Sexy as Hell Box Set (55 page)

“
Mmm,” I said, not wanting to get into this conversation now. “We’ll talk about it later, all right?”

She nodded. “So, we’ll be there soon!” she said brightly, easing away from me to sit back properly. “I’m so excited!”

“Ollie is excited too,” Zara said. “Aren’t you,
darling?
” She ghosted one finger over the screen on her phone, not quite touching it.

I stared at her. Willed her not to press anything.

“Yes,” Ollie said. “Very excited. Unbearably excited, in fact.” He was red-cheeked and breathing erratically.

“Oh, then perhaps you ought to calm down a little,” Zara suggested, swiping the tip of one finger across her screen. She had the same one as me, so I knew she’d reopened the page she’d previously been on. “It doesn’t do to get too excited, too stressed, does it, Victor?”

“No,” I said, the word coming out cracked. I cleared my throat. “It’s best to remain calm, to not jostle the waters, so to speak. Otherwise you get the ripple effect.”

“Ripples,” Zara said, giving me her sly, cat-like smile. “So pretty.”

“Oh, I agree!” Catherine chimed in. “Did you ever throw pebbles into lakes as a child, just to see how far the ripples spread? I
loved
doing that. We’ll have to go down to the lake by the villa as soon as possible, Victor. It’s made me want to throw pebbles again.” She took her arm from around mine and hugged herself. “Ollie, I am
so
excited, like you!”

No, she wasn’t the least bit excited like him. He smiled at her tightly then closed his eyes. Jerked his pelvis. Cheeks getting redder. Groaned then clutched his stomach.

“Are you going to be sick, Ollie?” Catherine asked, leaning forward. “You don’t look too well. Do you need a bag? Help to the toilet?”

Ollie groaned again, shuddered, then covered his face with his hands, blowing air out between his fingers.

“No,” I said. “He doesn’t need any help now. He’s just come over all funny, that’s all.”

Come being the right word. Lucky bastard.

After kicking Ollie’s ankle, I’d leaned across to quietly remind him of the time I’d made him come in the coffee shop. I’d told him to think of everything I’d said that day and see if he could come again knowing Catherine was so nearby. He’d whispered back that he could, I’d then bet he couldn’t, and it seemed he’d proved me wrong. He hadn’t. I’d known he could manage it all along, and he’d ejaculated at just the right time too. Victor knew exactly what had happened, and he didn’t look too pleased about it.

I swept my finger across my phone screen to reopen it then pressed send. Victor’s phone bleeped, his face went red, and he gritted his teeth. I glared at him, asked with my eyes whether he was going to answer that, but he turned away to stare out of the window. The muscle in his cheek flickered, and he frowned, appearing to be struggling with either saying something or holding back his emotions. Perhaps both.

This trip was going to be such fun.

“Your phone went off, Victor,” Catherine said. “Did you not hear it? And you shouldn’t even have it on. It’s dangerous!”

“I did hear it, and I forgot to switch it off, but we’re on holiday, so it won’t hurt to wait a while. If it’s important, whoever it is can phone, can’t they.”

He’d sounded terse, on edge, and I studied Catherine to gauge how his answer had made her feel. She had a slight tinge to her cheeks—rosy pink—and she was biting her bottom lip. If I wasn’t mistaken it wobbled a bit, as though she was on the verge of tears. And yes, there they came, tears filling her eyes but not spilling over. God, she was so…insipid. So…ugh.

“I just had the same thing happen,” I said, glancing at Ollie, who had composed himself, hands over his groin, and breathed a little easier, although he still had his eyes shut. “Except my phone was on
vibrate
.”

Victor jerked his head around to look at me, implored me with
his
eyes to stop—stop teasing him, stop talking, stop doing anything at all. A small part of me wanted to—the poor man looked positively pained—but if I was to succeed in showing him Catherine wasn’t the woman meant for him, I had to continue on the path I’d so far been taking.

