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along her frame. Finally, her fingers exit her body. I can see her cum dripping from her, stuck to her fingers in pleasure.

She lifts them to her nipples, dragging her orgasm over the stiff peaks on a heady moan.

I watch on as she sits up, lifting her phone to bring her face into view.

Her cheeks are flushed, eyes hooded, and even though I wasn’t there, I know I gave her that.

Fingertips to her lips, she leaves her climax along her skin before slipping them between her lips and sucking them clean.

“Tastes like I want you.”

Then the video cuts out.

A black screen.

Tastes like I want you. 

Fuuuuuuccccck.

Canceling out of her message—which I will be watching again momentarily—I do a quick internet search before the dial tone hits my ear.

“I need a return flight to the Whitsundays, Australia. Flight out tonight if you can manage it. A day on the ground and then back the next day.”

21

HENLEY

“Hen, there’s a solid ten asking for you at the end of the bar.”

I inhale deeply through my nostrils. “Tell him I’m asexual and can’t speak English.”

Jada chuckles, brushing my shoulders as she wanders past me.

This happens at least fifteen times a night. Drunk assholes thinking they’re God’s gift to women attempting to flirt. Attempting being the operative word. Most of the time, they’re downright offensive.

No, I don’t want you to rock my world. 

Oh, you want to give me an orgasm. . .

Isn’t that the whole point of fucking? You don’t get a gold fucking star, dickcheese. If your opening line is how selfless you are in bed, then news flash, you ain’t. Here’s the truth—you’re thinking I’ll drop my pants right then and there for you to prove what a giver you are, and you’ll jab inside me for three half-assed pumps before you blow your load and swear that this has never happened before.

Please.

Grabbing empties from the bar, I tip the dregs of beer out, then toss the bottles into the trash can at my feet.

“I tried that.” Jada hands over change to one of three women who take five attempts to drink the shot they ordered, needing the perfect pic for their socials, rather than enjoying the moment. “He said when you attempt to reject him, tell her he’ll carve his name into the bar.”

The bottle I’m holding drops to the floor. I pay it no regard, my body turning fast enough to make me wobble.

Brooks waves, a sheepish smile creeping onto the side of his mouth.

“Told you,” Jada whispers. “Solid. Ten.”

“Can you close up for me?” I ask absently, unable to move.

“What?” she stutters. “He’s hot, but not bail on your mates level hot.”

“He’s not a ten,” I tell her.

“What?”

I turn to her. “A solid ten, you said?” She nods. “He’s a forever. Not a ten.”

She blinks, realization dawning on her.

“Then go, girl. I got this. Grab that forever.”

I take a step toward him, nerves holding me captive, sweat tickling at my spine and drying out my throat.

Brooks stands as I move out from behind the bar, and I step into his body.

He moves to kiss me, but lifting a hand, I place my fingers against his lips.

“Wait. I just need a minute. Sixty seconds to look at you.”

He gives me that, a single minute to stare at his beautiful face.

“You’re here.”

“I’m here.” He speaks against my fingers.

He’s tired. Eyes creased in both sleep and lack thereof. His dark hair is a tousled mess, and he lifts a hand subconsciously to bring order to the disheveled locks. It only works to cause more mayhem.

Dark-wash jeans hang low on his hips, the band of his Calvins on show when he stretches or moves.

“Squirrel, Ima need that kiss you promised me right about now. While I love the way you’re looking at me, I didn’t fly all this way just for you to stare.”

I exhale, a small moan escaping my lips at the promise in his words.

When I throw my arms around his neck, he lifts me effortlessly, hands fitted comfortably to my ass as our lips—after too long apart—reconnect in a carnal touch of longing.

I kiss him the way I promised I would. Frantic. My hands grab at his hair, needing to pull him as close as possible. My tongue pushes between his lips, a needy moan spilling into his mouth when I finally taste him. He lets his tongue glide against mine just as fervently as mine does his. We’re possessed and caught in an infatuation that will knowingly leave us burned, but we’re too blinded by lust to care.

He tastes like my happiest memories and my greatest heartache. He’s joy and pain and love and longing, and I want more.

I hug him tighter, and I swallow the rough growl he lets go of just as a cold spray of water hits the side of my face, and I pull away from Brooks in silent protest.

Standing at the end of the bar holding a soda gun aimed at my face, Jada smiles innocently. “I mean this in a super supportive way, but like, maybe get a room?” she suggests. “You’re gaining a nice little audience here, and look, maybe voyeurism is your style, no judgment here, but I don’t need cock and pussy making appearances in my bar.”

Brooks ducks his head to hide his smile. I clear my throat, untangling my legs from his waist and sliding down his frame.

“Apologies.”

“None needed.” Jada smirks. “Forever doesn’t come around too often.”

Brooks raises a brow quizzically, but I wave at Jada, grabbing his hand to pull him out of the bar.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Tears wet my eyes, and I’m so overwhelmed, I can’t quite find the words to tell him what it means to me.

“I can’t believe I’m here.”

It’s warm out, the nighttime humidity clinging to my skin.

“I want to catch up, Henley. I do, but right now, I need inside you more. I jerked off to your video and jumped on the next flight out of the Philippines to taste what you promised me.”

My thighs clench. “That I want

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