The Accent

Ch 21 - The Type of Sounds Only Pornstars Make

WARNING - guys it gets kind of raunchy, just so you know. 

Chapter 21 - The Type of Sounds Only Pornstars Make

What was I thinking? 

Was the question that had been running through my mind all day, I mean, really, WHAT WAS I THINKING?

Had my sanity taken a complete leave of absence? Maybe it had gone on holiday, along with my self-respect and dignity.

Yup I could see it now, there they were on a beach somewhere, sipping pina coladas, allowing my out of control hormones to run the show. Thus making some very ridiculous and questionable choices.  

Okay, I replied with, I mean, who does that? 

But in my defence who asks that kind of damn question in the first place! 

Since I'd sent the text four hours ago and had no reply back, I had thoroughly worked myself up into a state. Shame, embarrassment and panic were all warring with each other, I'd come to the conclusion that Rhys must have been joking and didn't know how to admit it to me without making him and myself look stupid. So he'd saved us both the trouble and just ignored me.

I'd only half convinced myself of that theory, the alternative was way more embarrassing. 

The alternative theory was that Rhys wasn't joking and that I had actually agreed to have regular sex with a total whore bag. That, right there is stupidity at its best. 

Feeling the colour rise to my cheeks once again from reliving this afternoons texts, I walked quicker into the cooling breeze, I was almost home from being at the garage where I'd spent two hours trying and failing to not look up at Rhys' apartment windows.

Skipping up the porch steps I could feel the tension begin to leak out of me, once inside I could have a decent cup of tea that was hot and served with milk, go to bed and try to forget the foolish proposal that had me all tied up in knots.

"Honey, I'm home." I sang theatrically as I walked through the door. Loud excited yapping greeted me and within seconds a ball of brown fur was jumping up at my legs, its a good job Zeke was still only a puppy if he'd been fully grown I'd have been knocked flat onto my back.

"Hey boy, did you miss me?" I cooed to the barely barking puppy while I walked towards the sofa, dumping my bags on the end table as I went. 

"Hey, did you know Jezza had made it over the pond?" Ruby called from the sofa, I plonked down onto the free two-seater and shot a glance at a lounging Ruby, she was still in her pyjama's with her blonde hair tied up into a scruffy top knot, watching Jeremy Kyle with wonderment. 

"Yeah I did, have you been here all day?" 

"What if I have?" She replied defensively. 

"Then I'd say you're a lazy cow and better get that kettle on before I kick you to the curb." I raised my eyebrows and looked at her pointedly, we stared at each other for a few seconds before she huffed in indignation and lifted her body as if it was the heaviest thing in the world. 

Hearing her shuffle around our kitchen muttering to herself as she filled the kettle was like music to my ears, "Thank you." I sang, when I heard the kettle starting to boil.

"Here," A steaming hot cup of tea was shoved under my nose, I grabbed it before it had the chance to spill over and scald me. A huffy Ruby went and dived back onto the larger settee, snuggled up with a blanket and began watching Jeremy Kyle USA again. 

I was checking my phone for the millionth time, -because you know in the space of ten minutes maybe I had managed to knock it on to silent and Rhys had left a hundred messages- when Ruby's voice interrupted my disappointment. I had zero notifications.