The naughtier list, p.14
The Naughtier List, page 14
“There’s some prosecco in the fridge, I think,” she says, and I grab it and uncork it while she lays out the pizza and sides.
I hand her fizzing glass over and she raises it straight in the air.
“To you and Josh. And to Belgravia. We’ll all be pleased to have you.”
“Thanks.”
I’m glad Tiff is here with me tonight as we sit ourselves down on Josh’s plush sofa and flick through the TV channels. If she wasn’t alongside me, my brain would be on overload, pulse racing at the thought of Josh with his client. The clock would be tick, tick, ticking at the rate of one agonising second an hour.
I spoke to her plenty last night when Josh was with us, but one on ones are always different – a touch more personal, when you’re out to forge a genuine friendship of your own. She’s great, laughing and joking, and distracting me with chat, but no matter how I seem to sit on the sofa, I just can’t get comfy, and it only gets worse. I’m edgy. All wriggle, wriggle, wriggle as we talk, until finally she reaches out and puts a hand on my knee.
“It’s alright,” she says. “I know it must be flipping you out, knowing he’s with a client right now. But it’s for money. Believe me. It means sweet fuck all.”
“I know,” I reply. “I mean, it’s exactly the same for me when I’m on proposals, and it won’t impact how I feel about Josh… it’s just.” I sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Be honest,” Tiff says. “Say it straight. Voice your thoughts, because you do know. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.”
Wow, she’s direct. Her gorgeous cat-flicked eyes boring straight into mine.
My insecurities want to choke me, addressed so directly.
I brace myself, and let my words run free.
“I guess I’m scared she’s better than me. And I’m scared he’ll realise I’m not good enough, or smart enough, or cool enough, and that he’s got it better with other people.”
“No,” Tiff says. “It’s not other people, is it? It’s not about every client on his proposal list. It’s other women. Especially one on one. The direct comparison.”
She’s right. It is. The thought of him fucking five guys at once has nothing on him fucking one solitary woman. I’ve got to be honest with myself. It’s the lingering fear from Connor. Of him wanting someone else more than me.
Only he didn’t, did he? Not when it came to it. The pathetic asshole tried coming right back.
“His client tonight is hot, sure,” Tiff says. “Check her out on the forum, if you want. Loads of entertainers talk about her.”
My stomach lurches at her words.
“But,” she continues, “she’s also a pain in the fucking ass. She’s a whiny, entitled bitch, who harps on about everything she could possibly perceive as negative in her grandiose lifestyle. Unless you plug her mouth up with cock, that is. Thank fuck she likes deepthroat.”
I have to giggle at that.
“It’s true,” Tiff says. “Josh is too much of a gentleman to complain about his clients, ever. He’s way too grateful for their business, and he’s far too professional to be snipy about them, but seriously.” Tiff raises a hand. “I know, because I’ve been there. She wanted to try a girl-on-girl threesome, so I accepted one of her proposals, but the whole time she wanted to outdo me. Nothing more. She wasn’t interested in pussy, she was interested in bossing me around. Which is cool, when it’s not by her.” She laughs. “Urgh, she’s annoying. I’d turn her proposal right down if she sent one again. Josh is only loyal to her because he does her stepdad as well, only she doesn’t know it. Her stepdad pays a hell of a lot more than she does, and he knows it.”
I try to wrap my head around that. Her stepdad must be… old. Old and well aware his stepdaughter is having the same guy.
“What the hell? Honestly? That sounds pretty interconnected…”
“The whole Agency is quite interconnected. So many of the clients know each other, it’s unreal. And we deal with the big payers, the higher echelons, not the general members who want to pay a couple of hundred for a bit of vanilla every few weeks. We’re in a very different ball park.”
I hadn’t really thought about it, but with the kind of money clients throw around, and with the bulk of the clients being in the city…
“This woman doesn’t know Josh fucks her stepdad? Really?”
