It was the daylight slipping through the curtains that woke me and I rolled to try to escape it. Or at least tried to.

A large body pressed against my back and arm wrapped around my waist, pinning me in place.

Blearily opening my eyes I glanced down at it and then over my shoulder to where Tommy slept. His peaceful expression so at odds with his customary cheeky grin.

Carefully lifting his arm I roll onto my back, and prop myself on a couple of pillows. Tommy makes a small grumbling noise in his sleep and grips me a little tighter.

Fighting the urge to laugh I retrieve my phone from the bedside table and confirm it's just after six. Considering how late we were up I can't believe I'm not completely exhausted still.

I ache all over, especially my legs. Sex with Tommy turned out to be a full body workout and I can't say I didn't enjoy it. If exercise felt this good all the time then I'd probably be a lot fitter than I currently am.

"Good morning gorgeous," Tommy mumbles in a voice rough from sleep.

Pulled out of my thoughts I look down at him wrapped around my body. His hips shift and I feel the hard length of him against my thigh, "Again?" I laugh, "I would have thought you had more than enough of that last night."

Tommy moves so quickly I don't have time to think before he's over me, lips barely an half an inch from mine, "Oh Miss Wendall-Jones, I will never have had enough of you."

We are both naked and he's poised at my entrance. For a second, neither of us move. Then I reach up to kiss him and at the moment our lips meet, he thrusts inside me. I can't help the moan that breaks free as he builds a steady rhythm.

Our movements are synchronised. There is no space between our bodies. Just him and me as one. Time has no meaning as he takes me closer and closer to my orgasm. But just before I reach it he slows his movements.

"Tommy please." My keening cry protests the change of pace as my fingers dig into his shoulders.

"Patience." He says tightly, closing his eyes, "Slow down a second gorgeous."

"Please Tommy. Please. Please." I chant, moving my hips in an effort to bring myself back to the edge I was about to tip over.

"Fuck." Tommy mutters and something in him snaps as he slams into me harder and faster than before.

The pressure builds and builds until I come apart with a cry and he follows soon after.

Slumped on my chest I look down at the top of his head and our sweaty tangled bodies. Our panting breaths the only sound in the stillness.

"Oh shit, condom." Tommy mutters suddenly lifting his head from my chest to look at me.

"I'm clean and protected." I say, patting my arm where the implant sits, "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

I roll my eyes, "Clean. I know you weren't protected."

"Oh yeah, I am, of course, sorry." He is still watching me with lust drunk eyes.

I buck my hips slightly, "Up? I need to go get cleaned up."

He pouts, "You don't want to snuggle?"

"Not right this second with all that coming out of me, let me get clean!" I laugh.

He reluctantly rolls sideways to release me and I attempt to move gracefully towards the bathroom. But my waddle is anything but graceful if his barely smothered laughter is anything to go by.

Flipping him off over my shoulder I shut the door behind me and begin to clean myself up.

It's not until I'm wrapping myself in a towel after an impromptu shower that I see myself in the mirror.

Most of my makeup is gone, although smudges of mascara dot along my lower lash line. It's the glow in my face that really strikes me. I never really understood it when people discussed that loved up feeling.

Love? I'm not willing to say I'm there yet but I'm pretty darn close.

I dab the smudges away with a damp finger and then emerge into the bedroom in a cloud of steam.

"You look ready to unwrap." Tommy's hungry gaze is already on me.

"You're insatiable!" I laugh, dodging his grabbing hands as I make my way to our discarded clothes.

"Spoil sport!" He laughs and then gives a dramatic sigh, "I should probably shower too."

"Alright, see you in a sec." I say as begin to dress.

The click of the door shutting behind him and the shower running is surprisingly loud in the quiet hotel room. It's hard to believe we are in the middle of London.

As soon as I'm dressed I sink into the chair by the window and glance out. London can be pretty beautiful when it wants to be. All mysterious fog and shadowy buildings.

Grabbing my phone I begin to scroll social media so many beautiful celebrities in perfect poses. I glance at the closed bathroom door.

