Page 28 of Cream Pie

I squeeze my thighs together, and I can’t even stop myself as my hands slide over my body to cup my breasts. I tease my nipples, and gasp in pleasure as one hand slides further down, over my tummy. I spread my legs, and I moan as my fingers find my aching clit between my slick, eager lips.

Slowly, remembering the way he touched me, and tasted me, and fucked me, I start to roll my little bud. I whimper, panting in the shower spray as pleasure teases through me. I rub faster, moaning louder, before suddenly, I stop myself.

No.

No, what happened happened, but that’s it. Besides being totally off limits, Javier is clearly just another finance “bro” player. I can already picture him following that waiter back to the kitchen after our chat and his little stunt and grabbing that keycard back. He took his shot with trying to get me again, I said no, and now he’s probably fucking that brunette against her own vanity in her own bungalow, or whoever.

The thought has me seething, and instantly, and the urge for pleasure fades.

Prick, I think to myself as I finish rinsing off and shut off the water. I towel off and then wrap it around myself as I step back into the spacious bungalow. Instantly though, there’s a knock at the door, catching me by surprise.

“Well that was fast,” I say to no one as I walk over to the door, stomach growling. I tighten my towel and smile as I open the door.

“Thanks, if you can just bring it insi—fuck.”

There’s someone there with a tray of the food I ordered, but it’s not the concierge or a waitstaff.

It’s Javier.

We stare at each other, my chest rising and falling with my breath and my pulse racing.

“I—I thought you weren’t ‘that guy’ who comes to room—”

“Yeah, I lied.”

He storms into the room, and I whimper as the tray gets slid across the side table, the door gets slammed behind him, and his lips crush to mine.

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