by Jax Hart
“Here, I’ll take him.” The leash slid from my hands as he took over and walked Rufus out. I was completely forgotten as the two of them went ahead without me. Maybe I was wrong to judge Rafael so harshly. He’d probably give some poor, lonely dog the world and all the love in his heart that, so far, no woman has won.
We played in the doggie park for an hour, then took Rufus to the doggie day spa so he could swim. Rafael was so into the dog I almost felt forgotten. But I should’ve known what he was doing…making himself irresistible by being human, kind, and dare I say, fun?
“What are you doing tonight? Working?” He turned his dark eyes on me, trapping me.
“No. Saturday nights I’m off. I usually work on my music or check to see which live bands are playing in SOHO.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“That wasn’t an invitation.”
“But I’m fun, right? Admit you had fun with me today.”
I crossed my arms and checked my cheap watch. “We need to get Rufus dried off and back home.” I walked away, listening to his low laugh. He was winning our war and he knew it. But my stubborn ass wasn’t going to wave the white flag. I was determined to fight our attraction and walk away from him unscathed. Without even one small scratch in my heart. How I was going to accomplish that; even I hadn't figured out yet.
Rafael checked some texts on his phone and then his focus was back on me. “Have dinner with me tonight? I know I was kind of a prick yesterday. I had shit on my mind. But I really like you and I think you like me. I’m not seeing anyone at the moment…”
“So?”
“Damn, you’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“No, and no—I’m not into you. I’m not interested in a date or anything else.”
He shrugged, “You're still stuck with me for another hour. There’s time to change your mind.”
I called Rufus over, clapped my hands on my thighs, and made sure the dog was swimming over to me and then turned to him. “What is your deal? Aren’t there dozens of ditzy women just dying to spend time with you?”
“There are. But I want… YOU.”
“Too bad. I’m off the market.”
“You have a boyfriend? Who is he?” His voice hardened and his jaw clenched.
“I’m… I don’t have anyone,” I whispered, “and I prefer it that way.”
“Bullshit. No one likes to be alone.”
“You do.”
“I thought I did. But then I met you.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. He was really laying it on thick, “I might not know your story, but I’ve got your number.”
“No, sweetheart. I’ve got yours.”
The more we walked, the crankier I felt. The ASPCA closed early and we didn’t make it. He was thrilled. Insisting I had to help next weekend now. He was a constant thorn in my side. His presence not letting me relax for a second. He walked me home and insisted on coming inside to make sure “it was safe.” What a joke that was since he was the most dangerous thing to ever walk inside.
I opened up my fridge and took out two bottles of ice-cold water, handing him one. We both drank quickly. My tiny apartment was stifling. The hot air was trapped within the old walls of the building. I ran my hand across my wet lips and put the mostly empty bottle down.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
He grabbed my hand and yanked me to him. I was trapped between his hard body and the small kitchen window.
I knew this moment was inevitable. He made sure it would be. But I would be damned if I let him have an inch of control. It was time to turn the tables and spin him off his axis.
I yanked hard on our interlocked hands, pressed my free palm flat across his pecs and felt his heart pick up speed. I raised up on my toes and pressed my full lips onto his.
He stood still.
And my lips smirked on his.
Gotcha at your own game, you jerk. I had thought.
Until he took control.
And just like that, the tables turned on me and I lost what little semblance of an upper hand I had.
He spun us around, found a wall and pressed me up against it. My hands were pinned above my head. His knee nudged mine apart. His lips sucked and nibbled. Coaxed and pleaded.
Then he took.
His tongue moved in, strong and sure. Parried with mine. I groaned, feeling heat uncurl inside me and spread low.
I wanted him.
Or, maybe I didn’t.
Maybe I just needed a good, hard fuck by a man that knows what he’s doing.
Either way, I still had enough sense to know I couldn’t go there with Rafael. On paper, he’s everything I despise: rich as fuck, born into his billions, arrogant and a womanizer. I fell for all of those things once, not long after I moved to New York. The bitter pain of it still lingers. I know better than to be played by another billionaire in New York.
I jerked my head to the side and panted. His mouth slid to the side of my neck and stayed there where he nibbled and nipped my skin.
I fought against his hands that still kept mine imprisoned. “Let go.”
“Never,” he growled.
“I’m not your type and you certainly aren’t mine.”
His mouth stopped its sweet torment for a second. “I was aching for you all last night, Selina. Fuck, being with you is all I can think about. I can’t believe this intense attraction is one-sided. Just say it. Say you feel it too.” He raised his head, finally letting go of my hands, but his body kept me pressed against the wall. His index finger traced over my lower lip as he gazed deeply into my eyes. His eyes glittered as he stared at me, “Ever since you crashed into me… I can’t stop thinking about this.” He stroked the side of my face. “I need to know where this goes.”
“That’s simple. Nowhere.”
He shook his head. “Why are you so stubborn?”
“I’m not stubborn. I’m just not stupid. Leave. Now”
I ducked under his arm, needing to put some space between us. He just stared at me in a predatory way. Like he was an alpha who wanted to piss all around me. I was stunned by his confession.
