Under the sheets, his cock strained, tentpoling the fabric over his pelvis. He groaned, sliding his hands over the ripples of his muscular chest to flatten the thick erection against his stomach, rubbing up and down with the palm of his hand. Pre-cum lubricated his skin, and his fingers circled the throbbing head of his cock, pumping harder as his hips pushed upward and the back of his head smashed into his pillow.
He thought of Libitz…of her angles and softness…of the sounds she made when he kissed her…of the way her nipples hardened between his fingers. He saw her eyes flash with fire, saw her tongue lick her lips, and—
“Ahhhhh,” he cried out, coming in hot spurts on his chest as he pictured her head thrown back in ecstasy, her small body convulsing around his cock as he came inside of her.
“Fuck,” he groaned, whipping the wet sheet off his bed and throwing an arm over his eyes.
He had it So. Fucking. Bad. for this woman. He could barely remember what life looked like before wanting her.
When his phone buzzed beside him, he jumped like Pavlov’s dog, grabbing it with a pathetic hope that it was her, calling to talk to him.
“Hello?”
“J.C.?” purred a cultured voice he knew too well.
His heart plummeted. “Felicity.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a happy voice.”
He didn’t know what to say. Covered with cum from an imaginary fuckfest with Libitz, he definitely didn’t feel like talking to Felicity.
“Just busy. What’s up?”
“Are we still on for today? Noon at the Morris House?”
Noon? Fuck. Had he made plans with her?
“I don’t—”
“It wasn’t in stone,” she said quickly, “but you mentioned it the last time we got together.”
No doubt he had, and actually, the timing was fine. étienne and Kate’s BBQ wasn’t until five o’clock. Except…
Except he had zero—no, less than zero—interest in fucking Felicity. Frankly, much to his surprise, he had zero interest in fucking anyone who wasn’t Libitz.
“Sorry, Felicity,” he said. “I can’t make it.”
“Big plans?” she asked.
“Housewarming at Kate and Ten’s new place.”
“étienne bought a house? I haven’t seen him in ages! What fun!”
He groaned inwardly.
This wasn’t something Felicity normally tried with him; they fucked and they occasionally socialized when one of them needed a date to an event, but he’d been careful to curb her expectations. He wasn’t her boyfriend or anything resembling it; he certainly wasn’t inviting her to his brother’s house.
“I’ll send your regards.”
“I’d love to give them myself,” she pushed. She followed this up with a nervous chuckle. “I know we’ve been keeping things casual, but…well, I wanted to tell you in person, but my divorce was finalized on Friday, and I thought…if you were interested…”
J.C. Rousseau didn’t believe in leading a woman on. Never had. He believed in ripping off the Band-Aid when called for.
“I’m not,” he said simply. “I’m not interested.”
“Oh,” she gasped.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Felicity, but we’re both adults. We knew what this was.”
“I just thought that maybe…”
“No,” he said firmly.
She was quiet for a moment before responding. “I misread the situation. I thought—well, I thought you might want—”
“No. I’m sorry. I think we both need to move on now,” he said evenly. “I wish you all the best, Felicity.”
Expecting her to say something similarly civil, he waited a moment to hear her say, “It won’t last.”
“What?”
She scoffed. “You think this is my first rodeo, J.C.? No, no, no, darling. Whoever she is? It won’t last.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, though his heart rate quickened uncomfortably.
“Yes, you do. You’ve found someone else.” She paused. “How do I know? I just do. I recognize it in your voice. But it has no legs, darling. It can’t because the only appendage you have dangling below the waist is your cock.” She chuckled softly. “Can’t move forward without legs.”
“You’re speaking in riddles, Felicity, and it’s—”
“I’ll put it plainly, then: you’re not the kind who commits, J.C. You’re a whore, and you like it that way.”
“I guess it takes one to know one,” he said, civil good-byes forgotten.
“Fair enough,” she said, “which is why it won’t surprise you when I say that my arms will be wide open to welcome you back to my bed once this little flirtation bores you. Your cock is…epic. I enjoy you. So give me a call when you’re ready.”
He took a deep breath and sighed, wondering how Felicity-fucking-Atwell had somehow managed to get into his head. It made him angry, made his heart throb in protest at her words, made him hate that she saw through him so easily, made him doubt that he’d ever find himself in the sort of safe, committed relationship his brother and sisters had managed to find.
He tightened his jaw, focusing on his anger, his voice sharp and cold. “Sorry to disappoint you, chérie, but that day isn’t coming.”
She chuckled again, the sound brittle. “Well, then, best of luck, darling. You’ll need it.”
“Au revoir, Felicity,” he said.