Overexposed

by Amelia Oliver

  I really like that she’s the kind of woman who seems to accentuate her beauty, not clog it up with layers and layers of shite on her face. I will never understand the chicks that use seven different colours of spackle on their eyelids or draw on their face with red and green shit then cover the whole lot with more shit. The whole look screams ‘fake’ to me, like they’re trying to hide something. Creating smoke and mirrors so you’ll not look too closely. And the other thing that baffles me - they all fucking end up looking the same. What is up with that? I’m a guy, so my dick sees the appeal of fake lashes, more over having them flutter as you’re drilling her hard or feeding her throat, but the need for five different tubes of lipstick to get the ‘right colour’? Bonkers. A girl’s lips are plump and shiny - we’re going to imagine them wrapped around our cock. End. Of. Story.

  Piper’s skirt hugs her curves like it was sewn on to her body, and with her arms raised up to her head as she styles her hair; her firm arse taunts me in a way that makes me groan. Hearing my groan, her eyes shift from her hair to meet mine in the mirror. Her smile is small as she greets me, not going all the way to her eyes, “Good Morning, Seth.”

  Oh Bubble, what is going on in that beautiful head of yours?

  Uncrossing my arms and pushing off the doorframe, I walk over to her and stand with my body pressing against her back. I move one arm tight across the front of her hips, pulling her to me. Letting her feel me behind her, I give my hips a slow, firm flex into her flesh, grinding slightly against her before stilling completely.

  “You, Bubble, were not in bed when I woke up.” I nip at the tendon along her neck with my lips, licking after each nip. Fuck the way she smells is incredible. I was kind of right about her smelling like the beach. I’d asked her last night what perfume she wore, and she’d told me that she didn’t wear any, but it was probably her lotion I could smell – coconut and lotus flower. I still don’t know shite about a lotus flower, but I do know smelling it on Piper makes me think of the lotus position.

  My lips coming to rest on the shell of her ear, I whisper, “I had plans for you, love. Breakfast in bed kind of plans. You were going to be my breakfast.”

  “I was?” Her voice is quiet, almost hesitant. With her eyes on mine in the mirror, I can see as well as feel that while she’s not frozen in place, she’s not allowed herself to melt into me either.

  “You were. I was very much looking forward to eating too.” I flex my hips against her again, grinding forward so my growing length bumps across the crack of her arse, not quite being able to nestle in between her cheeks due to how tight her skirt is.

  “Seth,” she tries to step out of my grasp, but I hold her tighter, “I get that last night was…”

  She yelps as I use my arm across her hip to spin her around so she’s facing me, before I use both of my hands to lift her up onto the vanity counter behind her.

  “Bubble, love…I don’t know what is going on in that gorgeous noggin of yours,” as I talk I lightly tap two fingers against her temple before leaning in and planting a quick smacking kiss to her pout, “but I think I need to maybe set a few things straight.”

  “You don’t have to Seth, I get it…”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong, love. I don’t think you do get it. I actually think what you do get is the wrong bloody end of the stick.”

  “Okaaay… so what’s the right end?”

  Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself to give her as much of my truth as I’m ready to give. It’s not that I don’t trust Piper, I do, but we’re still really only just getting to know one another after a rocky start. It’s not lost on me how lucky I am - given she could barely stand me, stand my image when we first met - that I even have her in my life at all. The last thing I want is her knowing all the details, only to result in her going back to thinking less of me again.

  “It’s been a while for me since…it’s just that after… Well, I’ve not recently been doing a whole lot of casual fucking.” I finally blurt out, as articulate as some one with a mouth full of marbles.

  I see a look pass across her face, and then it registers what I’ve said, how it would sound, and realise that I’m screwing this up, again. Get it together man!

