. Her arms are also shaped with lean muscles and her abs are slightly visible. I stare at her navel and then the nub between her legs, appreciating the lack of hair from her perfectly manicured pussy. Her hips lead to a slender waistline, and then to those gorgeous, eye-popping tits. I can see the hollow of her throat, a piece of her body that will be infected by my kisses soon enough. Her long chestnut waves are cascading around her. It's the perfect contrast to the white bedding.
She's every man's fantasy.
She crawls to the middle of the bed and opens her legs, revealing the pool of moisture that has formed there already. I climb on top of her and feel for the first time how hot she is. Her body heat radiates just like mine. I grab her hips and adjust her underneath me, lining her up perfectly to take my nine inches. "Josephine..." She is so sexy it's actually torture. "Tell me what you want." I want to please her like no other man before me and frankly, I need her soaking wet for my cock.
Instead of a flash of hesitance, her eyes light up with excitement. She tries to cover it up instantly, but she wasn't quick enough to hide it completely. "Eat my pussy, Oliver."
I lean over her body and fist her hair before I give her a soft kiss. I breath into her mouth as I feel her perky tits press against my chest. Now that I have her mouth, I didn't want to pull away. She is an incredible kisser. "Yes, Josephine." I break our kiss and move to my knees on the hardwood floor. I throw her legs over my shoulders and devour her, sucking her clit into my mouth and tasting her perfect sweetness.
She is quiet at first, but eventually, she can't hide her pleasure. She moans from the bed and her hands dig into my hair. Her back arches, and she shifts her hips, giving my mouth access to everything.
I could do this all night, and I am tempted to beat off while I continue to lick and kiss her. Her pussy is a slit of heaven, and I want to taste her for lunch and dinner. But my cock is anxious to be inside her, to stretch apart that tight pussy.
I suck her clit hard into my mouth before I rise to my full height. My arms grip her by the back of the knees, and I stretch her wide apart. The tip of my cock finds her entrance all on its own. I feel the moisture with the head of my cock without even pushing inside.
She wants this as much as I do.
"Josephine, tell me to fuck you."
Her hands snake to my wrists, locking around them tightly. "Fuck me, Oliver." Her lips are swollen from where I kissed her, and her nipples are still hard like diamonds. Her grip around my wrists tightens in anticipation.
I shove my cock inside her, sliding through the moisture and the tightness. I sink deep, feeling her walls tighten around me in reaction. Her body slowly acclimated to me, trying to adjust so she can take in every inch of my long length.
She feels incredible.
She moans in pleasure, "Fuck, this feels amazing. You're so big... it hurts so good."
I rock into her slowly, moaning in the back of my throat as I claim the woman underneath me. My hands leave her knees and move to her tits. I cup them both as I slowly rock into her, sliding in and out of her utter perfection. My cock loves being buried inside her just like this. He never wants to leave. He's already as addicted to her as the rest of my body.
Her tits are even more perfect. So round and firm. My thumbs brush over her nipples, flicking the pebbled skin harshly. My eyes lock on hers as I give her my full length over and over. I can feel her moisture seep down the base of my cock and to my balls as they tap against her ass. I didn't need to wet myself at all before I entered her.
This is meant to be. Our bodies are made to become one. I wanted to pound into her hard and give it to her as rough as possible. But now that we move together, I enjoy the slowness, the sensual movement of our bodies. I love feeling every inch of her, moving slow enough to savour every second. For the first time, I didn't want to fuck hard.
I just wanted to do this.
The quiet sounds she makes get louder as we move together. Her moans turn to pants. And those pants become quiet screams. Her tits shake every time I thrust into her, moving with my momentum.
"You're fucking beautiful." I move my hand to her throat and rest my fingers over the vulnerable skin. I felt her pulse hammering under the skin, thudding deeply. Her blood is pounding in her veins, moving to her heart and then back again. I loved having her in my iron grip.
I bend down and kiss her neck, deepening the angle of my thrusts. My cock reaches a more intimate level, hitting her in the right spot that drives all women crazy. My pelvis rubs against her clit, stimulating it at the same time. My fingers move to the back of her neck and grip her tightly. "Tell me to come inside you."