With all the women in the world probably only too pleased to fall as his feet, why me? Was it because I didn't immediately fall? Was it just the challenge of trying to get me that got his attention? My heart sinks. Am I even his type?

An idea strikes me and I search Tommy's name. I just want see what the women he usually goes for look like. It's probably a bad idea.

Almost certainly a bad idea my brain confirms as the images tagging him load. It's the top one that catches my eye. The most recent one.

My blood runs cold and there's a weird ringing in my ears. Tommy is wearing the exact outfit he was yesterday but that isn't me pressed to his lips. It's Melanie.

Bile rises in my throat and I swallow it down as my eyes drift to the date and confirm it was posted less than twenty-four hours ago.

I close my eyes to hold back the tears. It's not like I had any claim over him then. I have no right to feel the ache in my chest as I gaze at it.

The caption reads "Mel and Moore get hands on on set of the new series 👀". I want to scream. Want to rage about how he could tell me he was angry at her all day but still apparently have found time to kiss and make up before he ended up in bed with me.

I take a deep breath, despite my best effort to think rationally, my heart is absolutely breaking.

I can't let him find me like this. Not when my emotions are all over the place.

I need to get out. I need space to breathe. Each breath is coming out faster and faster as I realise I'm on the verge of a panic attack.

This is exactly why I pushed back. Exactly why I resisted him in the first place.

I should have understood when I discovered the deceit around his job role.

I creep across the room, shoes in hand and pause for a second by the bathroom door. He's whistling some obnoxiously happy tune. I shake my head and blink back more tears before opening the door as quietly as I can, slipping out and letting it shut behind me.

As soon as I reach the lift I start stabbing the button as fast as I can, glancing over my shoulder occasionally to see if he is following. Out here I can't even hear the shower so I have no idea if he has even noticed I've gone yet.

The doors are even fully open when I dive in and stab the ground floor button. Slipping my shoes on and brushing the damp hair back off my shoulders I try to straighten myself up so it looks a little less like the walk of shame it is.

I can't look at the receptionist as she calls out something about hoping I enjoyed my stay.

It's colder than I expect on the street and I make a split second decision to head home rather than to the office. I'm not ready for anyone I know to see me like this.

The station is busier than I expect, something I'm actually thankful for for once. It's so much easier to get lost in a large crowd.

My phone buzzes in my hand and it's him calling me. I reject the call and deposit my phone into my bag so it can't distract me.

On the train I pick a seat nearest the window, staring sightlessly at the passing blurs of buildings and people. Lost in thought.

"Are you ok?" A hand touches my shoulder and I flinch, looking round at a pretty dark haired girl.

She looks concerned and it's at that point I realise I'm crying. I quickly brush the tears from my cheeks, "Oh I'm fine. Sorry."

She shakes her head, "Don't apologise hun, just ask yourself this; is he worth it?"

"How did you-"

"It always is." Her face breaks into a smile before she stands and then looks uncertainly back at me.

I probably look a fright.

"Look, I don't normally do this but you look like you could do with a friend. If you ever want to talk, this is me." She offers me a card which I take as though it's golden ticket.

"Thank you." I say, hoping my wobbly voice conveys my sincerity.

"Just look after yourself." She says with a little wave over her shoulder as she gets off.

I look down at the card in my hands.A journalist. The professional part of me thinks that could be a useful contact but I'm too mentally tired to process it. I look back at the doors she left through. Is he worth it? It's a good question.

His friendship, his humour, I somehow feel like I've known him a lifetime but that every day is new and exciting.

Perhaps I made a mistake rushing out? I've always been the sort of person who acts rashly and regrets it when it's too late to come back.

I should have just talked to him. I drop my head back against the seat and groan.

The voice over the speakers confirms the next stop is mine and I sit up and pull my phone out.

8 missed calls from My Man Tommy
4 unread messages from My Man Tommy

I close my eyes briefly to prepare myself. Time to get the full story and just hope it's not the one my mind conjured up of them together and him no longer interested now he caught me.