𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚:

𝘚𝘌𝘟𝘜𝘈𝘓 𝘊𝘖𝘕𝘛𝘌𝘕𝘛, 𝘜𝘕𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘛𝘌𝘊𝘛𝘌𝘋 𝘚𝘌𝘟, 𝘜𝘚𝘌 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘔𝘌𝘕𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕 𝘖𝘍 𝘋𝘙𝘜𝘎𝘚

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

╰┈➤ 𝘐'𝘔 𝘛𝘙𝘠𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘛𝘖 𝘈𝘋𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 the fabric bag on my shoulder because it's about to fall down, while I'm staring at the colorful fruits at this stand, completely unsure what I want to buy. The sun is burning on the back of my neck and I'm glad John B reminded me to put on some sunscream beforehand. After all, summer holidays have finally started last week and the temperatures aren't getting any lower. But because I was able to get a job during this time, I also earn something and can get us something to eat at this beach market. 

The dogs on Figure 8 may be untrained and I have a lot of work to do with them, but I also get paid a lot of money for it; the most important thing. And their owners are always extremely happy with me, so much so that they even recommend me. 

Emma Rose Routledge, the Pogue Princess and now official an Kook dog walker, how ironic.

 "Hey," I greet the blonde woman behind her stand, who smiles at me in a friendly way with her green dress. It is common among pogues to not be seen. "I would take two bowls of strawberries, bananas and half a watermelon." She smiles, types it into her analogue cash register and wraps a little newspaper around the strawberries so that they don't get crushed or tumble around in her bag. I gratefully stow away my purchases and pull my small wallet out of the right leg pocket of my beige cargo pants. Something I also have left over from my mom. 

"Because I like your orange top so much and you're the first customer today, it's enough if you give me five dollars for everything." Out of all the flattery and random happiness, I beam at her very gently and tuck my front strands back behind her ears. As soon as I make a braid, they just fall out again after a short time because I cut them much shorter than the rest of my hair. 

"The day is getting more and more beautiful. Thank you, really, that wouldn't have been necessary." But she just waves it off. "That fits. Give my regards to your brother." 

I put my wallet away again. "I'll do it! See you soon." 

At the beginning it was new to me that everyone here knew each other so closely and my brother was probably a star in the cut. When it was announced that his twin sister was now living with him, people suddenly recognized me when I was out alone, which wasn't too rare. 

There are a few other stalls at the market that I walk past to check out. Including one who sells a lot of jewelry. I notice a necklace with shells, blue and green beads, like a gold starfish pendant. I also see a dolphin anklet that reminded me of Kie, but I prefer to make my own gifts and have decided to save a little. Plus, it's JJ's birthday next month, so I have to think about what he might like that doesn't turn into a stupid idea at the end. With my thoughts of him, I probably look amused and keep walking, not that the salesman still thinks I'm making fun of him. 

After looking around again until I don't feel like it anymore, I walk over a wooden bridge back to my motorcycle. JJ had been so impressed after the motorcycle race a while back that he gave me his and got a new one from Sarah - after begging. However, he then exchanged his back and I received the new one because he was "in such a strong relationship" with her. It didn't really matter to me as long as I had something of my own to drive. I hang the bag on the right side of the handlebars, even if it's damn dangerous and you shouldn't actually do it. But you shouldn't ride without a helmet and yet I do both and my heart is still beating consciously ... 

: ̗̀➛ 

Because I can't see the Twinkie anywhere when I park it in front of the veranda, I know that John B is still with the others on the way. They really wanted to continue their search for the gold with the map, but because I didn't feel like going and had to argue my way out of it for long enough, I didn't complain about being left alone. 

I take one box of strawberries out of my bag and put one in my mouth to try them. I wasn't disappointed at all, they taste extraordinarily heavenly and I would like to jump with giggles for joy, but then I feel like I'm being watched and have to smile at myself. Because, as if I had suspected it, I hear the hum of two motorcycles that immediately stop in front of the chateau. Curious and suspecting at the same time, I walk towards it with my strawberries in my hand, pressing my lips together in a slightly tense manner. Of course, it's Rafe taking off his helmet and Barry next to him. 

 I don't say anything, wait until they walk over to me and Rafe nods his head a bit before he gives Barry a look. 

"All alone, Princess?" There's dripping sarcasm in Barry's voice, but I don't mind. On the contrary, if I can speak one language, it's this one. 

