by Diana W.
She’d run into the massage therapist assigned to the room and when confronted disclosed that she was paid by the client’s husband to make herself scarce.
“Ma’am, I’m simply surprising my wife.” Cornell had turned on the professionalism in his voice while Harley stood there, unable to back his bullshit story up. She still hadn’t come to terms with everything that had occurred.
“And while I understand that, our company has strict policies, one that I will not be responsible for breaking. Please leave or I’ll be forced to call security.”
Not willing to create a bigger scene than the one he’d created with Harley, Cornell decided to leave. He nodded his head at the lady to show that he understood and would comply. He then went to Harley’s ear as if he was about to plant a loving kiss on her cheek.
“Room 66.”
His eyes begged of hers before he walked away.
CHAPTER 22
Harley had barely dressed before she high-tailed it from the spa back up to her room. With her back against the door, she clamped her hands over her face to try and catch her breath and hopefully get her thoughts caught up with her actions.
“Get your shit together.’’ She dragged her knuckles down her cheeks and exhaled slowly.
This was not how this weekend was supposed to go. She was supposed to soak up a little sun, sip some exotic cocktails, and indulge in an endless supply of new dick. She wanted the super freaky version, and somehow, drama managed to follow her there, wearing a burgundy t-shirt and khaki shorts, kissing her as passionately as he did the first time their lips touched. Harley rushed toward the alcohol display sitting on the bar in the corner of the room and poured enough vodka to hopefully erase her body’s memory of him. She knocked the drink back and cringed at the sting it delivered.
“It’s just another game.” She plopped down onto the stiff blue loveseat. “He’s just gonna do me worse than before. It’s what he does.” She suddenly recalled her initial argument with Gianna. She had given her so much shit for thinking she had something special with Cornell and now it all made sense.
Harley allowed the vodka to work its magic and slouched further into the uncomfortable cushions. This wasn’t the best time for Gianna’s voice to be in her head, but she could hear her as clear as day, scolding her about her lifestyle choices, and each word was a gut punch. Harley could blame Cornell for his malicious ways, but it was her own fault that she was in this situation. She didn’t regret getting revenge for Gianna, but she should’ve just found some ain’t-shit dudes from their old neighborhood to kick Cornell’s ass and leave him bruised and bloodied, eye-for-an-eye style. It would’ve spared her the chaos of the Gaines family and whatever emotional warfare Cornell was waging on her.
Harley got up and went to her suitcase. Tucked neatly in the right corner of it was the black lace garter set she snuck out and bought. She grabbed it then held it up. It was an impulsive purchase since she had no idea if Justin was even a lingerie type of guy. All she knew at that moment was that she needed to keep her focus on him and only him. There was the tiniest part of her that believed she could disclose to him how their lives intersected, and he could find a way to get past it, but deep down she knew better.
She discarded her clothes and slipped on the black lace ensemble. She released her hair from the messy ponytail she threw it in for the spa and went to the large mirror in the corner of the bedroom. She twisted and turned to observe her body, and her lips twisted into a mischievous smirk. Justin had no idea what kind of fun she had in store for him, but he’d know soon enough. She figured the right picture in her new thirst trap could speed his meeting up. She went for her phone on the sofa and realized he’d already sent her message. Her eagerness deflated when it said that he had an unexpected snag in negotiations with his business associates and wasn’t sure what time he’d be back. He sent a follow-up text with more apologies and kissy face emojis, but Harley tossed the phone back onto the sofa without bothering to reply.
She poured another glass of vodka and found herself staring at the wall while she sipped it slowly this time around. She sniffled and that’s when she realized the wetness on her cheeks. She quickly wiped them off as if someone would see her and placed the glass back on the counter. She understood that they were there for his business and that the blooming thing between them was based on deception, but that didn’t diminish that she was standing there half-naked and in her feelings.
She wanted to scream. Break something. Throw something. Anything that could stifle whatever wave of emotion was trying to drown her. It didn’t make sense.
She walked to the edge of the bed and sat on it. Another pull in her chest was urging her to cry again but she refused. The shit was starting to happen too frequently for her liking, and when she thought about it, she’d only gotten that way since she crossed paths with...him.
She closed her eyes and wished she could purge the lingering traces of Cornell from her system. He was a drug in every sense of the word. Hella addictive. Hella toxic. The one you convinced yourself you didn’t need until it was offered to you. Despite the crash you knew accompanied it, you still clutched onto the memory of its euphoria, the high that made you float. It made you forget that the feeling would only be temporary. Every cell in her body had been on alert since he confronted her. Even when he wasn’t around, his energy was haunting her, and now it was smothering her to the point of tears.
Harley let her back hit the bed and her eyes were up at the ceiling fan again. She could feel her willpower deteriorating, and she hated herself for it, hated that despite having the right option at her feet, she was slowly yielding to chaos. She closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath before she was back on her feet, sliding one of the two complimentary robes over her body and placing her stocking-covered toes, back into her slippers. She grabbed her phone and room key and opted for the stairs since she was only going up two floors.
