Page 214 of Trouble from Abroad
It’s brutal.
And then his release—furious, almost punishing.
It’s fucking glorious.
He doesn’t last long either.
The guttural sound he makes when he comes becomes my new life mission. I need to hear it again—face-to-face next time.
“Go to bed, Mia,” he calls, lower now. Spent.
The sound of my name, post-orgasm, on his lips nearly knocks me off the step.
I flee like my ass is on fire, slam my bedroom door, lock it, and slide down with my back to it—cheeks burning, heart galloping.
Grinning like a lunatic.
Still breathless, I pick up my phone and type him a text with trembling fingers: ‘You’re hired.’
Wink emoji.
I’m holding the phone to my chest, trying to slow my breathing, when I hear the soft press of the door handle.
It doesn’t open. I remembered to lock it.
From the other side, his voice slips through—smug and velvet-smooth. “Good girl.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
preston
I replyto her text before I can second-guess it.
You’re off tomorrow. Sleep in. I’ll leave the keys for you.
No response.
Not right away, anyway. Maybe she's asleep already. But I imagine her lying in bed, catching her breath. Still panting, if I did my job right.
And, fuck, I hope I did.
I sit with the afterglow of it longer than I should—the image of her spread out and gasping, while my hands stayed firmly above her waist. My body still aches from holding back. My head swims with the sound of her voice, the way she fell apart with her legs shaking and my name on her tongue.
I shouldn’t be this hard over a memory. Especially not ten minutes after jerking off.
And yet, here we are.
I head to my room, ready for a lonesome round two.
* * *
It’s early morning, and Lily and I eat in easy silence, broken only by the flip of pages. This kind of quiet only happens when she’s truly focused—and it never lasts long.
She chews her peanut butter toast thoughtfully, eyes locked on the storybook she brought home from school. But when the silence stretches a few pages too long, I know something’s off. If I had to bet, she’s sulking about Mia being away this morning.
Lily doesn’t say it, and I don’t press. Some feelings are easier to chew through with toast.
Still, I nudge the open bag of chocolate-covered raisins a little closer to her side of the table. Not subtle, but effective.
