#ppcu characters

Harry Castillo is a man of power. He works for the private equity business that his mother started up when she was younger, and he owns the most businesses out of anyone there. Besides his mother of course. 

The Castillos have never been afraid of money. Hell, they bathe in it every night. Because of this, Harry isn’t afraid to spend a pretty penny on a woman. Except he hasn’t found someone that actually deserved it.

Sure, he’s had his fair share of women — none that he’s ever been photographed with. A list extending from women he’s worked with to sex workers. But no one has interested him long enough for him to think about any type of future with them. He’s not necessarily proud of his ways, but it’s a big stress relief for him.

Control is a necessity in all parts of Harry’s life — including in the bedroom. These women willingly submit themselves to please him in whatever way he desires. Of course, Harry still respects them and makes sure they’re properly taken care of. After all, he’s not a dick. He just thinks with his. 

Harry is currently on a phone call in his office. Something about a leak that was reported in a recent building he bought. To be honest, he tunes out the man on the other end about halfway into the conversation.

“Yeah, I’ll look into it,” he says, exasperated as he waits to end the phone call sooner rather than later.

“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Castillo. Have a good—“

The man’s voice dies out as Harry puts down the phone, effectively ending the conversation before the man could finish his thought. He slumps back in his chair, running a hand down his face. 

Crown Castillo has been the busiest and biggest it’s ever been. The annual New Years gala is in a few weeks, and his mother wants him to have a date for it. Harry could get any woman he wants for it, really. But he has been getting tired of that life. He is well into his fifties and coming to terms with the fact that he might end up alone.

Just then, his assistant, Rick, knocks on his door. “Come in,” Harry calls out, sitting up straight in his chair.

The door slowly opens before Rick steps in, “Mr. Castillo, there’s a woman here to see you. Something about the photography at the gala.”

Confusion stretches across Harry’s face before he tells Rick to let her in. He wasn’t aware of any meetings with a photographer, but he’d see what they needed.

What Harry doesn’t expect is for you to walk in: younger, long hair that went down past your shoulders, soft skin, black blazer, black skirt that stopped at your mid thighs, and the expanse of your legs being covered by sheer stockings. 

Fuck, you’re a sight.

Standing up, Harry buttons the middle of his suit jacket. “How can I help you, ma’am?” he asks with a small nod.

You wait for his assistant to close the door before you walk up to Harry’s desk. Extending out your hand, you introduce yourself. Your hand is practically swimming in his as he gives you a firm handshake.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he says before gesturing for you to sit in one of the chairs across from his desk.

“My business was called about taking pictures for your upcoming New Years gala. They sent me out to confirm with you. Make sure everything is exactly the way you want; the pictures you want taken of the venue, the people – the food even.”

Harry watches your lips move as you talk, subconsciously licking his own while he takes in your words. He hadn’t been aware that there would even be photographers at the gala this year, so this must’ve been his mother’s doing.

He clears his throat, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I was made aware about any of this. You might’ve been looking for my parents, not me.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Your parents?”

“It’s a family business,” he shrugs like it’s nothing. As if Crown Castillo isn’t the wealthiest private equity firm in the U.S.

“Ah, I see,” you nod slowly, “So who do I speak to then?”

“Well,” he rounds his desk, moving to stand in front of you, “if you were looking for a ‘Mr. Castillo’, that would be my father: Emiliano.”

You nod once, taking in the information and correcting the form you brought in. As you build up the courage to ask, you place the end of your pen between your lips, drawing Harry’s gaze towards them once more.

His gaze darkens, hands tightening on the edge of his desk until his knuckles are nearly white.

“Do you mind showing me where your father’s office is then?” you finally ask, putting down your pen and meeting his eyes.

Harry would normally tell someone who asked for directions to ask his assistant, but something about you draws him towards you. His body craves a little more time with you, even if it’s just for five more minutes.

“Sure. This place is easy to get lost in,” he huffs out something close to a laugh.

He gestures for you to walk in front of him, getting a small whiff of your perfume. It’s something subtle, sexy and sophisticated, causing his slacks to feel a little tighter and uncomfortable. Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been so easily affected by a woman, let alone one he just met.

As he holds the door open for you, he allows his eyes to travel down the back of your body, getting a good view of your ass before he walks in front of you.

“Such a gentleman,” you tease him lightly as the two of you walk in unison.

Harry feels heat creep up his neck, wondering if you felt his heavy gaze on you or if you’re referring to his manners. “Yeah,” he says gruffly before he clears his throat, “I’m not as big of an asshole as they say I am in the press.”

Your brows knit in confusion at that, “The press?”

He freezes in his tracks, making you stop as well. The stare he’s giving you is almost like he’s trying to figure you out. His eyes are narrowed, mouth slightly agape as he reads you.

Your pulse picks up under his intense stare. Chest rising and falling a bit faster before he speaks. “You don’t… know who my family is?” he asks in disbelief.

“Am I supposed to?”

“I… guess not,” he says quietly, brushing it off before he continues walking.

You stand there, trying to process what just happened before you trail behind him. 

“Sorry if I offended you, Mr. Castillo, but I’m not really into the whole… business world of things. I’m sure you and your family have plenty of fame. I just don’t know anything about it.”

Immediately you realize how much you’re rambling when Harry doesn’t even bat another eye at you. His expression is stoic as he walks, keeping his eyes trained forward. You got a sense that you would ruin this deal if you kept talking, so you stayed quiet for the rest of the walk.

After another minute of walking past the most expensive and busiest people you’ve ever seen, the two of you stop in front of an office door that reads: Emiliano Castillo.

“Thanks for walking me here,” you murmur once he turns towards you.

There’s the faintest hint of a fire burning behind Harry’s eyes. So faint that you aren’t even sure if you’re really seeing it.

“Guess I’ll see you soon,” he states, his voice a little rougher than it was before. 

You’re not too sure why, but your skin prickles at his tone. Goosebumps spread across your arms as you look up at him.

“See you soon, Mr. Castillo.”

With that, he walks away, leaving you alone to talk to his father.

Harry Castillo was a man of power, and he was slowly losing it with you. After leaving you, he makes his way to the men’s restroom, locking the door behind himself before he steps into a stall. The heavy ache between his thighs becomes too much, and his erection is noticeable. He needs to do something about it quickly.

The second the sound of him unbuckling his belt echoes within the four walls of the restroom, he knows he is going to regret this. He pulls out his throbbing cock with a small hiss before spitting on his hand and fisting himself.

He works his wrist at a steady pace, tipping his head back in ecstasy as his thoughts drift to you. He imagines hiking up your short skirt and bending you over his desk, or fucking you against the floor-to-ceiling windows in his office.

God, he just knows you’d make the prettiest noises as he fucked you into oblivion. He’d make sure to drag his cock within the deepest depths of you, making you and your pussy sing. 

Just the mere thought of it has him thrusting into his hand faster, fucking his fist until he creams all over it. He shudders through his orgasm, vision going a little blurry around the edges, causing him to place a hand on the stall door to keep his balance. 

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever cum like that just from the thought of someone he barely had five minutes of interaction with. No, this is something entirely different, and he isn’t completely sure about what it was exactly. 

After all of that, there’s one thing Harry knows for sure: You’re his, whether you know it or not.

Setting up the gala with the coordinator has been… eventful. You’re not even completely sure if he was actually listening to your advice or if he was just staring at your tits. Perhaps the dip of your dress was a little too far down your cleavage, but it isn’t your fault that men act like pigs around you.

The venue is beautifully decorated and you’re sure you are going to get some gorgeous shots. Diamonds dangle from the ceiling in forms of chandeliers, reflecting off of the tall walls covered in expensive art. You had an inkling that the Castillos were rich, you just didn’t know how rich.

Right at 7PM, guests start to pile in. Women wearing diamonds and gold around their necks, wrists, and fingers. You’re guaranteed that if you sold this building and the people in it alone, you’d make a lot of money. But you aren’t here to think hypothetically, you’re here to do your job, and you’re going to make sure the photographs are up to both your boss’ and Emiliano’s standards.

Guests mingle, drinking punch, eating the appetizers that were set out, some checking out the art, but the Castillos are still nowhere to be found. It’s nearing 8:30 and Gavin — another photographer — is starting to get antsy. 

“We’re supposed to get a shot of them coming in,” Gavin says through his teeth, letting out an exasperated breath.

“They’ll be here,” you murmur, your eyes focused within the camera lens.

You’re watching the guests through your camera, always ready for the perfect shots. A happy couple smiling, the camera flashes. Guests looking up at the art, another flash. 

When one head snaps towards the door, so does your camera, and you don’t hesitate to take the shot of the family walking in. The lens whirs as you zoom in on the parents alone, and then the brothers.

It’s almost automatic when Harry feels a camera on him. His gaze finds you in the crowd after the picture is taken, and you lower the camera just slightly to catch his eyes. His eyes travel down your body before he tips his head slightly towards you. Immediately, you feel your skin heat up.

He is clad in a tailored black suit, broad shoulders stretching out his suit jacket so much that you could hear the fabric begging for mercy from where you stand. A white handkerchief folded neatly in the pocket of his suit jacket, black slacks down his legs. 

You could already tell he was a big and broad man. Probably manhandling every woman he’s ever been with. 

“Did you get the shot?” Gavin asks, pulling your attention away from the man across the room.

“I got it,” you nod slowly, taking a few more just for good measure.

Harry’s gaze still hasn’t moved from you, and for a brief moment, you wonder if this is how mice feel underneath a microscope. Their little bodies squirming as they’re being examined and experimented on against their will.

“You better fucking have,” Gavin states before he walks away from you.

Ignoring his comment, you take more pictures of Anastasia and Emiliano walking up to the small makeshift stage by the speakers. A microphone stand sits idly on it, waiting to be used for announcements. 

You may not be looking at Harry, but you can still feel his gaze on you. Briefly, you wonder what he’s thinking about, but then his father starts speaking.

“May I have your attention ladies and gentlemen. It is with great honor that I thank each and every one of you in this room tonight. My wife’s business would not be as successful as it is without the help of you all. We are extremely grateful for your commitment and dedication to the place we call home: Crown Castillo.

Friends, family, employees – all of you are important and valuable. All of our hands keep this place up and running, and that is what a found family is. I hope we all continue to have each other’s backs during the years to come. And please… enjoy yourselves tonight, and don’t forget that all the funds collected tonight are going towards charity.”

Emiliano and Anastasia raise their glasses of champagne before Ana continues, “To the Crown Castillo family.”

Everyone raises their glasses, repeating her words and going back to mingling. A handful of cameras flash, you and your coworkers getting hundreds of shots for the family and company. The more lively the photo, the better. You’ve learned over the years that these kinds of people appreciate the ‘vibe’ of the pictures more. If they look united, they’ll love the photos. 

You lower your camera, checking all of the photos you’ve gotten so far before a man walks up to you. “Excuse me,” he says, placing a hand on your bicep to get your attention. 

You look at his hand before you look up at him, “Can I help you, sir?”

He extends his hand out, introducing himself, “Lucas Taylor, Taylored Photography.”

Extending your hand out, you stare at him. He’s a recruiter, no doubt. With a company name that doesn’t even sound familiar to you, and you know all of the photography companies in New York. Emiliano didn’t tell you about another photographer being here, so you’re a little confused.

“I must say,” he puts his hands in his pockets, straightening his posture, “the photos you’ve taken thus far are beautiful.”

“How would you know?” you query, “You haven’t seen them… Lucas.”

He chuckles softly at your retort, nodding, “You’re right.” The heated look he’s giving you isn’t very subtle, and it makes you a bit uncomfortable. “I just wanted to tell you how breathtaking you look in that dress, miss…” Lucas trails off, trying to get you to tell him your name.

You press your lips into a fine line, getting ready to open your mouth, but Harry steps in next to you, placing a hand on your lower back. “You’re a little close, aren’t you?”

“Oh, I,” Lucas stammers, chuckling sheepishly, “I was just complimenting her on her-”

“I’d advise you to leave,” Harry states, his voice cold and calculated as he stares Lucas down.

Harry has a good few inches on Lucas, so he shrinks into his skin, murmuring something under his breath as he walks away. Immediately, you step away from Harry, the warmth of his hand leaving your back and sending a cold shiver up your spine.

“I didn’t need saving.”

“Really?” he draws out with a raised eyebrow, putting his hands in his pockets, “‘Cause it seemed like you were dying to be saved.”

His tease makes you narrow your eyes slightly, “I appreciate the act, but I can handle myself, Mr. Castillo—”

“Harry,” he corrects you, “I think we’re well past the formalities now, don’t you think?”

“What, because you ‘saved’ me?” you retort.

“That’s exactly why,” the corner of his lips tug up into a small smirk, making you roll your eyes.

“Look, I’m trying to do my job for your father. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to it now.”

Harry chuckles fondly, watching you raise your camera back up to your eyes. You have a good work ethic, which he admires. But he also wonders if you ever took a break and truly winded down. There’s a huge chance that you don’t do anything remotely close to what he does to wind down, but he feels the need to push your boundaries.

Throughout the night, his gaze keeps landing on you. Watching you mingle with guests, take pictures, talk to his parents, and sip your own glass of champagne. There’s just something so intriguing about you and how you carry yourself. It’s not surprising that he’s thinking with his dick first, but he feels some sort of pull towards you. Like something within the both of you is calling out to each other.

It’s been weeks. 

Harry hasn’t been able to get you off his mind. He doesn’t think he’s ever fucked his fist as often as he has lately. He’s done it at least four times today, and he’s painfully hard again, but he can’t wrap his hand around his cock without hissing. 

You’re taking over his mind, and you haven’t even really done anything. 

He’s looked up the photography company you work for to see if your number is anywhere on it, but the website only has the owner’s information on it. 

Asking his parents would be the easy thing to do, but he doesn’t want to raise their suspicions. They already hassle him enough about finding someone to marry, and he doesn’t need more of it.

As if the Gods were blessing him, he looks up from his desktop just in time to see you walking by. A black portfolio folder is in your arms as you walk swiftly towards his father’s office. You’re probably here to drop off the pictures, but Harry knows that his parents are out on a lunch date.

Without really thinking it through, he leaves his office, walking past the many cubicles while keeping his eyes trained on you. You’re on the opposite side and have yet to notice him, but he catches up to you just before you make it to his father’s office door. 

Just as you’re about to knock, Harry slides right in front of you, blocking the door with his broad frame. Your palm meets his chest instead of the door, causing warmth to bloom throughout his entire body.

“Hey you,” Harry says, putting his hands in his pockets like he wasn’t entirely in your way.

“Hi,” you reply tentatively, dropping your hand down to your side. “Is your dad here?”

“No, he’s out on lunch,” he averts your gaze for a moment, making eye contact with his assistant before he looks back down at you.

“Oh, I was told to drop off the pictures here,” you murmur, tucking your hair behind your ear as you take a step back. “I’ll just come back later—”

“I can look at them,” Harry says a little too quickly, clearing his throat and backing off the door, “I mean, this is my firm just as much as it is my parents’. Let me look at them.”

“Okay,” you draw out, handing him the portfolio, “Your dad can email me if you guys aren’t happy with the photos.”

“I’m sure we will be,” Harry states matter-of-factly, giving you a charming smile as he takes the folder from you. He holds it like it’s something sacred, “We can get this done now, if you want. Why waste more time on this?”

You ponder his request, biting the inside of your cheek. The instructions your boss gave you were to drop the photos off, get all information if changes needed to be made, get lunch, and come back to edit photos for another company. But with Emiliano gone, Harry is your best option right now.

Reluctantly, you agree, following him to his office. The look he and his assistant share isn’t lost on you as he closes the door, drawing the blinds as well, plunging the room in partial darkness as the sun spills in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

The cool leather quietly squeaks as you sit down across from his desk, watching him sit in his own chair and open the folder. He carefully studies each photo, not saying anything yet, but his dark eyes meet yours every now and then over the photographs. 

You shift under his heated gaze, crossing your leg over the other and sitting up straighter. 

Harry smirks faintly at your reaction, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you. “These look amazing,” he compliments, putting down the photographs to make eye contact with you.

You murmur a small thank you, intertwining your hands in your lap. “I’ll send them over to your father this afternoon so you guys can… do whatever you please with them.”

“And then we’re done?” he asks.

“And then we’re done,” you confirm, slowly nodding.

“So,” Harry starts, standing up to round his desk, “you won’t be working for my company anymore, right?” he asks, sitting on the edge of his desk – directly in front of you.

You can hear the frantic pulse of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. Though, you keep it strictly professional.

Harry’s eyes follow your movements as you stand, pressing his palms into his desk and looking at you with his big brown eyes. 

“That’s correct,” you confirm, straightening your posture and adjusting your suit jacket. “We won’t ever have to see each other again, Mr. Castillo.”

“Harry,” he corrects you again, “And who said anything about not seeing each other anymore?”

“I did.”

Harry huffs, shaking his head slowly, “You can be very disobedient. Someone outta teach you a lesson.”

Your eyes narrow by a fraction, taken aback by the sudden statement that came tumbling out of his mouth. “Is that what you tell all the women you sleep with?”

“I—”

“Women aren’t on this earth for men’s pleasure. We are people, and we have feelings,” you scoff.

Suddenly he stands, towering over you with his broad frame. But you don’t back down, standing your ground and looking up at him with a defiant look.

“I never told you anything about my sex life,” he states, his voice low.

“Aw, did I hit a nerve?” you pout, “I know you didn’t. I like to know the people that I work for, and it wasn’t that hard to find out about your… extracurricular activities, Mr. Castillo. Maybe you should make sure the women that you fuck are more tightlipped than they let on—”

Harry’s hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against the warmth of his body. You can feel his breath fanning over your face, his lips slightly agape as he stares down at you.

“Say one more thing,” he warns, eyes flicking to your lips momentarily. “I’m used to getting what I want, when I want it.”

“That must get very boring,” you tease with a tilt of your head. “You want me? Then earn it,” that’s all you leave it at before you step back from him, heading towards his office door. “Tell your father I said thank you for the opportunity,” a small smirk tugs at the corner of your lips, and then you’re gone.

Harry exhales harshly through his nose, running a hand through his curls as he’s left there: wanting you.

You gave him a challenge and he sure as hell isn’t going to back down.

Steam from your coffee mug curls around your laptop in lazy tendrils, patrons of the coffee shop chattering amongst themselves. The raised ceilings give the place a more open feel, the hissing of the espresso machines echoing throughout the building. 

Your friend, Samantha, sits across from you, telling you about her latest hookup. It’s some guy she met at a party a few months ago. They’ve been talking back and forth for a while and only recently decided to just bite the bullet and fuck.

She waves her hands around as she speaks, telling you in grave detail about the fun night she had.

“I think I blacked out at some point,” she mentions, prompting you to raise your brows in surprise.

“Jesus, Sammy,” you breathe out, astonished by the statement.

As the conversation goes on, she tries to press you into telling her about the last person you worked for.

“Have you heard from Harry?” she casually asks, earning narrowed eyes from you.

“Why would I have heard from him?”

“Because,” she draws out, lifting her coffee mug to her lips, “he definitely wanted to fuck you and you totally shot him down!”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “He’s just like every other rich asshole, Sam. He thinks he can walk all over people and expect them to polish his Italian shoes with their tongues. I don’t need anything like that.”

“So?” she shrugs, placing her elbows on the wooden table, “I bet he fucks like an animal.”

“Samantha,” you deadpan.

“What?” she feigns innocence, “He is a man that screams dominance in the bedroom. If you won’t get under him, I will.”

Against your will, a fire of possessiveness begins to burn in your gut, prompting you to narrow your eyes at your friend. She continues to talk, oblivious to the uneasiness you’re beginning to feel.

“It’s a crazy feeling being with someone that dominant and kinky,” she pauses, thinking. “Oo, maybe he has a sex dungeon—”

“Sam,” you shake your head once, “Enough.”

“I’m just saying,” her tone switches to something lighter, “maybe you’re missing out on what’s right in front of you.”

“Or maybe I dodged a bullet,” you tilt your head to the side slightly. “He’s like… in his 50s, Sam. You do know that, right?”

She shrugs, “Just because the wrapper is wrinkled, doesn’t mean the candy isn’t sweet.”

You raise your brows, amusement spreading across your face as you let out an incredulous chuckle. “You did not just say that. Do I need to take your phone away from you?”

“Probably,” she grimaces, “But seriously, he wants you. I don’t think you should let that go to waste.”

You press your lips into a fine line, hearing the murmurs of the cafe die down. Everyone’s gazes collectively fall to a single person who walks in, reeking of luxury and money. Like a moth to a flame, Samantha’s eyes lift as well.

You bite into your toast, the crunch a lot more audible than it should be in a busy cafe in New York. 

“Oh my God,” your friend murmurs, causing you to look up at her.

“What?” you ask, putting your hand over your mouth as you chew.

“Expensive looking hottie alert,” she states, nearly making you choke on your food.

