90-DAYS WET

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Elise laughed as she said it..soft, breathless..but her fingers were already clenched in the fabric of his shirt, knuckles whitening as if she were afraid he might disappear the moment she let go.

The boy didn’t answer. He stepped closer instead, crowding her into the corner of the private room, the bass from the club vibrating through the walls like a second heartbeat.

His hand lifted…still not touching her..hovering just close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his palm against her waist.

“That look?” he asked quietly. “You came here for it.”

Elise swallowed. She was too old for this. Too married. Too recognizable in Middle Brooke to be pressed into velvet-lined walls with a stranger half her age, the door locked behind them…and yet.

“You don’t know what I came here for,” she said.

His mouth curved slowly, knowingly, like he’d heard that line before and enjoyed proving it wrong every time.

“I know you didn’t come to be bored.”

Her pulse hammered. She hated how easily he read her, how little effort it took. He didn’t fawn. Didn’t rush. He let the silence stretch, letting her fill it with her uneven breathing.

Behind them, Doris lounged on the couch, legs crossed, watching as if this were a show she’d paid for. Which, Elise realized with a flicker of heat and shame, it kind of was.

“Relax,” Doris drawled. “You look like you’re about to bolt.”

Elise didn’t take her eyes off the boy. “I’m not.”

“No?” His hand finally settled on her hip…firm, possessive, as if he’d already decided she belonged exactly where she stood. “Then stop holding yourself like you’re waiting for permission.”

That did it.

Something inside her snapped…not loudly, not dramatically. Just a clean break. Elise exhaled, her shoulders lowering as years of composure and restraint slipped an inch out of place.

There it is, he seemed to think.

He leaned in, close enough that his mouth brushed her ear when he spoke.

“Good.”

Her knees weakened. She hadn’t expected that…hadn’t expected her body to betray her so completely. She grabbed his forearm to steady herself, and his smile sharpened, darker this time.

“You see?” he murmured. “I don’t even need to touch you much. You’re already halfway gone.”

Heat flooded her neck. “You’re very confident for someone who’s being paid.”

Doris snorted from the couch.

The boy’s eyes flicked briefly toward her, then returned to Elise, unbothered. “Confidence is part of the service.”

“And the rest?” Elise asked, lifting her chin, challenging him.

He tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle he already knew how to solve. “The rest depends on how honest you’re willing to be.”

She should have walked away then. Should have smoothed her dress, laughed it off, gone home to her immaculate bedroom and her distant husband, pretending this was just another story she’d never tell.

Instead, she asked, “Honest about what?”

“What you want.”

The room felt smaller suddenly. Thicker. Elise became acutely aware of everything…his hand still on her hip, Doris’s gaze heavy on her skin, the faint hum of the city outside, unaware that her life was quietly cracking open.

She thought of Richard. Of his distracted kisses. Of being adored like a possession and ignored like a woman.

“I want,” she said slowly, “to feel like I’m not invisible.”

The boy didn’t laugh. Didn’t tease.

His thumb pressed into her hip, grounding her. Claiming her.

“Then don’t act like someone who wants to be,” he said.

The words landed hard. Not cruel. Precise.

Her breath caught. God help her, she liked that…liked being spoken to like she could be corrected. Like she’d been doing something wrong all along and he was finally pointing it out.

“I think,” Doris said lightly, “that means she’s ready.”

Elise turned to glare at her. “Doris…”

“She doesn’t need you to decide for her,” the boy cut in, voice low and steady.

That shut Doris up.

Elise’s stomach flipped. No one talked over Doris. No one contradicted her in that tone. He’d done it effortlessly, eyes never leaving Elise’s face, like the rest of the room didn’t exist.

“Do you always talk back to the people paying you?” Elise asked.

“Only the ones who want me to,” he replied.

Silence fell again. Heavy. Electric.

Elise’s lips parted. She could feel herself tipping..into something reckless, something she’d spent years pretending she didn’t need.

“Your name,” she said suddenly.

He hesitated for the first time, just a fraction of a second.

“Luca.”

She repeated it under her breath, savoring it. “Luca.”

He smiled, slower now, satisfied.

“That’s better,” he said. “Now tell me..are you going to keep standing there pretending you’re in control, or are you going to let tonight be what it already is?”

Her answer came before her pride could stop it.

“Show me,” Elise said.

Luca’s hand tightened on her hip, no longer gentle.

He guided her toward the other couch. She sat without breaking eye contact.

He dropped to his knees, hitching her skirt up and exposing skin-toned pantyhose. His fingers traced slowly along her thigh before squeezing the sensitive inside.

A soft, helpless sound escaped her lips.

He tore the fabric and Elise inhaled sharply. Even his restraint, his economy of movement, seemed to ignite her.

“I’m going to make you feel good,” he said, pushing her red panties aside.

He inhaled her scent, and the warmth of his breath made her shudder.

When his tongue flicked over her clit in slow, deliberate circles, Elise gripped the couch, a sharp cry tearing from her throat.

She tried to pull away, overwhelmed by the intensity, but he held her in place.

“Oh…fuck,” she breathed, pushing her hips upward, fingers tangling in his hair as she ground against his mouth.

“Feeling good?” Doris asked, amused.

Elise nodded, eyes glassy, a breathless laugh slipping out.

“Richard could never give you this,” Doris murmured as she spread her legs and began touching herself, aroused by the sight.

Luca’s tongue worked faster, deeper, the pace relentless. The room tilted as pleasure coiled tighter inside Elise.

“Yes…yes,” she cried, grinding harder, chasing the release building in her body.

Across the room, Doris pushed her panties aside, rubbing herself with increasing urgency. Her head fell back, fingers clenched between her thighs.

“Jesus, Elise,” she laughed. “Your moans are so sexy.”

“I’m gonna..Doris, I’m gonna…” Elise cried as her orgasm tore through her.

Richard would be furious if he knew. If he saw this…someone else giving her the pleasure he never had in fifteen years of marriage. The thought only made it sharper.

Luca didn’t stop until she was trembling. He licked her clean before looking up, a faint smile tugging at his mouth.

“How did I do?” he asked.

“Not bad,” Elise said, surprising herself. “But I’d appreciate less talking and more fucking.”

He straightened, something dark flashing across his face.

Doris came beside them with a broken cry.

“Your turn,” Luca said, dropping his pants.

Elise pulled down his briefs. His flushed cock sprang free, already slick, almost brushing her face.

“For a boy,” she murmured, startled, “you’re quite big.”

Bigger than Richard.

Without thinking, she pressed her tongue to the tip. Luca groaned softly as she teased him before taking him deeper.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pushing further into her mouth.

Suddenly his hand slid into her hair, gripping hard. He drove deeper, impatient, using her mouth without hesitation.

Saliva spilled down her chin.

She looked ruined. Wanting.

“Ooh,” Doris teased. “Someone’s impatient.”

Luca groaned, head tipping back as he thrust harder until Elise gagged.

“You like that, don’t you?” he sneered. “Pretending you’re inexperienced while taking it like an obedient little slut.”

He sounded nothing like the boy she’d been speaking to minutes ago.

She nodded. She should have been offended..but she wasn’t. She liked it, liked the way he used her mouth, liked the way the words sank into her.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

She obeyed instantly, aching, desperate, unable to wait for him to fill and stretch her out the way Richard never had.

Her phone rang.