CHAPTER 9
PIA
“You did good, English rose,” I tell her when the silence gets too much.
She blushes, and unlike previous occasions, she lets me have a front-row seat. “I enjoyed that. A lot.”
“I could tell.”
“Did … did you?”
“What do you think?” I scowl at her.
“I think you did?” she replies, but it sounds like a question.
I untangle our legs and climb on top of her, straddling her warm thighs. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Don’t start doubting yourself now. Not when you’ve come so far tonight.”
I hope I don’t have to explain myself, explain what I mean by saying that, and it’s a relief when she doesn’t say anything and only smiles up at me. I tuck her hair behind her ears so I can have a better view of that little English rose grin.
“What did you say?” she eventually asks me.
“What? When?”
“In Swedish, when you … came.”
“Oh, that.” I climb off her because while I want all of her blushes, that doesn’t mean I want her to have mine. “Nothing much. Just … words.”
“Okay,” she says from behind me as I head to the bathroom. I grab the two russet-coloured towelling robes off the back of the door. Before I return to Cassie, I look at myself in the mirror. It’s not an unfamiliar sight with my dishevelled hair, flushed cheeks and tightnipples. But there’s something else there I haven’t seen before. My eyes, they sparkle. My lips, they’re curved up, not down. My shoulders are relaxed. In fact, my whole body feels looser in a way that is completely unfamiliar. It feels like I’ve shed the body armour I’ve been wearing my whole life.
A good orgasm, I tell myself as I put on one of the robes.Twogood orgasms. That’s all that it is.
And yet, when I turn and head back to Cassie, I know my smile is only widening.
“Here.” I hand her the other robe, and she puts it on without making eye contact.
“I’m going to order that room service now,” I tell her, reaching for the menu. “What do you want?”
“Me? Oh, nothing.”
I turn to her and stare. Hard. “What do you want, Cassie?”
She blinks and swallows. I will not have her retreating back into that shell of hers. “What are you getting?”
I glance back at the menu I have in my hands. “A cheeseburger, fries, and a strawberry milkshake. Oh, and the chocolate brownie for dessert.”
“Wow. That’s a lot of food.”
“I haven’t eaten since … yesterday lunchtime,” I calculate.
“How do you … How do youfunction?”
“Cigarettes and coffee,” I tell her as I come back to the bed and sit next to her. “Like the legend Otis Redding sang.”
“Coffee?” She arches an eyebrow questioningly.