You wipe the corner of your mouth, turning to look over your shoulder at who’s caught everyone’s attention. The world slows around you, Harry’s dark eyes locking onto yours as his signature smirk pulls at his lips.

“Wait, isn’t that—”

“Yes, it is,” you cut Sammy off, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as Harry begins to stalk towards you.

“Ladies,” Harry greets, nodding once towards your friend before his gaze locks onto yours. He crouches down to your level, so close that you can feel his breath fanning across your face. “Hi,” he murmurs to you, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“Hi,” you repeat his words, narrowing your eyes at him. “How the hell did you find me?”

Harry nods towards Samantha again, “Your friend posts a lot on social media.”

Of course.

“Look—“

“I just wanted to personally invite you to the Crown Castillo Black & White Gala,” he speaks lowly for your ears only. “But…” he trails off, reaching for a manilla envelope from the inside of his suit jacket, “I’d like you to look over something for me.”

“Is it regarding the photos I took?” you ask steadily, not looking away from his deep espresso eyes. 

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, drawing your eyes towards it. “Not necessarily, but it is business.”

You tilt your head to the side, “What—”

“Just think about it and have an answer by the night of the gala.” He hands you the envelope, standing up and straightening his suit jacket. “I look forward to doing business with you.”

The second you get to your apartment, the sound of the envelope ripping fills the empty space. You pull out a thick packet of white paper. The title page reads: “THE COMMENCEMENT DATE BETWEEN THE DOMINANT AND THE SUBMISSIVE”

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you blurt out immediately.

Your thoughts start to swarm as you glance through the pages, words like sex toys, gags, and whipping sticking out to you.

He wants you to be his sex slave?

Did he listen to a single word you told him in his office?

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out without thinking. A new email pops up on your lock screen, Harry Castillo being the obvious name as the sender.

The packet hits your kitchen counter with a sharp thud as you unlock your phone, quickly opening the email he sent.

“Good afternoon, I hope this email finds you well.”

You narrow your eyes at the first line before you continue reading.

“I hope you consider reading over the packet I left with you. Whatever you aren’t willing to do, I will accept immediately and set up a meeting to change them. Please read over everything. All I need is your written consent.”

You scoff, placing your phone face down on the counter, hands gripping the edge of it until your knuckles are white. Darkness envelops you when you close your eyes, your breathing picking up as you attempt (and fail) to process whatever the fuck you just read.

There’s no way this is real life, right? People don’t actually do this outside of movies.

Right?

The thick packet taunts you when you open your eyes, sticking out like a sore thumb in your peripheral vision. 

As the weeks go by, the contract sits untouched in your nightstand drawer. Harry emails you, but most of the time you don’t respond, earning desperate messages from him late at night. 

You don’t know what to think about the situation. Honestly, you thought everything you found out about him were all lies, but this seems pretty fucking real to you.

The night before the gala, you build up the courage to show up at his office. You briskly walk past the security, the packet held tightly against your chest as you reach for the elevator, repeatedly pressing the button for his floor until the doors close.

You exhale in relief once the security guards faces are no longer in view, leaning back against the back wall. Briefly, you look down at the contract again, the word submissive staring back at you.

That isn’t who you are. Isn’t who you were going to be.

You refused to bend yourself to a man’s will just to please him. It goes against everything you stand for.

The elevator dinging pulls you out of your thoughts, the doors sliding open to reveal his floor. It’s dark and quiet, nothing like the other times you’ve been here. Your heels echo in the space as you step out. 

Too loud. 

Too final.

You turn back around to leave but the doors close too quickly, sealing your decision.

A familiar voice calls out your name, you looking over your shoulder to see Harry’s assistant, Rick, walking towards you.

“Sorry,” you call for the elevator again before turning around to face him, “I shouldn’t have come here. I was just leaving—”

“Mr. Castillo will see you now.”

That catches your attention, the doors sliding open behind you and revealing the two security guards. Rick holds up his hand, signaling them away. “We’re fine here. She has an appointment.”

The men share a look, deciding it’s best not to say anything.

“Please, right this way, miss,” Rick beckons you to follow him.

You glance back at the two brawly men, figuring that it’s best not to get in the elevator with them since you technically just snuck into the building. Against your better judgement and your body screaming at you not to, you follow Rick to Harry’s office.

There’s nobody on the floor. Not even a single janitor in sight. It’s like a ghost town, or one of those horror movies that start off with a vulnerable woman left alone in an office building. Nine times out of ten, she ends up dead in her car.

Rick knocks on Harry’s closed office door twice before opening it. “Have fun.”

“Wait, you aren’t staying?” you ask quietly, watching him shake his head.

“I don’t work overtime.” With that, he gathers his things and heads back towards the elevator, leaving you alone with a stranger that asked you to be his submissive through a packet of paper.

You walk in slowly, noting that his eyes immediately dart down to your bare legs as he stands. He says your name, nodding in greeting. “I’ve been expecting you. Please, shut the door.”

Hesitantly, you close the door behind yourself, feeling like you’re sealing a deal without signing your signature.

“Why were you expecting me?” you ask, walking deeper into his office. The skyline of New York City gleams behind him, like diamonds against a dark sky.

He shrugs faintly, placing his hands in his pockets. “Women usually come around to these sorts of things.”

The statement nearly gives you whiplash, your fingers tightening around the contract before you toss it onto his desk with a sharp thwack.

“Is that what you think? That women want to be your little plaything?”

“It’s not about that,” Harry claims, rounding his desk to stand in front of you. “It’s more about… testing your limits. Seeing how far you’ll go, learning what pleases you—”

You hold out your hand, “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Harry goes quiet, allowing you the space to speak freely, “You tell me one thing, but the contract says another.”

“So you read it?” he asks.

“No, I only read the title page,” you explain. “Sex shouldn’t be a business deal. A relationship shouldn’t be a business deal.”

Harry weighs your words, rolling his tongue over his teeth. “I prefer the term fucking.”

“I didn’t ask.”

He chuckles faintly, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting on the edge of his desk. “If you want to change things in the contract—”

“No, you don’t get it,” you cut him off again, stepping closer, “I didn’t want it in the first place. Did our conversation in this very office just fly over your head?”

“No, it didn’t,” he claims, shaking his head slowly, “but I can tell that you want more from me.”

Harry stands slowly, closing the last bit of space between the two of you until you have to tilt your chin up to look at him directly. A faint smirk tugs at his lips, “What is it that you want? Money? Jewelry—”

“You can’t buy me, Harry,” you interrupt him. “I won’t sign your sex contract and I don’t want to see your face again.”

He nods once, “You came to my office at 9PM just to tell me that? Something you could’ve emailed me or told me over the phone.”

You roll your eyes.

“I mean, it’s a little much, don’t you think?” he asks.

“No, you’re right,” you take a slow step back, “Goodbye, Mr. Castillo.”

You turn around, exhaling through your nose as you begin to head for his office door. Before you can get too far, you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, spinning you around until you’re flush against his chest. The collision steals all the air from your lungs, hands instinctively coming up to steady yourself on his biceps. 

Harry’s breath mingles with yours, one of his hands coming up to cup the nape of your neck before he crashes his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

A sound of surprise leaves you, and without thinking, you push at him just enough to jostle him before your hand flies across his face. Your hand stings from the force of it, causing you to shake off the pain. Harry keeps his head turned to the side for a moment, his gaze dark when he looks back at you.

What you don’t expect is for him to spin the both of you around, sending everything on his desk flying before he bends you over it.

“Is this what you wanted, princess?” he rasps, breath hot against your ear as he hikes up your skirt.

“Harry—” a low moan cuts you off when he sucks at your pulse point, the rapid flutter of your heartbeat quivering in between his teeth.

He slips his foot between your legs, kicking them apart before he delivers a harsh smack to your ass. You jolt forward upon impact, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. He soothes the plush skin, rubbing his hand along the red spot that’s started to bloom from the force of his palm.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs in your ear, the metallic rattle of his belt unbuckling filling the office. 

“This is a bad idea,” you weakly protest. Though, you make absolutely no effort to move.

“Really?” he taunts, dropping his slacks and boxers in one go. “You’re saying one thing… but your body is saying another,” he repeats what you said in his own twisted way, peeling your lacy panties to the side.

The cool air hits your slick heat, sending a shiver throughout your body. You know this shouldn’t happen. Fuck, you shouldn’t have even shown up here tonight. But then he swipes the tip of his cock through your folds, parting them, smearing your slick as well as his precum. 

His hand is steady on your hip, the other gripping the base of himself as he repeatedly stimulates your clit with his swollen tip until your knees nearly buckle. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, “you’re so pretty.”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” you quip.

Harry chuckles darkly, shoving himself in, the stretch stealing the air from your lungs as you both moan in unison. He doesn’t give you time to adjust to his girth before he’s fucking you raw. The obscene slap of wet skin against each other fills the space of the office, his breathy grunts behind you stirring you on.

Push him back, you repeat in your head over and over again. It feels so right, like the Earth’s axis has finally shifted into place as your slick velvet walls greedily suck him in deeper. But you know this shouldn’t be happening – you worked for his family, he left a fucking sex contract with you, and he’s the most cocky son of a bitch you’ve ever met.

Not to mention, absolutely infuriating.

But he feels too good, angling his hips to reach parts of you that have never been touched before. You’ll get your fill just this once, you tell yourself, succumbing to the feeling of him splitting you open.

“Look at you,” he purrs, “taking my cock so well, baby.” Another gasp comes tumbling from your lips when he smacks the supple skin of your ass, watching it ripple with every deep thrust.

The ruthless pace has you mewling, arching your back until your arms are straight forward across the surface of his desk. Harry wraps your hair around his hand, using it to pull your head back and fuck you harder.

“Yesyesyes,” you chant, your jaw going slack, the sting of your hair being pulled, an odd but welcome sensation.

Harry’s other hand slides up to your waist, indenting his fingertips into your skin. “Is this how you like it?” he punctuates between thrusts, “I knew you’d be fucking perfect.”

For now, you ignore the comment, too focused on your pending orgasm and the roaring of your blood rushing in your ears. “Ohh, fuck,” you slur, feeling every ridge of his cock stimulate your sensitive spots perfectly – like it was made to ruin you specifically.

He groans, gritting his teeth as your walls squeeze his shaft. Without much warning, he hooks his forearm under you, lifting your upper body towards his. His hot breath fans over your ear, deep grunts telling you he’s just as affected as you are.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growls, tugging at your blouse until your tits spill free. Roughly, he takes one in his warm palm, massaging the soft skin and rolling your peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

You lean your head back on his shoulder, closing your eyes and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth when his hand leaves your waist to wrap around your throat. He squeezes gently, feeling the frantic pulse of your heartbeat under the pads of his fingers.

“Harry,” you whimper, heat pooling low in your abdomen as you near your peak.

“Shit,” he hisses, your walls pulsing and squeezing him just right. “You gonna come for me?” he rasps, slipping his hand between your legs to circle your swollen clit. 

Your vision goes blurry around the edges, incoherent moans toppling out of your lips as shockwaves spark through your body in fast-rising surges. Blood roars in your ears, your body threatening to double over, but Harry holds you tightly to his heaving chest.

He lets out a ragged groan, bending you back over the desk and pulling out just in time to release his thick, hot, white spurts of cum. He shudders through his orgasm, fucking his fist until he has nothing left to give.

The room stills, both of you breathing heavily from your equally intense climaxes. Your heart pounds in your ears, mind a little hazy and not fully coherent as you lift yourself up, palms pressing into the desk.

Harry pulls up his boxers and slacks, grabbing the box of tissues on his desk to clean up the mess he made.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks quietly when you don’t speak, watching you adjust your clothes and hair back into place.

“No,” you shake your head, turning around to face him, “it was good.”

He hums in acknowledgement, “So will I see you tomorrow night?”

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out just yet. Honestly, you hadn’t thought about whether or not you would go to the gala. What would you even do there besides accompany him and fulfill his… needs?

“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

Harry steps closer, closing the distance between the two of you and placing his hands on the desk behind you. This way, you have to tilt your chin up to meet his eyes.

“You should go,” he murmurs, leaning in to press his plush lips to yours, giving you a tender kiss that you didn’t think he was capable of. 

Despite yourself, warmth blooms in your chest, leaving you wanting more. 

Everything feels wrong: your heels are too uncomfortable, dress too tight – too long, jewelry too heavy.

You felt completely out of place. This isn’t your crowd. You’re always the one in the back, a professional black dress and pumps on your body, camera in hand while you blend in with the wall. 

You’ve never been in the sea of people you take pictures of.

The building is 24 stories, drowning in exquisite taste and class – something you definitely missed the lesson on in school. Chandeliers scream money, reflecting off the lights and the diamonds dangling from women's necks. 

Soft jazz music fills the lobby, creating an alluring atmosphere that eases your nerves for the moment. 

A worker offers to take your coat, hanging it up with the rest when you give it to him. You feel exposed, anxiety rising once more now that your dress is revealed. It was a black off-the-shoulder dress, the back of it stopping in the middle of your back. 

Goosebumps sprinkle across your skin, shrinking you into your own warmth as you take cautious steps towards the grand double doors. Your heels clack on the marble floors, echoing in your ears.

Inside, classical music drifts through the air, strangers chatting too loudly and overlapping one another. 

What the fuck were you doing here?

This isn’t your scene and you’re already going against your morals – stepping out of your comfort zone because a man asked you to.

On instinct, you stick close to the back wall, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, but also not wanting to intrude. 

Neither Harry or his family are anywhere to be seen, tempting you to leave before you’re noticed by anyone.

Servers pass by, not giving you a second glance as you practically hug the wall. One walks by holding glasses of champagne and you don’t hesitate to grab one, hoping the fizzy beverage will ease your racing heart.

It’s just a party, you tell yourself. Hell, not even a party, this could pass as someone’s fucking wedding reception.

Just before you burrow deeper into your inner turmoil, everyone goes silent – even the music. Someone on a microphone somewhere introduces the Castillo family and everyone claps. You look around for a moment, lost, before you tuck your clutch under your arm and clap along with them; careful of your glass of champagne.

“Happy birthday, Mrs. Castillo!”

“Happy birthday, Ana!”

People begin shouting out, the older woman laughing and wrapping an arm around her husband.

Harry invited you to his mother’s birthday party and acted like it was just another annual gala.

Jesus Christ.

After a while, you manage to make your way to the bar, successfully ignoring Harry to the best of your abilities. You don’t move from your spot until he disappears into the crowd and you’re 100% sure he can’t see you.

You order a vodka martini, downing it pretty quickly before you pop the olive in your mouth. The sting tingles your throat, causing you to clear it into your hand, ordering another one.

“There you are,” a familiar voice says behind you, placing his forearms on the counter. “You’re avoiding me.”

You stand up straighter, rolling a toothpick in between your fingers. “Am I?” you query, tilting your head to the side. “You don’t even know how long I’ve–”

“I noticed you the second I walked in,” Harry cuts you off, rendering you speechless for a second.

He chuckles when you don’t respond, another glass being replaced with your empty one. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“A little, yeah,” you murmur, nodding before you sip on your drink.

Harry watches your throat work when you swallow, his mind going to more impure places. “You wanna get out of here?”

You raise your brows, “Isn’t this your mom’s party?” you pause, leaning in and lowering your voice. “Y’know, I don’t appreciate how you blindsided me with that, by the way. I would’ve brought a present.”

He chuckles, straightening up and looking down at you. “Now where would the fun be in that?” he asks, pausing before adding, “Plus, you didn’t need to. My mom already adores you.”

Surprise flashes across your face before you remember that you worked with her and her husband – not just Harry. “Well, she was lovely to work for,” you murmur.

“So what do you say?” he asks, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

Your skin tingles, not only from his tone of voice, but also from his proximity. In order to keep your sanity, you press your palm against his chest, pushing him just a bit. “Just because we had sex doesn’t mean that we’re together now.”

“Really?” he draws out, straightening up and placing his hands in his pockets. “So you’re not gonna go home with me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

The city of New York twinkles below, reflecting in your irises. There hasn’t been a time where you’ve seen the city like this: so high up and a lot clearer. 

“You can see most of the city from here,” you murmur to Harry once he steps behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and turning you around.

“Wouldn’t you rather look at me?” he teases, earning an eye roll from you.

“You do that a lot,” he points out.

“Do what?”

“Roll your eyes at me.”

A small smirk tugs at your lips, “And you’ve deserved it every single time.”

Harry’s hands tighten on your waist, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his body. “Have you thought about the contract anymore?”

Your expression falters, opening your mouth but nothing comes out. In your hasty escape from his office last night, you completely forgot about the contract. “No, because I don’t have it anymore. Plus, I already told you my answer.”

His eyes narrow by a fraction before he pulls you by your wrist, leading you up the stairs in his penthouse. 

“Harry,” you try to get him to stop, but he tightens his grip on your wrist.

“I just need you to see,” he states, stopping in front of a locked door and fishing the key out of his pocket.

The lock clicks, your heart races, practically in your throat as he opens the door. Lights slowly turn on, reflecting off of the deep red of the walls. Harry gestures for you to go first, and your breath catches in your throat when you step inside. 

“Oh, my God,” you whisper, your body going rigid, the shock evident on your face. 

A king-size bed sits in the middle of the room, gold hoops attached to the four bedposts. The walls look like a horrific murder scene, a wine red making everything seem more intense and unnerving.

“This is my playroom,” Harry announces.

Your eyes are wide, lips agape as you assess the sight in front of you. “Yeah, I can see that,” you breathe, “Jesus Christ, Harry–”

“Before you start,” he cuts you off, “just look around. Nothing in here can harm you, I promise.”

You glance at him sideways before he stands off to the side, giving you free reign to look around. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to figure out what you’re looking at. Hesitantly, you put one foot in front of the other, heels clacking against the hardwood floor.

The wall on your right is lined with various paddles and sensory toys. A rack of items you’ve never seen before sits in front of the bed, and without really thinking, you run your fingers through the rough material.

“That’s called a flogger,” Harry informs you, moving to hover beside you.

You snatch your hand back like you’ve been burned, suddenly remembering his reputation and the other women he’s most likely used this stuff on. Crossing your arms over your chest, you move on, examining the various cuffs and gag toys he has.

“Say something,” he murmurs, “Please.”

You take a deep breath, tilting your head back to look at the ceiling as you muster up the courage to even open your mouth again. Only, you realize that the expanse of the ceiling is covered in a metal grid system. Bondage is the first thing you think of.

You knew he was kinky, you just didn’t know how kinky… Until now, that is.

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

This has never been something you’ve been remotely interested in, and now it is right in your face. 

Finally, you look back at Harry. “You do this stuff to women?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

“Yes,” he confirms, “but everyone walks away happy.”

“H-How?” you stammer, some of your willpower returning to your body. “You’re a sadist.”

“Dominant,” Harry corrects you, earning an eye roll from you. “That right there,” he points at you, “If you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.”

“Excuse me?” you chuckle breathlessly, crossing your arms tighter across your chest. “By definition, you are a sadist. You get off on people’s pain.”

“It’s not that,” he states, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I told you: it’s all about testing limits.”

“Why?” you shrug, “Why would you want to…” you gesture towards the dangling whips on the opposite wall, “use these kinds of things on people?”

“For pleasure,” he answers like it’s completely obvious.

You shake your head slowly, “You can’t just enjoy regular sex like everyone else?”

When he doesn’t answer, you continue. “I don’t know what you want from me, but I sure as hell know that this isn’t a relationship.”

“I never said anything about a relationship.”

That’s what gets you. Your brows knit, an unfamiliar ache settling in your heart. “Then what the fuck are you doing with me?”

Instead of answering, he grabs a silk ribbon from a drawer, walking back over to you. “Hold out your wrists,” he instructs.

You glare up at him, and he senses your defiance. “I’m not gonna use them to force you into anything, I promise.”

To make sure he knows you don’t want to do this, you continue glaring at him as you slowly hold out both wrists. His signature smirk pulls at his lips, his hands deftly tying the red silk around you. Once tied, he tugs harshly, pulling a gasp from your lips.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“No,” you whisper, meeting his eyes. “No, it doesn’t.”

“All the fear is in your head,” he voices firmly, letting the silk slip from your wrists.

A thought pops into your mind as you drop your hands to your sides. “If you want to… continue having sex with me, then why can’t we be together?”

“This is the only kind of relationship I associate myself with.”

Confusion stretches across your face, your brows furrowing as you try to see through his facade. He’s telling you one thing, but the way he’s acting is the complete opposite. He almost seems… obsessed with you; he hasn’t left you alone for months, he tracked you down via Samantha’s Instagram stories, and now he is trying to force a contract on you to keep you.

To you, it seems like he enjoys the thrill of the chase rather than anything else.

“How many women have you done this with?”

All you know is what you and your friend could find on the internet, and honestly, it wasn’t much. News outlets are very vague when it comes to Harry Castillo’s personal relationships, and it makes you curious.

He tosses the ribbon onto the bed, placing his hands in his pockets. “Let’s not go there right now.”

“Why not?” you push gently, closing the distance between the two of you, only for him to suddenly take a step back.

