International Player

by Louise Bay

  “Like this?” I inched my way deeper into her.

  She nodded, grabbing at my hips.

  I took her hands from me, clasping them in mine and pushing them over her head and thrusting into her.

  She was tight and perfect and all mine.

  “Oh God,” she moaned around me and surrendered, as her thoughts focused on this moment rather than whatever she’d been doing today or had planned for tomorrow. The moment became about pleasure. About us. And there was nothing better.

  The heat and the drag of her was so perfect that I couldn’t imagine I’d ever want anything else. Not in thirty minutes, not tomorrow. Not ever. I’d always want to feel exactly like this.

  She twisted underneath me and widened her legs, trying to get me deeper, closer. I glanced down at where we were joined.

  The drumbeat coming from the record player, her moans, the sound of my flesh against hers, built and built and built until it all merged into one perfect moment.

  I couldn’t hold back. Not for a moment longer.

  “Truly,” I called out.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she panted, and I covered my mouth with hers, hot and wet and honest as she tensed underneath me. My release ran through my veins as we came together, our pulses connected and sharing the same beat as the music.

  “Shit, Truly,” I said when my mouth reconnected to my brain. It was as if I’d just come round after being knocked unconscious.

  She pressed her fingers against the pulse in my neck. “That was . . .”

  I was collapsed over her, but I wasn’t sure if I could move. “It certainly was.” I shifted off then scooped her up, my weak limbs somehow finding the strength.

  I wasn’t done, but I needed to lay her out and take my time with her.

  I headed to the bedroom and put her down on the bed, but when I moved away to get some water, she clung to my arm. “You need to rehydrate.”

  “Don’t be long.” She scowled but loosened her grip.

  I grinned and darted into the kitchen to collect glasses and a bottle of water. I liked that she didn’t want me gone for even a few seconds. I understood it. There was some tie between us that I’d never felt with anyone before.

  “You see? Five seconds. Ten max.” I stopped in the doorway. Truly was gone. “Hey, where did you go?” I set the water on the bedside table.

  She wandered back into the bedroom. “I had to pee.” The girl was far less self-conscious naked than she was in a ball gown.

  “Come here.” I grabbed her ass and pulled her against me, pressing soft kisses down her neck and along her shoulder as my cock jerked between us. How was I ready for her again? She had some kind of override switch on my libido that I never knew existed.

  “Your kisses,” she said with a sigh.

  I pulled back, waiting for her to finish her sentence.

  She curled her fingers around my neck. “They’re just perfect.” She shook her head as if she’d just told me it was set to rain for the next ten days straight or that Stranger Things had been cancelled.

  “You’re perfect.”

  “Don’t say that.” She stood on tiptoes and pulled me closer, pressing her lips to mine, her tongue trailing against my lips.

  I groaned and tipped us both onto the bed. I tangled my limbs with hers as I skirted my hands up and down her body, touching every inch, exploring every dip and curve.

  As I slid my palms up her inner thigh, Truly shifted and reached for my cock. “Having you in my mouth gets me hot,” she whispered, her heavy breath coating my cock. “Do you think that’s weird?” she asked, then licked up the length of my dick.

  I groaned, straining to keep my hips on the bed.

  “I think it’s a little odd that getting you hard gets me so wet,” she said.

  “Jesus, Truly.” Her words were as much of a turn-on as her mouth—it was almost too much.

  She rearranged herself so she straddled me, and I could see exactly what her filthy mouth was doing.

  Her fist at my base, she circled my crown with her tongue then paused. “I think it’s because it’s so perfectly straight and thick. Like velvet and steel mixed together,” she said as if she was trying to figure out the formula.

  I was way past why and had raced forward to I want your mouth on me. I was done with analysis, and I just wanted to feel. To enjoy her wet, hot lips.

  She swept her free hand up my chest then slowly began to take me deep, deep, deep.

