“You’ll want to do that again, won’t you?” he pushes, and I nod again, smiling because the relief of the endorphins are rising high.
“Yeah, I’ll want to do that again. I’ll do that again for you.”
“Whenever I tell you to? You’ll spread your cunt on that mattress for whoever I want you to, whenever I tell you to?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
“That’s my princess. I’m so lucky to have you.”
He makes light of what’s just happened, letting out a laugh as he pours himself a mineral water and another for me.
“Which cock was your favourite?”
I shrug. “Glasses guy.”
“Ah, yes. His was a nice big thick one. That’s a good girl. If I ever invited people over for seconds, he’d be one of the first ones I’d be inviting. I’ll have to make sure we get another guy who lives up to him for the next performance.”
I’m too tired for humour by now, so my laugh is a token one. I’m relieved when he takes me by the hand and says the words I need to hear.
“Time for bed, sweetheart. Let’s get you washed and cleaned up and under the bedcovers.”
Thank fuck for that.
Thank fuck that he holds me in the shower and washes me gently.
Thank fuck he kisses my brow and tells me he loves me so much as he wraps me in a huge fluffy towel and dries my aching body.
Thank fuck he helps me into the comfort of his bed.
One thing’s for sure as I slip under the covers – the warmth of Ant’s arms mean more to me than any bracelet ever will.
“You look fucked,” Janie laughs as I step in through the door.
I manage a smile, glad that she has no idea how close to the mark she is.
I try not to wince as I drop myself into my chair and place my clutch on my desk. My sleeve pulls back and she notices my bracelet straight away.
She dashes over to get a closer look.
“Another present! You’ll have a whole gallery’s worth of bling before the year’s out if he keeps this up. WOW. It’s huge! Covers up your whole tattoo.”
Yes, it is wow, and yes, it does cover up my whole tattoo with its blanket cuff of emeralds and white gold.
Janie and I are both still admiring the emeralds when she asks me the question.
“So, did you both get trashed together last night? I’m guessing not, since Ant doesn’t drink. Were you guzzling down the champagne while he made sweet love to you? That must have been quite something.”
She’s laughing and her voice is so high and sweet that it makes it easy to laugh along with her.
“Yeah, I was guzzling down the champagne while we made sweet love.”
She places her hands on her heart. “You’re such a lucky cow.”
I fight back the part of me that wants to confess and tell her the truth. That my boyfriend is the greatest man on the planet, but he likes me to fuck strangers like a cheap, slutty whore while he watches.
“He loves you so much,” she comments, and her eyes are full of happiness for me.
It brings me back to earth and I remember the ghost of his lips on my cheek as he left for his flight a few hours ago with a see you soon, baby.
“You’ve got to be the luckiest girl on the planet,” Janie sighs. “Please, universe, make me as lucky as you one day.”
I smile. “I’ll check out the Berlin crowd for you and let you know if there’s a candidate.”
She crosses her fingers. “Even someone half as good as Ant would be a winner. Scrap that. Even someone a quarter as good as Ant would be a winner.”
“Well, there are a few to choose from, so I’ll get scouting.”
“How about Finn?” she asks me, playing down the fact I’ve told her about Finn a hundred times before. The little I know of him outside of his success in Ant’s team, that is.
We’ve both tried to check out the team’s pictures on the company website and networking profiles, but almost all of them are private. I’ve tried to broach broader conversations with Ant about the people he works with, but he shrugs it off and focuses back to their job roles.
At least I’ll get to find out more soon in person.
“Yeah, Finn sounds cool. Ant likes to play badminton with him. Says he’s a funny guy.”
“I love a good sense of humour.” Janie pauses. “How about Melvin?”
“Maybe a good fit. Twenty-seven. Client reporting team, and apparently he’s exceptional at it.”
“He likes vegan documentaries, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah. You prepared to give up chicken topped pizzas for him?”
She laughs. “Maybe not.”
“I’ll focus on Finn, then.”
“Finn or Bob.”
Even the thought of the knife wielding home invader makes me cringe inside. It brings back the horrible finger puppet saga.