  Lifting Piper’s slightly dipped chin with the side of my index finger, I stroke her chin with my thumb as I clarify. “You, Bubble, are not casual. You are not a hook-up, and you are not a one time thing.” I lean forward and gently kiss her full, shiny lips. Unable to help myself, I add a little lick with just the tip of my tongue across the seam of her mouth. Fuck me, coconut and Piper, it’s maddening. “Last night in the kitchen? The johnny thing? It’s just that…”

  “Seth, stop.” Piper reaches up and places her soft palm across my cheek and I lean into her touch, grounding myself in it. It’s been so long since I’ve felt grounded, let alone felt like I was truly being touched. Touched by someone real. “You don’t need to explain, I was in the moment and wanted you inside me. I understand if you don’t want to…”

  It kills me that yet again, she thinks something is about her desirability, or more accurately in her mind, a lack of. If some wanker she dated in the past had made her feel this way, I’d find him and give him a right royal bollocking.

  “Piper, no. Listen, hear me and understand something,” my voice is firm and clear. I lean forward so our foreheads are almost touching, my hands moving to rest on her hips, my long fingers across the top of her arse. If this fucking skirt she had on weren’t so bloody tight, I’d push it up her thighs and move in so I could stand between them. Piper shifts her hand from my cheek, starting to scratch her fingers through the scruff along my jaw; her beautiful eyes are glued to mine, waiting for me to continue.

  “The very thought of taking you bare, of my cock sliding into your perfect snatch and feeling, really feeling you flutter and squeeze me tight? Holy Christ, Bubble, just saying it has me ready to let a load loose.”

  “Oh my God…Seth…” she says her voice breathy and I don’t miss the fact that she’s wiggling to squeeze her thighs together. Or that those ridiculous triangles of lace she calls a bra are doing sweet feck all to hide the tight little buds I know for a fact are as sensitive as her clit.

  “I mean it, Piper,” my own breathing deeper, my voice huskier, “the thought of having you bare makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. Not to sound like a ponce or anything, but I’m just not…ready? I guess? It certainly doesn’t mean that I don’t want you, and it doesn’t imply that you don’t mean anything to me. I’m just not…there yet. Can you be ok with that? For now?”

  Pulling my hands from her hips, I place them on either side of her face. My thumbs are stroking along her cheeks, and her eyes flutter like she wants to close them but doesn’t want to break away from looking at me either, causing her to look almost drunk on me. She’s so lovely, so soft and delicately feminine, how she doubts her beauty is ridiculous, but she’s also feisty, and strong and real. The combination is sexy as fuck.

  Holding her eyes with my own, I’m aware I’m holding my breath. I didn’t even consider what would happen if Piper says no. If she says that last night was a mistake and that it wouldn’t happen again. So focused on finding her, on making sure she understood where I was at with what had happened last night, these thoughts didn’t even enter my mind. Well, they bloody have now, that’s for sure.

  Piper looks at me as though she’s seeing things others wouldn’t bother to take the time to find; in a friend, or in a lover. It does something to my chest, something I’ve never felt before. Finally, I see she’s made a decision, and a small smile of understanding lifts at the corners of her lips. It’s her this time that leans forward and takes my lips in a simple yet intimate kiss.

  “Yes, Seth, I’m ok with that. For now.”

  The shy smile I give her is nothing like the wide Cheshire grin I feel inside. When I woke this morning, and she wasn’t there…fuck. Based on how I reacted, how I’d felt last night even, I need to keep my shit in
check. An all in, balls to the wall philosophy is great when you don’t give a fuck about consequences. But whatever this is between us, it’s happening hard and fast, and there are consequences out the arse.

  “I do have one question though,” she looks so serious, I’m glad I held back.

  I brace myself for whatever is about to come out of her mouth, “Right then, out with it.” I tell her.

  “You’re so…British, Seth. What the hell is a ‘snatch’? And johnny? Actually, I’m guessing that last one means condom, because it wasn’t Johnny in the kitchen dicking my brains out. But honestly, sometimes it’s like you’re speaking another language.”

