Chapter Three

I hadn't seen Felipe, nor had any contact with him, in over six months. Nevertheless, I wasn't overly surprised to find him at my doorstep one Sunday morning.

"Hola," he said, a grin spreading across his cheeky face. Hands stuffed into his jeans' pockets, he rocked on his heels, waiting for me to invite him in.

When I stepped to the side, he winked and immediately strolled through the doorway and into my home.

"Wow, this is a shithole," he said, coming to halt in the middle of the room.

I pushed the door shut, followed by the swift kick required to make it close properly, and then leaned against it with my arms folded.

"I can throw you out just as quickly as I let you in," I warned him.

Felipe grinned again. "Now you're inside with me, it looks better already."

Mellowing to his charming ways, I gestured for him to sit down on the sofa and then joined him, curling my legs beneath me.

"So, how've you been?" I asked.

He looked well, sporting a healthy glow to his bronzed skin, but Felipe kept his travels a secret, so he could have spent the last few months in a sweltering prison for all I knew.

"I've been fantastic," he said. "I'd ask the same about you, but I already know."

I rolled my eyes. "I don't like the fact you can check up on me, but I'm not allowed to know where you are."

He shifted on the sofa, picking up a velvet cushion and turning it over in his hands. "It's better this way, Sash; I don't want you dragged into my stuff. This arrangement works fine for both of us, doesn't it?"

Smiling, I nudged him with my knee. "Sorry if you misunderstood. I actually meant I don't like constantly wondering whether you're lurking around a corner, watching me."

His eyes twinkled as he pinned me with a mischievous stare that brought back hundreds of memories from university—all of them good ones.

"Well, I did enjoy the skirt you wore on Wednesday..."

Apparently no longer caring about the state of my flat, he dropped the cushion onto the floor and shuffled closer. His warm palm trailed lazily—yet full of intent—along my inner thigh. Heat burned through the thin fabric of my leggings and gathered between my legs, that familiar tingling anticipation pulsing at my core.

"I didn't wear a skirt on Wednesday," I said.

Felipe's smile widened. "It was worth a shot."

Closing the short space between us, I wound my hand in his thick tresses of dark hair and pulled his mouth to mine. We could spend months apart, but we always fell straight back into the same routine without a moment's hesitation or an ounce of awkwardness.

As our lips clawed at each other in well-practised sync, I climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs, the inside of my knees pressing into his hips. This was fantastic timing. I hadn't had sex in weeks, and my extensive collection of vibrators couldn't replicate the sensation of sweat-slicked muscles beneath my hands or a heavy body pinning me to a mattress.

My clit pulsed at the thought. I rocked against the hard bulge of Felipe's erection, the coarse denim providing a delicious friction that drew a breathy moan from me. Large hands encircled my waist, encouraging my rhythm, until I gave up on kissing and instead chased the hot, aching pressure tugging between my thighs.

"Want some help?" The calm words were pressed against my ear.

It had always amazed me that Felipe could remain so chilled when it came to sex. I completely lacked the discipline, although having a fuck buddy who didn't mind taking his time on a woman had its advantages too.

"Please."

One hand dropped from my waist to my stomach and eased beneath my leggings. For several infuriating seconds, he toyed with the crotch of my thong, pinching it, tugging it back and forth, before finally slipping inside the fabric and cupping me between my legs.

The heel of his palm pressed against my clit, and I threw back my head to gasp, my fingertips digging into the firm muscles lining his broad shoulders.

"Fuck, I've missed this pussy." He pushed two long fingers inside me.

An amused scoff tore from my throat. "You get plenty of pussy when you're away."

"Doesn't mean I don't miss this one."

He dragged his fingers in and out, his thumb working my clit, until the tight coil of pressure in my abdomen snapped and my orgasm rippled through me.

As I came down, Felipe floated his fingertips up my spine, gathering the hem of my top. He effortlessly unclipped my bra strap in the same motion, tugged both off, then pressed his lips to my ear.

"Quick," he commented, the simple word laced with amusement.

"It'd been a while."

He chuckled, trailing his moistened lips down my neck, over my collar bone and eventually locking them around a nipple. High off my orgasm, I awarded myself a few moments of calm while I enjoyed his mouth devouring my chest. Only a few moments, though, because I had bigger plans. Much bigger plans.

"Can you fuck me now, please?" I asked.

"Since you used your manners..."

In a tangle of limbs and kisses, we wriggled out of our remaining clothes. It was far from graceful, but that was the last thing on our minds as Felipe grasped my hips and slid himself inside me. Breathing hard, we stayed like that for several seconds, savouring that initial feeling of connection, before I began to rock back and forth.

The best thing about sex with Felipe was the pure nature of it, the sheer simplicity. We weren't in a relationship—far from it—but we had that familiarity and comfort that allowed us to try out new things in a way that you'd never be able to do on a one-night stand. We knew what each other liked, there was no second guessing, and we both made sure we were getting the best out of it.

For all intents and purposes, it was relationship sex—just without the romance or the relationship.

"Mmn, I nearly forgot how dirty you can be," Felipe murmured in my ear afterwards as we lay together on the sofa.

"Nearly?" I repeated, a lazy smile forming around my mouth.

"Well, it'd be impossible to completely forget some of the things we did at uni together."

Exhausted, I allowed my eyes to flutter shut as I reminisced over the crazier shit that Felipe and I had done together. After a tough time at school, it was great to meet someone I properly clicked with and who seemed to equally enjoy spending time with me.

"How long are you around for, then?" I asked.

Felipe raised a hand to his mouth as he yawned. "Not sure. Maybe just a few days. You know how it is. Don't like staying in one place for too long."

"Any clues as to where you're headed next?"