Oh, is all you can think as you stare up at him, trying to read between the lines of what he’s not telling you.

“How many?” you repeat your question earnestly, keeping your place.

Harry rolls his tongue over his teeth, “Twenty.”

“Twenty?” you breathe, all of the air leaving your lungs at once. “Christ, Fabio,” you joke, deflecting the situation.

Your mind swims within multiple questions.

Who’s to say that there won’t be twenty more after you?

How has his dick not fallen off?

Do you need to get tested?

The two of you fucked raw on his desk. You should definitely get tested.

Harry doesn’t laugh at your joke, his face remains serious. “It’s the way I am.”

“Why?” you ask quietly, almost scared of the answer.

His lips press into a fine line, avoiding your gaze for a moment. Abruptly, he grabs you by your upper arm, leading you out of the room and locking up behind the two of you. 

In the hallway, you can think clearly, not intimidated by the actual sex dungeon you were just in. You swallow thickly when he turns to face you, he seems steady but his eyes tell you otherwise. There’s the smallest hint of vulnerability in them, and it’s gone the moment you notice it.

“Be honest with me,” Harry says, “what are you thinking?”

You exhale sharply. What are you supposed to think after being shown that? It is the exact opposite of what you firmly stand on, but he seems set in his own ways.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, heading for the stairs. “That’s… a lot to take in,” you look over your shoulder, seeing that he’s following a few steps behind you.

“If you don’t want anything to do with me anymore,” he stops at the end of the hallway, looking down at you, “that’s completely fine.”

You know he’s not fine with it, but you appreciate the statement more than you’d ever let on. “I just,” you start, trying to find the right words as you process what he showed you, “I don’t think I can do that: bend to the will of someone else. That’s not me.”

He nods slowly, his eyes mimicking a puppy. It’s almost enough to make you change your mind.

Almost.

“I can’t be one of your girls – I won’t.”

part 2

a/n: i couldn't find anything like this so i wrote it myself 🌝 ive genuinely only been thinking about fifty shades since i watched it in december and Harry was the perfect character to write something related to those movies on. this isn't like anything else ive written so im stepping out of my comfort zone a bit here 😅 but i hope you enjoyed reading it. feedback is much appreciated! (part 2 soon i hope lmao)

᯽ tags: @missladym1981 , @kirsteng42 , @mcthsman , @petalsinblood , @rosharanfiction , @cherrycokeispunk , @cuteanimalmama , @harriedandharassed , @madpanda75 , @shadowqueen2024 , @picketniffler , @kokoluwie , @reedispunk , @umadirectioner , @katyispunk , @missadangel , @time-for-my-weekly-spanking , @missadangel , @stylesispunk , @milla-frenchy , @gothcsz , @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 , @sunshineflowersandkisses

dividers by @/angeliicide

Another Sunday, another boring barbecue that your husband has planned, but hasn’t lifted a fucking finger to help with other than firing up the grill and turning the burgers to charcoal. Kiss the chef? Puh-leez.

Here you are, working your ass off while he and his guy friends get drunk and passionately talk about their fantasy football leagues or whatever. You wish he was that passionate about other things, namely you. You’re lucky if you get anything other than 3-minute missionary these days before he rolls over and falls asleep, leaving you to finish yourself off each and every time.

You’re glaring daggers at the back of his head right now, he’s having fun while you’re stuck talking to Randy’s wife. God, Lorraine is such a bore, you’re not entirely paying attention to her, just nod along, throw in a few ‘Oh yeah, really’s’ and you’re golden. She’s following you around the yard like a yappy little puppy while you’re busy tossing empty beer bottles and half eaten burgers into the trash bag in your hands, no offer of help either just ‘me, me, me’.

 You’re sure your ear drums will burst though if you hear her screech at her damn kids again.

And sure enough, right on cue “RJ! Mary! Put that down right n—” She’s stopped talking? Hallelujah! Have your prayers been answered? “Who the fuck invited him?” You stop what you’re doing to look up and follow her eye line across the yard to the back gate.

There he is, fashionably late as ever. Javier Peña. You’d been best friends in high school, lost touch when he took the DEA job in Colombia unfortunately. But ever since he’s been back and now working for the Loredo Sheriffs Department, where you also work, that friendship has reignited, along with some old feelings you’ve been desperately trying to ignore. Which is pretty difficult when he looks like that.

Strutting into the yard like he owns the place, the insane shoulder to waist ratio on him is only accentuated further by the form fitting dark wash jeans and tailored white shirt combo. That fucking shirt. The first few buttons are casually undone at the top leaving a delicious golden and freckled triangle of skin peeking out. Short sleeved to show off his toned arms. He doesn’t do it often in the office, but if he’s wearing a shirt like that there, your favourite pass time is watching him lift shit. You’ll be sitting at your desk, throwing subtle glances at him while he’s carrying a big box of files, chewing the end of your pen until there are visible teeth indents in the plastic. His biceps literally strain against the fabric, once of these days it’ll rip. Oh no, wouldn’t want that would we?

Jesus Christ. It’s been too long since you were really properly fucked and you really shouldn’t be looking at him like that. Although.... No, bad!

His presence really is commanding though, Lorraine may hate his guts over shit that happened in the past (even though she says she’s over it) but honestly? Javi is pretty well liked and well respected around Loredo, more so since coming home, much to his dismay. He hates being in the spotlight and made out to be a hero, at least you don’t try and suck up to him like that. That’s probably why the friendship has been so easy to slip back into.

All the previous fantasy football club talk has ceased now, the half a dozen-or-so-table of men are now up and moving to swarm him, greeting him with claps on the shoulder and handshakes, kissing his ass like he’s the messiah or something. Javier’s hating every second of it, you can see it on his face, the uncomfortable smile and the subtle eye roll when one of the guys calls him the ‘hometown hero’.

And then he sees you. He throws you the most puppy dog eyed ‘please save me from this torture’ look he can and you can barely contain your amusement, pursing your lips to hold back the grin.

You’re already moving, shoving the trash bag into Lorraine’s hand without a second thought “Sorry Lorraine, nice talking to you, really hope little Mandy’s recital goes okay!”

“Uh? Thanks? And it’s Mary!” She calls out to you, left standing perplexed and alone with the trash bag in hand.

Mandy. Randy. Mary? Easy mistake to make.

You’re subtly nodding your head towards the house, keeping eye contact with Javier, swiping up the empty punch bowl on the way. Over your shoulder you can hear Javier excusing himself to use the bathroom as you slide the patio door open and step back into the kitchen away from prying eyes.

The bowl gets set down on the faux-granite counter with a hollow thud, now completely unable to hide your amusement when Javier walks in through the door grumbling under his breath. “You’re late Peña. You missed out on some juicy burgers today!”

“Yeah right, I saw the ones that were left to die on the grill, they looked like hockey pucks. You make this? This safe to eat?” Javier leans over you to grab a lemon bar off the counter beside you, his chest brushing against your back. He’s close you can smell the aftershave you bought him for Secret Santa last year, you know it’s that one because you bought your husband the same one, he hardly ever wears it though. Not Javi, he loved it and wears it all the time now.

“Yeah they’re safe, although I didn’t make ‘em. Lorraine did, she’d probably have put poison in them if she knew you were coming today” the rich sound of his chuckle behind you has the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. You busy yourself with mixing a new bowl of punch while trying not to think about how easy it would be to lift your skirt and beg for it from him right here in your kitchen with all your friends and their families outside, as well as your husband.

Then he’s gone, moving to lean against the counter beside you instead, watching you cutting up oranges to throw into the bowl, completely oblivious to the filthy thoughts that plague your mind. The loss of his body near yours should be a relief but it’s not, it just makes the ache between your legs more apparent. You push your thighs together a little tighter, trying to get some kind of relief. Luckily, Javier doesn’t seem to pick up on your sexually frustrated distress, too busy complaining about the lemon bar he’s eating being ‘drier than the Sahara desert’ but still going for another bite. You know what’s not dry right now? Stop that!

Just focus on slicing the oranges, easier said than done when you can see him in your peripheral licking his fingers clean. It’s not even inherently sexy but because Javiers  doing it? It’s the equivalent of a man watching a woman eating a banana, there’s absolutely nothing that should be turning you on but it just is.

Just keep slicing, pretend he’s not there. Ignore the horny goblin voice in your brain.

“So...” Well there goes that idea “I take it things between you and the old ball and chain are stale again?”

Your head whips in his direction so fast that it’s almost dizzying, one brow raised “What? No! Why would you say that?” if you were trying to sound convincing you may have not wanted to answer so quickly, you realise, cringing internally as you turn your attention back to the chopping board, letting your hair fall in front of your face so Javier can’t see the grimacing expression.

Just keep slicing.

“Well for starters, you’re wearing one of your ‘fuck me dresses’.”

The knife slips in your hand, narrowly avoiding slicing off the tip of your finger, instead carving a deep groove into the wooden cutting board underneath “Javier!? What the fuck?” You shoot him with an incredulous scowl, in disbelief that those words actually just left his mouth, although this is Javier Peña. In the twenty-something years you've known him, he's never been one to mince his words, why would he start now? “This isn't a 'Fuck me' dress, I don't own 'Fuck me' dresses”

Javier just rolls his eyes, mirth in his expression as he reaches over to steal one of the orange slices off the now-maimed cutting board “Sure you do! Used t'own a buncha them in college” Javier tells you with confident cockiness between sucking on the orange slice. He must be doing it on purpose! “First time I've seen you wearing one recently though. That bad, huh?” He's mocking you now, fucking asshole.

“For your information...” You start with a small huff, gathering up the slices and tossing them into the bowl before he can do anything else that may be accidentally sexy. “Our sex life is just fine, and it's none of your business” You brush by him, needing to grab the sangria mix out of the refrigerator and you swear you can feel his eyes on your ass the whole time.

“I'm just saying!” Even with your back to him, you know he's smirking, you can hear it in his voice “Well if I were the lucky man that got to take you to bed every night, then I'm telling you right now, that dress would work on me”

You're glad he can't see your face right now as you're pretending to root around in the fridge, because if he could he'd see your flustered expression and he'd notice the way you needed to take a extra breath because those words alone sucked all the air out of your lungs. Your husband didn't even notice the dress, he doesn't notice a lot of things about you any more actually, so its no wonder you're stuck with 'dead bedroom syndrome'.

Maybe Javier was right, maybe it was a 'fuck me dress', its a little bit shorter and a flirter style than what you'd usually go for, but you didn't buy it with your husband in mind. No, you'd made a conscious decision back at the outlet mall when you'd picked it up off the rack a few weeks ago, knowing barbecue season was coming up and that you'd be inviting Javier to at least a few of them. You were wearing it for him. Not that you'd ever admit it out loud.

Once you've given yourself enough time for your composure to return, you turn around, sangria mix in hand, kicking the fridge door closed with your foot. “So? I wanted to look nice, is that a crime? I am capable of that, you know? 'Looking nice'. I might live in pant suits at the office, but I do like to dress up from time to time. Remind myself that I'm not some frumpy old hausfrau just yet” You stride past him, going back to the punch bowl. You'll need a huge glass of this yourself after this  particular conversation, that's for sure.

“Oh trust me, cariño, I can see that.” You risk a glance over at him and catch him eyeballing you shamelessly, specifically lingering on your legs and the curve of your ass. Javier has always been flirty, but christ he’s laying it on thick today. “But, you aren't denying it either. C'mon you can tell me. What is it? Can he not get it up any more? Its normal, happens to a lot of guys when they get older, well not me but... so I've heard” That is not a thought you wanted or needed in your already morally corrupt brain, while that wasn't the problem in your marriage, or your sex life, the knowledge that Javier has just dropped on you may just be adding to it.

“No. That's not the issue” It comes out as a mumble from you, grabbing a big mixing spoon, watching the spiked punch swirl with the zesty orange slices that nearly cost you your fingertip.

“Oh? Then what is?” Javier actually sounds genuinely curious now, any earlier teasing is gone, you see him out of the corner of your eye sliding a little closer. You used to tell this man all your deepest, darkest secrets as a teenager. Skipping lessons to hang out under the bleachers and share the cigarettes he'd stolen from his Pops' stash. Well, almost everything, you never told him about the big fat crush you had on him or the way you'd practice your signature with the Peña last name in the back of your diary, locked and tucked away under your mattress for no one else's eyes but yours. But, you're not 17 any more and you're married to someone else, you're last name isn't  Peña and it never will be.

Part of you can't help indulging in this dangerous game though, opening up to him is akin to opening up a can of worms, crossing a line that you can't uncross.

“Fine. But this stays between us, okay?” You tell him with stern emphasis, making sure he knows this information doesn't leave the kitchen.

“Yeah sure”

You're not convinced, obviously you trust him but the last thing you want is your sex life to become water cooler topic at work, its hard enough working in a mostly male environment without smarmy comments being thrown into it too.

“Cross your heart?”

Javiers lips stretch into a lopsided grin, one that brings out his irresistible dimple and simultaneously makes your heart leap “Really? You're bringing out the big guns for this one huh?” He remembers all those times under the bleachers, of course he does. They're some of the fondest memories he has of home before it all went to shit, before Lorraine, before he lost his beloved Mamá . Whenever you were extra nervous about telling him something, you'd make him cross his heart and for some reason, it put you at ease, so he happily indulged you in it and he'll do it again now. Javier lifts his hand to his chest “Cross my heart” He says as he does the action along with it.

Your lips twist as you watch him, letting out a small sigh once you feel confident enough that he means it. “Things... things are just a little... dull these days I guess? I don't know.”

“Dull? Gonna need some elaboration on that one cariño.” Of course he does. Pervert.

“Fine. Okay um... I don’t know it’s just... We’ve kind of lost that spark y’know? I don’t know when it happened but it’s just not there anymore. We live together but we’re leading separate lives and he doesn’t even seem bothered about it. The saddest part is that I don’t think I’m all that bothered either, truthfully.” It instantly feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, saying all this out loud, the thoughts that have been tucked away in your mind for so long, finally being set free.

Javier isn’t usually the mushy, ‘talk about your feelings’ kind of guy, but with you he’s always made time to be that guy. Even when he was away in Colombia and you only heard from him through sporadic phone calls or the odd letter here and there, he wanted to be there for you.

“Oh Cariño, I’m so sorry.” And he really is, you can tell he means it. His hand is on your shoulder now, rubbing his thumb soothingly over your skin there. You love and hate the way it sends a thrill through you to have him touching you like this, to feel the rough, working hand against the contrasting soft, smoothness of your body. “I’m gonna say something now and I want you to hear me out before you punch me in the dick, okay?” Javier has always had a knack for making you laugh in serious situations, this one is no different, the two of you letting out matching chuckles.

“Alright, lay it on me Peña, I’ll hold off on dick punches... For now.” The banter between the two of you is easy, it always has been and it’s driving you insane!

“Well... Buddy of mine, you don’t know him so no point naming names... He said when he and his wife were going through a rough patch, they did this thing where they found other couples and like... Swapped partners. Sounded kind of hot. Y’think that might be the kind of thing you guys would be into?”

“You mean swinging? I-I dunno Javi that’s a little too out there for me.”

“Alright well maybe not that then but uh... What about having a open marriage? Read about that somewhere. You have an agreement on both sides that you can fuck other people and no one gets hurt. Win win.”

“You know for someone who’s not even married himself, you sure know a lot about ethical ways to cheat on your spouse” You muse while the little voice in your brain is acting up again telling you that the second option isn’t such a bad idea and you have just the person in mind for it.

Javier doesn’t even realise that his hands still on you, though it’s moved from your shoulder to the middle of your back, gently stroking his knuckles up and down your spine, making you feel tingly all over “It’s not cheating if you both agree upon it and set boundaries, right?”

“I’m married” You state matter-of-factly like he had no prior knowledge of what this conversation was about and like you haven’t been having inappropriate thoughts about your best friend every day since he came back from Colombia. The real catalyst to why your marriage has gone into the pits.

“Happily?” Javier shoots back without missing a beat, it catches you off guard, you don’t expect one word posed as an innocent question to fuck up your day so exponentially, but here you are. His hand has stilled on your back, now laying his big palm flat against the curve of your spine. You can feel the heat through the thin material of your dress. It’s too much. Everything, it’s all too much.

You’re moving fast now, picking up the punch bowl and shoving it into his midsection, forcing him to take it from you. “I-I- I need to use the bathroom. Put this outside for me? I’ll be back out soon.” You don’t even give him a chance to respond, already walking away through the kitchen and into the living room, disappearing upstairs to seek solace in the bathroom. Javier’s left standing in your kitchen, clutching the punchbowl with a jumble of emotions swirling through him. He felt it, he’s always felt it and now might be his opening, no matter how wrong it might be.

  ///

You lose track of how long you’re in the bathroom for, spending a good chunk of that time shallowly pacing the floor, chewing a new divot into the skin beside your thumbnail.

All you can think about is Javier. The weight of his words and how badly you crave his hands on you, his mouth on you. How undeniable it is that you have these unnamed feelings for him and impossible it is to ignore the throbbing, sticky heat between your legs right now.

You shouldn’t, but you are. Leaning back against the bathroom counter with the faucet on full blast to cover any noises you might make, legs parted just enough to access all the aching, disregarded parts of your body with your skirt hiked up on one side. You slide two fingers over the front of your panties – a lacy black pair that haven’t seen the light of day in years – your cunt twitches at that slight touch, begging for more. They’re already drenched, a product of your imagination and Javier’s proximity to you downstairs. You can just get yourself off, wash your hands, go right back to the barbecue and seduce your husband into having disappointing sex later to assuage your guilt.

Your eyes close as you pull your panties to the side, imagining this is Javier right here with you. Slowly, you drag your middle and index finger through your slick folds, taking your time just like you imagine he would. His fingers wouldn’t he this gentle though, as much as you try to pretend this is Javier, it’ll never be Javier. Still, a little fantasising never hurt anyone, right?

///

You’ve been away from the barbecue for far too long, somehow Javier found himself getting roped into going to play a round of golf with Randy and your husband next weekend. He fucking hates golf and the thought of being stuck with his ex fiancé’s husband and yours for the day, isn’t exactly his idea of fun, but without you there to save him, he went ahead and agreed to it. Well done Peña.

What the fuck could you be doing anyway? He knew that the moment between the two of you in the kitchen had upset you and as much as he was trying to give you some space, he also didn’t want it to come across like he didn’t give a shit, because he did. He really, really did.

Which is why Javier’s excusing himself again, going off to check on you. Your husband hadn’t even clocked that you were gone and Javier couldn’t fathom that, simply because he feels every second of his day that isn’t filled with you. He feels it in every room he enters when you aren’t there and he feels it late at night when he’s alone in his bed, plagued with thoughts of you.

He takes the stairs two at a time, the sound of the music and chatter from the barbecue outside dulling to a distant murmur as he reaches the top of the stairs. The bathroom is straight on from the top step and from here he can hear the sound of running water, maybe you’re finally about to come down, he thinks.

He’ll check on you anyway, try and talk to you before you both re-join the ‘fun’. Javier walks unhurriedly down the hall, stopping outside the bathroom door, he’s just raised his hand about to knock, when he hears it. He hears you moan. It’s quiet and restrained and he realises the running water was to cover what you’re doing in there. His cock is already twitching in his pants.

But no, you can’t possibly be doing that right now, surely?

Then he hears it again, confirming his suspicions. Oh fuck, he should walk away now, pretend he didn’t hear anything and he’ll call you later or something.

“Javi”

But then you go and do that and suddenly his feet feel like they’re encased in cement and he can’t move from the spot. You just moaned his name. His. Not your husband’s, but his.

This is fucked up. This whole thing is wrong but it just feels so right. He definitely shouldn’t be listening in on you like this but you shouldn’t be fantasising about him while you’re fucking yourself either.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, he does. A lot, so often that even the thought of your name gets him half hard sometimes. And this little incident isn’t the first time he’s accidently overheard you in the heat of the moment either.

This all reminds him of the time back in college when you came to visit him, you’d finished early for the semester before him and decided to surprise him with a visit. It was one of the best weeks of his life, in-between one of his many relationship breaks with Lorraine, you’d showed up with a backpack full of booze and an overnight bag that may as well have been filled with scraps of fabric because the night shirts you wore to bed were all crazy short. He’d never jerked off so much in his whole life, sneaking off to the bathroom after you fell asleep to rub one out, he thought about you sleeping in his bed like that, he thought about how he’d bunch the fabric of that shirt in-between his fingers and grip it while he fucked you side on.

But that never happened, you were just friends and he was a stupid twenty year old guy who couldn’t see what was right in front of his face.

He let you take the bed that week while he slept on the floor, you’d tried to insist on him sharing the bed with you but he didn’t, he couldn’t, for the sake of his sanity and despite all her flaws, he didn’t want to disrespect Lorraine like that, even if their relationship was tumultuous, at best.

Young Javi wouldn’t have understood the irony that. Not sharing a bed because you don’t trust yourself not to make a move, but you’ll happily go jack off over this girl while she’s asleep in the next room. Dumbass.