“No, and he wouldn’t tell her. Not ever. Not just for confidentiality’s sake, but because he’s not a blabbermouth. Ever. And he won’t speak badly of his clients.” She smiles. “He’s way too nice for that. That’s why you’ll rarely ever see him in the chat group or forums. He can’t stand the bitching.” She pauses. “And believe me, if anyone tried to talk badly of me, or you, he’d shut them down in a flash.”
“Yeah, I saw that earlier.”
I tell her about the events outside my place and she beams with pride.
“Yep, that’s Josh. That’s why I love him so fucking much.”
It’s clear she’d fight to the death for him if he needed her, and that’s lovely to see. I get to hear from her side just how long they’ve been friends and how things first went down between them. She shakes her head and laughs at the memory.
“Honestly, if you’d have seen me as a teenager. I looked at Josh like he was a god, just a few years senior than me in high school. He was as hot then as he is now.” She tips her head. “Actually, that’s bullshit. He’s hotter now, but regardless, he was absolutely fucking gorgeous, right from the moment I set eyes on him. I followed him everywhere at school, desperate to hang out with him. I might have seemed like some kind of stalker psycho, but his family kinda knew mine, and it turned out we got on mega well when he finally started speaking to me. We were like two peas in a weirdo pod when we moved up towards college.”
“I can imagine that.”
I’m not lying. I can.
“You were together, weren’t you? You and Josh?”
“Yeah, for about three weeks. I was going on and on and on at him for ages, about how I wanted him to be my first and all that jazz. I was convinced we were soulmates for all time, but he wasn’t having any of it while I was still a youngster. He wouldn’t even give me a kiss as a taster. Nothing. He said he’d think about it after my eighteenth birthday. He’s always been a bloody gentleman.”
“He thought about it, then? When did you get together?”
She smirks. “His cock was my birthday present, and it was worth the wait.”
I smirk back. “Wow, what a birthday present.”
“Yep. Shame it didn’t have the ladder on it then. But, oh well, I landed lucky with it.”
So did he. That’s clear to me. Tiff is a superstar, confident in her curves with her big, fake lashes. Her scarlet hair is a beautiful cascade of curls, and she has a much bigger cleavage than me – even though I have quite a rack on me.
It seems like a good time to push deeper, carbed up on pizza, and comfy downing prosecco.
“What happened after that? Once he’d fucked you on your birthday? Didn’t it turn into the soulmate dream you were hoping for?”
“Not exactly, no. And I was so disappointed. I think we both were. For years, I’d been dreaming about how Josh and I would be the kind of couple that romance myths are made of, but of course we weren’t. We were best friends by then, and yeah, it was hot, and horny, but it didn’t take off in the fire and flames I wanted it to. Josh was just Josh, and I was still just Tiff, and we both wanted to chase after dreams we weren’t finding in each other.”
“Friend zoned.”
“Yeah. Both of us. Three weeks in, and we were sitting on the sofa on a Sunday morning, watching some utter crap neither of us would usually be watching, and I looked at him, and he was already looking at me, and it was so bloody stupid. So boring. So flat, and platonic and not like we usually were at all.” She smiles. “We both started laughing, and it turned into hysterics. It just seemed so ridiculous we’d ended up there, like that. So, we made a pact from that point onwards. Friends for ever, no more ridiculous attempts at being more.”
I focus on her eyes as she speaks, soaking in the obvious love she had for Josh.
Friend zoned.
I can’t imagine ever friend zoning Josh in a million years.
“Plus, I’d seen someone else I kinda liked at college,” Tiff says. “He was a lot more standoffish, and I liked that. I have a habit of chasing things I can’t have. Crazy infatuations. I had morning after syndrome with clients so many times after landing this job that it was insane. I felt like I was a kid in a toy shop, falling in love with my fantasies every single day.”
“Did you ever fall for any clients, for real?”
She shakes her head. “No. I just lived the fake version in my head until I got bored and another new client came along.”
I think back to the clients I had before Christmas. So many hot fantasies to dive into, and filth to unravel, and such a thump in the guts some mornings when I realised it was over.