"Better than with you," I reply coolly and offer them the strawberries. "You could definitely pull it through your nose." 

Barry lets out a slightly surprised laugh. "Naughty, your girlfriend, Rafe." 

But Rafe has a look on his face that looks much more proud than offended or amused. He licks his lips briefly. 

"Can we talk?" he asks, glancing over my shoulder at the porch. I think for a moment, then nod briefly and find a comfortable place to talk with them on the porch. Before that, however, I stash half the watermelon in our fridge and quickly drink a glass of water in one go. 

I sit down on the sofa and they both take one of the armchairs. Leaning back and leaning on the backrest with one arm, I briefly look at both of them in turn. A silent invitation for them to get started, to tell me what brought them to me. 

"I must have sold at least ten kilos of cocaine by this evening, preferably more. My usual customers already have their rations, but I can't sit on that stuff. I need the money," says Barry and then looks at me properly. My gaze finds Rafe's again, which apparently seems very soft and then dangerously longing, which is why I look away. 

"Now you need me to sell this stuff with Rafe, huh?"

 He grins, his gold-plated teeth flashing. "Smart girl. She's good!" 

Then he became very serious again and I sighed silently, already thinking about what I should decide. "Listen, Rafe looked at you highly and said there was no one better for the job than you." 

I raise a slightly smug eyebrow at the new realization. "Oh yeah?" 

All I get from the Kook Prince is a grin as he bites his bottom lip and definitely doesn't say anything. Idiot, I think to myself, amused. 

"What's my proportion?" I ask specifically and lean forward, folding my arms on my thighs. 

"Everyone gets the half, Em," Rafe answers me, and his voice penetrates so deeply into my consciousness that everything feels so faded out, as if there were suddenly just the two of us. And I don't know what drove me to my decision, but because I look away for a moment in embarrassment, my answer is a resounding yes. 

"You'll be here at nine, Cameron. We're going to a Kook Party after all, I guess." Declaring the conversation over, I stand up and signal them to leave before the others come back. 

Barry nods and briefly twists the corners of his mouth into a satisfied expression. "Rafe didn't lie about a word he said, clearly. And you're really intelligent, it makes business easier." He winked at me at the latter. 

I silently thank him for his statement, which makes my heart beat unusually fast. Knowing that I have such a present place in Rafe's mind that he can't help but talk about me. 

"Now get out of here," I simply add, returning the intense exchange of glances I have with Rafe before I inhale sharply, he understands, and wrinkles his nose with a certain amount of anger.

 "This little pogue princess is the complete opposite of John B, bro," is all I hear in Barry's voice, to which I roll my eyes humorously. I will probably always take the term personally. After all, I'm the one who has to look down on him. 

The only thing I remember is the Kook's reply: "Fuck, yeah. It's Emma Rose, dude."

: ̗̀➛

Rafe is there on time in his Range Rover, even waiting for me and as soon as I get in, I see him looking at me. The way his gaze slides from my curly hair over the silver sparkly top with the spaghetti straps, down to my black skirt and the white western boots that reach to my knees. 

"Stop it, we're working," I remind him with a sharp tongue click, ignoring the warmth creeping up my thighs, almost making my cheeks flush. The sudden tension that is so all-consuming around us completely clouds me. 

It takes him a while to find his words. "Your work clothes suit you, Routledge." 

Without further ado, he clears his throat and looks to the left before taking the curve. Fuck. It won't be long before we get there. A few motorcycles and also bicycles are parked in the driveway. Rafe parks on the street to the left of the entrance.

"Here," he hands me a few bags of the white snow before turning off the engine. I store them safely in my skirt, which has an inside pocket, there is no better hiding place. He briefly moistens his lips with his tongue, then clears his throat and looks away from me again. It is impossible to ignore the fact that he is struggling incredibly with himself. 

"You stay in my view okay? I need to be able to see you, Emma," he says sharply, putting his fingers on the door handle to get out. But first he demands an answer from me. 

"Yes, Rafe, I'll allow you to stare at me all evening," I reply provocatively, subtly saying that he needs to know the reason for looking after me and therefore being around him is a simple excuse that I saw through immediately. He wants me near him because he can't think of anything else. Because he longs for me and it gives him silent satisfaction to stare at me and project all his fantasies onto me. Involuntarily his eyes darken a little and deviate from our work. 