One night, you were feeling homesick and struggling to sleep, Javier could hear you tossing and turning in the bed and he was about to tell you to shut up and stop moving when he heard it for the first time. The little whimpers in the dark that were familiar to his ears but from other girls, Lorraine, not you. Never you.

But there you were, pleasuring yourself quietly in his bed. Even then he knew he shouldn’t have been listening but he couldn’t help it, he laid silent and hard as a rock in the dark listening to those light moans and sighs and the slick wet sounds as your fingers picked up the pace. He’d have given anything to be the one doing that to you, he would have told you to be as loud as you wanted. You wouldn’t have had to bite down onto the pillow to cover up your cries of pleasure when you came. In his bed.

So no, this isn’t his first rodeo in this case. Two people who are entirely platonic about each other shouldn’t be listening to the other person masturbating and it shouldn’t happen once, let alone twice.

But, the two of you aren’t platonic. Not even a little bit and he’s kicking himself that it’s taken over twenty years and a marriage on your part for him to realise that. He’s always wanted you, but he assumed it wasn’t the same for you. Clearly he assumed wrong.

A big part of him is screaming at him to go, leave the barbecue and go home so he can fuck his fist while he thinks about you, it’s the rational part that’s always there holding him back. Earlier in the kitchen, he was testing the waters, seeing how you’d react to his suggestions and then when he’d risked it all and finally asked if you were happy and when you didn’t immediately say yes, that rational thought had left the building altogether.

Which is why his hand is on the door knob right now, testing it with a small jiggle to check if it’s locked.

It’s not.

He’s going in.

///

Series Masterlist || Next Chapter->

For Javier, time feels like it completely slows when he opens that door.

It was done quietly enough for you to not notice the subtle creak of the hinge, you’re too preoccupied anyway.

The sight he’s greeted with will be forever burned into his memory, something he’ll think about until his dying day. There you are, gripping the edge of the counter with one hand while using the other to rub slow circles around your clit. Your head is tipped back and your eyes are closed, presumably picturing him. He hopes you’re picturing him.

Your breathing is uneven and shuddery, you’re biting your bottom lip to hold back the moans that so desperately want to come out and Javier so desperately wants to hear them in equal measure.

The soft click of the door closing doesn’t get your attention, but the lock falling into place does. Your eyes snap open and you see Javier at the door with a look on his face that you’ve never seen before. “Javier, what the fuck!? Ever heard of knocking first? Jesus Christ....” Embarrassment ripples through you instantly, pulling your hand away and scrambling to pull down your skirt.

“Don’t stop.”

“What?”

Now time feels like it’s slowing for you, raising your eyes in time to look at him again, really looking at him this time. He’s not disgusted, he’s not looking away. No, the look he’s fixing you with has your pussy tightening around nothing and your pulse racing. His eyes are darker than midnight and full of nothing but desire and heat as he moves towards you with slow, measured steps. “I said. Don’t. Stop.” Javiers voice is low and commanding, but there’s an underlying longing there that you immediately pick up on.

Hesitation and doubt creep through your mind for a split second, it’s brief but it’s there. If you do this with him there’s no going back, but you’re not exactly thinking straight right now. Truth be told you haven’t been thinking straight since the day he came back from Colombia, or if you really wanted to nitpick, since the day you met him all those years ago.

Javier has never been too far from your mind and right now, he’s the only thing on it. You’re not a married woman right now and he’s not your best friend, he’s just Javier and you’re just you.

Without a second thought for the consequences, you lift your skirt back up over your hip, catching the way Javiers breath visibly hitches sends a thrill through you. All his focus and attention is on your soft thighs, slowly dragging his darkened eyes up to the centre of your legs as more skin is revealed, scarcely covered by a dainty scrap of lace. He can see the way it’s clinging to your outer lips, soaked with your arousal and he knows it’s all for him.

Javier comes to a stop in front of you, head tilted down as he watches your chest rise and fall with laboured breaths, your tits are so perfect in that dress, he’d give anything to rip it off you. He won’t, not now. Not here. “Touch yourself. Like you were before, just like before.” He’s telling you, not asking. He needs to see it up close, he wants to know how you like it. Javier knows so much about you but this is one detail that he doesn’t know and it’s one that he needs to.

“Javi I... Are you sure?” You don’t know why you’re asking, both of you want this, maybe a small part of you thinks you’re playing a game of chicken here, waiting to see who will be the first one to put a stop to this.

Javier leans in further, placing his hands either side of you on the counter beside your hips, not touching you though you note, but he’s close, close enough that he could just close the gap and kiss you if he wanted to but he’s visibly holding back. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire fucking life hermosa. Touch that pretty little pussy of yours for me. Wanna see how she likes it.”

This all feels like a daydream to you right now, like one of your horny little intrusive thoughts is projecting this image in your mind and you’ll snap out of it and find yourself waking up spaced out in the middle of pretending to listen to Lorraine again, but it’s not. You can smell him, you can taste the cigarette smoke on him and you can feel your hand snaking back under your panties, immediately finding your clit once more, making the quietest of moans bubble up from your throat.

Javiers grip on the counter either side of you tightens, restraining himself from lunging forward and just fucking you right then and there. “You like that, baby? Were you thinkin’ about me before when you were playing with your little clit all alone in here? C’mon you can tell me, hermosa.” Javier coos as his eyes dart between your face and your hand, obstructed by the lace. The rasp of his voice is deep and sinful, you should have know he was the type to be chatty in intimate situations. You like it, your husband is nothing like this, you’re lucky if you even hear him groan.

“Yes... Oh fuck... I was. Needed ‘t do something... Can’t stop thinking about you Javi.” The admission slips out of you in a breathless whisper as you start to rub your clit in tighter, faster circles.

How Javier’s stopping himself from just ripping those panties off you right now, he doesn’t know, but he is, just barely and that little confession of yours isn’t helping. He needs to touch you but he’s rationalising with himself that it doesn’t count if he’s not the one with his hands on you, telling himself that he’s found a loophole that makes this situation less fucked up.

Javier takes his left hand off the counter and brings it to the middle of your legs cupping his hand over yours, he can feel how damp the lace is against his palm and it has his mouth going dry. “So fuckin’ wet for me aren’t you? You do this a lot? Think about me while you touch yourself?” He murmurs with a low groan.

His hand is controlling yours now, pressing against it to make you add just a little extra pressure while your fingers continue to glide around your clit. Your head drops forward making contact with his forehead lightly, neither of you pulling away as you share breaths. Your little gasps and moans have his dick straining painfully against the zipper of his jeans, he needs you to feel how much he wants you.

Javier presses his pelvis against your bare hip, rocking against you with shallow rolls of his hips, letting you feel all of him. You’ve always known Javier was big, you’d overheard stories in the high school locker room from cheerleaders who were shamelessly swapping stories about their experiences with him. ‘Thick dick Peña’ one girl had called him, a part of you thought they were exaggerating or that it may have been just idle gossip, but facts don’t lie. Especially not when it’s rutting against you like this.

“Tell me hermosa, please...” Javier urges as his hot, shaky breaths fan across your face.

“All the time Javi... I... I think about you all the time I... Javi please... ” You’re not even sure what you’re begging for, all you know is you are. You free hand finds his own on the counter, squeezing it tightly. Any other time the act would have been for friendly reassurance, but right now it’s to ground yourself and him.

“Fuck yourself on your fingers, c’mon baby you can do it ” Javier guides your hand lower under your panties, your slick covered fingers nudge at your entrance for a moment before you slide two inside yourself with a gentle sigh. With his assistance, you start to pump them in and out of yourself in time with each roll and grind of his hips. Javier can hear the way your cunt sucks them back in with every thrust, the lewd wet sounds are music to his ears, he wishes it were him.

Meanwhile, you’re also wishing it were him, your fingers aren’t as thick as his and you can only imagine how much fuller you’d feel if he were the one doing this to you. So with a soft gasp, a third finger slips in to make up for the space he should be occupying. Your hips move of their own accord, bucking into your hand like you would if you were riding his cock.

“Fuck— y’feel what you do to me baby? Feel how— shit— how fuckin’ hard I am right now? You’re close aren’t you? Put your thumb on your clit, need you to come for me, do it – bet y’look so pretty when you come” Each filthy whispered word is strained, uttered through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw as Javier rolls his hips harder and deeper against you, dry humping your hip like a dog in heat.

You do as he directs, bringing your thumb to the pearl, applying just the right around of pressure as you swipe furiously back and forth over the swollen nub. You’re trying so hard not to be loud, well aware that there is still a backyard full of people just beyond the window, even if the music from the boom box is loud, it only takes one ill–timed pause between songs for all this to come crashing down. “Javi—” You whimper, lifting your hand off his to clutch at his collar instead, keeping him close to you “I’m gonna come, oh fuck—”

“Dámelo, hermosa (give it to me, beautiful). C’mon... Need’t see how pretty you are” Javier grits out, keeping his hand firmly over your own that’s buried deep in your cunt, he sees it then, when you curl your fingers just right and find that spot inside you that has fireworks exploding behind your eyes.

Like a gasoline soaked rag meeting a lit match, your orgasm hits you, fiery and intense. You’re all trembling legs and whimpered babbles, ‘oh god, oh fuck, Javi’ as your pussy clenches and flutters around your fingers. Javier manages to keep focused on your beautiful blissed out expression just long enough to see you begin to relax before he follows you over the edge too, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a deep, pained groan, hips stuttering as he fills the inside of his boxers with hot, thick ropes of his come.

The two of you stay like that for a long moment, his hand stays over yours guiding it to a slow stop while the aftershocks settle. Javier stays in the crook of your neck while the mess in his pants starts to cool and become uncomfortable, he just needs a minute to come back down to earth, unable to believe that what happened did in fact happen.

It has to happen eventually, one of you has to break the silence, so you do it, slowly letting go of his collar to slip your hand around the back of his neck, stroking your thumb gently over the skin there. “Javi? You good?”

Your voice breaks him out of the daze he was in, as Javier lifts his head up, he lazily drags the arch of his nose up the column of your neck, breathing in your scent just one more time before pulling back enough to look at you. His brown eyes meet yours, dark pools swimming with lingering desire and heat. Javier shifts his hand to wrap it around your wrist, carefully extracting your fingers from you making you whine at the loss of fullness. A wet trail skims over the curly mound of hairs as he pulls your hand out of your underwear and lifts it into the air between the two of you. Your release coats your fingers, creating sticky webbed strings between them while Javier inspects them, just admiring it for a moment before he ducks his head down and takes them into his mouth, groaning lowly at how you taste.

You let out an audible moan in return as his eyes flutter closed and he sucks them clean, you imagine how that would feel on your clit, how his tongue swirling like it is now with the suction would be and it has that still lit flame inside you roaring once more. Once he’s satisfied that none of your sweet juices have been wasted, Javier pulls off your fingers with a wet pop, meeting your gaze once more.

He doesn’t know what, but something in the way you were looking at him made him crash land back to reality. The weight of what the two of you just did hits him like a ton of bricks, dropping your hand like it burns him to touch you while taking a big step back and running a hand through his hair. “Fuck. Fuck. Shit. I... I gotta go.”

You’re blinking rapidly, feeling confused and a little hurt deep down, but you know he’s right, this isn’t a ‘kiss and cuddle after’ type situation. “Y-yeah you should go.” You tell him as you’re pulling your skirt back down “Um... Go out the front? If anyone asks I’ll say you weren’t feeling well or something.” And so the lies start, right out the gate.

“Yeah... Um... Thanks, I guess.” Javier mumbles staring right through you like you’re not even there, he can’t even look at you now. It’s suddenly so awkward, but he’s the one making it that way. You’re the one that’s married, you’re the one that’s just put a permanent, inerasable black mark on your marriage, as much as you’re doing mental gymnastics right now trying to justify it, you still did it. “I’ll uh... I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Shit. You’re going to have to see Javier every day at work. Of all the people you could have done this kind of thing with, not only is he your closest friend, you also work together. You should have locked the door, you shouldn’t have been thinking about him like that in the first place, you should have told him to get out, you definitely shouldn’t have worn this dress today.

“Yeah... S-see you tomorrow Javier.”

And then, without a second glance back at you, he’s gone, unlocking and disappearing out the door like he can’t get out of there fast enough. As you listen to his quickly receding footsteps, he sounds like he’s sprinting from your home, you’re left alone with your thoughts and the residual heat low in your belly.

After you turn the faucet off behind you, the thoughts become louder and amplified by the deafening silence

The questions keep coming, all racing through your mind one after the other at the speed of light. But the loudest and most poignant question at the forefront of your mind is:

Do you regret it?

And it shocks you how fast you have the answer to it, brutal and blinding in its honesty.

No, you don’t regret it.

///

Sleep didn’t come easily that night, fitful and restless as your husband laid beside you, mouth agape as each loud, alcohol fueled snore made you want to pick up the pillow and smack him with it.

He hadn’t even noticed how long you’d been away from the barbecue, which by that point had to have been close to an hour. No one had noticed, in fact. Are you that forgettable? Not to Javier though, he sees you. He always sees you.

But people do see him. Almost everyone asked where he was when you returned to the back yard. He’d hate that shit, you know how much he loathes being the centre of attention.

As promised though, when you got back to the barbecue you lied through your teeth and told those who asked about Javier’s abrupt departure that he wasn’t feeling good. No one second guessed it but there was a palpable ripple of disappointment that fell over the backyard after that, it was like he was supposed to be there for their entertainment purposes only. There to perform like the world’s worst most morbid circus act.

People always, asked about Colombia, without fail.

When he returned from Colombia all he wanted was solitude and the freedom to try and forget everything that happened down there, but he couldn’t, not when every trip to the grocery store turned into a game of ’21-Questions’ with whatever local busy-body he’d run into, not when a ‘quiet drink’ at the local dive bar became ‘a celebration of his heroism’.

Anyone else would be thrilled at the prospect of free drinks for life, along with the endless stream of female admirers that came with being made out to be a ‘hero’ in a small town like Loredo. But Javier didn’t see himself as a hero, not even a little bit.

Javier hasn’t known a single day of peace since coming back, everyone wants something from him at all times. Everyone but you, you’ve never demanded anything from him and that’s the primary reason as to why you’ve always gotten along so easily. When word got out that Javier was home for good, you didn’t hound him, you didn’t flock to his dad’s ranch like a lot of well-meaning, but misguided townsfolk did. No, you gave him his space, left a message with Chucho asking him to pass on your new phone number and after that it was a month before you saw him in person, even if he was on your mind every minute of the day.

///

The working day dragged on, that particular day.

Between the lack of sleep from the night before and Javier’s blatant attempts at avoiding you as much as humanly possible, everything just made those 8 hours in the office feel like an eternity.

Javier has his own office, he had no trouble finding a comfortable job in the local law enforcement branch when he came back to Loredo and the county was more than happy to bend over backwards and offer him the role as Sheriff. Usually an elected role but not when your name holds as much weight and fame as Javiers does.

All day you’ve been watching his office from the bull-pen, looking for signs of life. He’s in there, you know he is. He must have gotten in early though because his car was already in the parking lot when you arrived, a little earlier than usual yourself with the intention of trying to catch him on his way in so you could check in with him. You’d been tempted to call him last night, send him a text maybe, but you chickened out each and every time you picked up the phone.

His door has been closed all day long though, you haven’t seen him step out side once and it’s driving you to insanity, he must have to piss or come out to get a drink of water at some point, surely? He’s avoiding you like the plague and you know it.

While on your break you overheard a couple of deputies talking about how Javier all but bit the head off of one of them when they said ‘good morning’ to him while he was on the way into the office.

Why does he get to be the one who’s acting like this? It’s not fair and he’s acting like a toddler who’s throwing a tantrum.

It takes two to tango, after all and he was the one who decided to walk in on you yesterday, he was the one who told you to keep going.

So, by 5pm, when everyone is starting to powder down their computers and file out for the day, you stay. Offering the excuse of having to work late under the false-pretence of having to catch up on some reports when your colleagues would walk by your desk on their way out and ask if you were leaving too. You also remember to send a quick text to your husband, telling him to go ahead and make dinner without you and that you’re ‘swamped’. When did lying become easy for you?

By 6pm, the last person leaves, you watch as the door quietly shuts behind them and you listen out for the screech of tires on asphalt as they pull out of the parking lot.

When you’re sure they’re gone, you make your move. The chair scrapes across the linoleum floor as you push away from your desk, you fidget anxiously with your fingers as you walk across the bull-pen. Each step closer feels like your wading through waist-deep water, waiting for the inevitable wave to crash over you and pull you under. In the short time it takes for you to cross the bull-pen, you go through a range of emotions.

You’re nervous, you’re frustrated, you want an explanation for why he’s being like this. But, at the same time your heart is pounding at the idea of seeing him again, your palms are sweating and your mouth is dry all of a sudden. You don’t know quite what to think or feel, about him, about this situation that you’ve both had a hand in creating.

As you stop just outside his door, marked with a plaque that reads ‘J. Peña, Sheriff’, you can hear shuffling from within. He’s definitely still in there, he hadn’t some how managed to sneak out while you were away from your desk, you’ve got him cornered. Now or never.

With a baited breath, you raise your hand to knock.

But, at that very same moment, the door opens and Javier, seemingly in is own head, collides into you. You let out a little surprised yelp as the collision makes you stumble back a step and he wraps a strong arm around your waist, helping to keep you upright.

Neither of you say a word, just staring back at one another with mirroring expressions of shock. If this is the universes way of playing a prank on the two of you, it’s really not funny.

You realise your hand is gripping his bicep and even through the dark navy suit jacket, you can feel the taut muscles beneath along with how distractingly big his hand feels on your lower back, fingers splayed wide against the material of your crisp white blouse.

The instant gravitational pull from him returns and for a moment, you forget the entire stern speech you’d rehearsed in your head while you were walking over here.

That’s short lived though, because as soon as Javier helps you back onto your feet, he’s distancing himself from you once more, turning on his heel as he retreats into his office, leaving you with the lingering warmth from his hand on your back and as the atmosphere turns frosty.

No. He doesn’t get to be like this. Not with you.

You follow him into the office and slam the door shut behind you, forcing him to look at you now while he pretends to look for something in his suitcase.

“What the fuck are you still doing here? Go home to your husband.” He’s hostile right out of the gate, his words are laced with venom and he’s pinning you with a hard, unforgiving stare. Such a great start. Good thing you’re ready for a fight.

“Oh it’s like that is it? Okay cool. I just wanted to talk to you Javier and—”

“Yeah well I don’t want to talk to you, so get the fuck out.” Javier fires back, cutting you off before you can explain yourself. Tears form at your waterline but you force them away with heavy blinks, it’s rare that the two of you argue, but this isn’t any regular argument, this isn’t about who’s turn it is to buy lunch or about overdue paperwork. This shit is friendship ending and you can’t let that happen, you won’t. You can’t.

“No, you know what? Fuck you Javier! You don’t get to talk to me like that! You don’t get to look at me like I’m the one who’s fucked up your life here. You’re not the one who’s married!” Your voice gradually rises in volume until you don’t even recognise the person who’s speaking anymore, the words are coming from your mouth but you don’t remember a time in your life where you’ve ever been so angry. You give yourself a split second to breathe before you’re verbally attacking him once more and your feet are carrying you towards him of their own accord. “Who the fuck do you think you are Peña? You avoid me all day and now you won’t even have an adult discussion with me about it? You don’t think you owe me at least that much?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Javier states plainly and dismissively. “What happened yesterday was a mistake and it's never happening again. This little thing, whatever you feel about me, just forget about it.”

“What I feel about you?” You say with a derisive scoff. “You say that like I’m a schoolgirl with a crush and like I’m the only one between the two of us that feels something here! You know what I think?” It’s a rhetorical question, of course. You’re going to give him a piece of your mind whether he wants to hear it or not.

“No and I honestly don’t care.” He’s trying so hard to paint this indifferent facade but you know him better than that, he may have been away catching narcos for over a decade, but some things never change, he has tells like any other human being and Javier’s tells have been the same since he was a teenager. The frustrated swipe of his thumb over his plush bottom lip, the way his brow creases at the bridge of his nose, all the subtle micro-expressions that would go missed by anyone else, but not you. He cares, more than he’s willing to let on.

“I think you’re doing what you always do when you get scared.”

“You think I’m scared?” He poses the question to you like it’s the most offensive thing he’s ever heard. “Oh this should be good, what do I do when I’m scared then huh? Enlighten me since you know me so well.”

“You run. You ran away to Colombia when you got cold feet with Lorraine, you ran away when your mom died and you stopped answering calls from me and your dad and you’re running away now because that’s all you know how to do!”

Each word hits him like a punch to the gut and you know you’re being a bitch right now but he needs to hear it. You’ve been patient with him, you’ve made excuses for him, but he really should have expected this. You’ve never put him on a pedestal like everyone else, he’s a person with flaws and in the cold, hard light of day, you see every single one of them.