“When was your last relationship?” I ask Tiff, and she turns back to the TV.
I feel her walls come up, just a little.
“The guy at college, actually. We were together for ages, and he, um. Yeah. It didn’t end well. It fucked me up so bad when he left, that I dreamt about him every night for over twelve months straight. Believe me, I thought I was going mad. I had a psychotherapist and everything, but no matter what happened, I couldn’t let it go. In some dreams I was even grabbing his fucking leg and begging him to speak to me.”
“Wouldn’t he speak to you?”
“No. Call it unresolved. That’s what the psychotherapist said. I hurt him, and he hurt me, and it was one big fucking mess.” She sighs. “But life is life, and look where I am now. If it wasn’t for Kian, and things hadn’t gone tits up, I wouldn’t be an entertainer, and neither would Josh. We wouldn’t be here, in Belgravia.” She nudges my leg with her foot. “And he wouldn’t have you.”
“It’s a bit early to put me in his category of life successes.”
“Nope,” she says. “The difference in him is already immense. He was almost as fucked up over Amy as I was over Kian, and that’s saying something.”
I feel so sorry for her. I hear the pain in her voice as she says his name.
Kian.
“You’ve never moved on? Never fallen for anyone else?”
“Not yet. I don’t really want to. I prefer fantasy, and filth, and not having the bullshit of reality pulling me down.” Her eyes meet mine again, full on, and there’s no doubt, she must have a queue of suitors a mile long, she’s so damn gorgeous. “Plus, I’m one of those people who thinks life happens as it should do. Things happen for a reason. And when the right guy shows up for me, I’ll know it. Maybe I’ll get the fairytale myth I’ve been dreaming of.”
I really, really hope she does.
“I’ve got a feeling you may have found yours,” she tells me. “Josh is the best guy in the world, I promise you. He’d never fuck you over, and he’s one hell of a stud in bed. He’s protective, and funny, and cool, and kind, and quirky as hell. And I’m beginning to sound like a dating profile advert, aren’t I?”
I laugh along with her, swatting her knee, because I don’t need convincing in the slightest. He’s already sold himself to me.
“You said he’s friend zoned,” I say. “But he’s also a super stud in bed. So, have you ever played it casual with him?”
“No,” she replies. “It would squick me out a bit, because he’s Josh, and I’m Tiff and we’re just friends.”
I’m still intrigued by the new society I’m a part of. I keep on pushing, trying to make sense of my own gut instincts.
“But what about Weston and Creamgirl? Would you play with him in that kind of role?”
She leans back against the cushions.
“Yeah. I guess so. I mean, being Cream isn’t being Tiff. That’s how I deal with morning after syndrome. It’s not me falling in love with the fantasies. I’m just living them out as Cream. They come and go like that. No big deal.”
I keep pushing – but it’s not paranoia, or insecurity driving me on with her. I don’t feel threatened in the slightest. No doubt, she’s as loyal as he is.
“Do you think it could be like that with you and Weston?” I ask her. “Could you switch off the emotions and let the fantasies run free?”
“Probably, yeah.” She looks at me, dead serious. “If you’re worried about something happening between me and Josh though, you needn’t be. Seriously. We aren’t ever going to be anything more than friends. That’s a promise.”
“No, no,” I say. “I’m not worried, and that isn’t to test the water or anything, I’m just curious.”
“Curious? Yeah, I bet you are. There’s an awful lot you’ve got to be curious about right now. You’re still a hot little newbie on the road to hardcore. It’s a speedy journey.” She checks the time on her phone. “And you’d better get ready for another round of curious, just over an hour until Josh gets home, and then your curiosity can notch up to the next level.”
My pussy flutters as my stomach lurches – and the prosecco definitely helps with that.
I’m getting a wine glow now, where limitations ease off into nothingness. Maybe that’s why I’m questioning Tiff with such fascination. I’ve been looking up to her as a goddess of hardcore ever since I first saw her profile.