Her mouth moves against mine when I kiss her. "Come inside me…" she breathes into my face with her glowing navy eyes.
Having her underneath me, is the biggest turn on. I quicken my thrusts, pounding her into the mattress. My cock moves far inside every time I rock into her, and I prepared for her release. I can read her breaths and her moans. I'd fucked enough women to know when they were about to come. I edged myself as I waited, knowing she was just seconds from falling over the edge too. "Come for me."
She bites her bottom lip in the sexiest way before she tightens around me. "Oh god…" Her hands move up my chest and neck until she cups my face. She pulls my mouth close to hers and breaths with me, her moans notched up to nearly screams. "Oliver…"
I didn't even need to tell her to say that. "Here it comes." I'd fantasised about this very moment countless times. I wanted to fill her with so much come that she couldn't walk anywhere without it dripping all over the floor. I wanted her to feel full of me for the rest of the day.
She is still in the midst of her climax, and she digs her nails into my skin as she holds on. "Oliver…"
Her voice does the strangest things to me. My cock thickens just before the release. I shove myself far inside her, wanting to get every single drop as deep as possible. When the wave of pleasure rolls over my body, I nearly forget how to breathe. I moan and crush my mouth against hers, feeling the heat wash over me. I come hard and long, relishing every minute of the exquisite pleasure. It feels so wonderful, like I own the world and everyone in it.
Even when I am finished, I keep my cock inside her. I never want to leave the warmth of this woman. She is better than any lover I'd ever had, and that is saying something because I had experience with some of the most beautiful and confident women in the world. But there is something about Josephine that satisfied my darkest urges.
I slowly pull out of her and watch my come seep from her soaked pussy. I admire my handiwork, my claim.
"That was bloody amazing!" She breathes out as I lay down next to her. She's as breathless as me. Sweat is glittering on her flawless body. She looks so beautiful. "But now I need a shower." She announces before climbing off the bed. She walks past the huge floor to ceiling window front that make up the back wall of her bedroom. She looks glorious with London's sparkling sights behind her. They illuminate her perfectly. She opens the door of her en-suite bathroom that's full of white marble. She stops in her tracks and looks over her left shoulder. "And when I'm back, you better be gone."
I watch her walking into her en-suite bathroom like we didn't just have the best sex of our lives. She can't be serious! She expects me to leave her place like I am some kind of one-night stand?! I sure as hell won't leave!
I can hear the shower getting turned on and decide to join her. I am not like all the other men she bedded before me. I get up from the most comfortable bed I've ever laid on and walk into the bathroom. I stop in the doorway, totally stunned by her bathroom that's easily bigger than the flat I share with Finn in Notting Hill. There's light grey marble everywhere. The walls are painted in a light grey that's almost white. In the middle of the massive bathroom is an ottoman in white. A huge bathtub is standing in front of the floor to ceiling windows that are offering a view of glittering London at night. A double vanity is on the other side of the bathroom and at the end is the biggest shower I could imagine. Three out of the four walls are made out of marble while the fourth wall is made of glass, showing me the coldest and hottest woman on earth. She has the perfect hourglass figure with a perky ass and full tits. Her long chestnut hair sticks to her back as the water is rushing out of the rain shower head that'a installed in the ceiling. I watch the water dripping down her nipples and that firm ass.
She's breathtaking.
I open the door of the shower and step inside. The air is cool and not warm and humid as I predicted it to be. I didn't expect her to shower cold. Surprisingly, the temperature doesn't stop my affection. My cock is hard within a blink of an eye.
I wrap my arms around her from behind and pull her closer to me until I feel her back against my chest and my cock rubs between her ass cheeks. I rest my my chin on her left shoulder. "I'm not like all the other men that have been here. I won't leave you."
She wraps her hands around my forearms that press against her tits, "There hasn't been anyone here. You're the first." She whispers back.
I have no idea what to do with this information. "Why are you showering with cold water?" I ask her.
