Page 150 of Green Flag
Even when not at full capacity, she reached for my cock again and I let her stroke me until the ice must have slipped from her tongue and she got back to branding my cock with her lipstick.
29
Chapter 29
Luca
If I wanted to spend the final day of the year doing anything, it was with her in a hotel, having a lie-in as our tipsy bodies recovered with bottles of water and cuddles. And getting a massage.
Then back to cuddles.
The cushion wall was no more, as I’d wished it never to be.
And she’d snuggled right into my arms until one of them was dead. But I didn’t care.
The masseuse got all the knots out of my body and, looking over at her oily, exposed back… damn, I wanted to climb on over there and massage her myself.
Maybe that could be my excuse for getting her undressed later.
We hadn’t talked during our couples massage, though she moaned aloud a few times and it weakened my damn soul. My cock was rock solid, burrowing into the massage table. Almost painfully so.
She didn’t care for embarrassment and when she saw me widen my eyes after a particularly high-pitched, breathy noise came from deep within her throat, I was pretty sure she started the noises more frequently just to get me all riled up.
Were these things purely for the sake of getting someone ready and raring to go? Did people talk?
I didn’t know how we were meant to act. I’d never had a couples massage; in fact, I’d never had a couples anything.
And, lying there while the lady behind me dug her elbows deep into my rib cage, and the music went on and on, tinkling its little tune, I started to imagine what ‘couples’ activities would look like.
Not the filthy kind.
Couples retreats, sharing a tub of ice cream in bed, teaching her how to play StormSprint on the PlayStation, watching Netflix — and actually watching — and then I realised… we had done all those things. I wanted her in my life. His and hers sinks, his and hers mugs, a his and hers shower. Oh damn, the house I was going to go and see back in my home town… I’d get a couple of shower heads installed. If I were to buy it.
I’d also seen a nice little house an hour’s drive from Cris’s home and I shouldn’t have looked through all the photos and imagined her coming round for dinner and leaving behind her toothbrush or…
Oh no. No, no, no. That would do.
Because my cock was straining even more beneath me.
It simply was not fair that even normal things were getting me in such a state.
She wanted to snooze after our massage, and I couldn’t blame her; my body felt light and free and heavy and released all at the same time.
But when I woke up from our nap, she wasn’t there.
So, I headed to the gym and drank lots of water, as they had advised.
Everly had scrutinised the work the lady had done on me, asking if she’d touched me inappropriately at all.
That spike of jealousy gave me a shit-eating grin.
I was walking back to our room — hopeful she would be there — when my phone rang. I frowned at the Spanish area code but picked it up nonetheless.
“Luca,” a deep voice said, a northern Italian accent filling my ears. “I’ve got an update.”
I swallowed and smiled at a couple that passed me in the corridor, pressing myself into the wall. “Go on.”
“I know for a fact drugs have been carried on Ciclati flights after the dates you gave me,” he said. “From as recent as nine months ago. I’m working on finding more recent dates. And I’ve got surveillance on Cris Bacque while he’s in Florida. Nothing suspicious as of yet.”