There is something about her that fascinates me, I can’t put my finger on. But I want to put my finger on it. I want to understand the pull.
It’s Tiff who changes the conversation up, focusing back on the TV when Nighttime Whispers comes on, a gothic vampire show that we both love, and I let it rest for now, gorging on the rest of our pizza as we wait for Joshua to come home.
We’re midway through the episode when we hear the door opening at the other end of the apartment. Tiff turns the TV off in a flash, and we wait with bated breath as Josh appears.
Jesus Christ, my pulse is thumping.
His hair is messy, slick with sweat, and his tie is hanging loose, and I’m already lost – seeing him like that – any reservations of revelling in other people’s leftovers are dead in the dust.
He looks at me, and I look at him.
I get up from his sofa, but I don’t move. I can’t. I stand glued to the spot, transfixed as he steps into the kitchen area and swigs some prosecco straight from the bottle, no words said.
Because none are needed.
The tension is beyond words.
Tiff acknowledges it with a clap of her hands, and gets to her feet alongside me. She pulls me in for a token hug and tells me what a great, fun time she’s had, and how she’ll see me again soon, and then she’s off. She doesn’t hug Josh, just blows him a kiss on her way, and I see the way she winks at him.
She knows what’s about to go down here and the filth that’s about to unfold. Addictive. Intoxicating. In-bloody-sane.
No doubt, she knows it better than me… but it’s time to get learning.
“Ready for getting fucked in the aftermath?” Josh asks me as soon as she’s closed the door. “I hope you’re happy to take my cock now it’s been inside someone else’s pussy, because I swear on my life, all I’ve been thinking about is you.”
My feet move, unlocked from my trance, and I go to him. I run my hand down over his crotch, and he’s as hard as a steel bar. I imagine another woman’s mouth sucking on him, and her pussy clenching around his barbells, but the insecurities fade, swallowed up under the relief and lust. He’s back, with me. And he’s hard, for me. Even after all his hours of fucking.
“I mean it, Ella. All I’ve been thinking about is you.”
I drop to my knees without a word, and free his cock, rubbing his gorgeous, pierced shaft as I prepare to suck her remnants off him. Oh, my dirty soul – it actually makes me smile. Insecurities be damned.
Josh is mine, for free. No payment necessary. What a fucking contrast.
And oh, how my dirty soul takes advantage of it.
“Show me how you fucked her,” I say. “Just make sure you do it harder for me. And make sure I’m more of a dirty little slut for you than she was.”
“Don’t worry about that,” he says. “She’d never even come close.”
And no, she won’t do.
Josh and I have got a few nights free now between proposals, and I’m damned well going to make the most of every single filthy second.
Chapter Twelve
A few days of being holed up with Josh, and I’m well at home, towelling off my hair in the kitchen, standing next to him as he makes us coffee. I’m in one of his hoodies, ignoring my own clothes in preference of boyfriend attire, chatting away to him quite merrily when a new proposal pings through on my phone.
It’s a different notification sound than the regular one, and Josh clocks it straight off, raising his eyebrows.
“Someone’s keen,” he says. “That’s top priority. Maybe they’ve just realised you’re back from Oz.”
I dump my towel straight onto the worktop when I see the text window.
Oh my God, it’s Daddy. User 762. The guy who gave me a serious bout of morning after syndrome last time I had to leave his place and say goodbye. It seems a lifetime ago, but the memories are back in a flash.
Daddy was so hot. So forbidden, and dirty. Enough to make my heart flutter along with my pussy. I dressed up in a school uniform for him, and played his filthy game like a good little girl. Or rather a naughty little girl. Daddy gave me a damn good spanking for ‘writing smut in my notebook’. Jeez, that client put some effort into setup and roleplay, and I gave him what he wanted. I turned out to be quite a competent actress in pigtails and cute white panties.
“Good offer, then?” Josh asks as he sees the smile on my face. He stirs our coffees as I flick through the text again.
“Yeah, it’s cool,” I tell him. “It’s a client I’ve seen before. Daddy play.”
