Page 9

Eight. My chastity belt

Vera

“ W hat the fuck, Elias. Are you stalking me?”

He scoffs and leans against the wall where I’ve shoved him, one hand still pressed against his chest. He’s fucking beautiful, a thing I happily forgot this past week. Infuriatingly beautiful, actually. His beard is replaced by light scruff and frames the tantalising smile perfect along with those brown eyes twinkling in amusement at my frustration. I drop my hand and start to move away, but he grabs my hips to keep me in place.

“Really good to see you too, Vera.”

Fine, I lied . There’s no part of me that forgot Elias. His rough hands, the way his cock filled me or the filthy things he whispered in my ear as he fucked me—it’s still fresh in my mind. My vibrators have been recharged more than usual this week thanks to this man. The orgasms have also kept me in a good mood at work, so I should really be thanking him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?”

“My team’s win tonight.”

Confused, I shake my head. The Chennai Renegades are celebrating tonight. It’s why I was invited. Is that what he means? His hands move under my silk cover up, his fingers hot against my body through the material of my dress. I swat him away and he laughs, taking them off me. I miss his touch instantly, but I let it go.

“What are you doing here?” he asks and my traitorous body moves closer of her own accord.

Stop it, behave yourself.

“Partying.”

He smirks at my immature response, but now our bodies are inches away from each other. “I didn’t like watching you flirt with my teammate.”

“Sucks to be you,” I respond, as childish as before.

“I’d rather be sucking on you.”

A shiver runs up my spine and I bite my lip. His eyes drop to my mouth and instantly we’re pressed together. The kiss is almost bruising, hungry and angry, fingers grasping at hair and hips. I push myself so close to him that I can feel his dick throb against my stomach. I wind my arms around his neck and he licks into my mouth, making us both groan. Grabbing at his hair, I angle his head the way I like and kiss him back desperately. His hands are on my ass, squeezing my flesh before dragging a hand down to my thigh. Before I know it, one leg is hitched up against his side and he’s grinding into me, our tongues swiping and slipping against the other.

His hand starts to slip under my dress and I break the kiss, panting loudly. It takes everything in me to push away from him, cutting off all contact. Taking two steps back, I meet his dark ravenous stare, my pussy quivering in response. The kiss reminds me that I could have had him in my bed every night, but I made the conscious decision to ignore the note. I haven’t really asked myself why I kept his number.

Maybe Elias and I have unfinished business.

Or my pussy is really fucking greedy .

“Why didn’t you call?” he asks, voice soft and almost shy.

“Because it was meant to be one night.”

“You could have still called.”

“Why?”

He pushes off the wall and I cross my arms defensively. “Because I wanted another night.”

“I bet there are tons of women here tonight who would be happy to warm your bed and call you in the morning.”

“I don’t want any of those women.”

“Elias…” I sigh. We’re going round in circles. Yes, I do want to fuck him again. No, I can’t let that happen. Yes, I remember how incredible the beard burn was against the inside of my thighs. Do. Not. Fuck. Him.

“Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me that you’re not wet for me right now and I’ll leave.”

“I’m not wet for you right now.”

“But you still want me,” he says, voice dropped to a dangerously low octave that makes my body hum.

“Nope.”

He smirks, because he knows I’m soaked and I do want him. “Liar.”

I step back and lean against the wall, letting him get his fill of me. He takes his time, hot gaze starting at the low cut of my dress, down to where my nipples are punching their way through my bra and the flimsy material, to my stomach that’s been tucked away into an uncomfortable layer of spandex.

“If I put my hand up your dress, will I find you wet or dry?”

If I was thinking with my brain, I’d end this conversation and leave. But my libido has taken over and I have no control over her. My feet part and I hitch up my dress a little, inviting him closer. Our gazes are locked as he slides a hand up my thigh, pushing my clothes further out of the way. Then he freezes, eyebrows dipping into a frown.

“The fuck is this?”

“Consider it my chastity belt,” I tease, referring to my skin-coloured spandex.

I don’t always wear it, because it’s a bitch to get in and out of. But in dresses like this, the ones that cling to me like a second skin, I like to keep everything smooth. I’m not conscious of my body anymore, but the torture is sometimes worth it.

“No seriously, what is it?”

“Keeps all my soft bits tucked away in this dress.”

“I like your soft bits,” he whispers, dragging his hand up until he reaches my waistband. “I love your soft bits.”

And he means it. Because that night he was so reverent in the way he touched me, tracing the silver lines that define how much my body has grown. The way his lips followed the action, tongue flicking out to tease my rolls as he grabbed my soft thighs and squeezed them. I have never paid attention to the way my partners see my body because I don’t usually care. I’m proud of the body I created, I’m proud of my dips and curves and flab. I love how beautiful each part of me is.

When Elias is staring at me, it’s more than that.

I feel exquisite.

Caught up in my thoughts, I don’t realise that he’s trying and failing to take the shorts off. I push him away. “You’re not getting into my spandex, Elias.”

“Wanted to check if you were wet for me.”

He sounds so small, lips forming a pout. I straighten my clothes and take a step towards him. He doesn’t hide the way he looks down my dress or the hunger in his eyes.

“I’m soaked .”

“For me, right?” He grins, licking his lips.

I grab his dick through the front of his pants. “Just like this is for me.”

He moans, rocking into my hand. “It is for you. I heard your laugh before I saw you. Got so hard at the sound, thought I was losing my mind.”

“I do have that effect on people.”

He stares into my eyes and says, “Don’t fuck Florian.”

“You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t fuck.”

“ Please don’t fuck Florian.”

It’s the fucking please that does it. “Why not?”

“Because I might kill him if you do.”

“So dramatic,” I mutter and move around him, but he steps in my way. “What?”

