I still go to the club with his cousins despite the tantrum; I'm not gonna cancel my plan just because he's mad about me going alone. I fucking asked him outside the ballroom to which he childishly unfriended me so FINE, be it that way. Go sulk at your fancy penthouse on your own while I enjoy my time with the adults. Though after two hours of a good time, I go to the man-child's place since I left my stuff there, including my newly purchased handbag; there is no way I'm leaving my eleven thousand precious bag which is also the first (and probably the last) Birkin I own. He was still sulking the moment I reached there. To think that I had to ask a favor from Dean if he could take the kids one more night just to accompany Luca to the reception dinner, urgh! This is so frustrating. I should've known my boys are my priority, not a friend who's no longer a friend."What are you doing..?" I ask him once I open the door of his home office that's fully equipped with the latest gaming gadge
"I'm sorry." He mutters as he distances himself from me. I bite my lips while keeping my head straight, refusing to look at him. My hand itches so bad to give him the slap of the century for assaulting me into four orgasms before finally having the decency to ask if I want him. "Fuck you." I grit my teeth while fixing my panties, then bend down to pick up the bra he discarded earlier.He ruffles his hair, clearly regretting what he did just now. But it's too late. Game over, Luc. There's no way we can go back to the friendship we created months ago. "You are the last person I'd think to ever do this," I hate that my tears are staining my cheek, and how my voice vibrates for how mad I am, "You forced me, when I've told you I didn't want it.""I'm really sorry, Soph...""You, are the worst decision in my whole life." Meeting him for the first time a year ago, what the fuck was in my head when I decided to accept his offer to be his sugar baby? How stupid I'd been to get pregnant twic
I'm one of those people who plans on what to dream at night. It might sound weird but that's just how I operate; I find closure by controlling the outcomes of what has happened in my life instead of accepting it to be the way it actually had. Last year after Luca and I went on separate ways, every single night, without fail, I would go to bed by fantasising a different ending, not the bitter one we had at the parking lot. I knew Luca and I could never see each other again because for one, I have my own ego after being tossed like a piece of trash like that. And two, he's such a jerk that he wouldn't bat an eye about my struggle to move on because for him, I'm just a sugar baby, someone he'd bed for a few weeks before jumping to the next in line. So the only way I could get my closure, the one I desperately needed to move on, was through my dreams.Every night I would go to the dream land as early as nine, right after putting my kids to bed. On tiring days I would drift off in like
One would think once we realise we've done something wrong, something stupid, or absolutely a brainless moronic action a sane person would never do, we'd stop immediately before things become worse. There's even this saying on how we shouldn't do the same mistake twice because that's just plain stupid. Guess I am one plain stupid human being because instead of stopping this idiotic act, I repeat the mistake again. After he came, the moment my mind registered what had happened, I jumped off him and rushed to the ensuite bathroom to clean myself with the one objective in mind that was to leave as soon as possible. I didn't know what to say or what to do, even what to think so I got out of the scene, hid in the bathroom, hoping I wouldn't have to say anything at all until I left that place: it would just be a quick fuck-and-go affair. But he joined me. He opened the bathroom door that I forgot to lock because all this while, I've never done that. I've never locked the bedroom or th
Do you know how draining it is that for every situation in my life, my brain seems to be programmed to think of the worst case scenario just so I'll be mentally prepared when things go wrong? It's exhausting, to the point that I want nothing else but to shut down. That's how my custody agreement was drafted; I'd get the boys during the weekdays so I'll fully function from Sunday evening to Friday evening -get them ready for school, send them to school, torture myself with the heavy workload at the office, pick up the kids, feed them dinner, then bedtime- but once the weekend starts, which for me would be on Friday evenings, I'd immediately shut down for the entire two days. There were weekends when I didn't even eat. I'd rather sleep and finally function on Sunday evening when my kids are back home. Yes, I enjoy my alone time very much. But that doesn't mean I dislike being with other people because when I'm at the office, I mingle around as if I'm an extrovert. But on weekends, I
"I don't understand how a two Michelin star restaurant like this needs more than ten minutes to serve the appetiser. Like seriously, for a smaller portion compared to what we'd have at McDonald's, we pay more-"I immediately stop myself in the middle of the argument, or to be precise, from being a Karen when he arches one eyebrow up since he's the one who'll be paying for this meal so I shrug, "Fine, YOU are the one who's gonna pay so you have every right to choose where to eat but what I'm trying to say is, us, the customer, pay more for the same dish we can probably find at a mediocre restaurant, perhaps on a less fancy plate with a 'meh' deco but at least it won’t take this long. At McDonalds’s, it’s just five minutes then bam! You've got your order. But here, what? It’s fifteen minutes now? The cost at McDonalds’s or at those mediocre restaurants is like a fraction of what you'll be paying here. But we haven’t gotten our order. That doesn't sound fair, isn't it? For the money we'r
"What time are you gonna pick them up?" He asks when we were riding the elevator to Level 40. I take a glance at the watch on my wrist before answering, "In two hours." "Damn it," he growls before launching his lips on mine as one of his hands pulls me closer to him. I squeal at the sudden attack, "The fuck, Luca?" After pushing his chest to get away from him, I take a few steps backward to distance ourselves, wiping my mouth thanks to his sloppy kiss earlier. "We need to start now if we're gonna make it in time. Now." With that he pulls me to him again, though instead of attacking my lips, he's targeting my neck by nibbling on every inch of it. I groan, half protesting. The other half? I'm battling with myself for how good he makes me feel. If not for the elevator door that opens a few seconds later, I'm sure I'll be a very willing partner despite the CCTV installed in here. "Let's go, Baby," he grabs both of my thighs that I automatically hop on and straddle him. I hate ho
The week slowly passes by as I try my best to forget everything we did. Though having a sore pussy doesn’t help much, it’s a constant reminder how Luca has successfully fucked me good to the point I'm starting to question myself if we really should stop. I mean, best-friends-with-benefits can work too, no?The logical part of me, the one that contributed to my success of getting a Petroleum Engineering degree, screams no to that. A big fat bold no, all capital letters, with an exclamation mark at end. NO! It’s not a wise decision to dip my feet into an unfamiliar territory just because the sex is good. Luca and I, we are happy as friends, why would I need to ruin it as if there is no other men left in this world to tackle that pleasure department. Remember Christian? Because he’s still my sugar daddy slash boyfriend-by-contract since it was stipulated in writing I were to provide him the girlfriend-experience. Yeah the logical Sophie is right. Things will only get messy. And I don