At least no one found out what happened after.
Julie couldn2527t help it. After her brief dalliance with the charming, carefree, married Henry Aston, he was well and truly under her skin. Mr. and Mrs. Aston were only out of town for a couple of weeks when reality sank in—little Julie Ho was just a summer fling.
Here2527s how it all turned out in the end. What happened when the Astons got back from their road trip. What happened after a chance meeting in a cocktail bar on the other side of town. And what happened when Henry finally introduced Julie to his wife.
About Her is the long-awaited part two of About Henry from the CapriLuxe Chronicles (you can read part one for free on Wattpad).
Excerpt of “About Her”
I never bring guys back to my place. I2527m not one of those women who has her shit together enough to make a bachelorette pad out of a cheap one-bedroom rental. Why would I? When I moved to the city to be closer to work, I didn2527t think I2527d be staying long.
But before I knew it, I2527d signed another lease agreement, then another, with old moving boxes still sealed, still lining the living room wall.
I tried, though, while the Astons were out of town. I went to IKEA, bought a respectable looking flat sheet, and draped it over the boxes. A new lamp, a stack of books, and three half-empty bottles of liqueur now disguised the whole thing as a sideboard. I2527d grown up a lot over those six weeks.
Henry seemed impressed. As he walked around the room, his fingers danced over my furnishings like they were piano keys. I was nervous, having him—having anyone—see my dump of an apartment.
But boiling in my gut was also this feeling of fuck it. This place was me, a snapshot of who I was at the time. And maybe I still wouldn2527t invite just anyone over, but Henry…well, I wanted him to see. And if he didn2527t like it, he could go back to his luxurious hotel and talk to the people in uniform who got paid to be nice to him. I was off the clock. And this place was me.
One by one, he read the spines of the books piled up on my sideboard. When he got to the bottom, he broke into a big smile.
“I love his book.” A world of gushing in just four words. This man was art.
The book he held up, on the other hand, was some banged-up paperback with a weird looking guy on the cover.
“Oh, I haven2527t read it. One of the girls at work gave it to me before she transferred to London. What2527s it about, then, two people hooking up?”
“That, and more. It2527s always about more.”
“I didn2527t think trashy books were your thing.”
“Trashy, no. But books can2527t be defined by their category. This one2527s a good book.” He put it back on top of the pile. His expression was different when he looked at me again.
Was he judging me, maybe for the books he didn2527t deem good books? Or maybe for the wisps of dust that had rubbed off on his fingers while touching them? Or the pile of dirty dishes in the kitchen sink?
He stood over me. With my back pressed against the wall, I found it much too close yet still not close enough. My heart thumped so hard, I2527m sure he saw the vein in my neck pulsing. His body radiated heat, and he watched me like…I don2527t even know what.
Was it a challenge? And examination, maybe? I was a bug under his microscope, and if he2527d been anyone else, this whole situation would2527ve creeped me the fuck out.
But not with him. Henry, the rich white foreigner in my home, seemed perfectly at ease in my disorganised East Perth pigsty, with not a single smart-arse comment about last year2527s Chinese New Year calendar hanging on the wall. Right then, right there, I felt seen. And I felt safe.
“This tell you enough about me?” I asked him. I scratched his scruffy stubble. Did Melody touch him that way too? He gave a lopsided smile.
“Not nearly. How about you show me the bedroom next?”
I don2527t recall everything as well as I2527d like. I remember the lights not working. I remember my bra hook getting caught in my hair. And I remember Henry2527s socks. Now, I hate the sock thing as much as the next girl, but I remember telling him to keep them on. I liked that they were a gift from his wife.
I remember looking up with him kneeling over me, my knees over his shoulders, his arms around my waist, and his face between my legs. His tongue worked sharp, soft, textured, slow, then fast in just the right place. I was drunk, I was numb and warm and scattered and helpless in his grasp. Every muscle in my body tense with anticipation. I was on the edge—right on the fucking edge—ready to go over. But then he pulled away.
“God, why—”
“Not yet.”
—
Read “About Her” for free on Vocal:
https://vocal.media/filthy/about-her-ec1q205m6
Read part one, “About Henry”, for free on Wattpad:
https://www.wattpad.com/572080498-capriluxe-chronicles-about-henry
About CapriLuxe Chronicles
Employees skirting the rules, following their desires, risking it all for that heady rush of lust. CapriLuxe Hotels and Resorts caters to an elite clientele with diverse tastes.
CapriLuxe Chronicles, an adults-only anthology, features erotic shorts from authors around the world. Read it for free on Wattpad. (no login required)
About JL Peridot
JL Peridot writes sexy love stories and more from a tiny, cluttered apartment (with no sideboard) in sunny, locked-down Western Australia. Her latest book, “It Starts With A Kiss”, is a nerdy, sci-fi office romance—a little HEA for her fellow ladies in tech. Right now, she2527s working on a futuristic romantic suspense novel, washing her hands, and playing a lot of video games.
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