Facing the cream-colored door, Harley held her fist up but froze. It was either nerves or second-guessing actions, but she shook it off and gently knocked. When the door opened, she was face-to-face with Cornell, and they stood there, quietly assessing each other.
“I don’t know why I’m here.”
The statement was honest and presented with a brave face despite Harley barely holding it together under his gaze. He didn't say a word and instead opened the door wider for her to enter.
She walked into the suite, placing her things on the small accent table near the entrance. She immediately noticed how much bigger it was compared to her and Justin’s. Not that she was surprised. Cornell didn’t shy away from his wealth. She and Justin had flown first class and rented a car when they landed, and she was certain Cornell flew on a private jet and more than likely hired a driver. Harley stopped just shy of the large balcony door and stared out at the sunset. Even his view of the ocean was grandiose.
Cornell joined her, standing an unsafe distance away. “You like the view?”
“I do.” Harley tried to keep her focus on the ocean rather than how intoxicating his cologne was.
“Me too,” Cornell’s lips tightened. He still wasn’t sure what else to say, but at least she was there of her own free will. He’d paced every inch of the room after he left the spa, unsure if his declaration would yield the desired results.
They were silent as they watched the waves crash onto the shore.
“Why did you ask me to come here?” Harley finally felt calm enough to ask.
Cornell’s jaw tensed. Most of his reasons were selfish, but he could live with all of them if he knew that he and Harley were on the same page. “So I could understand.”
“Understand what?”
“Why I don’t want you to show interest in any man but me.”
Harley snorted. “That’s easy. It’s called selfishness.”
“Call it whatever you’d like.” He inched closer and fingered a strand of her. It pleased yet infuriated him how sexy she looked because he could guess
that her presentation wasn’t meant for him.
“And how do you think I should feel about you especially after the way you’ve treated me?” She folded her arms over her chest as a rebellious display against the goosebumps on her arms.
“I know it wasn’t my best. I can admit that.”
“So why’d you do it?”
“Harley… you have to bear with me. This is all foreign territory.”
“What is?” Her voice elevated. “Women?” She hoped this wasn’t the hill he was dying on. “If I didn’t believe the tabloids, I sure as hell believe my own two eyes to know just how unforeign you are with them. Don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m not.” Cornell ran a hand over his hair. “It’s different with you.”
“Oh, is it?” She angled her head, already dreading the direction this conversation was going. She’d heard it enough to know when she was being jerked around. “Let me guess. I’m special?”
“Actually,” he narrowed in on her eyes, “you are.” Cornell noticed the confidence fall from her gaze. “You don’t believe me?”
Harley swallowed her flippant response and instead focused on taming the unruly butterflies in her belly. “I don’t know what I believe.” She stepped away from him, needing some space to breathe.
“It’s fine not to believe me. I haven’t earned your trust. But believe in what you feel whenever we’re around each other.” He followed behind her. He was now so close that she could feel the heat radiating from his skin. The warmth of his words was like a gentle breeze on her neck. “Whatever this is between us, it’s strong and I know you feel it too.”
Harley wanted to call him a liar. Tell him that she didn’t feel a damn thing but animosity whenever he was around. Call him a heartless asshole for bringing harm to her sister and slap him for putting her in the middle of his family’s fuckery. But the gnawing in her chest was screaming a different truth.
“This would never work. Hell,” she scoffed, "we don’t even know what this is outside of the one time we had sex. And you’re skimming over our history like it’s not fucked up. Like how we met wasn’t absurd and unconventional.”
“You’re making excuses,” he pressed. “I don’t give a fuck how we met. I want you and that’s where I stand with this.”
“This isn’t an excuse. I’m stating the obvious. I can’t even trust that you won’t turn around and...and hurt me again.” It felt crazy to hear herself say it out loud, but she now knew the source of the pain in her chest.
Cornell heard the shakiness in her voice and realized just how much damage his actions had caused. “Harley...I won’t.” He nestled his nose in her hair and closed his eyes. She smelled of the beach and the sweetest oil, a combination he wished he could bottle, just to be able to inhale whenever he needed a pick-me-up. Fuck coffee.
Harley’s shoulders exhaled at his promise. It wasn’t backed by countless begging on a bended knee, but it soothed her just the same. She didn’t wait for him to make the first move this time. She turned around, lifted up on her toes, and slid her hands to each side of his face. His beard was just as manicured as the day she met him. Perfect just like his timing. Like his words. She wondered if he’d felt her drowning in her thoughts of him? If he was there to rescue her? To be her prince in the dysfunctional and exhaustingly dramatic fairytale that she didn’t believe in? For the first time in her life, she hoped so.
She kissed his top lip, then the bottom, and wondered if her gentleness was alarming him. Everything between them was always to the max, but she needed tenderness right now. She needed to know if he was capable of it.
She kissed her way from his jawline down to his neck and moved her hands under his t-shirt. Her fingers ran across the ridges of his abs, feeling them constrict whenever she drifted too close to his waist. Wanting more, she teased her finger back and forth at the top of his boxer-briefs.
“Touch me.” She kissed him again.