The hurt flashes in Javier’s eyes before it quickly morphs into something else, anger, lust, yearning.

You’ve just laid into him, called him out on his bullshit when no one else has dared to in such a long time. Javier doesn’t know what he was expecting from you, but of course you wouldn’t just walk away. Why could you never just walk away when it came to him?

You’re just standing there, continuing to list off every single thing that’s fundamentally wrong with him, like he doesn’t already know this shit, like he doesn’t have to live with it and the guilt that comes attached to it every waking second of the day already. You just keep going and going though, clearly this has been on your mind for a while, but there’s only so much a person can take and right now Javier’s patience is wearing thin. “Cállate!” His voice booms as the tether snaps “Shut up! Shut the fuck up for one goddamn second!” And to his surprise, you do. Unmoving on the spot where you stand, within touching distance. You’re here, staring back at him. And he can read that look on your face, it’s like an open book. Javier knows from that look that you’re expecting him to run again, you’re bracing yourself for it.

But, he’s not about to let you think you were right about him. He’s done running. Even if this is all inevitably going to blow up in his face, he doesn’t care. He’ll sprint towards the explosion. He wants to hold the bomb in his hands.

He gives you a split second warning in the form of a sweeping gaze of your body, taking in the way your blouse fits over those perfect tits of yours and the way your pants hug your curves before he’s on you. Grabbing you by your hips and pulling you against him, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, heated kiss.

Years of pent up longing is being channelled into it and you don’t hesitate to reciprocate. Your hands come up to cup his face, kissing him back with equal fervor and intensity. You moan into each other’s mouths like you’re both the best thing each other has tasted, like he's the 3am ice cold glass of water on your nightstand, thirst quenching. You need each other like air and you couldn’t stop now even if you wanted to.

Big hands guide your hips as you take tiny, edging steps backwards until you feel the lip of his desk bite against the back of your thighs. Javier breaks the kiss only for a moment, leaning around you to sweep his desk clear of papers and stationary, sending it all to the floor with a loud clatter.

And then his hands are on you again, hooking under your thighs to hoist you up onto his desk so you’re at perfect height for him and his lips merge with yours once more, nudging your thighs apart with his knee to push himself between them. Javier’s completely unbidden from everything he’s been holding back on. The dam is broken now and the flood is coming and neither of you can do a fucking thing to stop it.

It’s just the two of you now, locked in a battle of lips, teeth and tongues. He rolls his hips slowly against your clothed core, making you feel every inch of his hardening length beneath his slacks, it’s delicious and completely delirium inducing all at once.

Your hands are in his hair, gripping and tugging at the raven locks between tour fingers, revelling in the way that it makes deep groans bubble in the back of his throat, he likes a little pain with his pleasure and you make a mental note of that in the darkest, most sordid depths of your brain.

At some point though, he has to come up for air, pulling back just enough to replenish oxygen supply. Both of you are breathless and panting, you have no idea who you are or what your name is anymore, all you know is him. All you want to know is him.

“I’m done running.” Javier murmurs, his voice is a low, breathless whisper, his lips just barely off of yours. “I’m done. Can’t do it any more. Not going to do it again. You drive me fucking insane, Cariño. I need you and you need me... Tell me what you want, tell me what you need and I’ll do it. Please baby. Please just tell me....” His whispered plea dissolves into small groans as his lips travel down your jaw and to your neck, soft brushes against your skin contrast to the scratch of his moustache, he’s being careful not to leave a visible mark on you.

You know what you want, it’s what you’ve wanted since you were a teenager. You want him, it’s always been him. But, life had other plans. It took the two of you in separate trajectories but it always bought you back to one another some how, no matter how ill-timed.

His lips continue on a path of their own as he waits for your answer, it’s distracting and he knows it but he can’t stop now, finding all the secret spots that make you quiver and gasp while his hands grope at parts of you that someone who’s just a friend should never have access to.

Javier’s lips find the juncture of your neck and shoulder, grazing his teeth over it lightly before soothing the sting with his tongue. It’s maddening and inspiring. You know what you want now. Your lips part, attempting to speak the words out loud that had formed in your brain but they slip away into a quiet moan when he drags his lips lower, unbuttoning your blouse just enough to place hot, open mouthed kisses upon the swell of your breasts, tugging the material open either side of your chest.

His mouth closes over one of your lace-covered nipples, making you gasp and arch into him as his tongue swirls over the fabric, coaxing it to harden as he admonishes attention on the other breast with a gentle squeeze in the palm of his hand, swiping his thumb over the other sensitive peak.

You can feel him grinning against you, even if you cant see his face fully from this angle. Such a bastard.

How does he expect you to be able to form a coherent thought, let alone sentences right now?

He must sense your struggle, because he does eventually let up, moving to the valley between your cleavage instead, alternating between kissing one breast and then the other as he speaks “Tell me baby, do you want my tongue or my fingers before I fuck you?”

Foreplay has never been a big thing for your husband, he'd never be thinking about your pleasure like this, you can't even remember the last time he went down on you. Even when he did, he'd make a huge song and dance about it because 'its not his favourite thing to do', but he'd hint that he wanted head often. And here Javier is, offering you the choice of what you want first. It feels like you're being spoiled, when really, this is how you deserve to be treated, or you're justifying it that way, at least. “Tongue Javi, please... need your mouth on me. Make me feel good...”

A low growl rumbles against your skin, the begging clearly does it for him, it makes something snap because quicker than you can even fathom, he's untucking your shirt from your pants and working the button and fly. “Lift your hips for me baby, need these off of you right now.” He demands and you immediately acquiesce, lifting up just enough as his fingers hook into the waistband of your slacks, tugging them down your legs with your panties as you toe your shoes off. As soon as the offending fabric is abandoned to the floor, Javier takes one small step back just to admire you there, perched on his desk, half naked, looking like one of his wet dreams. The up-lighter lamp in the corner of his office barely illuminates the space as the sun is starting to set outside, the blinds blocking out most of the light from the outside world save from the tiny slithers either side. You're not worried about anyone being able to see in, his office looks out over the parking lot, fenced off to the public.

You might still have half your clothes on, but right now you feel completely naked to his gaze. You've never seen him like this before, you'd never noticed just how dark his eyes can get when he looks at you. You're tempted to shy away and close your legs, but you don't. When was the last time a man looked at you like this? Desired and coveted you?

Your husband did, at one point, but not any more.

You like this, the feeling of being wanted. It makes you feel like a goddess. So, instead of shying away, you lean into it, parting your legs slowly and seductively until you're well and truly bare to him. Javiers eyes immediately follow the opening of your legs and he lets out a quiet groan under his breath when he finally sets his eyes on your glistening cunt.

He gradually drops to his knees in front of you, placing both hands on each of your thighs, running his hands up your soft skin until he's holding your hips either side.

Javier's eye level with your pussy now, close enough to breath in your unique scent as he places tiny kisses along the inside of your thigh, going up,up,up until he's exactly where he wants to be. “Knew she'd be beautiful... fuck me... need to taste you so bad.”

You're about to tell him to do it, but he's already going for it, cutting you off as he runs the flat of his tongue from your entrance to your clit with an exploratory swipe. It already has you keening and gasping, like you've never been touched like this and maybe the stark reality is you haven't ever really been touched like this before.

“Taste so fuckin' sweet baby... gonna take good care of you.” Javier is a man of his word, pushing his head between your legs further while he pulls you closer by your hips until your ass almost hangs off the edge. His ministrations start off slow with no real pattern to them, testing and teasing to see what you like, learning what makes you tick, he's well experienced and you know it.

You'd discussed Colombia with him a few times, when he bought it up of his own accord, each and every time he'd find a way to circle back to the women he met down there. A part of you flared with jealously inside when you had to listen to him, you knew you had no right to feel that way but you did anyway, in hindsight, that should have been your first sign that this was never going to be completely platonic, but you ignored every red flag that had been waved until it led you to this. Couple his experience with women in Colombia and what you already knew about him from high school, it meant that he was a man who knew what a woman wanted, before she even knew it herself. He could always read you like a book, but right now, he's studying you, you're his religion and your body is his holy sacrament.

You attempt to buck your hips against his face greedily at one point, but he adjusts his hold on your hips firmer, keeping you still and wide open for him. His lips close around your clit, just like they had around his fingers last night and he sucks, creating a light vacuum around the swollen nub. “Fuck Javi!” You breathe as your fingers find their way into the crown of his hair, it eggs him on to keep doing what he's doing and it makes him groan once more, the vibrations of which add to the pleasure you're already experiencing.

Javier takes all these little cues and uses them to his advantage, flicking the tip of his tongue rapidly back and forth as your moans get louder and more involuntary. He's making this as good for you as possible because he knows that once his dick is inside you, he's not going to last long, not with the noises you're making for him, not when he's already leaking into his boxers like crazy.

He pulls back slowly off your clit with it still between his lips, the lewd pop that sounds out is almost pornographic. You whine and want to ask him why he stopped but you don't get the chance because he's let go of one of your hips while you were delirious, bringing it between your legs to press two thick fingers at your slick entrance. “So wet for me, look at you. Dirty girl, you like this don't you? You get off on the danger–“ His fingers breech you, agonisingly slowly as Javier raises his gaze to your face, watching it contort with pleasure and a blissful smile as he buries them deep inside you “– Get off on the thrill... Fuck... Look at how she's sucking me in baby... so fucking tight...”

His words only serve to turn you on further, you can feel your arousal dripping out of you now, coating his knuckles and your thighs. Javier watches his fingers fucking in and out of you,marvelling in it for a long moment before he's latched back onto your clit, sucking just that little bit harder now as his fingers work in tandem to push you closer and closer to release. Expertly bringing you there, but not too fast, like he doesn't want this to end and truthfully, he doesn't. Javier would stay between your thighs all night long if you'd let him.

You face the reality of the situation as you begin to crest, that yes, you do like the thrill and the danger, the taboo of it all. You catch a glimpse of the golden band on your finger as its buried in his hair and really it should make you feel like shit, but it doesn't, no, that is what brings you to orgasm. The ecstasy washes over you, crying out his name as he groans deeply between your legs while your pussy clamps and gushes around his fingers. Javier stays there between your legs, fucking you and licking you through your orgasm until the trembles subside.

Last night, you could rationalise with yourselves that there was some stupid loophole in what the two of you did in your bathroom, an ambiguity clause. But now? There's no excuse and you're not sure you want one.

Javi slowly withdraws his fingers from you and takes his time in sucking them clean, savouring every last lingering morsel of you there before he gets up, taking in your post-exhilaration expression, refracting back at you with a pleased smirk of his own.

And then he's kissing you once more, cupping your face in his hands in an almost tender fashion, coaxing your lips to part with his tongue. He wants you to taste yourself on him and you want it too. Languidly, you lick into his mouth, devouring every inch of it. Your sweet release lingers on him, you can smell it on his moustache and taste it on his lips. Its getting you high on him, you want more, you need more.

“Need you inside me” You breathe against his lips and he nods enthusiastically.

You're reaching down between the two of you to fumble with his belt buckle and that's when you both hear it, the familiar sickly sweet call of a woman's voice in the office, calling out his name.

Lorraine.

///

Series Masterlist || <- Previous Chapter || Next Chapter->

THANK YOU SO MUCH IF YOU'VE MADE IT THIS FAR! The response to chapter one was overwhelming and so supportive and I want to thank each and every one of you for taking time out of your day to read my dirty little story. Going to give myself two weeks to get chapter two out since I cranked this one out in one week and I've got other works I need to pay attention to but thank you, thank you, thank you for all the love! Any comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated, they bring me so much joy and encouragement 🥺

npt: @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69 @letsgobarbs @joelmillerisapunk @joelmillerisapunk @thundermartini @itwasntimethatdidit40 @gothcsz @almostempty @professionalpromqueen

In that moment, all you want to do is run away to the nearest bathroom and ugly cry, but you don’t, instead you plaster on a big, bright and entirely fraudulent smile, forcing yourself to be happy for your best friend while a little piece of your heart dies.

You watch on as his arm wraps around her waist when she's within reaching distance, the way he smiles at her, just that little bit bigger than he would if he was smiling at you and the way they make googly eyes at each other before they kiss. You want to scream and cry 'he's mine', but you can't, you've never seen Javier so happy and something about the way they're acting with each other, suggests that this isn't new. Just how long has this been going on?You thought you told each other everything.

A call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts and you realise you've been disassociating, staring through them while they made out in the bustling hallway. “This is my girlfriend, Lorraine.”

Girlfriend.

Many girls have come and gone in the time you've known Javier and not once did he call any of them his girlfriend. You hate her, through absolutely no fault of her own, you hate her.

///

Lorraine seemed to always have impeccable timing when it came to interfering in your relationship with Javi, it was completely inadvertent on her part, but still it was incredibly frustrating.

“Javi? You still here?” It’s an immediate mood killer hearing her voice on the other side of the door, your hands fall away from his belt in an instant and the two of you freeze in place, both of you too scared to move.

“Yeah um... Just a sec I’ll be right out!” You want to smack him upside the head for that one, why would he do that?! You pin him with a death glare while mouthing ‘what the fuck Javi?’. “Look—” Javier whispers while tucking his dick into the waistband of his pants to hide his erection and even though you’re pissed at him, you can’t help but watch the action with great interest. “She clearly knows I’m here anyway, so I’m just gonna go see what she wants, get rid of her and we can finish where we left off, okay?”

It’s maddeningly frustrating how Lorraine’s shitty timing is coming between the two of you once more, but a part of you is thankful she interrupted when she did, a minute earlier and she’d have heard you lustfully calling out his name as you came apart on his tongue and fingers, a minute later and she’d have heard the two of you frantically fucking on his desk. Either way whatever this thing is between the two of you would have been over before it had even had a chance to start. This was probably the best possible outcome, you reluctantly admit to yourself.

“Fine.” You say with a small sigh “Just get rid of her quickly, okay?”

“Yeah I know. Hey...” Javier gently tilts your chin up to meet his gaze with the same two fingers that had been inside you moments prior. “I’ll he right back.. don’t you dare move” it’s said with a smirk, he’s far too cocky for a guy who almost got caught as an accomplice to an affair, but it’s hard to be mad at him when he presses his lips against yours the way he does. Soft, plush lips slanting against your own with a gentle slip of his tongue into your mouth, forcing yourself hold back a moan when you taste the sweet and musky taste of your own release still lingering on his tongue.

“You smell like pussy” You grin against his lips, making a small huff of laughter leave him through his nose. “Taste like it too. Got a little something in your moustache...” Gently swiping your thumb through the neatly trimmed hair on his upper lip, you wipe away the creamy evidence of anything the two of you just did.

With one more hushed whisper of thanks, Javier winks and straightens out his jacket as he strides to the door, leaving you half naked from the waist down, perched on the edge of his desk while he goes off to deal with his she-devil of an ex-fiancé.

///

When Javier exits his office, making sure to close the door behind him, Lorraine has her back to him,compact mirror in hand, reapplying new lipstick. He finger combs his hair one last time, making sure he doesn't look too dishevelled before he says her name. Finally, she spots him in the reflection over her shoulder and snaps the mirror shut, shoving it back in her knock off designer handbag before turning to face him with an unreadable expression and a fresh coat of bubblegum pink on her lips.

For a moment, he wonders if she heard anything, if she's about to barge into the office to find you waiting for him in a compromising position. If that were the case though, she'd have done it by now and she certainly wouldn't be out here putting on make up in preparation for it.

“Hey, I um... I was just driving by, saw your car in the parking lot. Workin' late tonight huh?” Ever the detective. His patience for Lorraine ran out years ago, but for the sake of not acting too suspicious, he'll allow her to say whatever it is she has to say.

“Yep, got a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so...” Javier murmurs with a non-committal shrug, its pretty easy to maintain an unbothered act around Lorraine actually, he doesn't really have to fake it.

When she says your name though, his facade almost cracks, willing his eyes not to completely bulge out of his head. “Yeah what about her?”

“Saw her car out there too, she still here or–?”

“No. Battery problems and neither of us had any jumper cables so she got a cab home” Javiers impressed with how fast on his feet he was with that one, its believable at least. “Is there a reason you're actually here Lorraine because I'm up to my eyeballs in paperwork, as nice as a little chitchat is.” He adds quickly, not giving her a moment to really question his excuse.

“Oh... There is a reason actually.” It seems like she's taken the bait, the discussion about your car being forgotten altogether. “I uh.. its stupid actually.” She says with a tiny nervous chuckle, absent-mindedly running her fingers through the bleach blonde ends of her hair. “It was really good to see you yesterday, even if it was brief.”

Well, he wasn't expecting that. This has to be a trap somehow, he knows her too well to know there's more to this little visit.

“You stopped in to just tell me that? Thanks, I guess.”

“No actually, not just that, but I'm glad to see you're feeling better.”

“Huh?” Oh, the excuse you gave for his abrupt departure from the barbecue. “Oh, uh, yeah thanks. Why are you here Lorraine?” He can't control the way his question comes out a slightly clipped, he knows you can hear every word of this conversation and how much you dislike Lorraine, even if you did try and hide it.

When she starts to move closer to him though, he see's it, the expression he recognises from all those years ago, the flirty lift of her lips at the corner and the subtle flutter of her lashes. “Thought I could keep you company... Randy's got the kids anyway and he thinks I'm out grocery shoppin'.” She cannot be real right now surely? The irony of the situation isn't lost on him. Javi's got one married woman in his office who he's just eaten out on his desk and now he's got another one not so subtly throwing herself at him.

A thud from his office behind him makes both of them snap their heads in the direction and Javier just hopes to god you didn't just throw something at the wall pretending it was Lorraine's head. “What was that?”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Probably just the wind knocking shit over or something. Got the window open for, y'know fresh air, circulation to the brain, read an article on the benefits.” He's rambling and he can feel the anxious sweat beading on his brow, he needs to divert her attention quickly before she actually does question him this time. “Are you fucking kidding me with this shit though Lorraine, did you really just proposition me for a goodamn affair? What is wrong with you?” The hypocrisy is physically painful, although he was the first one to really make the move between the two of you, at least that's the way he justifies it. He just hopes you're not on the other side of the door taking his words to her the wrong way,he genuinely is horrified that Lorraine would come to him like this, especially after the passive-aggressive way she's been towards him since he got home from Colombia.

A small scoff leaves her painted lips as any hint of flirtation from before evaporates from her expression, turning into a scowl. “You really think you're hot shit don't you Javier? It's not like it'd be the first time you've done this kind of thing. Don't think I've forgotten about Jessica.”

Jessica.

The reason they broke up for a while when he was away at college, the first time at least. He'd gotten drunk one night at a frat party he'd been invited to. That's where he met her, they'd fucked in one of the bathrooms after 10 whole minutes of getting to know each other and it took Javier a whole week to get up the courage to tell Lorraine. He'd been dodging her calls all week long and when he eventually did call her back, she bawled her eyes out on the phone to him for hours while she called him every hateful name under the sun and Javi just let her. He knew he'd fucked up but truthfully he was getting cold feet about their relationship already, they were both barely in their twenties and Lorraine was already pressuring him to commit, despite the long distance relationship they were in at the time. This is just what he did when he was scared and that habit continued in many aspects of his life thereafter.

Though he hadn't told you about Jessica, he didn't think it was important. A fact he's slightly regretting now.

“You're really throwing that in my face right now? Do you even hear yourself? Its ancient history. Fucking ridiculous of you to still be holding onto that shit when you've supposedly moved on and had a family, I hope you know that.” Javier's not pulling any punches now, he's telling her straight and she needs to hear it and even if he can see the tears welling up in her eyes under the dim florescent lighting. She's not his problem.

“I-I think Randy's cheating on me with his secretary...” She squeaks out as she's holding back the tears. Javier does feel a twinge of empathy for her, he really does, but he's not about to be the the shoulder she leans on for support. Not when she only ever saw him as a thing to covet and own. She'd been boastful about bagging the hottest guy in school back in the day and it didn't sit right with Javier even then and when she all but forced his hand into proposing, telling him she thought she was pregnant over a phone call when he was in the last year of college, only to magically get her period the same day he put a ring on her finger. So yeah, it was really hard for him to muster up much genuine sympathy for her after that.

“Well as sorry as I am about that Lorraine-” He says flatly “I'm not a homewrecker, so you're gonna have to sort your own shit out. Now, thanks for the visit but if you could kindly–“

“You know what? Fuck you Javier!” Lorraine hisses with angry tears smearing her once pristine mascara down her rosy blush cheeks “You act so high and mighty and everyone in this fucking town thinks you're such a big hero, but all I remember you as is a god damn coward who ran away with his tail between his legs when things got too real for him!” For over a decade, Lorraine has been holding back on giving him a piece of her mind after he left her at the alter, it was the single-most humiliating day of her life, next to him admitting to cheating on her and now here she was being turned down by the man who stood her up in front of half the population of Laredo and she had a cheating husband at home. She must be so tired of continuously being humiliated.

Her words sting, but Javier never wanted to be painted as a hero in the first place, it was everyone else who adorned him with this unwanted title while he'd uncomfortably smile through the pain.