  When I laugh it’s tinged with amusement, relief and a hint of teasing. “I am speaking another language, love. We call it English. You bloody Americans have been butchering it to death ever since you dumped perfectly good tea into the harbour. I’ll tell you what though, just for you, I’ll give you a full instructional tutorial. Teach you all about snatches and johnny’s. Hands on of course, no one learns anything fun by sticking to theory.” I add a wink for good measure, watching as her smile changes to a giggle.

  Lifting her off of the counter, I scoop her into my arms. As I walk us out of the bathroom and throw her on to her bed, I growl, “This tight fucking skirt is a cock-blocking mongrel bastard and must come off immediately. It’s clearly meant to drive a man insane, and I’ve have had about enough.”

  Bubble just throws her head back and laughs. Bet she won’t be laughing in a minute when my face is in her snatch or later when I rip off the johnny and splash hot spunk across the delicious cheeks of her arse.

  * * *

  The next few days go by in a blur. Between the press release about me being in anger management, and me resigning from the show, the media spin was in full force. Piper arranged for me to do a selected number of what she called ‘controlled interviews’. She’s kept a tight little fist around the questions they asked, the supporting footage they used and the editing they’d done to the overall package. Even if they agreed to all of those things up front, she would only let the interview go ahead if we had signed off on the package before it went to air. If we didn’t like it, we could pull it and there was no recourse. One of Piper’s big-wig bosses, Devon, the same one who was Rash’s mate, was also a lawyer, so all the contract shite was tighter than a goldfish’s arse. If the media went ahead and slipped in a hatchet job in behind our backs, the amount I could sue them for was staggering.

  A few of the shows balked at all the conditions, and a few more refused to agree and passed all together, but the key players in town had agreed. I’m not under any illusion that this happened because they’d wanted to do an exclusive story on me, but was more the fact that Piper’s reputation really packed some weight in the industry. ESM were not to be fucked with, and people seemed to know it. How much I owed Rash for bringing Piper in, and how my stupidity had nearly blown it, still gives me little moments of reflection. It occurs to me that I must be paying ESM a sodding fortune, but from what I’ve seen so far, it’s been worth every cent.

  Somehow, Piper and I have found a ‘business us’ versus ‘personal us’ balance that’s working, so far at least. I more than like having her here with me, and Piper has only gone back to her place to get more clothes. Feisty as she is, I’m assuming if she had concerns she’d tell me about them. She sure as shite is not shy about telling me how to run my career. We’ve still clashed a few times in this area, I feel she gets bossy and oversteps her boundaries, and she thinks I have my head up my arse. The truth is, we are probably both right.

  As for my so-called ‘anger management’, Piper had pulled one over on me on our way back to the house after a morning surfing. Telling me she wanted to stop in at the home of a friend in Malibu to have a quick bite of breakfast, she’d invited me along. She’d told me that if I didn’t want to come with her, she’d drop me at her apartment first. Like I was going to give up spending time with her, and she’d bloody known it too.

  In fact, she’d been counting on it.

  Too late after agreeing to come along, I’d realised that the cheeky minx had manipulated me into having breakfast with her friend all right, her friend the bloody psychologist.

  You don’t think we didn’t get into it after that little escapade? Christ. Arguing with Piper, and the way she continued to push me to face shite I’d been ignoring for years, made me respect the hell out of her. It also made my dick hard.

  I was becoming addicted to the bossy little tyrant, and as such, three mornings a week after surfing, we went to Malibu for ‘breakfast’. Read: therapy. After fruit and pastries, coffee or tea, Piper would stay at the kitchen table and work on setting up her day, while Joan and I would sit out on the deck and ‘talk’.

  Not that I’m ready to admit this to Piper, but I’m starting to get a lot out of my time with Joan. It’s early days, but I feel better about shit that’d been getting to me and I’m beginning to look at a few things that have happened in my life with a clearer filter.

  As the weekend rolled around, I asked Jackie to set us up with some pre-made dishes - so we didn’t starve, and gave her the weekend off. Even though Piper told me it wasn’t necessary, that she could cook for us over the weekend, I’d pointed out to her that she wouldn’t have the energy left to cook. She laughed at the time, but now that it’s Sunday and I’ve sexed her up in every single room of the place at least once, she thinks Jackie’s meals were an inspired idea.