  Shit. I gripped the sheets and closed my eyes, fighting the urge to push up into her throat, wanting to feel her gag and watch her eyes water. She pulled back, the scrape of her teeth dampening down my climax.

  “I love feeling you like this,” she said, her head bobbing back down as she took me deep.

  She continued to lick and suck, setting off sparks along my skin, heating my blood and driving me wild. I just couldn’t get enough. But I wanted to see exactly how turned on she was, sucking me off like it was her job. I sat up, and she pulled back before I caught her and dragged her back to the mattress, capturing her legs in mine and sweeping my hand between them.

  She was as wet as the fucking ocean, her clit swollen and hard. I grunted as I circled her nub with the pad of my thumb.

  “You didn’t believe me?” she whispered. “You must know what you do to me.” Her eyebrows pinched together as I trailed wet fingers over her nipples, pushed her to her back, and sucked them clean.

  She sighed, pulling her legs wide as I dipped down to my favorite spot at the bottom of her neck. Flinging her arm out, she lazily tried to wrestle the bedside-table drawer open. I pressed another kiss to the inside of her elbow, then took over finding a condom.

  As soon as I was covered, I thrust into her as deep as I could go, and she screamed so loud she could drown out Big Ben.

  “You like that?” I asked, pulling out and ramming into her again. We’d played around enough. I needed to get to the top of that mountain. I had to fuck, and I knew this is what she wanted, too.

  “Don’t stop.”

  “Never,” I snapped. “I’m never going to stop fucking you.” Already she’d stolen my breath, my thoughts, my mind, and I was totally focused on getting us both to the top.

  She trembled underneath me, her loud moans turning to dull whimpers as if she’d given in. Her fingernails dug into the tops of my shoulders, and her knees clenched against my hips as sweat trickled down my spine. Waiting for that moment where bliss crashed over her face, I wanted this buildup to last forever, and I wanted to make her come right this second. With Truly, I wanted everything.

  She choked out my name, and her body tensed and shuddered as I cried out and thrust in one more time, giving in to the fucking perfection that was Truly Harbury.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Truly

  I might not want to be here, but I knew dating was the right thing to do. The night Noah came round and we’d listened to U2, sex wasn’t the right description for what happened. It was more than that. An intimacy had ballooned between us that night.

  And it scared the shit out of me.

  I’d left Rob and Abigail’s determined to build some walls, retain some distance, but as soon as I’d seen Noah, I’d been unable to do anything but put down my tools and surrender completely.

  But I wasn’t a quitter. I just needed to get back on track. Which was why I was in the bathroom at an expensive Thai restaurant in Mayfair. If I couldn’t build walls, maybe I could water down the concentrate of Noah’s attention. Like Abigail had said, I just needed to see what was out there, spread my focus.

  I checked the time on my phone. Okay, so now I was on time instead of my usual ten minutes early. I could leave the bathroom and meet my date for the evening. I didn’t believe being late was fashionable. Just rude. And if James was late, then I’d leave. I couldn’t be with a man who wasn’t on time; it would drive me crazy. No, wait. I was trying to give people a chance. I’d wait ten minutes and then leave.

  I wiped under my eyes, removing
any stray eyeliner, then slipped my phone into my bag and headed back to the hostess table.

  “Miss Harbury,” she said, “the other party has arrived. Let me show you to your table.”

  Oh, so he was here. Stupidly, part of me was disappointed. If he’d been late I’d have had the perfect excuse to go home and finish the book I was currently reading. I should be pleased. This could be the start of something.

  James and I caught each other’s eye across the restaurant, and I smiled despite myself. He was just as handsome as he’d looked in his profile pictures. And he hadn’t lied about his height. At five ten, he was shorter than Noah, but not short.

  He swept his hand through his hair as the hostess showed me to the table, then pushed his thick-framed glasses back on his nose before greeting me. His glasses were cute on him. Noah didn’t wear glasses but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be cute, right?

  “Truly,” he said, awkwardly greeting me with a kiss. “You’re . . . I mean. I like . . .” He cleared his throat. “You look very pretty.”