“Alright, get the fuck out of here Lorraine! Go home and be a mom to your fucking kids and don't you dare try dragging me into your bullshit ever again, oh and if you didn't get the hint before when I ran out on you, hear me now when I say I'm not interested. Do you understand?” Javier's being cut throat with his words right now, his voice rising in volume the more he thinks about everyone he's ever let down, but he doesn't care at this point. For the second time tonight, he's had to listen to someone tell him how much of a coward he is when he already lives with that truth every day of his life. From the moment his eyes open in the morning, to closing them at the end of the day and even in his dreams where he can't escape the horrors that wait for him every night in his sleep. He already knows.

Lorraine lets out an undignified sob as she turns on her heel, clutching her handbag tight to her body as she hastily storms out of the bull-pen, letting the door slam behind her.

Javier hangs his head with a heavy sigh and hands planted on his hips as he listens to her sobs getting further away, followed by the distant squeal of tyres on asphalt. He does feel bad, of course he does, he's not a monster, but not enough to apologise to her.

When he's sure she's really gone, he turns back towards his office, staring at the door for a moment. Javier knows you heard every word and he knows there are some truths you're going to want answers to after that, the intimacy the two of you had planned before, definitely wasn't going to happen now. He takes a moment to breathe, bracing himself for the inevitable fallout and opens the door.

///

Lorraine's words had been an awakening to you, you'd been sitting on that desk waiting for him to come back and fuck you like this was some kind of game. It wasn't. Real people we're involved, with real feelings and as much as you were unhappy and the guilt for your actions wasn't there before, it had hit you like a freight train now.

The moment you'd heard her trying to flirt, the jealousy had flared and you'd knocked over one of the chairs in front of his desk from getting up so fast, with the intention of getting dressed and going out there to give her a piece of your mind, it would have exposed the truth of your infidelity, but it would have been completely worth it to see her lose to you for once. You'd always wondered what might have happened if you'd been that little bit faster in making a move on Javi in high school, you don't allow yourself to think about it too much because when you do, you go down the avenues of thought about you being the one he asked to marry instead and how he wouldn't have stood you up at the alter and that you'd have been more than willing to follow him down to Colombia if that's what he really wanted to do with his life. You'd have been happy, you like to think.

And then he started going off on her about him not being a home-wrecker and how she must have something wrong with her, of course the self-reflection would start now, after you've kissed, after he's tasted you, after his fingers have been inside you.

The truth coming out about their first break up in college had been like a gut punch, he'd lied to you then, feeding you a story about Lorraine wanting a break, all to cover his ass. Javier knew if he told you the truth, you'd be upset with him, even if you didn't like Lorraine much. He hated it when you had that disapproving tone and when you lectured him on his mistakes, it was out of tough love, but he couldn't bear the thought of disappointing you, so he just withheld the truth. All she'd mentioned was a name but you could guess the context behind it from Javier's reaction alone.

By the time he comes back into the office you're fully dressed again, standing in front of his desk with your arms crossed over your chest and a look on your face that's somewhere between hurt and fury. Oh yeah, you heard it all.

“Is she gone?” You ask hotly.

Another sigh leaves his lips, just from seeing you like this and hearing the tone of your voice. “Yeah, she's gone, but listen I didn't –“

“Save whatever excuse you're about to give me Javier. Maybe you were right, maybe this was a bad idea. Lets just forget this ever fucking happened and admit we're both shitty people yeah?” You're not wrong and he knows it, you are both shitty people, he's lied and cheated, you've lied and cheated, in some sick and twisted way in his mind that makes you perfect for each other.

“I'm not walking away this time.” He states plainly as he walks towards you and you walk around him, heading for the door.

“Its not your fucking choice Javier, I'm putting an end to this.”

You're almost at the door when his large hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks as he forces you to face him. “Would you fucking stop and listen to me please? I told you before, I'm done running, I'm done pretending I don't think about you every waking second of the day and I'm done being a c–.” He cuts himself off, not ready to admit the words out loud, no matter how loud they scream inside his mind. “I'm done. Please. Just... Just don't give up on us before we've even had a chance to start. That's all I ask.”

Javiers dark eyes are big and pleading, it tugs on your heartstrings like that look always has, the puppy dog eyes are far more dangerous than any heated smolder because its just so disarming. It makes all your words fall away and turn to ashes in your mouth instantaneously, like it always has. He's your kryptonite.

“Am I just another distraction to you?” Your voice is softer now, unable to hide the fear in your inflection, feeling the need to clarify when you see the confusion on his face. “Like... like what happened with Jessica? Which by the way, does suck that you never told me, but you were young and stupid... this though... us? I-I just need to know if this is your way of self-destructing again.”

“Hermosa” Javier whispers softly as he takes your face into his hands, gently stroking his thumb over the curve of your cheek as he stares deeply into your eyes. “I was young and stupid back then, that's no excuse. I was never happy with Lorraine, I just realised it too late to undo any of my fuck-ups. Deep down, its always been you and if you still want to walk away, I wont hold it against you. It's on me for waiting until it was too late to show you how I feel, it's all on me. This is a big decision to make. Just tell me you'll think about it, don't take a page out of the Javier Peña play-book and run away at the first sign of trouble. Just... take your time and think about what you want, okay?”

You'd be lying to yourself if you didn't want to just throw caution to the wind now and pick up where you left off, but the moment has passed and been soured by the Lorraine of it all. For the first time in the last 24 hours, you actually find yourself thinking rationally. He's right, you do need time to think about this. “Okay. I can't give you a time frame of anything though Javi..”

“That's fine. I've already waited 20 years for you, I'll wait a little longer.”

His words make a warmth bloom in your chest, you know what it is, but you don;t dare put a name to it. Not now.

Despite the heavy atmosphere and the reflecting you need to go away with, you can't help but kiss him one more time, brushing your lips against his in a lingering whisper of a kiss, just needing one more, in case its the very last time.

///

The rest of the week drags on, you and Javier spend the whole time casting lingering glances at one another at work that luckily, no one else picks up on. You spend the whole week wishing you could go into his office and finish what you started that night, but you don't. You need the time to think and Javier is a big distraction so the only time you have is after hours, but even then his presence bleeds into your life at home. On the wall of your living room is a framed photo of the two of you at high school graduation, throwing your caps in the air while he's got you lifted a foot or so off the ground with his arm firmly around your waist. Your faces are both lit up with matching ecstatic joy, for yourselves and for one another. He'd just barely graduated with your insistence on helping to tutor him in the subjects he was failing in, you'd never been more proud of him and he'd never been so grateful for you.

You catch yourself staring at the sunlight-faded photo often, thinking about all the what-ifs that haunt you every day of your life. That photo should be surrounded by other photos of the two of you that don't exist. Your wedding day, blissful newly-weds on their honeymoon and the thought you try to block out the most, photos of your kids. They would have had his eyes and dimples, you're sure of it.

Instead its surrounded by pictures of you and Erick on your wedding day in 1987. You can see it in your own eyes and the forced smile, you'd settled for the first man who gave you attention after Javier left for Colombia, just to fill the gaping void his departure had left in your life. A wound that never entirely closed, only to be torn open again upon Javier's return.

///

Laredo country club had always been a place Javier had been aware of, but it wasn't his scene at all. Golf wasn't his thing, in high school he'd ran track and field and he enjoyed watching football or basketball with his Pops, other than that, he wasn't overly into sports anyway, and this barely seemed like a sport to him at all.

But he'd been distracted when he agreed to this shit, just like he's distracted right now while Randy and Erick are arguing about who won the last hole, its very apt that they're arguing about holes when neither of them can seem to pleasure their wives.

The two of them are just bickering like children while Javier's leaning on his golf club, staring off in the distance across the green, thinking about you, thinking about what you're doing right now.

It's been torture for him these last 5 days, all he's wanted to do is grab you and kiss you until you can't breathe, but it was his idea to give you space, so that what he's doing, as much as he can anyway.

Eventually the two idiots in matching red golf polo's come to an agreement about who won the last hole between the two if them and they turn their attention back to Javier, who's not trying very hard to hide his boredom right now. “Javier? Its your turn bud.” Randy tells him with a clap on his shoulder, snapping Javier out of his daze. Clearly Randy has no idea about the visit his wife paid to him on Monday evening.

“Oh... yeah thanks buddy.” Javier replies, trying his best to hide the sarcasm and destain for the nickname. He sighs quietly as he sets up his ball on the tee and lines up his shot while Randy and Erick go back to talking behind him.

“So tell me about this secretary of yours, my guy. Randy by name, Randy by nature huh?” Erick says and the two of them descend into obnoxious laughter together, Lorraine had been right, her husband was stepping out on her and the fact that your husband wants to hear all about it, doesn't sit right with him.

“There's really nothing to tell, I mean, Lorraine was fun once before the kids came along, but this girl... Oh.. God she can fuck. I don't remember the last time I felt this way man. I don't know how I resisted her for so long, I mean God, the day she started wearing mini skirts to the office it was game over!" Javiers grip on the golf club tightens ever so slightly and his nostrils flare with anger as he hears the way Randy is openly talking about his disrespect for his wife. "I mean seriously, E. If you saw this chick you'd consider risking it all too, no offence your wife is hot and everything, but this girl? Jesus christ."

It would be so easy to turn around and swing this golf club into his stupid face, he'd deserve it, cheating asshole, not only being disrespectful towards his own wife but he's bringing you into it too and Erick isn't even attempting to tell him off for it.

Instead Javier focuses all his anger on his swing, sending the golf ball across the green with a hard whoosh. It lands no where near the hole of course, why would it? He doesn't give a shit about this game or how to play it and right now he's counting down the minutes until its all over, just hoping and praying they don't suggest going for drinks after.

“Woah-ho-ho, easy Peña , y'almost took a bird out of the sky with that one.” Randy chuckles as they switch places and he lines up his shot.

“Yeah Javi, aim of the game is to get it in the hole, bud.” Erick nudges him in the ribs with a wink and all Javier can think about is how this guy has probably heard you say 'is it in yet?' before. It actually makes him smirk and clearly Erick thinks its because he said something funny. “I think that's the first smile we've got outta you all day! What's got you so down in the dumps man? Don't tell me you're going simple over a girl and we don't know about her!”

The irony is delicious.

“Well actually...”

“Don't do it! Take it from me, stay single and fuck everything that moves while you can still get it up without needing a little blue pill.” Randy interrupts over his shoulder. “Worst thing I ever did was marry Lorraine... I shoulda taken a page out of your book on that one, You know what she's like Javier, drives everyone fucking insane with her bitching and moaning. That woman is never happy.”

The ball flies for the air after Randy takes his shot and Erick snorts beside Javier. “I don't know how you do it, man. I mean if my wife was half as annoying as Lorraine is, I'd have divorced her ass years ago.”

Inhale, exhale, Javier. It's not worth it getting in a fight with these two assholes, he's not about to risk his career again over making stupid, violent mistakes, no matter how tempting it is.

Clearly these two think they're in a safe space to admit all this shit though, they think Javier is one of the guys for whatever reason, so why shouldn't he use that to his advantage?

As Erick is swapping places with Randy, Javier opens his mouth and poses a question to him that he's been wondering about for the longest time. “So... Erick, uh... have you ever, y'know? Dipped your pen in the company ink so to speak?”

Ericks shoulders shake with laughter as he shakes his head. “No, I'm not like Randall here, I don't shit where I eat.” He groans as he bends down to place his ball on the tee.

Javier reads between the lines enough to sense that there's more to that though and he's about to ask but Randy cuts in again. “Listen, Erick with a k. Don't act all holier than thou just because you haven't stepped out recently. I was there at your bachelor party and your 35th birthday. You're no better than I am, my guy.”

And there it is, the rationale he's been looking for. Erick has cheated on you before, at least twice.

Erick half turns on the spot, eyes flickering between Randy and Javier, slightly panicked. Randy quickly catches onto what that look means and he scoffs out a dry laugh. “What? You're worried Javi here is gonna tell her about it? He's one of us, aren't you Jav? I heard about your little indiscretion when you were with Lorraine. Can't say I blame you though bud, even back then she was a handful.”

The phrase 'he's one of us' makes Javier want to beat Randy's face in while screaming 'I'm nothing like you!' Fuck these guys, Javier may not have the best moral compass, but at least he's not as bad as them.

Just smile and get through the rest of the holes, then tell her everything after.

“Uh, yeah, yeah I'm not gonna say a word to her, us guys have gotta stick together right?” Javier tells Erick and watches as his shoulders deflate with relief. Either Javier is a better actor than he thought he was or these two really are dumb.

“Thank god because she's got a real mean streak when she's angry ain't she!” Erick jokes as he turns back to take his shot.

“Yeah but a little fire is what makes her hot!” Randy chimes in.

“Don't you fucking dare try and make a move on my wife Randy!”

“Oh c'mon, we can share! I'll show her a real good time and you can borrow Lorraine, at least the woman is good at sucking dick. That's one plus about her.”

Javier's quietly seething, maybe he'll tell Lorraine about all this too, but then they'll know he said something. No, he has to play it smart, leave a trail of breadcrumbs for her to find on her own somehow. As much as he has a disliking for Lorraine, she doesn't deserve to be treated like this, not after what Javier did, and certainly not by the father of her children. He'll think of something.

He pretty much blocks out the rest of their disgusting conversation, now single-handedly focused on telling you everything the second he can.

By the time they get to the next hole, Javier's got them completely tuned out, bickering again as Randy poorly steers the golf cart across the green. A snapping set of fingers in front of his face brings him back again though, once again dragged into whatever discourse they're having. “Yo, earth to Javi?” Randy says with a dry chuckle. “Damn, whoever this chick is, she's really got you whipped huh? C'mon hole 12 bud, only 6 more to go!”

Javier has to endure this for 6 more holes. He's going to need a big drink after.

///

By hole 17, Javier's eyes feel heavy, he's losing by fuck knows how many holes, but he doesn't care, he's winning in every other sense after all.

Just as Javier's about to take his swing a loud clap of a gunshot rings out and Javier instinctively goes for a holster that isn't there, reaching for a gun that also isn't there while throwing his golf club to the ground. Its reflexive and jarring all at once. His heart pounds against his ribcage as he looks around for the source of the shot, wide eyed with panic and suddenly he's no longer on the golfing green, no, he's back on the streets of Bogotá surrounded by the limp and lifeless bodies of everyone he lost or failed while he was down there while a puddle of blood forms at his feet.

Just as he feels the panic attack start to build in his chest, a rough shake of his shoulder snaps him out of it and when he opens his eyes again, he's greeted by the concerned faces of Erick and Randy.

“Woah, Javier buddy are you good?” Randy asks first.

“Yeah man, are you okay? You're kinda freaking us out here.” Erick adds.

Javier is far from 'good' or 'okay'. He hasn't had anything like that happen to him for a long time, not since that first month he returned from Colombia when it would happen almost every day with any loud noise. That's when he took up smoking again after the hundredth time of trying to give up, the nicotine helped and that's also when he got the offer of sheriff and slowly he started to feel like he slipping back into a 'normal' life again after that. So for this to hit him so out of the blue, is unexpected and unwelcome to say the least.

The first thing he does is look down at his feet, no blood, only the perfectly manicured grass below him and then he has to remind himself to breathe, this is reality, right here and now. “W-what... there was a gun shot...” He stutters out, looking around again for where it came from, but in less frantic now.

“Oh that? The country club also operates a hunting club on the other side of the woods, probably just a buncha guys out shooting fowl. You sure you're okay man? You're not lookin' so hot right now.” Randy says with a casual laugh that makes Javier want to knock all his teeth out there and then.

“Uh... actually, I gotta go...” Javier tells them with a shake of his head as he picks up the club off the ground and shoves it into Randy's hands leaving the two men confused as Javi pushes through them and starts a hasty walk back across the green towards the parking lot.

Randy and Erick exchange semi bemused looks behind his back and the former of the two can't resist making a joke at Javier's expense as they watch him walk away. “C'mon brother, we only had one more hole left! You didn't have a fake a fucking panic attack just because you're a sore loser my guy!”

That's what does it. That's what stops Javier in his tracks. He made it all of twenty feet away from them before he's rooted in place, hands curling into fists before he turns around and stalks back towards them with a face like thunder. “The fuck did you just say to me pendejo?” Javier spits out as he swiftly closes the gap, Erick tries to get in the way but Javier just shoves him out of the way and grabs Randy by the collar and yanks him closer until they're practically nose to nose.

“Woah! Woah! Easy... I-I was just joking around! Didn't mean anything by it!” Randy quickly backtracks, holding his hands up in surrender, looking like a scared little boy, stumbling over his words with fearful eyes.

Erick tries to intervene again, pushing his hand between their bodies to shove Javier back a step, forcing him to let go of Randy's collar. “Dude stop! It was just a joke, Randy's an asshole, he's like this with everyone! He can't help it!”

“Jokes are supposed to be fucking funny! You know what is a fucking joke? The two of you. Looking at me like I have something wrong with me when you're the ones running around on your wives! Talking about them like they're shit on the bottom of your shoe instead of actual people!” Javier directs that last part right at Randy “Don't you ever compare me to the two of you ever again, because I am nothing like either of you pieces of shit! Go fuck yourselves, god knows neither of you know how to fuck your wives anyway by the sounds of things!”

They're like two gormless idiots with their jaws hanging slack in shock as Javier turns and walks away again, with only one thing on his mind now, you.

“Hey what the fuck do you mean by–“ Randy calls out and takes a step forward but Erick stops him with a hand on his chest.

“Man, just let him go. Clearly got a fuckin' screw loose or something, c'mon lets finish up this round and we'll go grab a drink.” Javier hears it all behind him, but he doesn't care, he needs to talk to you, he needs to see you.

///

By the time he makes it back to his car, his hair is sweaty and sticking to his forehead and his hands are shaking as he fumbles to get the keys in the lock, he needs to hear your voice, he needs to hold you, he needs you to know the truth.

With just enough focus left, he manages to get his seatbelt on and start the car with his cellphone wedged between his shoulder and ear as it rings out, waiting for you to answer, when you finally do, he's already back on the road, driving away from the country club with a destination already in mind.

“Javi?” Your voice is like an instant soothing balm for his soul and he finally feels like he can breathe again.

“Hermosa” He says with a sigh “I-I'm sorry I just needed to talk to you, I know I'm supposed to be giving you some space but..I-I needed to hear your voice and I need to see you...Please...”

Javier can't even try to hide the waiver in his voice, even if he did, you know him well enough to know when he's not okay, he could never really hide how he's feeling from you.

“Javi, talk to me baby what happened? I thought you were golfing with Randy and Erick, what did they do?” You don't even realise you'd dropped the pet name so casually and Javier can't deny the fact that he likes the way it sounds when it rolls off your tounge.

“I'll tell you when I see you okay? Just... please, I need to see you right now.”

There's a split second pause on the other end of the phone before you speak again. “Alright. Where?”

///

You were hesitant at first when Javier suggested meeting at a motel, but this didn't sound like a conversation that could be had in public and neither of you could risk doing this at home, not when Erick could return home at any moment and Javier lives with his dad on the ranch. He promised you no funny business and if you were being honest with yourself, you'd been anxious and on edge all day with him at the forefront of your mind knowing he was out with your husband and Randy.

So that's how you find yourself in the parking lot of a seedy, pay-by-the hour motel just off the interstate, checking your appearance in the mirror of the sun-visor before you get out of the car in search for the room number that Javier had sent you by text just as you were heading on over.

When you find room number 111, the door painted red with scratches and peeling paint on every corner, there's a moment where you freeze with your hand mid air, ready to knock. Javier had said 'no funny business', but he's been on your mind every second of every day for the longest time and all week long, all you've wanted is to be near him, to touch him and now you're about to be alone again.

Talk. You need to talk.

You rap your knuckles softly against the wood and hear some movement from behind the door and within no time at all, you're face to face with the man who's plaguing your every thought. Your heart skips a beat and then immediately sinks into your stomach when you see the broken expression on his face, you've seen him angry, you've seen him sad, you've seen him happy, but this? This isn't a look you've ever seen on his face.

“Javi? What is it?” Without even a second thought, you're stepping inside the room, and your arms are encircling in a tight, comforting hug as he closes the door behind you and buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Needed to see you...I...fuck...I'm so sorry hermosa.” His hot breath tickles against your skin as he speaks and you pull back to look at him, taking his face into your hands as your eyes search his, seeing watery brown eyes staring back at you.

“Hey... sorry for what? What the fuck happened today Javi? All day long my stomach's been in knots and I can't stop thinking about you and–“

“He cheated on you!” Javier blurts out and immediately regrets the delivery of that news when he sees your face fall and for a moment he thinks you're about to get upset about it. “I'm so sorry baby, I... Randy is cheating on Lorraine a-and they were being so fucking casual about it around me because they thought I was like them. Randy let it slip and said something about Erick's bachelor party and 35th birthday?” Your hands drop from his face and Javier's brain is in a panic thinking he's fucked up telling you all this. “Hermosa, please I'm so sorry, please don't go...”

