Page 36 of Cream Pie

Chapter 10

Javier

I’m smiling.Shit, I’m smiling like I haven’t smiled in years. I mean, can you blame me?

I’ve just left Amy’s bungalow—probably a bit later in the morning than is safe, considering the circumstances, but we were... well, delayed in our goodbyes.

...That’s code for “I fucked her into her mattress through three orgasms before taking her from behind once more in the shower until we both came hard enough to almost pass the fuck out”.

Oh, right, and then there was that one last time on the floor right before I had to run out. I grin, looking up at the tropical sun and taking a deep breath.

Yeah, she’s in deep. Like, really, really deep. Deeper than I’ve ever let a woman in, maybe. This started as strangers, as a one-time-thing. Then we found out the truth of who we are. Maybe it should have stopped there, but it damn well didn’t. And now?

Now there’s no way I’m walking away from it, come what may.

We’re leaving Thailand today, but I know there’s no damn way it’s ending here. And so does she.

I take another big breath of air, grinning and closing my eyes as I look up into the morning sky.

“Well well well!”

Fuck.

I’m yanked out of my reverie and my wandering thoughts of everything I felt last night with Amy in my arms by the sound of my buddy Max’s voice.

Max, also a guest at the wedding, used to work for Marshall, but set out to open his own fund—under Marshall’s tutelage and blessing, that is. He’s not really a competitor, more like a satellite branch of Bane Financial, since Marshall shares data with him in exchange for a small percentage of profits.

Works well for everyone.

I blink and open my eyes to glance at my blond buddy. I laugh and shake my head at his bare chest, swim trunks, and flip flops.

“Shit, I thought the strippers were just for the bachelor party.”

He rolls his eyes, and I laugh.

“How’s flexing the guns working for you, Thor. You in the Avengers yet?”

Max sighs. “I was swimming, relax.” he arches a brow. “And are you seriously about to bust my chops on dress code? Dude, you’re still wearing your fucking tux.”

Shit.

He’s not wrong. Sure, I’ve got my jacket over one shoulder, my tie stuffed into my pocket, and my shirt half-unbuttoned. But it’s pretty fucking obvious I’m not just out for a morning stroll to breakfast.

Max grins.

“Guess you found some fun last night, huh?”

My brow furrows, and my jaw tightens.

“Leave it,” I growl. Max chuckles.

“Hey, easy, bud,” he grins and holds his hands up. “Relax, just making the obvious point. If it was that bad, maybe you should have snuck out earlier.”

I frown deeper. “I wasn’t sneaking—fuck it, forget it.”

He looks like he wants do the exact opposite of that, but when I glare at him again, he backs down.

“Alright, alright. Fine. I’ll just have to find your diary and read about it later.”

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