"If you need anything more, come to me. We'll leave half of it in the car." 

I give my consent and get out of the car, waiting a moment until Rafe has pressed the button and we can go in together. The many lights, the many kooks milling about and the loud blaring music. I know without a doubt that it is No lie by Sean Paul and Dua Lipa. I'm surprised that Kooks at least seem to have good taste in music. 

Rafe hits on a guy who looks a little younger than him. »Hey, I've got some coke. Tell the others, all right?" His interlocutor is very interested, pats him on the shoulder and hisses off. 

I join him, standing close to him and brushing my hair out of my face out of habit, while his blue eyes soften so much that I bite my bottom lip and he looks at it with an irresistible look. He clears his throat, almost embarrassed, and the way he says my name makes me weak in the knees. 

"Emma?"

 "Hm?" His posture changes. "I need you a lot more than this fucking coke, yeah?" he says in a voice so calm that I can hear his fear of being dropped. But in a matter of seconds the expression disappears again and he just nods a few times in a row, reaching over his nose. "Let's work." 

The whole thing still makes me sick, how crazy my heart is acting and how ridiculously it reacts to the kook, which should actually be completely taboo. I nod at him as he sits on the sofa five meters away, counting banknotes in his hand and Kooks around him, almost lining up for the material. In order to encourage the rest to buy, I go to the dance floor and use the advantage of being a woman; you are danced to unintentionally. But because I only see the money in front of me today, I'm even okay with it. 

I flirt deliberately, dance a little closer and get the guy who shows up to buy two bags from me. Even much more expensive than it actually is. Probably because he really needed to show that he had so much more money. In total this went on with twenty more Kooks. Once I was able to sell something to a tourist girl, who was much easier to rip off. My mouth is dry from all the whispering and my bones feel tired from dancing so long, so I go back to Rafe to see if he needs any support. I also sold everything I was carrying with me. 

How casually he sits there on the sofa, leaning back and spreading his legs, grinning so much that he almost seems dazed himself and I'm not sure where my thoughts are drifting. From a distance it looks like they are playing truth or dare. And the closer I get, the more I realize that I was probably right. I stand a little to the side, watching the action and the remaining finished lines that were spread out on the table, next to the paper tubes and the debit cards. 

"Emma," Rafe's voice interrupts me and as he sits up straighter, his eyes glued to me, "sit with me." 

Nervously, I tap my fingernails against my own palm, then I bravely withstand all the stares from the others , before sitting right next to Rafe. I immediately notice how warm his presence is. 

I decide to play along. I am assigned the task of Rafe drawing a line from my thigh. And I would have almost blushed if the task hadn't come from Topper. Maybe Meggi was also behind it, telling him that he should work to ensure that Emma and Rafe finally became a thing.

The Kook Prince looks at me expectantly, waiting. "We have to test the stuff we're selling, huh?" he tried, and I didn't mind at all, except for the fact that it was coke and it had to be done before anything else. 

"Fuck, okay," I grumble and he turns more towards me, I place my thigh over his. He puts his left hand on the end of my leg towards my hip, holding me in place. With the other he spread the white snow into an even line that he sniffed all the way to the beginning of my skirt. He lifted his head, turned his nose up a little and gave a dull laugh, his hand lightly pressing on my thigh. "Fuck," his eyes so satisfied and yet so hungry, "this is the best surface I've ever drawn a line on, man." 

It's only now that I realize that he's thrown me so off guard that I've forgotten have to breathe. It's hard to survive the way we make each other suffer. With the silent conscience of wanting the other more than anything else, but not taking them and maintaining the constant tension until someone breaks in and then teasingly dominates them. That's how it's been since we first met. 

We played a few more rounds, I took my thigh down from his, but he kept his hand there the whole evening because he noticed how the others were looking at me. What disgusting expressions they had on their faces that Rafe was so full of anger that he was fighting hard with himself not to start an argument or even a real fight. It certainly wasn't easy for him, so I squeezed his hand gently. 

After all, we just sold the last bag. Rafe had already gotten the rest out of the car while I was still on the dance floor. He had never made such a big profit. 

