by K. L. Jessop
“Probably because I am.” I nod to her little tray of flavoured treats. “What’s your favourite?”
“Raspberry will always be my number one, but I’m liking the pineapple and mango the best from today.”
“You and your strange taste buds for that yellow shit.” Pineapple is vile. I’ve said this from the very day she had it placed on the damn pizza.
“So where are we going next?” she asks..
As Pepper isn’t all too keen on the underground, we’d jumped in a taxi to Covent Garden as she wanted me to see the beauty through her eyes. And she never failed. The moment we head to Apple market and the crowd began to gather, my heart started to race. But it was Pepper’s body pressed against me and her words of encouragement that calmed me. Once my apprehension passed and we slowly made our way through the market at our own pace, from that second on, I began to see the love that Pepper has for London. The way her eyes twinkled after she’d tasted the Paella being served to the public made me smile. The way her breath caught in her throat when she saw the window display of the boutique shop had me love it too. The way her body swayed and her eyes closed to the Violin music being played to those that shopped had my heart racing with the way it made me feel watching her. In that moment, she made me see what I’ve been missing when it comes to this city. A place filled with an array of warmth that makes you feel at home, even when it’s the opposite of what you may be used to.
“I thought we could make our way back towards home but take a little detour on the way. Unless you want to go anywhere else?”
“No, I’m good.”
“You happy to walk back to mine?”
“Sure. Here.” It’s now her turn to provide me with her share of macaroons. Opening my mouth, I scoop a small piece off her fork and suddenly wish I hadn’t when the vile flavours hit my senses.
“What the fuck is this?”
She giggles. “Black coffee and mustard. You like?”
“I think my mouth just died.”
Wanting revenge, I take my fork and cut one of mine in half and hide my grin with the flavour I’ve chosen. Banana. When she opens her mouth and takes a bite, her eyes widen in horror and I burst out laughing.
“Do you like that one?”
“You’re an arsehole,” she mumbles, covering her mouth as she chews the macaroon down quickly. “When did you sneak that one in?”
“When you weren’t looking.”
“That’s just nasty.”
“And so was the black coffee and mustard. So we are equal.”
After I’ve finished eating, I get up from the table to collect my bag that’s on the back of my chair. Pepper oblivious to the fact I’ve moved as she’s currently sat with her eyes close devouring her confectionary like she’s never tasted it before. I clear my throat. “When you’re ready, Little Blue.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” she says with a mouthful. “I want to eat my body weight in these beauties. They are just too good.”
“Your sweet tooth is ridiculous. You should be feeling sick already.”
She stands. “But they are so good. Couldn’t you just eat them all though?”
“Yes. However, I also know when I’ve had enough.”
She places her bag on her shoulder and strolls past me. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re prodding me with your dick later.”
“Wait. I’ll never get enough of that. Not as long as you’re around anyway.”
“I thought as much. So, man of many mysteries, where are we headed now?”
“I thought we could start our way back to my place, pick up the lock trail as we go and walk along the river. I’m done with people for the day.” I’ve excelled myself with my achievements today. It’s not been much in the way of adventure, but it’s got me out and further into the city than I’ve done in a long time, and it’s all thanks to Pepper for helping me through it.
Our stroll home is filled with nothing but laughter and silly talk and Pepper tried her hardest to get me to skip my way down the riverside. At times, we stop and share our thoughts on the graffiti works that are sprayed on buildings or benches, and I explain what they resemble or talk of the person who has created them if I know of them. Most of the designs are trademarks and symbols, but occasionally we come across a spectacular piece that we just have to stop and admire because it is too out of the ordinary, hidden from the city and facing the wrong side of the canal.
As I lead us further in towards Camden, we get to the building I have in mind. I let go of Pepper's hand and head up the small bank to get better access. An old derelict building stands before us that is visual to everyone whether they walk, cycle, or are on the train. The building hasn’t been used for as long as I can remember, and to my surprise there is very little art decorating it. But that’s all about to change.
“What are we doing here?” Pepper questions, looking up at the building.
“I’m going to do a little Banksy, only in daylight where people can see.”
Her eyes widen in shock before a grin creeps across her face. “You’re not.”
“I am, and you’re going to help me.”
“Um, hello. Have you seen my artistic skills? A four-year-old could do better.”
“That’s why I’m spraying and you’re keeping a lookout.” I lower the rucksack from my back, opening it up to take out a spray can and shaking it. “Just get ready to run.”
“Run? Why would we have to bloody run? And why do I have to keep a lookout if we are allowed to graffiti?” she whisper-shouts, her eyes darting around nervously.
“Miss Livewell, you’ve clearly not done your research fully have you?” I glance at her with a smirk. “You’re only allowed to do it in certain areas and on certain buildings.”
“And let me guess this isn’t one of those buildings.”
“Nope. But we are going to illegally make it one.”
She holds her hand up, eyes wide. “Erm, we? Hold on Mister: you’re the one with the paints, not me.”
I spray a large area of the wall in yellow before searching in my bag for the blue can. A grin is permanently on my face because I can’t wait to see her reaction, only her reaction right now as she keeps watch is a frown. “You alright there, Blue?”
