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Playful Pierre

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#2 His real-life sex toy

The half-naked girl tumbles over, lands on her ass, screaming in fear at the top of her lungs. I move over to help her up, but she scoots backwards, away from me. I can hear Maxim laughing softly, so I reach back to smack him without even looking over my shoulder. He can be such an asshole. She’s obviously scared out of her mind. I hold up my hands and move away from her, slowly going over to the couch to grab a blanket. I throw it at her, and she wraps it around herself, taking out her wireless earbuds and tossing them onto the table as she gets up and sinks down onto a chair. I guess that explains why she didn’t hear us – earbuds. Of course.

“Why the fuck are you in my house?” Her voice is hoarse from all the screaming.

“Why are you in lingerie?” Maxim counters. “And it’s not exactly your house.”

“Hi,” I say, trying to fight a smile. This whole thing is very amusing, after all. “I’m Pierre Davis. And you are…?”

“Oh!” She lets out a shuddering breath. “Pierre. Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Khiêm told me you’d be arriving today, but when you never showed up I figured you’d be here tomorrow, not in the middle of the night. And I thought you would knock or something.”

“We didn’t know you were in here, and I called out when I saw the light was on.” I motion to my ears. “Not my fault you were blasting music.”

She grimaces. “Right. Of course. I’m Christina.”

“Okay, and why exactly are you in my siblings’ guest house, standing around in your lingerie?”

She laughs, her earlier fear forgotten. “I swear I don’t normally welcome guests like this. I’m Khiêm’s friend. I write romance novels, just like him, only I’ve been at it for a lot longer. We met online, and I’ve been helping him grow his readership. When I lost my apartment, my boyfriend dumped me, and I got fired from my side gig, Khiêm was kind enough to let me stay here. I’ve been here for a few weeks. I thought Creed would tell you before you got here.”

“He should have, but he did not.” I’m glad he didn’t. It allowed me to see this sexy little thing here in nothing but red lacy lingerie. I’m definitely not complaining. “Nice to meet you, Christina.”

She gets up, the blanket still wrapped tightly around her. She holds out her hand to me, the other clutching the blanket so it won’t slip. “Nice to meet you too, Pierre. And you are…?”

“Maxim,” my friend says in his best Russian accent. “You very pretty.”

Christina drops her hand, deciding not to shake his. She even takes a step back before looking over at me with raised eyebrows. “Did he suffer brain damage or something? He didn’t have an accent five seconds ago.”

I can’t help but laugh. “No, he just likes to pretend he’s Russian.”

“I am Russian!” He crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. “Just because I’m adopted and was raised all-American doesn’t mean I can’t respect my roots.”

“Pretending to have an accent is not respectful,” Christina snaps at him. “You don’t hear me pretending I can’t speak proper English just because my ancestors are from Kenya.”

I like this girl. “So, I take it we’re roommates?”

“Apparently.” She looks over at Maxim. “No one told me there would be two of you.”

“Just here for a week,” he assures her, no longer playing the role of utter asshole. “Then I’m back to work, and I’ll leave you to take care of my sad, heart-broken friend.”

“Right, your girlfriend broke up with you.” Apparently, my siblings told Christina a lot more about me than the other way around. “Sorry about that. I heard you lost your job too, and your apartment.”

“Much like you, I guess.” She said something along those lines before, right? Apartment, boyfriend, job… “We’re in the same boat.”

“Always nice not to be a total loser on my own,” she jokes. “Now if you’ll excuse me… I think I should put on some clothes before we get to know each other more.”

“Too bad,” I can’t help but tease. “You look good in red.”

I swear to God she flushes, since her cheeks turn a little darker, but she rolls her eyes and pretends she’s not affected.

“I could strip down to my underwear if you want to level the playing field?” I can’t help flirting a little.

“Your brothers warned me you were cheeky,” she says, laughing. “Guess they were right. I think I’ll opt for putting on more clothes, but thank you for the offer.” With that, she leaves the room and goes upstairs, while I walk into the kitchen to grab a beer.

Once he got her trembling with need, he knew there was no way she was going to shoot him down again,” Maxim says from the living room in a deep, sensual voice. “It was clear she’d been craving his touch for so long that she couldn’t resist any longer. This was a bad idea on so many levels, but neither of them cared. He pushed up her skirt and his fingers skimmed over her panties, already soaked through and through. She made the most delicious sound that went straight down to his throbbing cock, making him impossibly hard. This was happening, that much was clear. Nothing was going to stop him from fucking this girl up against the wall, not even the fact that she was his brother’s ex-fiancée.”

“Maybe Christina was right about the brain damage. What are you going on about?” I walk back in, sipping my beer, finding him sitting at the table, looking at Christina’s open laptop. “Dude, are you reading her story?”

He grins, scrolling up a bit. “It was right here, open on this very hot scene. I couldn’t help myself. Do you think she always writes in lingerie? Holy fucking shit, I just opened another tab, and this scene is even wilder. This guy that has two girls stacked on top of each other, and he’s fucking both their pussies, taking turns on which one to penetrate.”

“What the hell?” I move over to read over his shoulder. He’s not wrong. This shit is disturbing. And hot. Really fucking hot.

“For years, she had been denying herself her deepest desires,” Maxim reads out loud again, for some reason now slipping into a British accent. “Today, something changed in her. Finally, she allowed him to use her body the way she’d always dreamed of when she lay in bed, getting herself off. Maybe it wasn’t very feminist of her, but there was nothing that got her hotter than to be used as his personal play thing. His real-life sex toy. The fact that he was fucking another woman at the same time, a woman whose breasts were pressed up against her back, whose juices were flowing onto her ass… It made everything even hotter.”

