Page 4 of Deal with the Devil
“Shut up, sissy! Remember the time you went to that party and your fast little behind drank all that beer, then you puked on the front doorstep?”
“It was my first time drinking! I had no idea I’d get that drunk off two beers!”
Our back-and-forth continues until the Uber drops us off in front of my apartment building.
When we finally make it up to my place, Jayla slurs something about hopping in the shower so she can actually get some beauty rest.
“You know how much I hate travel days,” she mumbles. “I need my sleep if I’m going to have to be dealing with TSA.”
The bathroom door snaps shut, and I’m left alone in the living room, a harsh reality crashing over me. Tonight reallyisJayla’s last night in DC. Tomorrow, she’ll board a plane back toNewport, and everything I’ve been avoiding for the past week and a half since she’s come to visit will be waiting for me.
All the loneliness. All the dissatisfaction at work.
All the heartbreak I’ve refused to deal with since my breakup with Rafael.
I’ve tried so hard to hold it together these past few months, but as time goes by, it becomes damn near impossible.
Jayla visiting was a reprieve. A breath of fresh air at a time I’d started to question if I made a huge mistake.
I retreat into my bedroom to the distant sounds of the shower.
When I first moved into my new place, I went all in decorating. I painted the walls a lavender gray and furnished each room with a feminine minimalist vibe. Sleek and narrow furniture. Tasteful mix of patterns and textures. Occasional pops of color.
But once I was done measuring every photo frame and rearranging the bookshelf in the living room to my satisfaction, I realized it was just a distraction.
I would actually have to form a new life here in DC. Truly start over after Newport.
It sounded easier than it actually was. Instead, all I’ve done for the past few months is work, work, and more work.
And then come straight home to keep myself company.
I plop down on the side of my bed and draw my nightstand drawer open. Inside are things like my sleep mask, some lip balm, a dream journal, and a folded up piece of paper.
Thepiece of paper Rafael left for me that morning.
I’m not even sure why I haven’t ripped it up and tossed it out. What good has keeping it done, except to make it impossible to move on?
But every time I have tried to crumple it up or throw it away, I’ve stopped myself. I’ve folded it back up and put it away, like it’s some memento to hang onto to.
“What’s wrong with me?” I mumble under my breath.
My fingers skip over the folded paper and move onto one of the other things I keep in the drawer.
The vibrator buzzes to life as I glance at the door to make sure it’s closed, then lay back on my bed. It’s been a long night of cocktails, and I need to find release somehow. My eyes snap shut as I slide the vibrator into my panties and press it up against my clit.
Pleasure immediately echoes through me.
I grind back against the vibrator and let my imagination run wild. The four walls of my bedroom fall away for a different bedroom altogether. Though almost as familiar.
Suddenly, I’m lying in the middle of a large king-sized bed. Moans fall freely from my lips. The man in between my thighs strokes deeper into me and then silences me with a kiss. His hands canvas my body, his wide palms sliding over my breasts and stomach and hips.
His touch feels so good. His dick even better.
I’m lost to the pleasure he inflicts on me. Every roll of his hips is designed to unravel me. Bring me to new heights as my orgasm rises like a tidal wave.
His dark eyes gleam watching me fall apart.
“Sei così bella quando vieni sul mio cazzo.”