It really was for his own good.

Was he imagining a vibrator now? Going in and out of me, wet and glistening? I was sure he was. It didn’t take much to set him off. I licked my lips, dared him to start on me here, in front of the other two. He knew I’d win—I always had and always would—and I could see it in his eyes the second he’d decided to back down.

I teased my tongue in and out, mimicking a slick vibrator gliding through an altogether different opening, and watched as he became flustered. He was the image of Ollie, what with his hands now covering his cock, and I had no trouble imagining the
stiffy he was hiding. What a waste that was. If Ollie and Catherine weren’t here, I’d get down on my knees, take his cock out, and swallow the beautiful length of it for old time’s sake.

But they were here, and getting intimate with Victor wasn’t something I could allow myself ever again. Still, it was fun to get him riled up, and if he said anything about it, I’d tell him his reaction to what I was doing wasn’t my problem. That he ought to learn to control himself better.

“It was an old friend who I’d been texting,” I said, purposely breaking the spell. “You never know, Victor, your text might be from an old friend too. Aren’t you curious to see?”

“No,” he said, narrowing his eyes and shifting his arse a bit. “Whoever it is can get lost.” He stared at me. Hard. “I’m here with my
girlfriend
, on the way to having a week of
peace and quiet
, and old friends have
no place
there.”

A veiled warning. How cute. How easily ignored.

“Aww, well,” I said, “it’s a shame you disregard people so easily. You shouldn’t do that, in my opinion. You may have cast them aside far too soon.”

What on earth had made me say that?

“You would know all about disregarding, Zara.” He pressed his lips together and resumed staring out of the window.

So our discussion was at an end. Our little bit of secret play. He wanted no more of it. I decided to leave him be. Let him cool off—and that wouldn’t be a bad thing, seeing as Catherine was sitting right beside him. If she put her hand on the top of his thigh and felt his cock… No, I couldn’t see her doing that, even in private, unless thoroughly encouraged. I wondered if she had any idea what might be going on inside his head. Whether she even cared. I’d be willing to put two hundred pounds down that he was thinking about our text conversation. Thinking about Ollie coming. Warring with himself as to whether he wanted to ask me to do him one last little sexual favour to sort that hard-on he had going on in his pants.

Would he take me up on any offer I might make in the future? If I worded it in such a way where he knew there’d be no recriminations, that no one would know, would he spank my arse with his VP paddle then lick my cunt while I sucked him off? Afterwards, would he be able to walk away and never ask for more? Would I?

No, it was best we didn’t go down that road, but if I was honest, I could do with his hands on me, him fucking me hard and fast from behind, just one more time. His breaths hot on my neck, his fingertips digging into my hips, his thrusts
juddery, frantic, the pair of us thinking of one thing and one thing only—the need to come. We’d be in that place I’d shown him, where we’d fuck for fucking’s sake, no love involved, no annoying emotions that bound and tangled around us.

Like Victor had said, stop this silly business.

He needed to watch what he was saying, otherwise he’d get himself into very hot water too. I’d scald him, Catherine would scald him, and he’d be left burnt, a pile of useless ashes, swept away by the pair of us. I wasn’t enjoying seeing him so uncomfortable, of course I wasn’t, but it was a means to an end. He’d see that one day. It was one thing to love seeing him squirm in a sexual way, but when it meant he was toying with what to say to make everything all right between us all… Aww, I had to feel the slightest bit sorry for him.

“Is he always so testy?” I asked Catherine, diverting my attention to her, treating her to a co-conspirator’s grin that was aimed to get her to open up to me. Become my friend. Also, my having asked her that question would hopefully give her the impression I didn’t know Victor well enough to be a threat to her. Nothing to fear from me, we’d only been out on a couple of dates… She’d possibly confide in me at some point. That would be interesting—and necessary. “Poor you if he is!” I added on a laugh.