  See what can happen little control freak when you let some one look after you for a change?

  Now we’re lying wrapped around each other on the daybed out by the pool. Warm in the L.A. sun, we’re resting after we’ve just had each other in our mouths – aka the outdoor sixty-nine – when a reminder alert dings on my phone. I know instantly what it is, and for a minute I consider skipping out. I’ve already skipped out the past two weeks, but I’m not sure I want to again today. While the idea of leaving the tranquility of this weekend is not overly appealing, I know I’ll feel worse later if I don’t go.

  Brushing my fingers along Piper’s cheek where it rests on my chest, I figure if she’s cool with the idea, I’ll go.

  “Bubble, you awake, love?”

  “No. I’m not kidding Seth, I think you’ve broken my vagina. Remind me to buy an ‘out of order’ sign. I’d hang it from the skin of my clit, but I’m not sure I have any left,” she mumbles into my chest, kissing the spot closest to her lips.

  I bark out a laugh, because she’s been just as insatiable as I am. Put it this way, if I wasn’t already circumcised, I sure as shite would be now. I’ve never had a lover work my dick the way Piper does, as good as she does. Her pussy is just as bossy as she is, always greedy and tight and demanding, and it owns every single time.

  Kissing the top of her head I call her out on her shite. “We both know that’s a lot of hairy bollocks, Piper. I can feel your nipples against me, love, and they’re like little blunt spears. The moment I spoke to you, and woke you up, they woke up too.”

  Removing my arm from across her shoulders, I run my hand down her spine and into the back of her bikini bottoms. Dirty little thing pushes her hips back, making it easier for me to reach my target. Broken, my arse.

  “Now, my guess is if I let my fingers wander down a little further to…Oh, would you look at that… wetter than a London winter.”

  As I take my fingers from her pussy, I curl them, collecting evidence of her arousal as they withdraw. Licking my fingers as she watches, I see the telltale blush fan across her cheeks at what I’m doing, but knowing she doesn’t look away does something to me. Leaning down I plant my lips across hers, slowly using my tongue to share her flavour, before deepening our kiss into one I feel in my balls. Begrudgingly, I pull away when a second alert dings and I remember what I’d woken her for in the first place.

  With out missing a beat, Piper sassily defends her reaction to me. It’s also not a new argument.

  “I keep telli
ng you, Seth, it’s A.A.R. Automatic Accent Response. You can’t take my chick bits reactions as a sign of anything.”

  “Sure it is, Bubble, you keep telling yourself that.”

  Shifting into more of a sitting position, I bring Piper up with me, raising her face to mine with my hand. “There’s something I usually do on a Sunday afternoon. I haven’t for the past few weeks, what with lock down and all, so it’s not big deal if I skip it again - but I’d like to go. I’d also really like if you’d come with me?”

  “You’re not tricking me into therapy are you?” she smiles, clearly suspicious from my lack of detail that it’s some kind of payback.

  “Well, there are tricks and it is therapeutic… but no, not like you’re thinking. So, what do you say?”

  CHAPTER 11

  Piper

  I was shocked and yet not when Seth had taken me to a skate park that afternoon. And because it’s part of his usual routine, a part of him, I’ve tried to make it as many Sunday’s as I can since. My work sometimes gets in the way, like when I need to fly somewhere on a Sunday for a meeting early Monday, but I know it means something to Seth when I can be there.

  Sleeping with him and sharing the intimacy of a lover, opened him up to me in so many ways, blowing away all the thoughts and feelings I’d first felt about him. He was nothing like the press and public saw or portrayed him as. Of course he had a temper and easily flared up, but he also diffused quickly. Yes, therapy helped with that, but I also just got the sense that that’s how he was. He was one hundred percent about everything. Passionate and in love with the things he really enjoyed.