The Girlfriend (The Boss) (33 page)

“I have a very inspiring view,” Emir murmured, his hands sliding up my ribcage. He pulled me up, curving my back as he withdrew and thrust deeper, and I rocked my hips desperately. The gentle bend of his cock pressed the ridge of his head against my g-spot, and I couldn’t help myself. I rubbed on him, faster and faster, until I burst all around him.

“I’m coming! Oh fuck, I’m coming!” I shouted, and Emir’s fingers sank into my hair, jerking some of the pins loose.

My body had barely finished trembling when he abruptly withdrew and, with a firm grip on my hair, ordered, “Look at him. Do you see how much he wants you?”

Neil’s cock was in his hand now, his belt and fly hanging open as he leaned against the high end of the chaise.

“Get on your knees and crawl to him,” Emir commanded, and I did as he said, hoping and praying that if I was a good girl and did as I was told, he would fuck me again. One brief taste wasn’t enough. I’d been starving for too long.

Emir held my hair as I crawled, and long tendrils fell loose. My face was sweaty, and I was sure my mascara had run. I must have looked so depraved, crawling across the rug, desperate for cock, because Neil’s throat moved with a painful-looking swallow as I approached.

“I think Chloe should suck your cock, Leif. I think she should suck you off while I fuck her.” Emir led me between Neil’s spread knees. “Go on, Chloe. Show me how you can make him come.”

I wetted my lips and locked eyes with Neil before taking the tip of him in.

“I can’t believe you can get all of that in your mouth,” Emir said with a chuckle, kneeling behind me again. “Leif, you have a very impressive cock.”

“Thank you. Perhaps you’d like to try it out some time. I’m sure Chloe would love to watch.”

My pussy clenched. Watching him fuck Emir would be...
 

My eyes rolled back in my head as Emir pushed inside me with one hard thrust. I sucked Neil deeper into my mouth, bracing myself awkwardly between the two men. I was so busy concentrating on not falling or moving in a way that would force Emir out of me that I didn’t even notice the orgasm building in me, swelling to a breaking point just a heartbeat after I recognized what was happening. All I could do for a moment was hold on to the edge of the chaise and gasp as I rose higher and higher, then fell like gun powder from a firework.

“I’m going to come, Leif,” Emir rasped, his hands falling to grip my ass and rock me harder against him. “I’m going to fucking come in this beautiful pussy.”

“Yes!” I cried around a mouthful of cock, and Neil’s dick jerked against the back of my throat, spraying hot droplets on my tongue as he groaned. Emir buried himself deep, his fingers digging into me painfully as he pummeled me with rapid thrusts. When he came, he shouted and slapped my ass.

The moment Emir withdrew, I hurried to the wastebasket to spit. Chemo had made Neil’s semen taste god awful, and I worried that indicated the presence of meds in it.

I wondered how many other people end their threesomes with thoughts of chemotherapy, and I laughed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. In fact, I laughed so hard that I couldn’t stay up, and I rolled onto my back on the floor, my stomach jiggling from laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Emir asked with a grin.

“I feel amazing, that’s all.” I sat up on my elbows. “Thank you two.”

“It was my pleasure,” Emir said, then he grimaced. “Excuse me a moment.”

He went to the bathroom to get rid of the condom, leaving Neil and I alone. I beamed at him.

He looked pretty damned pleased, himself. “That was incredibly hot.”

“Thanks.” I bent my knees, my feet flat on the carpet, giving him a little peep show. “I thought I was doing okay.”

“Better than okay,” Emir said as he stepped out of the bathroom. “Chloe, you are amazing. I hope we do this again.”

“Maybe you two could get involved while I watch next time,” I suggested, making a finger gun that moved from Emir to Leif.

Emir couldn’t hide his smirk. “Any time I’m in London.”
 

He declined an offer of a shower or something to drink, checking his watch after he drew his jeans up and over his hips. “I don’t wish to be rude, but I want to get back to my wife. We have dinner plans tonight.”

“Oh, fuck and run, why don’t you?” I giggled. I got up and donned my black silk robe while he buttoned his shirt. When he was ready to leave, I shook his hand. He leaned forward and kissed the air beside my cheek.

Neil had fastened his belt, but he didn’t stand. “Forgive me, if I don’t get up.”