  A blush crept over his cheeks, and he took half a step toward me as if he was going to help me sit.

  “Thank you,” I replied, quickly taking a seat so we didn’t have to do the awkward chair thing.

  He nodded and took a seat opposite me. “I ordered two glasses of champagne. I hope that’s okay.” He had full lips, and his hair was longer than I’d seen in the photographs, but it didn’t look like a style he’d chosen, more that he hadn’t gotten around to having it cut. He had nice white teeth and kind eyes.

  I smiled and began to relax, silently congratulating myself for not deciding he wasn’t right for me in the first ten seconds. I was officially dating. “That sounds wonderful. Have you come straight from work?”

  “Well, sort of. I work from home. So yes and no. You?” We’d had a few emails and I remembered he was in IT, but I couldn’t recall him saying exactly what he did.

  “Yes. From the office.”

  “You said you worked for a charity. That must be rewarding.”

  The waitress delivered our menus and talked us through the specials. Throughout, she had James’s full attention. He focused on what she was saying as if he were going to be tested afterward and losing would see him a contestant in the Hunger Games. It was kinda adorable, and I didn’t think about Noah at all for at least a full two minutes.

  “That was a lot of information,” he whispered, leaning across the table. “Did you decide? We could do that sharing platter she suggested?”

  I shrugged. I hadn’t really been focusing on what she was saying. I was more taking in how James reacted to her. “Sounds great.”

  He was considerate and thoughtful and not too passive. So far so good.

  He beckoned the waitress back over, ordered for us, then turned his attention back to me. “Sorry, we were talking about your work.”

  He seemed genuinely interested, and given the foundation was such a huge part of my life, it was reassuring. Noah had always understood the importance of my work, probably because his own goals and achievements were such a big part of his life.

  “It’s rewarding. Tiring sometimes. There’s always more to do, but yes, I get real satisfaction from what I do. What about you? Do you love your job?”

  A grin spread across his face. “I really do. Cyber security. It sounds like a nothing job, right? But I do a lot of bespoke systems for high net worth individuals and companies. It means I do a lot of testing and that’s the fun bit. It’s like being a cybercriminal without doing anything wrong. I’m constantly trying to break into my own clients’ networks.” His voice dropped as if he were trying to conceal what he was saying. He was clearly passionate about what he did. That was attractive, I told myself. Something I also found attractive about Noah.

  “Sounds like something from a spy film,” I said.

  “You know, I shouldn’t say it, but I swear watching those films gave me career advice. It looked so cool when I was twelve or thirteen—outsmarting the CIA or stealing people’s identities. That’s when I found what I wanted to do.”

  I laughed. “Are you working for the CIA?”

  He grinned. “I wouldn’t tell you if I was, would I?” He glanced up as our drinks were delivered. “But seriously, I do some government work. The pay is terrible and their systems . . .” He shook his head. “I do it because I don’t want national security compromised. Not for the money. Or the challenge.”

  “So you’re like a nerdy James Bond.”

  “I like that idea,” he said, his smile widening.

  I liked a man who owned his geekdom. Noah wasn’t a geek but he didn’t seem to mind my geek-like tendencies. Someone like James, who no doubt had his own stash of comic-book t-shirts, was probably far more suited to me.

  “And how are you finding internet dating? Have you been doing it long?” he asked.

  I shook my head as our food arrived and the waiter explained what everything was. “No, actually this is my first date.”

  “Interesting. I imagine men are hitting on you night and day.”

  I grinned. “Not even a little bit. But you’ve been doing the online thing for a while?”

  “On and off, you know? Up until last year, I was in a five-year relationship.”

  “Five years is a long time.” I was pretty sure that previous relationship talk wasn’t first date conversation material, but five years was more than many marriages.

