I see his head going lower. Slowly pushing his tongue into me.
He whispers how wet I am before pushing his tongue in and out.
I’m imagining his firm tongue giving me just the right amount of pressure that makes me beg for more. Then in the same way he tortured my nipple he adds pressure to my clit and gently bit on it.
I adds more pressure with my toy then I came more intense than I have in a while.
Damn you Adrien Banks. I really want to hate you, but I can’t.
When I first saw Adrien lastnight, it was like a sucker punch right in the stomach.
Every way he’d hurt my feelings when we broke up came flooding to the surface.
Feelings I’d kept buried deep, deep down. I know I was being passive-aggressive at first. It's not a personality trait I particularly like in myself.
Stretching in bed, I slowly open one eye and grab my phone.
Why the hell did I agree to having breakfast with him?
Why did he have to still look so good? No, scratch that, he’s better looking in that annoying way, guys have of only getting better looking the older they get.
After changing my dress multiple times, I settle on the dress I picked out in the first place.
Last night, Adrien brought back a lot of old memories. Mostly good, some big memories - one part of him I definitely miss. Sara, mind out of the gutter!
Like that shit-eating grin he had on his face when he saw me approaching. God, that man knew how to make me weak in the knees. I know I’m only feeling this weak because I’m going through a long dry spell, but Adrien Banks has lost none of his sex appeal. He’s only gotten better with age. Like a fine wine or George Clooney.
If I am going to get through this wedding in one piece, I am going to need to wear a suit of armour and check my feelings at every turn.
I cannot be crying in my hotel room after my best friend gets married, and my heart broken all over again.
If I let Adrien Banks get under my skin – or between my thighs – I don't know if I'll be able to come back from it a second time.
As I getout of the car and walk over to the main lobby of Adrien’s hotel, I stop and admire the view.
He’s sat on a comfy chair, completely oblivious to the people around him, phone in hand in deep concentration. I guess some things never change. When we were together, I thought I was going to need to surgically remove it from his hand.
He also doesn’t notice two women a couple of chairs over basically eye fucking him.
He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt that must seem foreign to him. He wasn’t one for the jeans and t-shirt look. Then again, I never met vacation Ady. Work was always getting in the way.
But boy can the man rock a three-piece suit.
Considering most of our relationship, we were competing with each other. That’s the Ady I know best.
My phone rings. I consider not answering until I see Catherine calling, maybe she has a bride emergency.
We can only hope.
“Hey Catherine, do you have a brief emergency you need me for?”
“Well, that’s telling,” she laughs. I hear her moving things around. It sounds like she’s making coffee.
“Don’t be daft. You may as well use me while I’m here.”
“It’s not like you’re free, anyway.”
Shit. She knows.