“No, no. Stay there,” Emir said, stepping over to shake hands with him. “It has truly been a pleasure.”

I showed Emir out, thanked him again, and I was surprised at how easy it was to be around him even after we’d had sex. It was like saying goodbye to an old friend. I really hoped we would see him again.

“That went well,” Neil observed when I returned to the bedroom. “Perhaps shorter than I would have liked, but with my current stamina—”
 

“It went better than well.” I cut him off, because I didn’t want him to get down on himself. Not after our great afternoon. “I had a super good time.”

“So did I.” Neil stood and moved to the bed, where he dropped down heavily. “I need a nap now. That’s the mark of good sex, isn’t it?”

“Definitely.” I shrugged out of my robe and dropped to my knees in front of him. I slipped his leather loafers off and rolled down his socks. I’d found that his mood improved greatly if I fussed over him while I was naked. It helped distract him so he couldn’t lecture me.

He reached down and traced the line of my jaw, brushing back slashes of my fallen hair. “You are so beautiful. While I love fucking you, it was fantastic to have the opportunity to watch you have sex.”

I shivered. I’d just come down from insane heights of arousal, but my body throbbed again at his words.

His thumb brushed my earlobe as his fingers threaded through the roots of my hair. “Knowing how you feel is one thing. Having the visual from a different perspective was the most arousing thing I’ve ever seen.”

He didn’t ask me if Emir was better. I didn’t think he would— and he probably knew what the answer was, already. Sex with Emir had been wonderful, but the connection between Neil and me lent more weight to our encounters. Still, I was glad that Neil didn’t ask. It proved to me, in a way I couldn’t effectively analyze, that this was something
we
had done, together, not something that I’d done or that had been done
to
me.

I helped Neil undress and get into bed, then climbed in beside him to snuggle. Once he was soundly asleep, I dressed, grabbed my laptop, and headed downstairs.

I went into the library and settled my computer on a small, round table in the corner. Pulling up a leather wing-chair, I opened Word and drummed my fingers on the keys.

I’d thought a lot about Neil’s suggestion that I write about life as the partner of a person with cancer. Though he had seemed okay with the idea, I wasn’t sure he was thinking it through. I couldn’t write about my experience without acknowledging the fact that we lived a very privileged life. And once I started being open about those types of things, it would inevitably become clear exactly who the cancer patient in question was. Neil had already declined offers for interviews and paid exclusives to talk about his condition. If he wanted his privacy, I didn’t want to sacrifice it.

But it would have been disingenuous of me to present myself as a normal middle or working class woman. I’d grown pretty far from my Midwestern roots even before I’d come to London with Neil. How could I ask a woman in rural Nebraska driving fifty miles one way to visit her husband in the hospital twice a week to identify with
my
pain?

I just couldn’t do it.

I pulled up the internet browser and slipped on my headphones. I went to YouTube and searched make-up tutorials, in the hopes that I’d find something that would spark my interest in writing. As I looked over the sheer volume of tutorials for eye looks and foundation and nails, it hit me.

I was cute. I was good at make-up. I used to be an assistant beauty editor at the biggest fashion magazine in the world, for Christ’s sake.

I could totally start my own YouTube channel.

Was that a job?

Does it matter?
It wasn’t like I was doing anything else with my time. And it might actually be fun.

I sprinted upstairs, feeling slightly bad about waking Neil. I leaned over his side of the bed and shook him awake. “Baby, wake up a second.”

“No.”

“You can go right back to sleep, I promise. I just need to know if you have a video camera.”

“In the closet, in the toy cupboard.” He motioned toward the nightstand. “You need the key.”

“Thanks. You’re a peach.” I leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

While Neil wasn’t weird about some things being in the open— he had no problem keeping condoms and lube and his vibrator in the unsecured nightstand— he kept the bulk of his “toys” under lock and key. It had been necessary, he’d explained, when Emma had lived at home full-time and would go snooping around his things. “There are just some parts of my life I’m not comfortable sharing with my daughter,” he’d told me with a laugh. His ex-wife hadn’t been too into that stuff, either, so she had appreciated not having to explain the presence of the items in question to the maids.