  “It is. And no one believes me but there was no big argument. No major stumbling blocks. Just two people who decided they wanted different things and fell out of love. She gave up her job in HR and is a ski instructor in Verbier now. I went over with a group of friends over New Year. We’re still friends.” He grinned.

  “Wow. That seems unnervingly healthy.”

  “I know, right? And now I’m sitting here with you.”

  I giggled. He was cute. More confident than I’d first thought and although he started off handsome, he seemed to get better looking as the evening went on, despite me only drinking half a glass of champagne.

  We disagreed over books. He liked Hunter S. Thompson while I preferred something a little more real like Jane Austen or Charlotte Bronte.

  We agreed on The Last Jedi—we settled on a score of seven out of ten.

  After we both decided that neither of us wanted pudding, we wandered out onto the pavement, and I was a little unsure about what was next.

  “I had a really good time tonight,” he said.

  It felt good to hear that from someone who seemed like such a great guy. A great guy who wasn’t Noah. “Me too,” I replied.

  “I think you’re beautiful and interesting and I want to do this again.”

  My stomach didn’t quite do a somersault, but there was definitely movement. “That would be really nice,” I said.

  He caught my hand as I tucked my hair behind my ear, and skimmed his thumb over my knuckles before placing a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll try to hold off on calling you until tomorrow, but I’m going to hold you to a second date.” He held his arm out to flag down a passing cab.

  As I climbed into the cab, I couldn’t fight the surprising sense of relief that swept through me that he’d kissed my cheek and hadn’t tried anything else. I liked him. He was sweet and good-looking. We had things in common, and I’d enjoyed my evening with him. He was thoughtful and charming enough without it being cheesy. In any number of ways he was far more suitable for me than Noah would ever be.

  But he still wasn’t Noah.

  I wasn’t blanketed in goosebumps when he smiled. I didn’t melt when he touched me. I didn’t want him like I longed for Noah.

  I turned to face the back window as the cab pulled away, and I waved at James, who was standing in the street waving back at me.

  And at that moment, I knew that kissing someone who wasn’t Noah wasn’t an option. Which only told me that kissing someone who wasn’t Noah was exactly what I should be doing. Despite knowing it was what was best, it s
till felt wrong. Nothing but being with Noah felt right.

  TWENTY-NINE

  Noah

  While falling solo from twelve thousand feet, I should have been concentrating on something other than Truly Harbury. But she was all I could think about. I took a seat on the changing-room bench, trying to figure out what this girl had done to me.

  “You okay?” Michael, my instructor, came into the room, unzipping his overalls.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Was it anti-climactic? You handled that like a pro.” This last jump that I’d just completed was the end of the Free Fall course, and I was now qualified to skydive on my own.

  “Are you going to join the club?” he asked.

  I shook my head. It had never been my intention to take skydiving up as a hobby. I wanted to complete the course, get certified. That’s all I’d focused on. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “What made you take the course?”

  “The challenge,” I said.

  “So you didn’t enjoy it?” Michael asked.

  I pulled on my trainers and began to lace them up. “Yeah. The peace up there? The views. It’s incredible.”

  “Exactly. That’s why we all do it. The feeling of freedom. The private views. So, why not join the club?”

  I had loved it. But I saw no point in continuing it. I’d experienced it. I knew I could do it. Why keep doing it? “I think I like the sense of accomplishment. And if I joined the club I’d risk getting bored. Walking away now means the memories will always stay fresh.”

  “Wow,” Michael said, pulling on his jeans. “That’s brutal, mate. So you never keep doing anything you like to do too much in case you stop liking it? Shit, when did you give up sex?” He laughed.

  He’d got it wrong. It wasn’t that I stopped doing things I liked doing in case I lost interest. More that my interest was getting good at things—the fight, the challenge. The enjoyment for me was in the journey. Once I knew I could do something, I didn’t see the point anymore. I never got bored with sex, although I was never with a woman for long enough . . . Shit. Did I apply this philosophy to my sex life too? Was that the reason things with women never lasted long? And how did Truly fit into all this?