“I’ll break you yet… your lips say no but your body is screaming yes.”
“Ugh!” My hands slid through my frizzy hair and fingered the ends. “Just leave me alone! There’s nothing here that hasn’t already been played out. This is nothing new! Rich, playboy billionaire meets girl down and out on her luck!” I broke off, laughing out loud. “My life isn’t going to be some cliché… some fairytale Hollywood movie, okay? Just, please, let whatever this is, go.”
He stared hard for a few seconds, then blew out a long breath. “It’s hot as hell in here. Pack an overnight bag, you can stay in my guest bedroom. We can get takeout and watch Netflix. Hell, I’ll do whatever you feel like. Just come with me?”
I wanted to.
God, I was so tempted, as the humid air made it hard to breathe. But I couldn’t because I knew damn well, we wouldn’t watch Netflix and I wouldn’t be sleeping in his guest room. A hot-blooded woman can only hold out for so long. Especially against a man in his prime exuding sex, like him.
I needed him to leave before I caved and did something stupid like kiss him again.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
“So be it, Selina. I won’t beg. In fact, I’m not going to waste another thought on you. There’s plenty of women who will line up to suck my cock tonight. Maybe I’ll see your face when I come down their throats or maybe I won’t. Honestly, I don't give a fuck anymore. It’s no wonder you can sleep in this furnace, when you obviously have a block of ice everywhere especially between your legs. I bet it isn’t hot and wet, I bet it’s frigid as fuck in there.” He turned and slammed the door.
I winced.
His words stung.
But I got what I had wanted—him gone.
My apartment suddenly felt cold and empty when he left. My eyes found my forgotten coffee mug, half-filled from this morning
when he swept in and announced he was there for me.
I sank to the floor, feeling defeated. I could be going somewhere with him right now. Strolling down the sidewalk on his arm, on our way to get an early dinner or maybe getting to know one another some more. I could’ve spent my free time with a sexy man whose kiss enflamed me and eyes devoured me. But the thought that haunted me the most was, what if he was being sincere? What if Mr. Hashtag honestly wanted to find out if he could be my Mr. Right?
Instead, I was alone. I had gotten what I had wanted but felt like I had lost something that might have been special. If only I had let my walls down and taken a chance.
Why? Why couldn’t I just let myself go for once? I wish I could be more like Christine and just have fun flirtations. But I couldn’t. I was too stuck in my own fears, my own prejudices, and got comfortable there.
On my knees, I crawled to the window and rested my chin on the ledge. My eyes found him and followed Rafael until he disappeared from sight.
He never looked back.
Not once.
CHAPTER SIX
She fired me up. There was no denying it.
I burned for the girl. She made me want simple things again. To laugh, have fun, loosen up.
Ever since I got promoted to CEO, I’ve had a stick up my ass. Ever since I was the lead story on every tabloid last year, I’ve reined in the wild part of me. Perhaps, too much.
There were two sides to me. A wild, dark one that wanted to rule her. Be her master and have her on her knees, wanting to do anything to please me. While the other side of me wanted to cherish her, dress her in designer clothes or, better yet, nothing but my silk sheets and let her life seep into mine until we blend and bleed together.
Fuck.
I needed to regain control. Because right now, I’m spiraling and when I land, it won’t be anywhere good. My mom and nana used to be my anchors but, with them gone, it’s easier to fall into the black pit of pain and pleasure Johnny introduced me to when we were teens. I lost my virginity in the dressing room of his uncle’s mob run DOM/sub club. One woman sat on my face, another on my dick. I took them all, any way a man can. I was a horny fucking kid who could go all night. And the joint was an all you can eat pussy buffet. I learned everything there was to learn, and more.
The women trained me; taught me every way a man could pleasure a woman. I’m a fucking god of a lover, reducing women to putty. I feed off the control and power I feel when they look at me with such devotion, such desire. Part of me needs it, craves the love and devotion the boy in me still needs.
My father really fucked me up. I thought I could change. I tried to love Tish and be some fucking golden boy. But the truth is underneath all my layers is a darkness. I hid it from the world, only a few in my inner circle knew it existed.
Roque, Johnny and I often played together. Shared women, blindfolded them, made them wonder just which one of our cocks moved between their lips.
My dick started to swell remembering the last time I played like that.
But with Selina, something about that girl made me want more than just dark sex games. She crushed me more than she’d ever know. I was willing to try starting something normal with her. Instead I’ll just fall back on what had always worked—the dark pit of filthy seduction where women looked at me as if I’m their entire world.
All I could think in that moment was: What I wouldn’t give to see that look on Selina’s face. To see the love and devotion in her eyes? Would I play my dark game with her or should I just let her go and find a woman more suited?
My thoughts were interrupted by my cell. It was my publicist reminding me I was on the list for some charity gala at the MET tonight.
Getting good press has helped me overcome my Mr. Hashtag nickname and kept my father off my back. I shrugged. I had nothing better to do since Selina refused my company for the evening. An evil grin lit up my face as I texted my publicist back that: 1. I’d go and 2. Could she get me Talia Black to go as my date?