As you stare off at the wall behind Javier and process this news, you go through a range of emotions in the span of just a few seconds, the five stages of grief crammed into a short amount of time while your mind races to think back to those times. Your husband, who at one point you thought loved you and you thought you loved him too, had cheated on you before your wedding and still went through with it knowing he'd already tarnished your entire marriage and then he did it again just a few years prior. You remember that weekend vividly, he'd gone away for the weekend on a 'boys trip' and when he returned he'd been all squirrelly with the details and overly affectionate for a long time before eventually the flowers and random gifts stopped coming and he went back to his normal, negligent self. It all falls into place and your gaze moves back to meet Javier's eyes.

He's just quietly staring at you, waiting for the shoe to drop, waiting for you to leave again, all because he fucked up and dropped this atomic bomb sized piece of news on you without thinking.

But that doesn't come, you don't leave.

Instead you reach out and grab his shirt, pulling him into you as your lips crash into his desperately. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up and realise that you're not angry with him but when it does, there's no stopping him, his hands are on you in an instant, a hand on either side of your hips as he pushes you flush against the door. His tongue slips between your parted lips making the both of you groan into each others mouths as his hands slide under your shirt and up to cup your breast over the lace of your bra.

You pull back for a second, panting against his mouth as his thumb rubs over the stiffening peak of your nipple. “Javi..”

His mouth drops to your jaw, trailing his lips down to your neck as he kisses and nibbles at the sensitive skin just where your pulse point is. “Tell me to stop and I'll stop.”

His teeth grazing on your skin is highly distracting, forming a logical thought proves to be difficult as you whine and fist your hand into his hair. You'd had all week to think about what you wanted and while your intentions were to come here and talk it out with him, tell him that yes you do want this, the news of your husbands affairs sealed the deal for you. You were done running too. Javier was what you wanted.

As his lips find your collarbone, the words come tumbling out of you in a breathy plea, the two words that give him the green light to do what ever he wants, because you want it too. “Don't stop.”

Those two words were like a trigger being pulled on a gun, the moment they leave your mouth he's pulling his hand out from under your shirt and tugging your t-shirt off over your head, throwing it to the stained carpet below your feet. He urges you to kick your shoes off while he works on unbuttoning your jeans and in no time at all, he has you in your bra and panties. The two of you just stare at each other for a moment, breathing just as heavily as one another with desire and need coursing through your veins. His eyes travel slowly down your body like a predator sizing up their prey, taking in every dip and curve of your frame. Just above your hips, he notices two faded, white scars either side of your stomach, he'll ask about those later, right now he just wants to make you feel good.

When you reach out to undress him now, he doesn't back away, raising his arms over his head as you pull off his dark polo and drop it to the pile of clothes on the ground that's forming beside you. The last time you saw Javier shirtless was back in college, he's a lot broader now, the skin on his chest it dotted with more freckles than you can count but all you know is you want to run your tongue along every single one of them and connect them like constellations.

When you go to unbutton his jeans he catches your wrist and tugs you against him while his free hand snakes up to the clasp of your bra behind your back. “Not yet.. got some things I wanna do to you first Hermosa, can't have you getting distracted” The little whine in protest you let out makes him chuckle darkly against your ear, a deep rumbling sound. “Trust me baby, it'll all be worth it.”

The clasp pings open on his last word and he wastes no time in pulling it free from your chest, immediately dipping his head down to take your nipple into his mouth, making you keen and arch into him while you tug harder on his hair. “Javi...”

He boosts you up against the door as his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud, sucking and gently biting it between his teeth before he pulls back with a wet pop. “Everything about you is so fucking beautiful and perfect.. its not fair...” Before you have a chance to even think or respond, he moves over to the other breast, lavishing it with the same attention he'd given its twin.

Everything he's doing is driving you to insanity, you're so lost in all of it that you didn't feel his hand sliding under the waistband of your panties until his fingers are on your clit and he's groaning against your breast. “So fucking responsive too... god you really are perfect...”

You whine and keen again. “Javi, please I need you so bad... just take me to bed and fuck me.”

He lets out a low growl against your skin as he sinks two fingers inside your tight heat and curls them just right while his thumb circles your clit. You're already soaked for him and he definitely could and he absolutely would just throw you on the bed and fuck you stupid, in a god damn heartbeat, if you were some random he'd met at a bar or a girl he'd paid for, but you weren't just any girl. He doesn't want to rush this, not when this moment has been on his mind for over twenty years, not when you're owed so much more after years of disappointing quickies with your husband when it should have been Javier in his place. Javier's thought about all the 'what-if's' too and in every scenario he's ever thought out, you were always the one he came home to. He would have made sure you knew how loved and desired you were, every single night if you'd let him. So no, despite how your plea makes his cock jump in his jeans, he's not going to give in, he's got lost time to make up for and he intends to do that, one mind blowing orgasm at a time.

It doesn't take long before your first orgasm crashes over you while his fingers pump in and out of your pulsing cunt,the lewd squelching mingles with your beautiful moans and the muffled groans in his throat as his lips stay attached to your nipple while he fucks you through it. Your legs were shaking and buckling beneath you, the only thing keeping you upright was the fact that you were sandwiched between Javier and the door.

He pulls off your nipple and lifts his head to watch the blissful post-ecstacy settle on your face, making your already beautiful features just that little bit more divine. Your eyes are heavy lidded as you look at him while his fingers slow, but don't completely stop inside you. “C'mon baby, give me another and then i'll take you to bed, promise.” He murmurs with a smirk, already starting to pick up the pace once more.

“Javi!” You gasp and arch off the door into his hand.

“I know baby, I know, just one more for me, please. Wanna make you feel good.” He coos as the pads of his fingers slowly drag along your g-spot and your eyes roll back in your head as you cry out.

All week long, you've been craving having his fingers back inside you once more like this, you didn't think it could get any better than the last time but it is.

In a haze of pleasure, you lift your head off the door and chase his lips for a kiss, moaning into each others mouths when he pulls a second climax from you, swallowing all your sobs as your release coats his fingers and drips down his knuckles.

Once your walls stop fluttering, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you and lifts them to your lips. “Taste how sweet she is hermosa. Taste how fucking perfect you are.”

He watches intently as your lips wrap around his two fingers and you suck them clean, while your eyes stay firmly fixed on him. You do like the way you taste.

“Fucking beautiful like this, look at you.” He pulls his fingers from between your lips and has his arms hook under your thighs, lifting you off the ground in one swift movement, making you yelp and giggle as he carries you bridal style to the bed.

“I don't even wanna think about how many people have probably fucked on these sheets.” You snicker as he tosses you gently onto the bed and crawls on top of you, grinning widely.

“So don't think about it, dumbass. Don't ruin it.” He chides playfully as he flips you onto your stomach and urges you up onto your hands and knees. “Promise you, someday I'll be fucking you in our own bed.” He murmurs as his lips make their way down the curve of your spine and he's tugging your panties down your hips.

The combination of his kisses and his words make you shiver, the promise of a future with him is all you've ever wanted.

He places a kiss on your ass cheek as he eases your panties off the end of your feet and finally, he has you bare.

Javier sits back on his haunches for a moment to admire you, knees apart with your most intimate areas on display like a feast all for him and feast he will.

“Javi what..” Your words are cut off by your own gasp as he dives between your legs and licks a broad stripe from your clit to your entrance while his big hands grip your ass cheeks and hold them apart.

He's missed the taste of you all week, he swears he could taste you on his tongue for days after what happened in his office, he's been dreaming of getting a taste of you again, like a new addiction he can't kick. “Needed this so badly” He groans against you before plunging his tongue inside you and you moan throatily.

You rock back against his mouth, seeking more stimulation and Javier can take a hint, one of his hands slides down the curve of your ass check and between your thighs to take care of your lonely swollen clit. His fat tongue swirls inside you as you drop your head to the sheets, resisting the urge to bite into them, instead you use your hand. Javier hears your muffled moans and pulls his tongue away long enough to see what you're doing and he delivers a swift playful swat to your ass cheek, making you squeal. ”None of that, let me hear you. Don't have to be quiet here. Just let it all out beautiful.” He tells you sternly before going right back to eating you out with a hunger and fervour that borders on unhinged. You feel the mattress rocking behind you as Javier ruts into it, so worked up by getting you off like this, he needed to feel the friction.

His fingers work your clit faster as you grip at the ugly patterned sheets tighter and your cries get louder, you're on the edge of heaven, you're sure of it. You're a trembling, sobbing mess when your juices soak his chin, Javier's deep groans vibrate into your pussy as his tongue twists inside you, not letting a single sweet drop get away from him.

Not more than a couple of minutes later, he's pulling another earth shattering climax from you, you're quivering so much that your arms give out and you drop into the sheets, sated and over stimulated and finally he pulls back, placing a wet kiss on the inside of your thigh as he pulls back and admires the sight of your puffy pussy. “Fuck me...You really should see yourself right now... Pretty as a picture like this...” Javier rasps as he lightly swats your sensitive core, following it up with a soothing rub with the heel of his palm that makes you whimper and squirm.

“Javi.. Oh fuck..T-too much... need you to fuck me please.”

As much as Javier was enjoying the teasing, he couldn't hold back any more, his cock had been hard this whole time and he was aching to be inside you.

When you feel some jostling behind you, you lazily turn over onto your back, sinking back into the flat pillows to watch him remove his jeans. With his eyes on your naked form, he unbuttons his jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper. One last tease before the two of you make the final leap thats been twenty years in the making.

You sit up on your elbows to watch as he pushes the denim down his sturdy thighs and finally, finally, you lay your eyes on his dick.

And its every bit as magnificent as the rumours had said they were.

Thick and long, with a slight curve towards his stomach with a dark mass of untamed curls framing his perfect length. At least 8 inches and absolutely bigger than your husbands, without a doubt. He wasn't wearing underwear though, you note and now you're wondering if that's a regular occurrence for him, you'll have fun finding out, no doubt.

Your breath shudders as you watch him kick off his jeans and wrap his fist around the base of his cock, slowly pumping it as he crawls back onto the bed.

You need to do one last thing before you commit to this final act of adultery with him, not that your marriage was ever salvageable anyway, but as one final fuck you to Erick, you slip off your gold wedding band and set it down on the night stand before Javi wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap while he sits back on his heels.

The warm, weeping tip of his cock rubs deliciously through your folds, nudging against the tender nub as both of you share sighs of delight. “Javi” You breathe his name as your arms loop around his neck and his big palm slides up from your hip to the back of your neck drawing you in for a kiss. More tender and sweet this time, savouring the way your body and lips feel against his.

He guides your hip as you rock them shallowly against him in an attempt to blindly notch him at your entrance and when you do manage to, there's an electrifying moment when the tip of his cock breeches you for the first time. It makes both of you still and gasp into each others mouths sharing breaths. You feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes from both how right this feels and from how long you've wanted this.

With his guidance, you slowly sink all the way down onto his cock, basking in the sweet sting and stretch as Javier swallows your moans. You feel so impossibly full of him, its breathtaking, the way your bodies fit together so perfectly. When the tip of his dick kisses your cervix, he holds you still and pulls back just enough to look at you. When he see's the glassy and watery look in your eyes, his hand slides up from your neck to cup your cheek, swiping his thumb over an errant tear that escaped your eye. “Hermosa.” He sighs with soft and concerned eyes slowly roaming over your face “We can stop if its too much right now.” As much as Javier wants this, he doesn't want the memory to be spoiled by guilt or regret, he knows this is the final nail in the coffin of your marriage and he's not taking it lightly.

You let out a shaky little chuckle and shake your head as you swipe away the tears with your knuckle. “No, christ, I don't want to stop, its not that. Just wanted this for a long time and now its finally happening it's... it's overwhelming in the best way possible y'know?”

He does know, of course he does. In the years that you'd lost touch while he was away in Colombia, not a day went by when he didn't think about you or think about reaching out to you, but fear held him back. Fear held him back for the longest time and even now with you in his arms, there's still an ember of fear low in his gut.

He doesn't want to lose you again or fuck this up in any way. Not again, not with you.

When you take the initiative and start to move on top of him, Javier lets you, lowering his hand back down to grip your hips aiding you in winding your hips in shallow downward thrusts. Your hands move to his shoulders, bracing yourself against the broad expanse of flesh as you whine and gasp lightly.

Javier can't take his eyes off of you in this moment, the way your face contorts in pleasure as you ride him is nothing short of a work of art, he'll see this behind his eyes when he closes them from now on, replacing any bad memories that may have claimed their place there before. All he see's is you.

His hands slip from your hips to your ass, gripping each globe as he urges you deeper and faster, resisting the urge to start thrusting up into you just yet. Not yet, he wants you to take what you need first. “Thats it baby – fuck, shit – So fucking tight. Gripping me like a vice. Look at my pretty girl taking me so good.”

You gasp when he surges forward and sucks your nipple between his teeth and your hands fly into his hair, gripping and tugging it between your fingers as you grind your clit down into the coarse hairs at the base of his cock while he groans against your breast.

Your head is tipped back as your unbridled moans fill the motel room. The old mattress springs protest and the bed frame creaks loudly, but neither of you care right now, you're both too lost in each other to care about anything else right now. Nothing exists outside of this room, your lives before this moment never happened and your lives after this moment don't matter. All the two of you know is the dizzying pleasure of the connection you share.

When Javier pulls off your breast, he slips his thumb into your mouth and your eyes close with a delighted hum, swirling your thumb around the thick digit. “That's it baby, get it nice and wet for me. Wanna try something. Do you trust me?”

Your eyes ping open and his thumb slips out of your mouth, rubbing the slick spit along your bottom lip as he waits for your answer. Its hard to form words when his dick is making you delirious, but you do trust him and whatever he wants to do to you can only possibly heighten your already ecstatic pleasure so you manage to nod dumbly and gasp out a yes.

His lips stretch into a charming grin and its honestly infuriating how even now, in the throes of passion, that he can look this good.

“Atta girl.” He coos as that slick thumb moves from your lip, to the stiff peak of your nipple before his hand disappears behind you. You jolt when you feel the spit-coated appendage circling your tight hole, its gentle and new and you see him watching your face carefully for any signs of discomfort or hesitance, but when he sees nothing but curiosity and heat in your gaze, he adds just that little bit more pressure to his touch, not quite pushing inside just yet. “You ever tried this before? Tell me to stop if you don't want it, baby.”

Your sex life has been regretfully vanilla for most of your adult life, while you'd been open to exploring your kinks with toys and outfits, your husband just never wanted to put in the work or effort. So, no, you'd never explored anal play with anyone before and until a 6 days ago, you'd never really considered the idea of cheating on your spouse. That is until Javier walked into that bathroom. He's the crux in all this, the turning point in your life that you so desperately needed. “Please Javi, I want it, make me feel good.”

“Dirty girl. Hold still for a sec.” He murmurs before gently easing the tip of his thumb inside you past the tight ring of muscles.

“Oh my god!” You cry out, gripping his hair tighter as you arch back. Yeah you like it.

“Shit, that's the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen.” He says with a groan as he starts to thrust up into you and you meet him with your own.

Your tits bounce wildly with every thrust and all Javier can do is stare in awe. He's completely transfixed by your beauty and the way your body moves for him.

Your jaw hangs slack as continuous wanton sounds and cries tumble from you, while his jaw is set and tense in place as he ruts up into you furiously, hitting that one spot inside you over and over again that has you seeing stars. He knows your close again and so is he, but he needs to draw one last orgasm from you before his own body surrenders, he needs to feel you come around him, so he can compare it to the fantasy he'd built up in his brain over the years.

“No one else gets to see you like this. Not any more. Not ever again.” He grits out as he wiggles his thumb deeper into your back passage and pulls you down harder onto his cock.

When he'd heard from his pops that you'd gotten married while he was away, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to break shit and call you and ask how you could have done this to him, why you couldn't just wait for him. Instead he turned to booze and sex to numb the pain. He knew he had no right to be jealous, the two of you had never been a thing anyway. He didn't even know how you felt about him back then, but now? Now he's got you and if your dirtbag of a husband lays a finger on you, he'll break it in two.

“Yes! Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck Javi! Don't stop!” You sound so far beyond wrecked, he knows Erick could have never possibly had you making noises for him like this.

You're pliant to Javier now, he's taken over with the heavy lifting and all you can do is hold on for the ride.

Nothing about this feels wrong.

His fingertips dimple in the plump skin of your ass cheek as he spears you on his cock over and over again, his brow is furrowed in deep concentration as errant sweaty curls stick to his forehead. His rhythm is brutal and unforgiving and the poorly built bed is groaning with every movement.

Its all too much, with his thumb in your ass and the magic he's working with his cock, you know you won't be able to hold on much longer.

It's not long before you seize up on top of him, letting out a strangled cry as you come hard and its all he can do not to come too with the way your pussy is clamping his cock, he holds back until you're lucid enough to ask you where you want it. “Inside” You gasp as he doesn't slow but his thrusts do falter and then all it takes it one, two more deep jerks of his hips and he's following you right over the edge, kissing and groaning against your jaw as you go boneless against him.

Javier spills inside you, filling you with thick, hot ropes of his spend. “Dios mio” he mumbles breathlessly against your skin while you gently run your fingers through his hair and hold him through it.

He eases his thumb out of you and it makes your breath catch, already missing the feeling.

Eventually, when your breathing has evened out, you pull back to look at him and you both have matching sated grins on your expression, you're about to lean in and kiss him when the bed shifts and one of the wooden legs breaks in half, sending you both tumbling to the floor.

A beat passes and when you both realise what just happened, you burst out into fits of unrestrained laughter, with Javier laughing right beside you as he pulls you into his chest and places kisses along your sweaty hairline.

You'd never broken a bed during sex before.

Its a day of firsts for you, apparently.

///

Thank you so much if you made it this far and for all the love and support on the series! It genuinely means so much to me to see all the comments and reblogs and I really hope you all enjoyed this chapter just as much as the last two, despite the amount of angst.

npt: @baronessvonglitter @slimybeth69 @letsgobarbs @joelmillerisapunk @thundermartini @itwasntimethatdidit40 @gothcsz @almostempty @professionalpromqueen

taglist: @gossipgirl-03 @doblasftcisco @half-moon16 @peepawispunk @carmyxxx15 @titabel @oldmenenthusiast @nannniibobanni @harriedandharassed @axshadows @barnescamboy @suzysface @lovesbysblog @pedrohoe04 @pedrospurplerain @lilac-boo @dontlookatme121 @jessthebaker @lovehappyloki @mamustreads @indiegirlunited @bonezone44  @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @callmecath1 @anoverwhelmingdin @ameenvie @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack @southernbe @bbyanarchist @misstokyo7love @mewantpeepaw @samanthajonees @https-murdock @sunshinehaze1 @cheekychaos28 @kirsteng42 @miss-oranje-disco-dancer @wildemaven @mlg72712

Joel doesn’t enjoy the fact that you and Sarah seem to butt heads but he told her to ‘be nice’, so she is for his sake, even if the side eye she gives you every time she comes over is less than subtle.

But, you’re already insisting that the girls call you ‘Meemaw’ too. Awwwh so sweet of you.

Joel wakes up and you’re there, Joel goes to sleep and you’re there. He’s never been so dehydrated and happy in his entire life.

Delirious even, so much so that he hasn’t even noticed that you’re slowly moving your stuff into his house. Long gone is that poster above his bed that read ‘TACOS AND BEER’, now it’s been replaced by a cute canvas picture of a puppy in a tea-cup and for some reason he keeps finding little bowls of dried flowers in every room? He thought potpourri was some fancy French dish, boy was he wrong, it tastes like shit. You have such an eye for interior design, where would he be without you?

Every day he’d come home from a long day on the construction site, tired as a dog. His old, weary bones would be crying out for rest, but with you, rest didn’t exist.

When he decided to get involved with you, he hadn’t counted on the fact that you’re young and active and while that has a multitude of benefits in the bedroom, it can be a little irritating at times when he just wants to put his feet up at the end of the day. Not that he’d ever admit that to you.

Joel told you once that your perfume was a little too strong and you punished him by hiding all his underwear and replacing them with a single red lacy thong. The next three days that followed were hell, he had no idea how you ladies walked around in these things, not to mention there’s zero room for his balls.

So he’d grin and bear it, for you... mainly for the pussy, but also for you. Kind of.

Long gone are the evenings spent falling asleep in front of the TV with a microwave dinner in his belly, no no, you expected him to do things when he got home and you wanted him to dick you down every night? Something had to give.

That something happened on the morning of day 37 when Joel was getting out of the shower. You’d dragged him to a salsa dancing class three nights prior and ever since his old knees had been screaming at him to rest, every part of his body was in fact. He couldn’t make love to you like you wanted him to since then and while you’d said it was fine he could tell it wasn’t really fine. He still doesn’t understand why women do that, do you expect him to be a mind reader or something?

With a towel slung around his waist, Joel wanders into the bedroom, ready to dry himself of, slather Bengay all over his body and get ready for another day of work.