"That's it," he announced, waving his hand, and made sure they cleared their seats and he stowed away all the wads of money neatly. He gave me some because he couldn't carry it all, but we wouldn't divide it all up until later. I nodded in agreement that we had everything and could finally leave. Without being asked, he grabbed my hand and carefully pulled me down the stairs behind him, through the commotion - which seemed to be much more so - towards his car.

 It was a little difficult to understand what was going on inside me. How needy everything made me feel, but as we stand at the car door, I feel it on my back and Rafe lingers in front of me, I see the same look on his face. He's so close to mine ... that I can feel his ragged breathing against my lips. His wide eyes as a result of the drug he had taken, his lips being so wet and how slightly sweaty he looks. 

"I don't know how much longer I can do this," he breathes impatiently, taking a step closer to me and resting his arm next to my head as he lets one of my curls slide between his fingers. 

"Rafe..." I say quietly, whereupon he comes even closer, so that our hips touch and his lips slide past my ear and he lets his head linger in the crook of my neck. How his warm breath feels on my neck, how much we want to drive each other crazy because neither wants to admit that they need the other in the most intimate way right now. 

I lean my head back a little, press my lips together in tension and let my index finger play with the waistband of his top. I tentatively lift it slightly, run my finger under it to glide higher, feel his abdominal muscles so defined that he himself is breathing so frantically. 

If only it weren't for his own reaction. The way his head snapped towards me, his open lips and the pleading expression on his face, the strained rise and fall of his chest. Now I have everything in my hands and he knows exactly how much I like it. How much he himself strives for it. 

I add my middle finger to my index finger, apply a little pressure and then run my thumb over the middle of his abdominal muscles down to the waistband of his pants. Then I return his waiting look and jam my two fingers into the waistband of his boxer shorts, trace the edge and feel his scattered veins at the beginning of his V-zone. The fact that the pulsation between my legs is so much harder than my own heartbeat is so arousing. 

Rafe's gaze is unmistakable, his eyes stare longingly into mine and he places his hands on my hips. He caresses my soft skin, sliding higher and higher under my top and pulling me so close to him that I can feel not only his grin on my cheek, but also how hard he is because of me. 

How impatient ...

"We," I gasp, then lick my lips before continuing, "shouldn't be doing this, Rafe."

"Hm?" he murmurs, his wet lips so close to my own. "Fuck, Emma, this is the best thing that could ever happen to me - you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." 

There's nothing left in me to bring me to my senses now. There's nothing left that makes me want to sit down again. Nothing that tells me we shouldn't give each other what we so desire: ourselves. 

I take a short, sharp breath. "Get in your fucking Range Rover. Now," I command him commandingly, a sparkling look on my face. A sigh of pleasure escapes his lips in understanding before he climbs into the back of his car rather than the front. After me, he presses the button on the car key to lock it. Then he carelessly throws it forward onto the seat and I know that he doesn't really give a shit if anyone sees or hears us. 

He even wants it so everyone knows what he's doing with the Pogue Princess, who gives him so much that he's that much closer to death without her presence. This sick obsession in his gaze, with which he looks at me and doesn't mince his words, the way his eyes stay on my bust. He knows I'm not wearing anything under the top and it drives him crazy. 

I throw my boots forward and he does the same with his sneakers. Then Rafe doesn't even give me a choice and takes off his shirt himself, which he simply drops carelessly. I rub my nose lightly at the minimal tension and sight unfolding before me. How his now naked upper body moves through his hectic breathing, his trained arms supported on the door and the seat. 

"Come here, Emma," he says in a planned manner, "I want you to take all of me." 

And with that I got confirmation of my dirty thoughts that he's fucking big. With such a heated feeling in my chest and on my skin, I close the distance between us and find myself roughly between his legs. My fingers run up his leg to his lower abs. How sensitive he is to my touch. But he pulls me onto his lap with his strong arms, presses me against him in such an intimate way that I don't know what reaction should appear on my face first. 

"Stop fucking my mind, you do that even when you're not around," he grumbles, his hands firmly on my waist again and all I can feel is the tingle of his hot breath on my lips leaves. And as he glides higher and higher, being gentle and yet slightly impatient, he kisses me first. It's indescribable how hot and wet he is. Demanding it so unconditionally that it opens an abyss into which we seem to fall. 

"When you got into my car today, with that fuckin' outfit, all I could think about was how to take it off," he gasps slightly because I was cheeky and started kissing his neck, "What you'll feel like in my hands, how you taste, and I want everyone to know you're mine."