Talia Black was Sports Illustrated's latest swimsuit edition cover model and the most sought-after model in the city. It might be hard to get her to go with me being it was so last minute, but she had offered to blow me in a pool house in the Hamptons over Memorial Day Weekend. She was a sloppy drunk and did nothing for me. But I heard from mutual friends, her crush on me still lingered. I had no doubt she’d ditch any other guy in Manhattan for another chance at me. I also knew that the two of us out on the town would be all over the press and it would make Selina feel something I was sure of it. She’d see nothing but red and maybe the seeds of jealousy would be planted and grow. I knew I’d be hard as fuck later, picturing the fury rolling off Selina when she sees the pictures of me and Talia online.
I was in a foul mood the rest of the day. Christine never came back, and I became worried. My anxiety only grew when she finally texted me about who she was with- Johnny Lamatti. I shook my head in disbelief. She had banged the millionaire mobster and not only enjoyed it but planned to do it all weekend. What was wrong with that girl? She’s taking her online stalking to a whole new level. I knew she had a “thing” for the bad boy mobster but never thought she’d actually hunt him down and do him.
Our fridge was bare; our cupboards were even worse. The smell of Rafael’s cologne clung to my skin. Some depraved part of me was reluctant to shower it off. I needed to escape Raphael’s lingering presence. I walked for an hour, browsed through a few stores and finally turned back toward my building.
I keyed into the lobby and climbed the worn stairs, stopping short. My hand immediately reached inside my purse and wrapped around the pepper spray.
“Good evening, Ms. De La Cruz. Mr. Lamatti sent me. Your apartment will be under our protection from now on.”
He was stocky and wore a suit. He screamed mobster.
“I don’t think so. Tell Mr. Lamatti we’re fine. And, since she’s not here—I don’t need his protection. Please leave.”
“I can’t disobey direct orders from the top. Get used to me, babe. I’m staying put until my shift’s over.”
I poked my index finger into his pec and stalked forward, trying to get him to move out of my way. But the man was built like a brick wall and wouldn’t budge.
He started to flex, and I shook my head, moving past him to key-in. I dropped my bag on the couch and checked my phone. There was nothing. No texts or missed calls. One of the “Real Housewives” was caught out in the Hamptons making out with some random guy and that was all over ‘Page Six’ now instead of me. Yesterday’s “new girl” was now today’s nobody.
I sighed, turned on Netflix and told myself my life was just fine. So, what if I spent Saturday night alone, with leftover take out and my TV, while some friggin’ mobster stands outside?
But, as the night crept on, I knew I was meant for more. I paced, feeling trapped. I looked out my peephole a few times and he was still there. It made me feel weird. I didn’t like it at all. The greatest city in the world was literally right outside my window and I was missing out on it. Missing out on life. So, I got dressed, opened up my window, reached up high for the rickety fire escape ladder and tugged it down. Let the stupid goon at my door think I was still inside. He’d be protecting an empty apartment.
I walked the streets until I found a coffee shop having an open mic/karaoke night. I sat in the back until I couldn't take it anymore. I left my place in the corner and added my name to the sign-up list. When it was finally my turn, I asked if I could use the electronic keyboard from another performer. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and let the notes fly from my soul and weave through the thinning crowd.
I chose to sing about New York. How it made me feel; how I still believed I could make it here, despite how far away that reality seemed. The lyrics to “Empire State of Mind” came from my heart—from the very depths of my soul and floated through the room and out the open windows. I hoped the city heard me and, someday soon, I’d make it here, too.
Thund
erous applause erupted as the last note faded and I blushed, bowed my head and kept going. I played about ten songs, felt the rush of happiness coarse through me, replacing the tangled web of emotions that had been in my gut ever since I met Raphael.
But I should’ve known my peace was fleeting. After shaking a few hands and swapping numbers with a few artists and musicians, I headed out into the bright lights, feeling as if I could conquer anything.
Then I checked my phone.
A few of my friends had tagged social media in articles and pictures showing Rafael out at a gala right now with Talia Black. I guess I was out, and she was in.
He was holding her close. His hand was in her hair, his lips on her neck. The same way he had held and touched me hours earlier.
“I KNEW IT!” I growled, gripping my phone hard. He was the dirty playboy I thought he was, and when it became apparent, I wouldn’t sleep with him tonight, he found someone who would. Someone famous. Blonde. Skinny. The exact opposite of me.
I came back down from my high, angrier than ever. I knew better and yet… part of me really believed him when he said he was interested in me. What a load of shit. The only thing he was interested in was what’s between my legs and I needed to always remember that and not let my guard down again.
Besides, I was sure he’d be too busy with Talia to even give me a second thought.
I should’ve known better.
After I had climbed back up my fire escape and climbed through my window, he texted:
This could have been you.
Attached under that was a selfie he took of them canoodling in the back of a car. Her silicone injected lips were attached to the side of his neck and her arms were hooked around him possessively.
I knew he wanted a reaction from me, and it took everything I had not to give him that satisfaction. Instead, I deleted his text and took another shower. Christine was still gone. Johnny Lamatti was either holding her captive with his goons or holding her captive with some mystical monster dick attached to his body. Either way, I spent another night all alone.