Cornell reached between them and untied the belt of her robe. He slid the garment from her shoulders, and when it hit the floor, his knees weakened. Black lace clung to her body like a work of art waiting to be studied and admired, but her hardened nipples begged for more than just observation. He brushed his thumb over one through the sheer material and felt Harley shudder.
“Don’t stop,” she begged before inviting herself back into his mouth. Cornell devoured her gasps as he freed her breasts from the constraints of her bra. He palmed them in slow circles, trapping her nipples between his fingers. Her face twisted from pleasure and her hands wrangled his zipper until she was able to pull both his pants and briefs down far enough to free him. She held his dick in her hands with the familiarity of a long-lost lover and stroked him with a precise determination.
“Shit,” Cornell groaned and dropped his head back.
He let her have her way with him until he was on the brink of insanity and then picked her up by the exposed cheeks, courtesy of her g-string. He wrapped her thick thighs around his waist and carried her to the dining room table, kicking a chair out the way so he could place her down on her back. He lowered her without a break in their kisses and ran his fingers down her legs until he reached the soft material of her black stockings.
“I want you in this every time I see you,” he mumbled as he nibbled on her bottom lip.
Harley could barely contain her smile. “I don’t think this goes with my daily wardrobe.”
“I can make it go.” Cornell mischievously grinned, still stroking the nylon. “Buy you one in every color. Only dresses or skirts from here on out, though, or nothing at all.”
Harley’s eyes grew even heavier with the thought of pleasing him. “Show me it’s worth it and I may be open to negotiations.”
Up for the challenge, Cornell slid her thin panties to the side and used his thumb to rub her clit in a slow but deliberate rhythm. “You forget what I do for a living. I negotiate to win.”
Harley rolled her hips against the digit, no longer able to offer him a verbal response. He wasn’t playing fair. And just when she thought he would give her a moment of relief, he hooked his finger inside of her.
“Cornell,” Harley hissed, overcome with the sensation building in her belly.
“Yes, Miss Dupree,” he retorted, letting his finger soak in her wetness. She was fucking it as if it was her job, and he didn’t want to stop her enjoyment, but he wanted her too badly to ignore his selfishness.
He removed his finger and coated the tip of his dick with her natural lubricant. With one of her legs hanging over his arm, he slid inside of her without warning and they both stilled, each reveling in their bodies’ re-introduction.
Cornell lowered his body to hers, and Harley looped her arms around his neck. They stared into each other’s eyes, saying and feeling everything at once.
“You promise you won’t hurt me?” Harley’s eyes watered involuntarily. She thought the timing of her waterworks was awful, but what she was feeling emotionally was too raw to keep contained.
Cornell touched his forehead to hers and kissed her. Hard. Deep. Hoping his actions could better convey the promise he had already made to her. He wanted her to feel safe with him. To be okay in his presence. Her role with Justin and any part of the acquisition was done. He’d let his father know that he no longer supported it and would deal with whatever blowback came from that. He needed to explore what he and Harley could be without influence or interference.
Harley tightened her thighs around him, urging him to move, and Cornell happily obliged in slow waves with Harley following his lead, eventually syncing with one another as one.
Harley held him close while singing the sounds of her satisfaction into his ear. It was a melody he could listen to every day. It felt right to his soul. This moment made everything feel as if life could be all right.
Cornell used his arms to hook her by her thighs and slid her to the edge of the table, moving in and out of her in an orchestrated mating dance.
Harley forced herself
up to her hands and began rolling the lower half of her body to show that she had no problem keeping up with his tempo. She suddenly took in a sharp inhale and her mouth hung open as an orgasm ripped through her like a violent wave, clenching his dick tighter.
“Fuck.” Cornell’s thrusts grew aggressive until he jerked and stilled before lowering his head from depletion.
Harley cupped his face, forcing his eyes upward. There was no awkwardness, no regret, just pure satisfaction. He kissed her, refusing to close his eyes. He needed to show her this wasn’t like before. He was here and would be for as long as she let him.
He picked her up and brought her over to the bed, placing her by a pillow.
“Hungry?” He kissed her shoulder, making a lazy smile appear on her face. A considerate Cornell was foreign to her, but she liked it.
“Very.” Harley was holding out to eat because of Justin, but since that wasn’t happening, she didn’t see a reason to keep waiting.
“I’ll order room service.”
“Ok.” Harley got up and went to the bathroom to handle her business. When she came back to the bedroom, Cornell was lying on top of the covers, shirtless, with his hands behind his head. She was going to take the spot next to him and mimic his position, but she opted to curl into him instead. He dropped one of his arms to hold her even closer, gliding his fingertips up and down her bare arm.
“The food will be up in about twenty.”
“Ok.” Harley closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his heartbeat.
“And I didn’t order you diet food.”
“Smart man,” she giggled, feeling herself growing tired the longer she laid there. It suddenly dawned on her that she couldn’t go to sleep. Oversleeping meant that she would have to explain her whereabouts to Justin, and she didn’t feel like coming up with some elaborate excuse.
“I can wake you when the food comes.” Cornell seemingly read her mind.
Harley looked up at him with uncertainty. “What do I do about... umm...”