She stared back at me with a face that belonged on the Virgin Mary, all innocence and perfect skin. Perfect hair. Perfect teeth that she revealed with a I’m-such-a-nice-person smile. She sickened me. I was also sickened that Victor had saddled himself with such a girl-next-door blimp. He deserved so much better. He wasn’t reaching his potential, and the beast inside him must be screaming for attention. After all, it had only just been found, released, then he’d had to cage it back up again. The poor thing was, without a doubt, prowling, ready to pounce the second the door was opened again.

Still, I was here to remedy that. His beast would just have to wait a little bit longer, that was all. Once Catherine was out of the way, he’d find himself a
Domme-like woman who could take care of his every need.

“He’s lovely,” she said, dreamy-eyed. “Although sometimes he can be a bit distant.” She glanced up at him. “But that isn’t something that will cause a problem. We all have our foibles, don’t we, Victor?”

He nodded once, continuing his perusal of the clouds.

“Oh, yes,” I said. “Ollie has many foibles, too, don’t you, Ollie?”

“Hmm?” he said, opening his eyes. “I think I need to visit the toilet.”

“Good idea,” Catherine said. “You can rip that tag thing out while you’re there. No sense in being annoyed for the rest of the journey.”

I wished she was a plastic tag strip, easily discarded, the annoyance of her thrown to the floor to be stomped on. Sadly, she wasn’t.

Ollie got up and disappeared. Victor didn’t watch him go; it seemed the clouds were more appealing. Catherine followed his departure, though, evidently worried about the so-called tag issue giving him hassle. Was she that bland
all
the time?

She rose, smoothed down her clothing, and said, “I’m going to the other toilet myself. Excuse me.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her she was excused—and gladly too—but I held myself in check. After she’d gone, Victor whipped his phone from his pocket and read the message. His face coloured and he looked about ready to rip my head off.

Damn, I hoped he was remembering to take those sodding tablets of his.

He stuffed it back then glared at me. Leant forward, gripping the armrests, his nostrils flaring. “Pack. It. In,” he said, the words smothered in barely suppressed exasperation. “Honestly, you’re going to ruin this holiday with your filthiness. You know damn well what I’d planned to do this week, yet you got yourself an invite—and don’t think I’m not aware of that—and now, here you are, messing everything up.”

I feigned surprise. “What! I haven’t done anything!”
Yet.

“Oh, don’t play the innocent. You know exactly what you’re doing, and it isn’t going to work.” He thrust himself back, waving me away with one raised hand. “Play with Ollie. Fuck him up in the head instead, just stay away from me and Catherine.”

“Fuck him up in the head?” I asked. “Oh, Victor, you know damn well I won’t be fucking him up there.”

“See! There you go again.”

“What?”

“The bloody innuendoes. You may as well have just said you planned on fucking his arse, because that’s basically what you’d implied.”

“You need to calm down, Victor. Think of your heart.”

“My heart is none of your concern, and I will calm down once you’re out of my sight.” He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, and stared at the ceiling. “This isn’t fair, Zara.”

“What isn’t?”

He lowered his gaze to me. I wanted to go over to him and hold him, smell him, tell him that I would fix everything and that he just had to trust that I knew what was best for him. But I remained where I was. I couldn’t risk being caught with him.

“This,” he said, gesturing between us. “I know I shouldn’t say it, that you won’t want to hear it, but there’s something still there, and I don’t like it.”

“There?”

“See, that’s what I’m bloody talking about! Stop pretending.
There
—you know, something’s there between us and you keep playing with me.”

“I’m not doing anything of the sort,” I snapped. “It isn’t my fault you’re taking things the wrong way.” I lowered my voice. “And if you think there’s something there, then you’re mistaken.”

He nodded, smirked at me. “So that’s how you’re going to play it, is it? Denial. Make me feel as though I still have a thing for you and it doesn’t go both ways. Make me sound as though I’m a cocky, full-of-himself bastard who thinks you still have feelings for me—if you ever had any real ones in the first place.”