I’d seen the inside of the cabinet once, when we’d returned from Paris and Neil had put stuff away. While I knew I had an open invite to use anything inside, I hadn’t thoroughly perused the inventory yet; sex had been the last thing on my mind for the past two months.

I slipped the key into the lock and opened the doors. There was the paddle I loved so much, two floggers— one rubber, one leather—, dildos and plugs in glass and silicone, the vibrating wand, various restraints and clamps and... ah, there was the camera, a little black Flip HD. I plucked it from its shelf and turned it over in my hands. I’d expected something a little fancier.

Wait... why is this in here?

I almost dropped it.

Okay, so obviously you know what this particular camera is for. But anybody he’s filmed with it is in the past. There’s no reason to be irrationally jealous.

How did I feel about Neil possibly having video of past encounters with people who weren’t me? I didn’t have a problem with the fact that he had a sexual past— that would be pretty hypocritical coming from the queen of casual hook-ups— but somehow the idea of souvenirs didn’t sit right with me. I had no problem with his porn collection, because he didn’t know any of those people. But if he was getting off to videos of his encounters with women— and men— who weren’t me... that felt weirdly like cheating.

Then I remembered why I’d wanted the camera in the first place, and I decided I could worry about the other stuff later. I grabbed the small table-top tripod that had been stored with it, left the key dangling in the lock, and grabbed my tote full of nail care stuff and thundered back down the stairs to the library.

That was where Neil found me three hours later, wired on coffee with a vertical French manicure design on my nails.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. He made it as far as the sofa and had to sit down, out of breath.

“I’m working on something really exciting!” I slipped my headphones off. “I’m editing a nail tutorial I made. And then I’m going to upload it to YouTube.”

“Oh?” He pushed himself up again and came over. It took a lot of effort, so he was genuinely interested. “Is this a part of your plan to jumpstart your career?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? I’m not pinning too many hopes on this. It’s good enough as a hobby.” I made sure my project saved and close my laptop. “But you can’t see it yet. It’s not finished.”

“I’m so glad you’ve found something to do. I’ve been a little worried about you,” he admitted.

I stood and let him have my seat. “It is pretty weird to be jobless. I guess I used to work so much, I didn’t really know what to do with my free time. I hope I haven’t been driving you crazy.”

“Not at all. I think we both have the same problem. We have no interests outside of work.” He made a face. “That’s a bit sad, isn’t it?”

“We have interests outside of work. We just can’t indulge them right now,” I reminded him. My gaze fell on the video camera on its tripod. “And about those... I couldn’t help but notice that this camera was in with all your sex gear. And I gotta ask.”

“No. I don’t have any video saved anywhere.” He sounded disappointed by that. “Elizabeth asked me to delete all of it when we got engaged.”

“You didn’t want to?”

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted. “I’m sure it sounds selfish of me. Adulterous, even. But I had some very happy memories recorded.”

“Knowing what I know about you, I guess I can see why she felt threatened. I mean, she wasn’t into everything you were into. Maybe she was worried she wasn’t fulfilling all of your needs?” I shrugged. “Honestly, I didn’t like the idea of you looking at past conquests, either. I would always wonder if you were sorry you weren’t still with those partners.”

“Which is why I deleted them when Elizabeth asked.” His expression brightened. “But when I’m healthy again, perhaps we can rebuild my vast archive together.”

“Vast?” I raised an eyebrow.

He laughed. “I’m vain. I won’t apologize for it. I’m pretty fantastic and I look good on camera. I may have missed my true calling in life.”

“You know...” I hesitated to even bring it up, but I couldn’t let it slip past his notice. “You just said, ‘when’ you get healthy again. Not ‘if’.”

“I’ve been working on that with Terry.” He looked down at his hands. “I think I’m going to lose this fingernail.”

I wanted to say, “Gross,” but I settled on “Poor baby,” and leaned down to kiss his forehead.

“I’m trying to stay positive. I think I’m doing a decent job of it, considering I’m falling quite literally to pieces.”

I knelt on the floor in front of the chair and leaned my head on his knees. When I got a chance to be near him lately, I took it. Some days, he was so hot or clammy or just plain uncomfortable that I couldn’t even hug him. “But you haven’t lost your hair yet, that’s a bonus, right? Dr. Grant said you’d lose it in two weeks, and you’re about to go through the third round of this junk.”