Freddie woke with an itchy nose and a dry mouth. He assumed he had a hangover as well, but that would have to wait for confirmation until he was ready to open his eyes. He wondered if he might talk Lix into spoon feeding him some of her hideous instant coffee or if a bottle might still be near to hand.
Then he wondered what was taking that bloody lorry so long to get past the window so that the bed would stop shaking. Wait a minute, something like a clear voice said in his brain. Lix’s office was too far up…and he liked to believe he’d know if they’d gone anywhere after tumbling onto the bed like a couple of mischievous children. Well, the sort of children who smoked and drank and did other things that hopefully most children weren’t getting up to just yet.
So if he was still in Lix’s bed, and Lix was still in it with him, then that slight rocking he felt in mattress had to be…
He gritted his teeth and forced his eyes open and yes that’s exactly what it was. At least he’d have no trouble keeping his eyes open now, he thought. The sight of Lix, back arched, eyes closed, tongue moving over her lips, her legs open and bent at the knee and her right hand moving, all of that certainly had his keenest attention. Once it permeated his fogged consciousness what was going on, he instantly felt a wave of discomfort lodged a male ego he’d barely known he had. Freddie had been under the impression that he’d acquitted himself admirably the night before; not that he remembered much of the action. He knew that he’d been satisfied and he could have sworn that Lix had. No way to know, really, he supposed. Except there was and the evidence was there in front of his face. Her expressions; the sounds she was making. The hunger and need and yet the control, the sense that she was perfectly capable of handling the situation. That was Lix all over, wasn’t it?
Did Bel ever do this with her bankers? Freddie doubted it. Maybe the bankers were better equipped for the job than he was, or maybe Bel was just polite enough not to rub it in their faces, as roughly as Lix appeared to be rubbing herself. He averted his imagination before he could turn to Bel and Hector. At least the bankers were interchangeable. Hector was something special, at least to Bel. Probably new all sorts of posh ways to get a girl off or at least make her feel it was her fault if she didn’t.
Lix apparently had no such inhibitions. None whatsoever that he could see. Her moans were growing deeper and huskier and her left hand had moved toward her breasts.
“Can I help,” he asked, trying to remain a gentleman, even in the face of his failure as a man.
She nodded quickly.
“Squeeze hard and stay out of my way.”
He obliged, doing what he would never had dreamt of doing without such a graphic invitation.
Seeing Lix attend to herself that way, hearing, smelling her. It all seemed to have given his prick a second wind. He had a free hand and decided to make use of it. He didn’t think Lix would mind, or even notice for that matter.
He picked up her rhythm, matching his shallow breaths to her deep, guttural ones. He kept one hand on her breast, while the other worked his cock, losing himself in the sheer sensuality of what he’d seen Lix doing. Eventually he required two hands and the person next to him in bed was lost in the haze of his own selfish need for release. Freddie could hear Lix him on, a bit like a football supporter he thought, complete with crude language. Naturally, it was the filth that did the trick.
“Oh god,” he exclaimed, gasping in delight as he came, no doubt making a horrible mess, but not honestly giving a damn. He hadn’t laughed so freely since before Ruth’s engagement party. Freddie felt himself falling back into a welcoming warm doze until he sensed that Lix had gotten out of bed. “Kicking me into the street, are you?” he muttered disagreeably .“What am I, a common trollop?”
Suddenly he smelled coffee in the vicinity of his nose, and he knew the night’s festivities were most definitely over, never to be spoken of again.
“Nothing common about you, Mr. Lyons,” Lix replied, giving his hair a ruffle and handing him a cup of something that would pass for coffee. “Now get your arse out of bed and go do your job.”