He breathed out a short laugh. "I'll never tell you, no matter how many times you ask."

I sighed. "I get it. Things are going well, though?"

"Really well," he assured me. "Better than ever. That's the thing with my line of work: the more I do it, the better I get."

"Calling it a line of work is pushing it," I said with a smile.

"I make money, don't I?"

"Can't argue with that."

Felipe began to ask me about my work, whether my job was more stable, and if Alastair had been behaving himself. When I explained that I was still fulfilling at least three job roles all at once, he tutted.

"Your problem is that work is the biggest thing in your life. Do you have a boyfriend yet?"

"I wouldn't be lying here with you if I did."

"No guys at work take your fancy?"

I shook my head. "Alastair has cunningly filled the office with women. There are only a few guys, and just one who I'd perhaps have a fling with... But I don't know if it's worth the gossip."

Felipe scoffed. "Who cares about gossip?"

"I care. I have to work with those girls. And one of them already has her eye on him."

"Yeah, but Sash, if he's a good-looking dude, then obviously they're going to have their eye on him. That doesn't mean they've got dibs. Those girls are bitches, anyway, and you don't owe them anything. You work hard and you deserve to have fun. If you wanna fuck him in the lift, then go for it."

"Hmm," I said. "There's CCTV in the lifts so I think I'll pass."

Felipe laughed. "Now that would be something worth gossiping about."

* * *

I arrived at work the next morning with an extra spring in my step. Tomorrow, or the day after, I'd return home from work and Felipe would be gone again, but I wasn't one to dwell on something that I knew was going to happen and that I had no control over.

When we'd continued seeing each other out of uni, I understood the deal. I hadn't been tricked and I wasn't hopeful it would change—because I knew Felipe, I knew what made him tick, and I wasn't going to take that away from him. I stayed out of his life until he stepped back into mine, and that arrangement worked fine for the both of us.

With that in mind, I always made the most of our time together and enjoyed it while it lasted, knowing it could end at any moment.

Alastair didn't miss my change in attitude, though, when I passed him in the lobby on my way into the office.

"You're more lively than usual," he said from where he was leaning casually against the reception desks.

I tossed him an innocent smile. "I had my caffeine kick early this morning."

"Evidently," he said as his eyes flickered over my body in an almost suspicious fashion. "Hold the lift, will you?"

I jabbed at the upwards arrow and the doors opened instantly. Stepping cautiously over the threshold to avoid getting a heel stuck in the gap—that was a careless mistake you only make once—I held down the button that kept the doors open and waited for Alastair.

His soft, well-spoken voice was drowned out by cascading water from the lobby's fountain—an unnecessary accessory that Alastair had fallen in love with because it apparently made our offices unique—so I had no idea how long I'd be waiting. Rather than becoming impatient, though, like I usually might, I entertained myself by recalling my night with Felipe and the various motions he'd put my body through.

"Sorry." Alastair's voice interrupted memories of butt plugs and handcuffs as he slid into the lift beside me. "You look like you were a million miles away."

"No," I said, pressing the button for the twentieth floor. "Only Clapham."

He chuckled. "Okay, well, just so you know, it couldn't be more obvious that you got laid last night."

"Fuck off." I bit back my smile.

"I held off saying it in front of the receptionists because I didn't want to embarrass you... but I don't usually get a smile out of you until at least ten o'clock."

"Like you give a shit about embarrassing me."

His soft, musical laugh bounced off the mirrored walls around us. "I'll assume I'm right since you've not bothered denying it."

"I'm afraid this isn't an appropriate conversation to be having in the workplace, Mr. Montgomery," I replied smoothly, shooting him a smug smile.

"And that's probably not an appropriate skirt length for the workplace but you don't see me reprimanding you for it."

"Yeah, funny that."

The banter between us came naturally. With Alastair, you rarely had to worry about overstepping the mark—he'd likely be more offended if you spoke to him like a boss than like another work colleague.

When the familiar ping signalled us arriving at our floor, the doors separated and we both stepped into the office, heading towards our respective seats. Alastair wasted no time in knocking up the volume of the music a few notches, nodding his head along to the tune.

We settled into another day, full of catty comments from the girls, inappropriate remarks from Alastair, and a workload that only seemed to grow with each passing hour. Thankfully I was in a good mood.

* * *

Sure enough, a few days later, Felipe vanished. Disappointment settled in my gut, but I didn't allow myself to brood over it for too long.

For the first couple of days, I missed the regular sex, the easy company and coming home to meals on the table each night. But then I soon got back into my normal routine of work, gym, and bed.

Just like pepperoni pizza, Felipe was a treat that was best enjoyed on rare occasions.

* * *

Felipe watched the mark get out of the Bentley and head across to the cash point. He inserted his card, jabbed in his PIN, and then started pressing buttons on the screen.

Just as the machine ejected the notes, Felipe pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning against, and strolled down towards him, resisting the urge to shake his head to himself as the suited man slid his wallet into his jacket pocket. He couldn't make it much easier, but that was the thing with people like him—they were far too complacent.

As the mark began to head back down the street, Felipe lifted his phone to his ear and began his fake conversation, improvising as he went along, spitting angry Spanish insults at the fake recipient.

Then, just as the two were about to pass, Felipe's carefully calculated movements—combined with the illusion that he was distracted on the phone—caused their shoulders to collide. With well-practised ease, he used the impact to disguise his hand darting into the jacket pocket, his two fingers lifting out the wallet in a matter of milliseconds.

The mark muttered something under his breath about foreigners, but didn't stop, not even to cast a glance over his shoulder. Felipe couldn't help the smug smile that made its way onto his lips. A banker who was corrupt and racist, and now about to lose more than just his temper.

Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. 

***

Thank you for reading :) xx