“No! I’m bloody not! And I’d appreciate it if you tried to not cover me with the spray.”
“I can’t help the wind,” I chuckle. “And you’re helping. There are gloves in my bag, put one on.”
With a mutter under her breath, she does what I say, rummaging in the bag. By the time she’s done that, I’ve finished adding the orange sun, the little birds and the four stickmen.
When she turns around, she gasps. “It’s my beach picture!” The beach scene she painted the other night at mine is now a large mural on the brick wall facing in towards Camden. “Why my picture?”
“I wanted London to see your raw talent… and of course your stick men.”
“Arsehole.” She punches my shoulder. “But how am I helping you when it’s you that is painting my design. Somehow standing on guard doesn’t bring much fun.”
“You are going to finish it off with a signature.” I nod to the paint cans that are now scattered around our feet. “Pick a colour.”
Looking down, there’s only one that comes to my mind and I’m glad she goes with it. Blue. She gives me the can, and I take hold of her hand, turning it over so the palm of the glove is facing us.
“Once I’m done, press your hand against the wall.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere next to or on the image.”
After I’ve sprayed the palm of her glove with blue paint, she quickly presses it against the wall at the corner of the beach image. As a final touch, I write the words Little Blue underneath her handprint and step back to get a better view of the wall. Pepper is grinning like a little kid as she pulls her phone out to take a picture of it.
Circling my arm around her neck, I kiss her temple. “Well, I guess we’ve given Banksy
a run for his money after all, right?”
“Thank you, Dexter. I love it.” She tilts her head up to look at me, her eyes sparkling with pride. I’m about to kiss her when the loud roar of a man across the street catches our attention and I see him with a Police officer.
“HEY! VANDALS.”
“Shit. Run!” I grab my rucksack and her hand.
“Dexter! The paints!”
“Just run!”
We sprint away from the officer and head down one alleyway and then another. My heart is in my throat, adrenaline pumping as we pound the London ground, weaving our way through the streets and oncoming people as Pepper tries hard to keep up. I’ve no idea where we are headed, and I don’t care because the laughter that is coming from Pepper is everything.
“Where are we?”
“No fucking idea,” I chuckle, still weaving our way around corners and causing chaos as we try to avoid people that head towards us.
Feeling Pepper starting to flag and confident we’ve lost the Police, I turn us left when I get a glimpse of Camden market and mentally know my whereabouts before I pull us into an alleyway that’s empty.
“Oh my God…” she breathes, taking off her big fluffy coat. “When you said get ready to run, I thought you were joking.”
“Fun, though, right?”
“Hell yes. I’ve not felt like this in a long time.”
She bends over with her hands on her knees, both of us hot and clammy as we continue to laugh at the moment of madness. This right here is what I’ve been longing for: the buzz; the light; the freedom... I’d give anything to have it this way every day, even if it meant breaking rules, and I’d give everything to experience it with Pepper.
As if she can read my mind and sense everything I want from her, our eyes latch and that look of deep yearning burns between us. And when I push her back against the wall and grab her face in both hands, we ignite the flame with a kiss that makes my knees buckle and a depth that has my heart falling for her even further.
I’ve never liked this feeling she has had the power to inflict on me—this security that has hit me unexpectedly—but Jesus, I can’t help but thrive on it now. When she is close, I want more. It was never meant to be like this, but now I can’t let her go. However, what I fear more is what is yet to come.
Because I will never be able to keep her safe.
Chapter Twenty-One
Pepper
I’m pushed up against the shower wall as Dexter’s mouth covers mine to devour me with a kiss like we’ve not kissed in days. The sexual tension on the way home after our little outburst of criminal damage had been raging between us, and if we hadn’t had left when we did, I’d have let him fuck me in the alleyway without a care in the world.
As we’d climbed the iron stairs to his place, our hands had been everywhere, pulling, pushing, touching and pleading with a thirst that neither of us could satisfy, and as soon as the door had been kicked closed, I was lifted around him before I’d had a chance to do anything else.
When this man wants something, he takes no prisoners. He is my weakness, my reason and everything that terrifies me in one form. But I can’t let go.
The warm spray of the shower covers us, saturating the clothes on our bodies like a second skin.
“I want you so fucking much,” Dexter growls, peeling my wet shirt from my body.
“That makes two of us.”
He removes his shirt and vest top in one hit, dropping them to the floor as I unbutton his jeans and push them down to release him. The sexy growl that vibrates at the back of his throat when I take him in my hands makes my stomach tighten with need. There’s nothing more satisfying than hearing what I’m doing to him—knowing I make him feel this way.
He roughly tugs down the cups to my bra and I release a moan when his teeth capture my pebbled nipple. My saturated skirt drops to the floor once the zip is undone before Dexter pulls my thick tights, peeling them off my body as I slide down my thong. “You wear way too many clothes.”
I giggle. “And here was me thinking we were just getting clean because we got all sweaty.”