 I grin crookedly against his neck, running my tongue over his warm skin, which I'd like to tuck under mine forever would feel. When his hands reach my breasts, I mumble a "fuck" before looking at him, and I think he can read what I'm feeling better than I can. 

"You're safe with me, Emma. I'll take care of you." Then he pulls the silver top off me, carelessly dropping it because all his attention is focused solely on me. How experienced his hands treat me, so conscious in their actions and so adoring. He hums slightly and I kiss him slightly hastily, so that he seems completely taken by surprise and even more excited than before. 

"You're getting more beautiful every second, you know that?," he whispers, but stops as soon as my hands are on his belt and I pull his pants off. He does the same with my thin skirt, looking completely engrossed and yet so focused when our lips meet again. This music that blasts out here, but all I can hear is our hearts beating in parallel and that Rafe feels so much closer to me than he is. So unknowably deep within my own being. 

After that it's all so pale with intensity and need, how foggy the car windows are and how Rafe braces himself against it as he watches me take him inside. Everything, with the echo of his rough voice. And the handprint he leaves behind because he doesn't know what to do with the feeling of being completely immersed in me. 

"Shit, I knew you could take it all." His voice is more like a pleading whine than a surprised groan. "Feels so good - you." 

"Yeah?" I tease him, my hands for support even on the fogged-up window, until he wraps his arms around me and buries his head in the crook of my neck. 

"Fuck me," he orders and I feel him twitch inside me. And because we're both so tall, it probably wouldn't be possible in every car. Only Rafe's seems to be made for this, there's so much space just for us. 

"Yeah, you want what?," I counter cheekily and move my hips slightly, but stop and his lost gaze is on me, hard. He kisses me with a passion that almost makes me die and I want to merge with him forever. 

"You. I need you," he says firmly, and I give him the hottest response to his kiss while simultaneously moving in a way that hurts like heaven. I don't think about what would make Rafe feel good, but act a little selfishly and use him for my own pleasure. So slowly and then accelerated as I move around him and on him. How it causes me to clench around him and he twitches, whimpering and moaning my name. 

"Hmmh, like that," he murmurs, his hands all over me and his lips, like biting the sensitive skin of my neck before leaning his head against the window. 

"Go on," he encourages me, staring at me the whole time and I can see how he feels. That he's getting harder with every second and yet he's on the verge of coming. That he doesn't know if he's ever felt better or just never been loved like I did. That there is no one who shares his style like that. This obsessive jealousy, the possessive and this immenseness. At that moment he feels all over his body that we are the same. Soul Mates. 

"More," he urges, more needing, more impatient, and I feel so much at once. But especially how everything tightens around his cock and the flexing is so much better, so much tighter.

It doesn't take very long for him to come and I can't get over the fact of how it felt. So incredibly good that I want more of it. Rafe still holds me so tight and I know he's not going to let me go after today. How I will smell of him, how it smells here in the car and how hard I'm turned on cause of the fogged windows. 

I gasp lightly against his lips and motion for him to get up as he fixes his eyes on me with a grin and brushes a strand of hair from my slightly sweaty forehead. "We're not finished here yet. I didn't even start with you," he murmurs, wrinkling his nose slightly before knocking me over, always inside me, making me almost moan hard from the change of position. Fuck.

"I want you to look at me. The whole time, alright?," he gasps in my ear, and I bite my lower lip lightly because he's getting me so wet he has to feel it. And I look straight into his fucking intimate eyes, whose blue is much more drowning than any ocean. Then he starts to move, so damn fast and energetic that it seems rather erratic and I realize it takes three to four rounds for him.
Rafe isn't just able to do it, he needs it.

And if he didn't press my hands into the leather seats, it would be unbearable with perfection, as he reads in my facial expression when he has found my G-spot and then never missed it. A stifled groan escapes my lips far too often, making it that much hotter and my ears pounding with the whole beat of the party as Rafe hits every fucking beat of it. A song that doesn't even pause for two seconds in between. But most of all, I wonder if I can see the stars shining through the pane or if they are so damn bright in my mind's eye.

His voice so rough. "Fuck, do you see what perfect stars we can create together?"

Shit, yes, I can even feel them in my stomach ...

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝗧𝗼 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗮'𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗥𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝗯𝘆 𝗼𝗱𝗲𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶.