Page 12 of Knotting Hill
Her friend. The one in the black dress. I recognise the omega because of the wolf tattoo she has on her upper arm. She works in the store where I buy my t-shirts. Ironic, much. I snicker, remembering Storm’s face. I don’t give a fuck about it. It cost me six quid in a sale. But she offered, and I jumped on it, knowing it was a sure-fire way to get her name, and I was hoping for her number. But she’s too clever, too safe for that. Instead, she gave me her place of work.
It’s a start.
I close the laptop and head to the shower, stripping off the rest of my clothes. My bed is calling to me, all fresh and inviting, with its dark green covers to match the carpet and walls, but this is more important. Besides, I need a new fucking t-shirt.
With a smug grin, I duck into the steaming hot shower, dreaming of the day when I get to bring Storm in here and rail her up against the tiles while she comes all over my cock.
Unfortunately, that gives me a raging hard-on that won’t quit, not even when, with a grimace, I blast arctic water down on my head to make it go away.
Knowing I need to take matters into my own hands, I close my eyes and imagine her touching me, those delicate hands reaching for my cock. I open my eyes and look down at myself. I cup my hand around the hard length of my cock, slowly stroking it as I fantasise about her exploring it, her lips pressed against my tip before she plunges her mouth over me.
My breathing grows ragged as I continue to stroke myself, imagining her lips on me, her tongue tracing circles around the head of my raging dick. My body trembles as I can almost feel her stroking my body, her hands exploring my innermost desires.
Groaning, I move faster, my hand tightly gripping my shaft as I feel the pleasure building up. I imagine her on her knees in front of me, her eyes locked on mine as she takes me deep into her mouth. I arch my back as I picture her tongue flicking down my length. It gets harder with each passing second.
When I finally reach my peak, my orgasm crashes over me as I let out a shuddering sigh, coming all over the cool white tiles in hot splats of pleasure.
The fantasy still lingers in my mind as I let out a deep breath. I smile as I proceed to clean up, and I step out of the shower, feeling refreshed and invigorated. I look down at my still hard cock and shake my head, feeling content in the knowledge that I have just pleasured myself with Storm in mind. But nothing is getting rid of this hard-on.
It makes getting re-dressed tricky and uncomfortable.
Passing Russell’s room on my way downstairs, I hear him snoring and leave him be. This is something I want to do on my own anyway. I don’t really want Russ and Josh to know I’ve been hit in the heart by Cupid’s arrow a few weeks too late. Not yet. Iwant to know more about Storm first, as much as I can, so that we can make a play for her armed and with serious intent. This isn’t going to be some wishy-washy, half-arsed attempt based on who we are, like it usually is. No. She made it quite clear that she either doesn’t know or doesn’t care. She was fuming, not fawning.
I didn’t know I liked that until today. And maybe I don’t, really, except with her. Suddenly, everything is about her. I don’t know if anything will come of this infatuation I have with her, but I know I would deeply regret it if I didn’t find out. It’s not an option to walk away.
Heading away from the house and towards the bustling street where the Boutique is, I contemplate how this conversation will go. I can’t just demand that she hand over all of Storm’s information. I have to be casual and yet slightly sneaky, so she doesn’t think I’m a weird stalker.
The day is warming up nicely now, and by the time I reach the shop, my head is clearer, and I’m chomping at the bit to find out all the things about Storm.
I shove the door open and glance around, making sure the friend is working today. She is, so I step further inside. She is with a customer, so I start to flick through some t-shirts, figuring I might as well pick one up while I’m here. This rack has ones in black with prints on the front, which isn’t usually my style. I prefer plain, or with a snazzy splash of colour. However, I pause when I come across one that just seems to be fate.
I grin and pick it up just as Storm’s friend comes over.
“Hey, anything I can help with?” she asks.
I look up, wondering where to start, but see recognition flash in her eyes. “JP, right?” she asks, scrunching up her cute nose. She’s pretty and curvy, slightly goth looking with her long black skirt, black hair and Doc Martens.
“Yeah, hey, Cassidy.” I grabbed her name from the nametag and let it flow freely from my tongue.
“How’s things?” she asks.
“Good. You?”
“Yeah, great!”
I cringe. This isn’t going in the direction I’d hoped it would.
“Hey, you know Storm Rivers, don’t you?” I blurt out, needing to direct this conversation towards the whole reason I’m here.
“Yeah, we’re besties,” she says, with a smile. “You know Storm?”
I nod. “You were atelitelast night.”
“Oh yeah, Ladies' Night. I didn’t see you…” She makes it sound like she was looking for me, which sets off a red flag, which I promptly ignore in favour of getting more information out of her about her friend.
“I was there a bit later on with my pack, and John and Phil.”
“Oh, I did see Phil,” she says, clicking her fingers. “That was way late, though. I was on my way out. Such a bummer; it looked like it was raging.”