“Remember what I said that night? I can’t share you. It’s hard enough watching you flirt with him, but knowing you’d take all that off for him kills me.”

“I’m allowed to fuck whoever I want, Elias. Like you are.”

“I only want to fuck you,” he says so earnestly I’m taken aback. “I’ve spent this past week in physiotherapy and the rest of the time fucking my hand thinking about you.”

“Physiotherapy?”

“I play for the Renegades.”

My eyes widen in shock, then confusion. “The night we met, I was hating on cricket and you didn’t say anything.”

“I liked that you didn’t know or care who I was. You liked me for…me.”

“I liked you for your dick, Elias.”

When he smiles, it’s dangerous. “You’re a terrible liar, peaches. My dick liked you too, but we both know that night was about so much more than sex.”

“Do we?” I tilt my head to the side as our bodies gravitate closer.

He hums and cups my jaw. “If you need a refresher, call me.”

“Didn’t save your number.”

“I’m sure Florian can give it to you once you tell him you’re not interested.”

Truth is, I did save his number. It took me a week of ignoring my bedside table before I pulled out the post-it and punched his number into my phone.

“I dunno, Florian seems like he could handle me and I might be in the mood for that.” His nostrils flare, which only makes me smile even more. “Don’t worry, Elias. I’m going home alone tonight.”

That doesn’t seem to comfort him, but when I step away, he lets me go. I stop at the door and glance back. His hands are shoved into his pockets, dick imprint clear against the zipper and I smirk.

“Might want to fuck your hand thinking of me again, superstar.”

He smirks and adjusts himself. The action makes me lick my lips, I pull the door open and blow him a kiss before stepping outside. The cool ocean air hits my warm skin and instantly sets my soul on fire. I was so close to saying ‘fuck it’ and letting Elias drag the shape wear off my body so he could bury himself inside me.

He’s not wrong; I do want him. It was easier to pretend like I didn’t when he wasn’t around. With him that close, having his taste on my tongue and trace of his body on me has made it almost impossible to feel otherwise.

Shaking it off, I return to the group still talking and flirting with Florian Sewell. I enjoy being flirted with, especially by handsome men. But like I told Elias, my plan was to always go back to my hotel room alone.

I don’t want to erase the memories of my last one night stand yet.

With a fresh drink in hand, I find an empty sofa and settle into it. I might have accused Elias of stalking me, but he could have said the same about me. However, the real reason I’m here is because we were invited to join the Chennai Renegades to discuss our new partnership. Even though I dislike what the sport has become now, I wasn’t going to turn down an offer like this.

Lucky Shot, my PR and marketing firm, won the pitch a few months ago and it’s been nothing but cricket at the office since. It’s also been impossible to meet with the owner and management to nail down all the things we need to do. I signed a contract and we put together multiple plans in place they’ve been working with slowly. I intend to do so much more.

Which is why I accepted the invite and brought my core team with me. I refused to attend the match, not wanting to sit through however many hours of a sport I dislike. While my team was at Wankhede Stadium? 1 cheering for the boys in yellow, I was in my hotel room going over their brief and requirements.

After being passed over for promotions and being told I have to work harder to earn more money, I finally quit working for privileged men and started my own company. I learned so much from those assholes and made sure to never make the same mistakes. My leadership team is made up of women and queer folks alike, the staff are promoted based on their appraisals and meeting their goals. We celebrate every single win and remind each person that their contributions are valuable.

My goal is to always help every employee grow, not curb their enthusiasm. It’s why we’ve been called one of the best places to work in South India.

“Ms. Thomas, thank you so much for joining us. I hope you enjoyed the match,” Mr. Jaishankar says as he settles into the seat across from me. I can tell from his speech that the Renegades owner has had too much to drink.

“Thank you for inviting us. My team certainly had the time of their lives.”

“That’s right, I hear you’re not a fan of the sport.”

I offer him a tight smile. I can do my job without having to love the brand I’m working for. I need to know what they want, understand their needs and it’ll be enough.

“I spoke with someone on your team to finalise all of the marketing plans we shared,” I start, needing to stay on task. “We’ve also put together a few revamped ideas that we can implement once you’re back in Chennai. And as discussed, a small group is willing to travel with the Renegades to get as much content as much as we can.”

Mr. Jaishankar nods, which looks more like a drunken head loll, and a sleazy smile crosses his lips. I don’t react or move. Men like him—with money, power and a famous name—think that everyone cowers in front of them. I’ve seen lesser people bend and break, but I’ve also learned from watching them that nothing good comes from that.

I’ll work with the Chennai Renegades, but not for them. No matter how much money Mr. Jaishankar offers.

The gentleman beside the drunken slimeball clears his throat nervously. “Ms. Thomas, I think it might be better if we reschedule this meeting for the morning. Would that be all right with you?”

“Sure.”

“We’ve booked out the business centre for tomorrow, I’ll send you all the details tonight.”

“Looking forward to it,” I tell him, a genuine smile on my lips.

He nods and leans over to speak to Mr. Jaishankar who slurs in response. I don’t blame him for celebrating, they won tonight. But from a professional standpoint, this was a terrible move. I look up as I sip on my water—disguising it as a gin and tonic has been easy, add a little soda and a wedge of lime—and find Elias watching me. He’s standing with some teammates, nodding at what one of them is saying, but his eyes are fixed on me. When I arch an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitches and I hide my own smile with my glass.

Once everyone leaves, I empty my glass and get to my feet. I don’t have to look to know that Elias is still staring, because I can feel his gaze like a hot caress. I head to the bar and slide the extra keycard to the bartender, and give him instructions before heading to the elevator bank.

Then I text Elias.

Room 543. Spare key is at the bar.