Her one-night-stand.

Part 4.

Staying out of town for a week, not being able to tell her he was going away, not being able to see her or talk to her, was sweet torture. He couldn't deny it, she both intrigued him and turned him on, big time. And because he had some idea that she needed time to heal, he kept himself on the narrow path. But it was a bit of a struggle, like in the car. It was an absolute miracle he held back. For now, he should wait.

Finally, back in town, he looked in his fridge, happy to see he needed to go grocery shopping.

He picked up some buns, butter, ham, cheese, and orange juice. Looking inside the big fridge, he flinched when somebody tugged his arm. When he turned around, she was standing there, worry and anger in her eyes. "Where have you been?" her voice stern, "you've been gone for a week, I've been looking for you!". He took a step closer to her, but she backed away. "Sweetie..." he lifted his hand to caress her shoulder, but she stepped back again. "You've never been gone for this long! Not a word, and I couldn't talk to you!" she was still angry, but something else lingered in her voice, worry maybe? "Please, listen..." he reached out for her again, "I've been out of town, a sudden business meeting, and I didn't have time to look for you before I had to go," he moved closer, "Sweetie..." She didn't move this time, and he put his palm on her cheek. "Forgive me please..." his voice just a whisper. She let her breath out and let her body fall inn to his arms, her nose in the crock of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, stroking up and down on her back, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair while landing small kisses on her head. "Don't do that again..." she sniffled against his neck. Pulling her even closer he whispered in her ear "Lets exchange phone numbers, hm?"

He sat up in bed, startled by the high-pitched ringing sound from his phone. It was past midnight, and nobody used to call him this late, but "Sofie" flashed on his screen. He picked up, "Hi sweetie..." Loud voices, music and laughter attacked his eardrums. "Feeeliiix..." her voice slurry and a bit sad? "Everything good there sweetie?", his voice laced with concern. "Just miss your voice... and... HE is here... kissing her", her sad voice trailed off. With a brain not fully waken yet, he took a second to make sense of what she was saying "Your ex I presume..." finally understanding her misery. "Yeah..." her answer was more a whisper. "Where are you Sofie, tell me I'll come meet you", voice soft and warm. "Skylight bar..." "Wait for me, I'll be there soon".

In his jeans and a leather jacket, hair a bit messy, looking absolutely gorgeous, he reached the bar. He found her sitting on a barstool looking blindly at the bottles in the shelves. She flinched when he put his hand on her shoulder, but relaxed when she saw who it was. Turning around, she looked up at him, tears glistening in the crock of her eye. He pulled her in his arms, caressing her hair pressing small kisses on the top of her head. "Hi sweetie, want to go home?" he held her tight. "Mhm" she nodded in his chest. "Let's go then" he smiled down at her. She cupped his face and kissed him. The kiss heated and passionate. Suddenly he felt he had all the time in the world, kissing this girl made him content. But their heated kiss was interrupted.

"Sofie! What the hell!" a male voice clearly angered by the sight. Turning around slowly, he looked down on the male standing beside them. His arm loosely wrapped around a girl in her late teens. "Oh, James..." Sofie still secure in his arms turned to the angry male behind her. "Who's he?" the male named James pointed at her lover. A grin blossomed in her face, "Ah... meet Felix, my sugar baby. I'm paying for his luxury car and his habit of drinking expensive wine" her grin getting even bigger, "Take care of your own baby James, be careful, maybe her dad will be angry when she's out past twelve".

The pain in her head made her wake up. Opening her eyes wasn't an option, so she turned around and inhaled the calming scent of male perfume from the soft pillow, the known smell made her relax. Someone caressed her hair and giggled. "Why are you always hungover when you're waking up in my bed?" his voice low and warm. "Because you're making it a habit to save me when I'm drunk..." she mumbled embarrassed in the pillow. Loud laughter filled the room, and his hand kept stroking her hair, "I like saving your drunk ass" he snickered. She shuffled around a bit, before she opened her eyes and looked at him. Messy, fluffy hair hanging over his forehead, big dark doe eyes staring into hers. "Painkillers and water on the nightstand... coffee with milk for the queen, and then a shower I think", he gave her a quick peck on her lips and left for the kitchen.

Pushed up against the shower wall, legs spread she wimpered in pleasure. He had taken the shower head of the hose, and he used the steady stream of water to stimulate her clit. Her knees went weak, and his other arm held her steady by her waist. His hips were glued to her buttocks. The length of him perfectly lined between her two cheeks. The foam from the soap made the contact pleasantly slippery, and he pressed himself firmer to her body. Slowly gliding himself up and down between her firm domes, small bites on her neck and still this warm stream of water doing wonders in her folds, she reached her high. A load breathy moan that went on forever, her knees gave in, and she collapsed in his arms. She could still feel his dick between her butt cheeks. He held her tight not moving at all, just caressing her wet body supporting her trough her high. Finally, she turned around, slowly letting her hands glide over his firm abs, going closer and closer to his dick. So close and she found her wrists being captured by his hands, pulled away and placed around his neck, "not yet sweetie, you're not there yet..."

A week passed. Nothing. Not a text, he didn't shop groceries. She found herself missing him, badly. Her ex called her, crying on the phone, telling her how much he regretted cheating, how much he missed her and wanted her back. And she listened, because a couple of weeks ago, this was what she wanted, him to beg for her forgiveness, admitting he had made a mistake, telling her that he loved her. But now, his words were empty and shallow. She didn't believe him. Still listening to his crying voice, she suddenly knew she had moved on. Rudely she cut him off, stopping the endless whining voice begging her to forget that he had fucked a 19-year-old in their bed. "I'm sorry James, I don't believe you, don't trust you, and don't love you anymore, have a nice day cupcake!" And she hung up on him. A happy smile on her lips, and she realised that she had the chance to get the man she really wanted.

A ping from his phone made him turn around in his bed and pick it up from his nightstand. "Sofie". He smiled and opened the text. "I crave for my sugar baby. Let's meet at "Le Bistro" at eight". He giggled and answered, "Is it a date?" "It's a date. I think I want my sugar baby to go steady now..." His breath hitched, maybe their time finally was there.

The end.