Just as he steps foot across the threshold he sees you, foot propped up on the trunk at the end of his bed as you tie your laces, leggings on and fitting beautifully as ever, god your ass looks so good in those. Despite his aches and pains, he can feel his cock twitch under the towel, maybe he’ll jerk off once you leave for your run? He hasn’t had to do that to himself in over a month because of you but—

When you’re done tying your laces and standing at full height once more, he sees it. Your t-shirt. It’s got a printed design on the front of it and for a moment he thinks his eyes a tricking him but they’re not. No it’s definitely him.

Spread eagle with his hand on his crotch and that dumbstruck look on his face, you’ve gone ahead and got that fucking photo you took of him on the first day you met printed onto a shirt and by the looks of it you have every intention of wearing that out in public on your run.

That’s it, that’s the straw that broke the camels back.

“What the fuck is that?” He doesn’t even bother to hide his annoyance, you don’t scare him.

“Oh you like it? I had it made especially! It’s my favourite photo of you pookie bear!” Joel can’t tell if you’re being serious or snarky right now, but you’re looking at him with the proudest fucking grin ever like you’re a child proudly displaying their art work.

“No I don’t fuckin’ like it. Are you crazy? You can’t wear that outside! Take it off.”

Your expression falls for a split second but that grin just comes back even bigger and brighter, this should concern him, right? “Oh don’t be silly! I want the whole world to see my pookie bear and how cute and silly he is!”

Okay, you’re dead serious, you’re going to go outside wearing that thing. In his neighbourhood. Sarah and the girls only live down the street, what if they see it!?

“No! I forbid you from wearin’ that fuckin thing outside. Now take it off.” He knows he’s treading dangerous waters ‘forbidding’ you from doing anything, but come on, this is a little unhinged, even for you.

The mood quickly shifts in the room now, you go from grinning like a Cheshire cat to balling your eyes out in about two seconds flat. Joel feels a little guilty for shouting at you but those wailing sobs you’re letting out are so over dramatic, it’s obvious you’re faking to try and make him feel bad with crocodile tears.

“I- I thought you’d like it! I thought you’d like the fact that I want you close to me at all times!” Oh boy, you’re cuckoo for cocoa puffs that’s for sure.

“Darlin’ it’s nice that ya wanna be close to me but can’t you find another way t’do that? A way that doesn’t embarrass me like putting it in a locket or—”

“Oh so I embarrass you now too!?” The fake tears have ceased and you’re now staring at him wide eyed and unblinking, it’s unnerving.

“No! Christ, you’re over reacting here baby, all I meant was—”

“Oh so I’m overreacting too? Nice Joel, real nice.” You say with an indignant huff, in the blink of an eye you’ve pulled out the overnight bag you bought with you over a month ago and you’re stomping around the bedroom shoving things into it. “You don’t appreciate me. I try and do something nice and you throw it back in my face!”

Don’t fall for it Miller, don’t take the bait, it’s what she wants. Sure the pussy is good but if you’re not careful she’ll get her hooks into you and never leave. Sarah was right, you are trouble.

Instead of giving in and begging you to stay like you want him to, he just let’s you get on with it, crossing his arms over his chest as you dart from the dresser to the closet, making sure to slam every door and drawer along the way, occasionally giving him a scowl that would rival a Disney villain. It’s almost comical actually how over the top you’re being.

Eventually, your bag is packed to the brim and you have the teacup puppy picture tucked under your arm, as you storm over to him where Joel stands in the doorway, trying his best to hold back the look of amusement off his expression.

“Well this is it! I hope you know what you’re gonna be missing! Good luck ever finding pussy and ass good as mine again!”

Joel will miss his two favourite holes, but he doesn’t think he’ll miss the woman they belong to. “I’m sure I’ll survive somehow, darlin’” He can’t help it, Joel’s a snarky bastard by nature and it’s just too good of an opportunity to pass up when you’re like this.

All of a sudden you’ve dropped your stuff to the ground and you’re lowering yourself to your knees in front of him until you’re eye level with his crotch. Oh no. No no no. Miller do not let her draw you back in like some kind of crazy cock sucking succubus don’t you dare!

“What the fuck are you doing? Get up.”

Your hands are creeping up his thighs under the towel as you look up at him from your knees through your lashes, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “C’mon pookie bear... How about I suck your dick just one last time, for old times sake huh? I’ll make it real good for you... I promise...”

Joel would be lying to himself if he said a ‘one for the road’ blowjob didn’t sound good right now, especially with the way you’re kissing his cock through the towel and with how your nails are digging into the meat of his thighs. He is getting hard, that groan did just slip from his own mouth. Fuck it, one more won’t hurt right?

Joel fists his hand into your hair and tugs your head back, eliciting a noise from you that’s somewhere between a gasp and a moan as he forces you to look up at him “Fine. But after this, you and me are done. We clear on that?” you answer him with a a shallow nod, but he wants to hear it straight from the she-devils lips “Use your words sweetheart or you can forget about it” Joel’s hand twists further into your hair to further emphasise his point and the way you clench your thighs together in response doesn’t go unnoticed.  He’ll miss this side of things at least.

“Yes! Yes we’re clear on that... Joel please...” Your breathy whines are going straight to his dick and in no time at all, he’s pitching a tent. Joel’s thankful that at his age, he doesn’t have to rely on that little blue pill too often, though there was that one time you asked him to take one ‘just to see’ and the two of you fucked non stop into the early hours of the next morning. He will miss that.

“Take it off me and put it in your fucking mouth then baby, get to it”

You don’t waste a single second, curling your fingers under the fold of the towel and yanking it off him as soon as the last word of his command has left his lips. His thick length springs out in front of your face as the towel falls to the floor, it has you drooling already, wetting your lips as you take a moment to admire his generous girth. The first blowjob you’d given him happened the same night Buc-ee’s did. Joel had taken you home with him and you gave him rode head on the drive back to his place with the sticky remnants of your combined orgasms still coating his dick. You really were something special.

“C’mon, put that pretty little mouth to good work before I throw your ass out and have to take care of this problem myself. Do it just how I like it.”

How he likes it is rough and sloppy, he likes to be in control, he likes it when you let him use your face as his own personal fuck toy and his warning lights a fire under you, there’s not a chance you’re leaving here without a mouthful of his cum.

No warming up, you just relax your jaw and take him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat, pulling back almost all the way off him and then all the way in again. Joel’s hand is still tightly buried in your hair but he’s not thrusting yet, as much as he wants to, he’s letting you be in control, for now, he’ll be using it for leverage soon enough.

The way you work your tongue in tandem with your lips feels like heaven to him, it’s magic, you’re a witch, you must be. It makes him almost forget about the events that happened leading up to this moment, almost, not quite.

Joel let’s out a guttural moan when the tip of his cock slips down your throat and makes you gag, the sound is lewd and almost pornographic and it’s just what the dirty old man loves. When the local video rental place was around, his selection of choice from the adult video section would always be a fellatio flick.

“That’s my girl... Take it. Take all of it, I know you can take it deeper can’t you? “

It was more of a rhetorical question, you can’t exactly answer him with a mouth stuffed full of dick, but you moan around him as a response anyway and he takes it as his cue to move, his thrusts start shallow, in time with pushing your head back and forth, but it’s not long before the primal need takes over and he’s fucking your mouth like you owe him money.

His heavy balls slap against your chin with every rapid jerk of his hips and your eyes prick with tears as they roll back in your head. The Lycra between your legs is soaked and your hand disappears under the elastic waistband. You let out a muffled moan around his cock when your fingers find your clit before you hastily slip two fingers inside yourself and roll your hips against the heel of your palm, all while he uses your mouth for his pleasure.

“Fuuuuuuck that’s so hot, gettin’ yourself off while you take my dick like the hungry little cock slut you are huh?” He groans when you gag and choke on him again and you taste the salty beginnings of his come leaking down your throat. “I’ll make sure you don’t forget this cock darlin’ you’ll never have better than mine.” You’re too cock drunk to register his words that mirror your own from earlier, but you focus your eyes just in time to see him grinning down at you wolfishly.

“Ohhh shit... I’m gonna come. Need y’to come first sweetheart, make that sweet little pussy sing f’me and I’ll give it t’ya” Joel grits out, holding your head still now as his hips do all the work as a river of saliva runs down your chin.

You’ve always liked to think of yourself as the one in control, but with Joel, during sex it’s hard not to let him take over. His words and actions are always pure filth and you can’t get enough of it, which is why your climax hits you so hard, quivering and sobbing with his cock down your throat as you gush around your fingers.

Joel follows soon after, swiftly pulling out of your mouth making you whine at the loss as you start to come to once more, he pulls on your hair, forcing your head back as he tugs on his cock, once, twice, three times before he’s spilling out all over your chest and onto that stupid fucking photo of himself. Your name gasps from his lips as he does, making sure not to waste a single drop. When he’s done and his breathing is back to normal, he drops his gaze to you on your knees and his lips stretch into the biggest, shit eating grin ever when he sees the way you’re glaring at him.

“Sorry about the shirt, darlin’. Such a shame, feel free t’borrow one of mine.” He says with a tone full of mirth, thinking he’s had the last laugh.

///

At least you left quietly after that, you’d snatched one of the shirts out of his closet and put it on over the top of the cum stained shirt.

Joel really thought he’d won that one. He got a parting blow job and he left you with no choice but to cover up that photo of him. Win-win. At least you weren’t crazy enough to walk around in public with his come all over you.

After you left with your things, again slamming doors on the way out, he dug around in his closet and found his trusty old denim button up shirt, the only thing left in there that wasn’t red. You must have missed that one and he was thankful that he didn’t have to walk around looking like a goddamn lumberjack for the rest of the day.

His day on the job site dragged on but it wasn’t a wasted day at all, now that he was single again, he went right back to his old ways, whistling at and calling out to any gorgeous piece of ass that walked on by. To be fair, he never really stopped looking while he was with you, that just wasn’t who Joel was but he did stop with the cat calling for a hot minute.

After work, Joel needed to stop off and get gas and while the thought of going to Buc-ee’s again gave him a semi, it was undeniably the easiest choice and he had a hankerin’ for some beaver nuggets.

As Joel stepped out of his truck in the parking lot, he felt like he was being watched, he glanced around and saw everyone else busy either fuelling up or loading up their cars with shopping bags, but no one was paying attention to him.

Stupid, you’re imagining things, Miller.

Joel grabs a basket on his way in to the store and starts his walk around the aisles, tossing in a few items for Sarah and his babygirls while he hums along to the Johnny Cash song that’s being pumped out through the sound system.

As he paces the aisles, he can’t shake that feeling that someone’s following him, but every time he turns, no ones looking at him, why would anyone be paying attention to some old dude buying beaver nuggets?

Stop being so paranoid.

A pretty young thing stocking the ‘world famous jerky’ wall catches his eye as she’s bent over grabbing packages out of the box, Joel would absolutely make a comment out loud about her ass right now, if it weren’t for all the families around. He does have some standards.

His head is still turned with his eyes fixed firmly on her backside as he keeps walking, not paying attention to where he’s going.

Joel collides into another person with a audible oof and a grunt, he’s about to start apologising profusely when he turns his head and see’s you standing there with a smile wider than a mile and crazy eyes to match. You’re not in any kind of gym gear, instead wearing a strappy short red sundress that hugs your curves and shows off your tits just right.

Okay, don’t jump to conclusions Joel, this could just be a coincidence. There’s no way she’s nutty enough to be following you around.

“Hi baby!” Your excited high pitched greeting immediately squashes that thought.

Uh oh.

You go to throw your arms around him and he stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. “Um. What the fuck do you think you're doing here?” Joel asks in a nervous whisper, eyes darting around to see who the witnesses will be in his murder trial.

“Oh silly pookie bear!” You say gleefully with an eye roll, playfully booping his nose. “I knew you were low on gas and you’d have to fill up on the way home so I figured, why not just meet you here instead of at home?”

You’re so perky and chipper, it’s like you’ve forgotten this morning ever even happened.

“W-wait meet me here? You mean you’ve been waiting for me?”

“Mmhmm!” you gently rock back and forth on your heals, not even blinking once.

“What the fuck? Darlin’, don’t you remember what happened this mornin’? We broke up?” Joel’s trying to be as gentle as he can be with you right now since a) he’s a little scared of you and b) there is a part of him that doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

“Ohhhh silly! Of course I remember our little fight! But we kissed and made up after!”

Okay, it’s no good, he can’t do this anymore. “Um. No the fuck we didn’t, you left and took all your stuff with you, it’s very clear that we broke up.”

“Nooooo that was just a fight, you dingus! After I sucked your dick—” You say almost at the top of your voice, making a few people turn their heads in your direction and snicker “I went away for a little bit to do some self reflection and I really feel like I did some growing up in that time, y’know? Anyways, I let myself back in while you were at work and I’m all moved back in baby! Yay!”

Joel wants a hole to open up in the ground and swallow him right now, his face is flushed beetroot red with embarrassment and from his blood pressure skyrocketing. “Wait. What the fuck? Since when did you have a fucking key?”

“I got one made when you let me borrow yours baby! Surprise!”

Oh my god. You’re certifiable.

“You did what!?” He hisses through his teeth, trying not to cause a scene. “Alright. That’s it we need to talk about this, not here.”

“You’re so right! C’mon pookie bear, I know just the place!” You grab his hand to guide him through the store and Joel reluctantly let’s you, not wanting to make you lose it in front of all the people who are now staring at him.

Joel deserts his basket by the entrance to the rest rooms as you tug him along. Why can’t you just have this discussion in his truck like a normal person? No, it has to be in a goddamn bathroom.

Saying that, he wouldn’t trust himself not to bend you over the dashboard and fuck you again. Stop that, Miller!

The two of you disappear into one of the single stall bathrooms together and Joel locks the door behind him. “Alright let’s get one thing straight h—”

His words are cut off by your lips crashing into his as he turns around to face you, making his lower back slam into the door knob. It causes him to groan out in pain and you pull away for a moment cupping his face in an almost gentle embrace. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry pookie bear, are you hurt?”

“No I’m fine and goddammit woman get offa me!” Joel huffs as he pushes your hands off his face. He has to do it, just rip the band aid off. “For fuck sake you can’t do this, we broke up this morning sweetheart! We had an agreement, you said you’d leave me alone after you sucked me off!”

“Yeah and I did! I didn’t even come by the construction site once today! I was a good girl!” Oh christ.

“What do you mean today?”

“I mean I stop by every day to keep an eye on you, silly Billy!”

“Y-you.... You stop by every day? How? I never see you?”

“I’m real good at being sneaky!”

You say it so proudly too. This whole time, this whole fucking time you’ve basically been stalking him.

“Darlin’ I’m only going to say this one more time so listen closely, okay? We. Are. Broken. Up.” He pauses to make sure you’re listening before adding “And I want your crazy ass to stay the fuck away from me, do you understand?”

A silence falls between the two of you, only broken by the soft whirr of the extraction fan, you just stare at him blankly for a moment before a little giggle tumbles from your mouth. Unbelievable.

“Oh you really had me going for a sec there baby! Are we role-playing? Cos make up sex is hot as shit and I’m not wearing any panties right now.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You just played the ace up your sleeve and all rational thought is quickly slipping out of Joel’s mind and his jeans are already just that little bit tighter.

“Don’t.” He warns, low and dangerous as you toy with the hem of your skirt.

“Don’t what?” It's said with an innocent enough smile, but your eyes flash with sin. “Don’t let you fuck me right here? Against this wall?” To make your point, you press yourself against the cool tiles, flipping your skirt up over your bare ass as you teasingly shake it at him. “C’mon baby, live a little. No one will hear us, you know these bathrooms are basically soundproof.”

Joel Miller’s brain cells have left the building, all that remains is the horny caveman brain cell. He’s doomed. He may as well accept his fate right now.

“Fuck it.” He growls as he’s hastily unzipping his jeans, shoving them down his thighs as he covers your body with his, leaving hot open mouthed kisses and bites on the curve of your neck. He nudges your feet further apart with his boot, allowing him better access to that sweet cunt of yours, slowly rocking his hips as his cock slips through your messy folds.

“Shit baby, you’ve been walking around dripping like this? Dirty girl.” Joel groans into your neck and you moan with him as his bulbous head rubs against your clit just right.

“All for you baby... oh god... please daddy, give it to me. Need it so bad.” You whine and whimper, arching back into him as your hand finds it’s way into his hair.

“Yeah? My dirty girl wants daddy’s cock that bad? Fine, take it all.” He murmurs hot against your ear before sinking into your tight heat in one powerful thrust, making both of you groan in unison.

He holds still for a moment, letting you adjust to him and when you start to rock back and beg him to fuck you, he moves hard and fast, crushing you against the tiles as your wanton cries fill the bathroom. God he really hopes you’re right about these bathrooms being soundproof, if you’re not there will probably be a whole lot of security guards waiting on the other side of the door for the two of you when you’re done.

One of his hands slips around your front, sliding up your throat and tipping your head back to expose the sensitive skin there as his other hand grips your hip for leverage, pulling your hips back as he pounds into you at a punishing pace. He’s anything but gentle right now, just how you like it, sucking and biting marks into your flesh, all the while knowing the two of you are going to have to do the walk of shame out of this bathroom after and everyone will know what you’ve been up to.

You don’t seem to care though, your moans are only getting louder the harder he fucks you against the wall and the deeper he goes inside you.

All the aches and pains of the day don’t exist right now, only pure, unadulterated carnal desire. You’d told him he fucks better than a man half his age once and with the way you respond to him, he knows you’re not lying. Nothing exists in the outside world, it’s just you and Joel and the ‘world famous’ clean bathroom that’s the home to straight up filth.

“Not so... Fuck... Crazy are ya now huh? Maybe... Mmm... All ya needed was daddy’s cock huh? Reset that brain a’ yours” He rasps hotly into your ear before sucking your earlobe between his teeth, making you mewl and arch back into him.

“Joel! Oh fuck! Right there... Just like that.”

Joel’s barely hanging on by a thread with all the racket your making, it’s the sweetest melody he’s ever heard and he’ll never get tired of it.

He knows you’re close, he can feel your pussy fluttering around him and it’s driving him wild, he’s not thinking about anything but you right now. “Come for me darlin’, give it to me honey and I’ll fill you so full’a me you’ll he leakin’ all night long” Joel promises as his hand moves from your hip, sliding down to find your clit, gently pinching it between his fingers for a second before he starts rubbing side to side frantically, desperate to bring you to climax before he let’s go himself. “Come for me!” He grits out and you do, just as he applies a little pressure to your throat that has your vision darkening around the edges.

The beautiful, lustful and slightly strangled cries make him lose control of his body and his mind.

As his hips jerk and he spills deep inside of you, his mouth takes over before his brain can even comprehend the words he’s speaking. “Marry me!”

And in your blissed out, post coital haze, smooshed between Joel and the wall, you smile lazily and answer him without missing a beat. “Yes.”

Shit.

///

Tagging: @joelmillerisapunk @itwasntimethatdidit40 @baronessvonglitter @letsgobarbs @thundermartini @morallyinept @toxicanonymity @jessthebaker @anonblogname @beardropascal @pastelpinkflowerlife @hartfragile @evolnoomym @misstokyo7love @blacktoptown @warhols @tuquoquebrute @onlythehobi @cxrsed-angel @bluesweaters15 @strawberri-blonde @tinyglamdramaqueen @604to647 @lostfleurs @queenb-42069 @gswizzstuff @tammythr

Marcus Pike who follows you around the house while eating a bowl of cereal as you tell him about your day. He enjoys hearing you speak, and listens like his life depends on it.

Marcus Pike who is not only respectful to you, but to others as well. Especially your family. He wants to work for their respect, because he knows he'll marry you some day.

Marcus Pike who is quietly possessive. He trusts you completely, but has lingering insecurities from his previous marriage. He won't say anything, but you'll feel it when he pulls you tighter to his side, or place a hand on your lower back. It's a silent claim.

Marcus Pike who doesn't easily get jealous. He won't bat an eye if he sees you talking to another man, because he knows who you go home with at the end of the day.

Marcus Pike who has a love language of physical touch; caressing your shoulder, running a hand through your hair, rubbing your back, holding you close to feel the warmth of your body.

Marcus Pike who takes pleasure in your pleasure. He makes sure to listen to and follow the boundaries that you set. He wants you to feel good, usually making you finish a handful of times before he even thinks about himself.

Marcus Pike who is a soft dom, knowing that it's you who has all the power and control, and not him. He let's you set a safeword, listens when you use the traffic light system, doesn't like to get rough with you, but will if that's what you want.

Marcus Pike who loves to take care of you afterwards; running you a warm bubble bath, washing your hair, putting one of his worn t-shirts over your head, pulling your full weight on top of him, stroking your back and hair even well after you fall asleep.

Marcus Pike who doesn't waste time when he knows you're the one. He wants a family with you–if you want a family. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Growing old and grey with you, and never changing his ways.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.