My eyes skim the rest of the page, lingering on phrases like dripping wet pussy, rock-hard cock, and so deep her eyes rolled back in her head.

“She writes porn,” I realize. “Romance novels, my ass.”

“Actually, it’s romantic erotica,” Christina’s voice says behind us. “It’s got a storyline, in case you’re interested. But yes, there is also a lot of smut. Besides… I don’t remember giving either of you permission to go through my personal laptop.”

“Sorry.” I shut it before Maxim can open yet another story. “It was open.”

“Is any of it based on a true story?” Maxim asks suggestively. “Or could I perhaps interest you in acting out some scenes to see if they’re as realistic as they sound?”

Christina huffs. “No, thank you.” She sits down on the couch. “I’d like a beer too, by the way.”

I go to get her one, and bring one for Maxim as well. We sit down on the other end of the large corner sofa, and I kick off my shoes so I can put my feet up on the table. It’s good to finally relax after this shitfest of a day.

“Do you always write naked?” Maxim asks curiously. “Because in that case, I’d like you to take me on as your intern this week.”

She rolls her eyes. “Nice try. And no, just sometimes. Not naked though, just in lingerie. When I don’t have any inspiration sometimes it helps me to get back in a sexy mood.”

It sure got me in a sexy mood, but I’m not going to say that out loud. I promised to be on my best behavior, after all. I’m pretty sure Christina is just as off-limits as Joy. Besides, sleeping with my roommate? Probably not the best idea ever. Although I definitely wouldn’t kick her out of my bed if she chose to join me in the middle of the night. Let’s leave it up to her. I won’t make a move, but if she does… To hell with what my siblings want. She’s hot.

“So, why did your girlfriend break up with you?” Christina asks like we didn’t only just meet.

“He cheated on her,” Maxim says before I can reply.

“I did not.” I smack him on the back of his head and take away his beer. “You don’t deserve this. She only thought I cheated on her.”

“And why would she think that?” Christina asks, leaning forward a bit. Her shirt slips off her shoulder a little, revealing a red bra strap. Damn, now I’m getting turned on again, remembering what she looked like when we came in.

“My ex texted me something a little… racy.” That’s putting it mildly. Valentina broke up with her boyfriend, so she got drunk and then sent me a bunch of naked pictures. “Not my fault.”

“Did you tell her to fuck off?” Christina asks, giving me a knowing look. “So it was at least a little your fault, right?”

“Why did your boyfriend break up with you?” I’m starting to get annoyed with this girl.

“Oh, that was totally one hundred percent my fault.” She laughs at herself and sips her beer. “I didn’t pay enough attention to him, forgot dates we were supposed to go on a couple of times, totally spaced on the fact that it was his birthday, and then refused to move in with him when he asked me.”

“Damn.” Maxim lets out a low whistle and steals his beer back from me. “You might be an ever worse person to date than Pierre. And that’s saying something.”

“Thanks, man.” I push him so hard he almost falls off the couch. “Remind me again why I agreed for you to tag along?”

“You love me,” he says in a singsong voice. “You can’t live without me.”

Christina is grinning at our antics, her long shapely legs drawn underneath her gorgeous body. Even relaxing in a T-shirt and jeans she still looks amazing. “How did you lose your apartment?” she goes on to ask me.

“It was my girlfriend’s. That’s also how I lost my job, I was working for her father’s company.”

“Ah, that sucks.” She sighs. “I couldn’t pay my rent anymore, and I showed up late at work too many times. Like I said, I’m so lucky Khiêm allowed me to stay here. Your family is really nice.”

“Yeah, they are,” I agree. I love my family, I really do. They just get on my nerves a lot, because they think they know better. Even Liyah, who is younger than me. Just because she’s got a kid and a boyfriend, she thinks she’s got it made and she can tell me how I’m fucking up my life. Plus, my siblings never truly tried to get to know my girlfriends. They always thought everyone I dated was boring or rude, and figured we’d break up eventually.

I guess they were right about that last part. I hate it when they’re right.

“I need to finish a chapter tonight so I can send it to my editor tomorrow.” Christina gets up, finishing off her beer. “Sorry to be rude.”

“No worries, we’re off to bed anyway.” When Maxim starts to protest, I throw him a look. We already disturbed this girl enough. It’s time for us to give her a moment to herself. “Good night, Christina.”

“Bye,” she mutters, already engulfed in whatever she’s writing on her laptop.

“My offer to act out scenes still stands,” Maxim jokes, but she doesn’t even seem to hear him, even though her earbuds are still on the table. “Tough crowd,” he mutters before following me upstairs.

The guesthouse is big enough for both of us to have our own rooms, leaving one for Christina. I’m not sure which one is hers, so I just push open the first door, only to find out that this one is definitely already taken. There are clothes everywhere, along with books, papers, half-full tea cups…

“She’s a pig,” Maxim says, scrunching up his face in disgust.

He’s not wrong. I carefully close the door again and make my way to the largest of the two bedrooms left. Maxim is only staying for a week anyway, so he can make do with the smaller one. Besides, small for Davis standards is still pretty damn big. Max lives in a studio apartment. This guest house must feel like a castle to him.

I take a quick shower, feeling fatigue overtake me as I’m drying off. Jesus, I guess this day was tougher on me than I initially thought. The bed feels incredibly soft and cozy, and I make a mental note to thank whoever made it for me before I even got to the house. Probably Creed or Gracie, if I had to guess.

It takes me a while, since memories of Natalie are swirling through my mind, and something akin to guilt starts gnawing at me. I push it down like I always do and eventually manage to drift off. I need my beauty sleep, after all. Tomorrow starts the hunt for a rebound. And for a job. In that order.

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