She opens up my arms with levity and turns around. Then she wraps her arms around my neck and leans forward until our foreheads touch. The tingling sensations start immediately again. It's like little sparks at first but they quickly gain intensity until it's a burning inferno. "Because you've set me on fire." She whispers against my lips. "I've got a fever, I'm light in my head. I've been burning up since we met, Oliver. And the only man who can put out that fire is you..."
Holy shit, those words go straight to my heart. "Josephine..."
"Put out that fire." She begs me with trembling lips.
I kiss her softly, feeling her plump lips that I've already gotten addicted to. She kisses me back, allowing our tongues to continue with their sensual rumba. "I can't..." I whisper back, cupping her face. "Because I've been burning up for you, too."
"And where do we go from here?"
"Where ever you want." I promise her. I'd follow her everywhere. I pull on one of the taps to make the water warm but to my surprise the built in body splashes suddenly splash icy cold water from the sides to us.
Josephine erupts in the most beautiful laughter I've ever heard. It makes my heart burst inside my chest. "That was the wrong tap." She tells me with a grin on her lips before she guides my hand over to the right tap and slowly pulls it towards us. I can feel the water that's coming from the ceiling and the sides warming up but inside of me there's an inferno.
That's when I know.
I'm falling in love with her in this icy cold shower.
Josephine
He looks out of this world beautiful in my shower. With the water running down his ripped body, he looks better than Michelangelo's David - his package is for sure bigger. His dirty blonde hair looks darker now that it's wet and his pine green eyes glow in that sea foam colour again. That colour is addictive. Truly addictive.
He makes me want to fuck him again. And he makes me want to confess my deepest feelings. He makes me want to show him my rawest emotions without doing anything. What the hell is going on?!
I brush through his short wet hair as I get lost in his sea foam coloured eyes. I just had the best sex in my life and I already want more. My body already craves his cock so badly that my mind becomes clouded again. I thought I'd get my fix after having him once but turns out that was only a drop on a hot stone. Now, I want more... and more... so much more that I suddenly fear 14 weeks will not be enough when not even a day has gone by.
This is bad. Very, very bad.
I wasn't supposed to get addicted to him. Not now. Not ever.
And from what I see in his eyes, in his body language, he feels just the same. These 14 weeks will be hell and heaven at the same time. We will have paradise on earth while opening up hell as well.
But just like Adam who bit into the forbidden fruit, I can't seem to walk away. The seduction is too strong, the pull is too strong... the emotions are overwhelming.
"Josephine..." He whispers my name.
God, this whisper is driving me crazy. This voice... it awakes a need within me I didn't know I had.
"Oliver," I whisper back before kissing him. I can't shake him off. I can't push him away.
And I don't want to.
He returns my kiss with more force and tongue. Kissing him feels like stepping into nirvana; it's like a taste of how paradise on earth should feel like. It's a feeling like nothing before.
Within a blink of an eye he pushes me against the marble wall of my shoulder, caging me in with his delicious body. I can feel his muscular thighs against mine, his ripped abs brushing against my own and his huge cock throbbing against my pulsing clit. I don't know how it's possible to want a man even more after I've already had him but with Oliver... everything is different.
Suddenly, he lifts me and I wrap my legs around his hips and lock my ankles behind his steel hard butt. My hands travel down his head, his neck and his strong muscular back. Showering is the last thing on my mind right now.
I let go of his lips, "Fuck me."
He shows me the most beautiful grin I've ever seen. "Always." His hands move behind him until he finds my ankles. He opens my legs with ease and I wrap my arms around his neck. With one swift thrust he has shoved his whole cock inside me. A growl escapes his throat that matches my moan. I've never had a bigger man, a more skilled man... a better man than him.
He was right.
One night won't be enough.
Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it!
Do you think Jo is going to fall in love with Oliver? Is she going to end their arrangement in 14 weeks?
What do you think about Oliver's family in Rocinha? Should Oliver take Jo's offer to bring his family to London?
How will their 'arrangement' develop? Are Jo's parents going to find out about Oliver?
Please review!
In gratitude,
Nicole