Page 38 of London's Calling: Part 1
“Roni! Roni! What the fuck? Let me in,” I shout, banging both fists on the door.
Realising she’s not going to let me in and now the urgency has eased, my brain begins to work rationally. Short of heading back to my apartment and finding a screwdriver, if I even have one, and removing the hinges, which is a little extreme, my only other option is a classic movie trick. I dig out a piece of paper from the box with the discarded glass, then look for something I can poke through the keyhole.
Coat hanger.
I’ve never been more grateful for a wire coat hanger. Discarding the jacket, I bend the hook straight, then slide the piece of paper under the door below the keyhole. Slotting the wire into the keyhole, and with a gently push, the key falls to the floor with a clunk. Two minutes later, I’m crashing into the ensuite.
I expected my rude and abrupt interruption to be met with fright, a scream, something. But not in my wildest imagination did I expect to find Roni—a naked, wet Roni—leaning against the tiled wall, water raining down on her, casually waiting there.
“Took you longer enough,” she taunts, pushing away from the wall and stepping to the shower door, raising her arms and hanging onto the frame above. “And here I was thinking you were smart.”
My eyes lower, taking in her body as a bead of water rolls between her breasts down to her navel. It’s damn hard trying to not see the bruise on her left side, but it’s impossible to not allow my anger at the mark on her skin get the better of me.
A hand on my face snaps my eyes back to hers. “Hey, I’m okay.” Her eyes scan my face, imploring me to believe her. “Now, are you going to join me or do I need to shower alone?” As she steps back from the door, she trails her finger down my cheek and over my lips.
With an offer like that on the table, it would be rude not to. Right?
I’m going with that and begin stripping out of my clothes, stepping in alongside her a minute later.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Mickey
Roni drops onto the bed beside me, and I try to catch my breath. I’m insatiable for this woman. It’s late afternoon, and I’ve just fucked her for the second time, yet my dick is semi hard and preparing for the next round.
I tuck an arm behind my head as Roni rolls to her side and runs her fingertips up my torso, and I glance down at her. Her lips are kiss-swollen, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded.
“You okay,” I ask, running the back of my fingers along her cheek.
“Yeah, but I’m starving,” she drawls, mischief in her eyes as she circles my nipple with her fingernail.
“Oh really,” I tease, rolling her over and covering her body with mine. I take her lips, tasting her, us, and my dick hardens instantly.
She smacks my arm and breaks the kiss. “No, you fucking nymph. I mean actual food, sustenance.”
I lean in and bite her lip, sucking it into my mouth before releasing it with a pop. “Hmm, I know what you meant. If I feed you, does that mean I get to taste more of you later?”
Her mouth slants to the side. “Maybe. Feed me and find out.” She taps my chest, indicating for me to get off her, which I do. She gets to her feet, still naked, and I watch as she bends over in front of me, giving me a clear view of that sweet pussy of hers, glistening with my cum and her own juices.
I groan, and she looks over her shoulder to me. “You are killing me right now!”
She laughs as she pulls on a robe, tying the belt loosely around her, and I swing my legs off the bed and get up. Before she can take a step, I hook an arm around her waist, pulling her back against my chest.
Tilting my hips, I whisper, “Feel that?” She moans, letting me know she can feel my cock pressing into her arse. “Good, keep that in mind while you eat. Think of it as a taste of what happens after I’ve fed you.”
Her hand snakes up and around my neck, caressing the back of my neck with her fingers, and she turns her face up and to the side, kissing me. “Hurry up and feed me then because I’m craving more than a taste.” She kisses me again before pulling away, and I let her go, willingly, somewhat.
If I could keep her wrapped in my arms all day, naked and ready for me, then I would. The thought hits me full force, and I wait for the impending desire to run the other way. But it doesn’t materialise.
I pull on my boxers and follow her downstairs to the kitchen. My eyes watch her hips swaying in front of me, but my mind is somewhere else entirely.
My father’s words come back to me, “Be careful with her, Mickey. The apple never falls far from the tree, son.”, but I feel his words are useless. Kind of like opening the door after the horse has bolted.
I’m falling for her.
“Hello! Mickey.” Something flashes in front of me, and I’m snapped from my thoughts to find Roni waving her hand. “Were you looking at my arse, Mickey Rawlins?” she asks, tilting her head and smiling wide.
“Me? No, of course not,” I say, feigning offence. “Come on, what are we eating,” I ask, spinning her around and shuffling her along from behind.