“Baby, we’re gonna get really dirty before we get clean.” His mouth is back at my neck, the water trickling between our skin as our hands roam each other’s bodies like this will be our last time together and we need to remember it forever. Nothing is ever enough and with everything we still need more. I want more. I want him to take me any way he wants. I want him to make me feel so high I’m begging him to stop, even though I don’t want him to. I want him to take me to that place of oblivion because being there with him is out of this world. I want him. All of him. Every part that makes this man who he is and what he lives for.
“You’re always so wet for me.”
He pushes two fingers inside and my back arches, moaning as he teases me in slow thrusts.
“You drive me crazy on so many levels,” I breathe. “I don’t want it to end.”
His tongue swirls over the racing pulse between my collarbone, and I grip his biceps, needing him inside me as he drives my body crazy.
“Dexter. I need you inside me.”
“I’m already inside you. And I want to watch what I do to you.”
“You can do that with your dick in me.”
He chuckles. “Not right now.”
I let out a little noise I don’t recognise when he pins his hard body to mine, pressing me against the wall with no escape as he adds a third finger, curling them to send me wild, playing with the sensitive spot.
“Touch me.” My clit throbs and needs some attention but the fucker just grins, shaking his head at me, knowing exactly what he’s doing. When I try and relieve the heavy ache, he moves my hands away.
“Don’t touch yourself unless I tell you, Blue.”
“Dexter, please. I’m going crazy here.”
“That’s the point.”
I close my eyes, cursing under my breath with the endless torment of needing him to touch me, yet loving how he makes me feel.
As he scrapes his teeth over my collarbone, his free hand cups my breast before squeezing my nipple hard between his fingers. I moan as the pressure ripples in my lower stomach.
“Open your eyes, Blue. I want to watch you while I fuck you this way.”
I look at him, his face so close to mine. This man hides behind his truths and thrives on control. Yet right now, he’s dropped his guard so low, I can see both passion and promise burning like wildfire as he stares back at me. He feels it. This. Us. He feels it.
“Let me hear you,” he groans. My whole frame is trembling, my hips moving to his tempo as I grip both his shoulder and arse cheek. When he finally makes contact with my clit, a hot rush races over my body and I cry out his name.
“So fucking sexy.”
“Fuck me, Dex. Fuck me harder.” If anything, my climax has only heightened my need for him more.
He spins me around, places my hands on the shower wall and pulls my hips back so my arse pushes against him, nudging my legs apart. My mouth parts before he’s even done anything else and my head falls between my shoulders because I know what is to come. He’s answering my request and I know I’m going to be driven to the point where I’m struggling to breathe and begging him for more all the same. He’s ruined me when it comes to sex. He takes my body with no regret and leaves me with a deep craving that blows my mind every time.
“Please, Dexter,” I beg, knowing I shouldn’t because the more I do, the more he’ll make me wait, but the ache for him is wild.
He comes up close behind me, his cock pressing against me, tormenting me. His lips crawl across me with kisses, drinking in my body as he draws patterns with his tongue, scratching my skin with the scruff of his beard. It’s sensual but I want to scream from the bottom of my lungs because I. Need. Him.
“Wild, Blue. You drive me fucking wild.”
As he runs a single finger down the centre of my spine, he continues his path over my arse, only stopping when he reac
hes the puckered skin. When he circles his finger, my stomach tightens with nerves before the weight of my desire takes over at the idea of this new sensation he wants to inflict.
Before I can say anything, I let out a whimper, a plea, as my arousal has no limits.
“Have you ever been fucked here, Little Blue?” His deep voice is laced with longing as he continues the sexual torture, drawing me deeper, taunting me harder. I shake my head.
“Would you like me to fuck you here?” His hot breath at my ear is almost more of an invasion than his thrust was just now.
“Please,” I breathe.
This man brings out a confidence in me I never knew I had when it comes to sex.
When he pushes the tip of his finger inside, my breath catches. The sensation blows my mind the more he fills me. All the while, he continues teasing my clit and creating shockwaves. My legs tremble, my heart pounds frantically, and I can’t work out if this numbness that’s cascading through my body is euphoria or something else.
“Breathe, Pepper.” He reaches out and turns the temperature dial on the shower, and the cooler water soon flows over my body. “Shall I stop?”
I shake my head, realising that this numbness over me is, in fact, a craving so deep it’s going to rip me apart. “More. I want more.”
“Play with yourself for me. And don’t stop.”
As I slip my fingers between my legs, he shifts his position and enters me slowly, his finger still moving in and out of my behind. I’m so full, so hungry and high with lust and intoxication and him. He’s everywhere. In me, behind me, on me and around me. The euphoria is blinding as he induces slow, commanding thrusts that heighten every nerve ending in my body with a sensation I can’t rationalise. The beads of the water massage my lower back, sending me insane as my orgasm climbs, lighting me in flames.
“Kiss me, Dexter,” I breathe, needing him to satisfy one last part of me. “Kiss me as I cum.”
Pulling me back against him, I lock my arm around his neck, my fingers twisting in his wet hair as he plunges his tongue into my mouth. His drug craving mouth captures my cry as my climax hits, a low groan rumbles from the back of his throat when he fills me with his.