by Whitney G.
He continued to torture me with his fingers, and my thoughts became hazy; I started to feel familiar tremors traveling up and down my body.
“Ohhhh, god...” I started shaking—convulsing, getting ready to let go. But he didn’t let me cum.
He flipped me right side up in seconds and looked into my eyes.
Holding the vibrator against my clit, he brought his face close to mine and whispered. “How would you like me to finish this?”
By fucking me...
“I can’t read your mind.” He lied, smiling. “How would you like me to finish this?”
“By fucking me...”
“With my mouth?”
“With your cock...Now, please.”
“I don’t think it would be special if we had sex right now...” He moved the vibrator away and my insides continued to throb in tortured pleasure. “It wouldn’t make us feel intimate...”
“Please...” I pleaded with my eyes and I could tell he was about to give in. I tried to push myself forward so I could kiss his lips, so I could convince him that I needed this, but he stepped back.
“After we’re married.” He kissed the tip of my nose and pulled his pants back up, leaving me panting and utterly lost. He freed my legs from the weights and slowly untied the rope from around my hands.
I fell into him and told him to take me back to my suite, but he lifted me up and laid me on the table, flat on my stomach. I didn’t even bother asking why. I was too frustrated.
I shut my eyes and vowed not to speak to him for a while, but I suddenly felt him placing warm stones down the center of my back. “Talk to me...” he whispered.
“About what? Sexual frustration?”
“If that’s what you want...”
I sighed. “Did my friends see you? Do they know that you’re here?”
“No.” He kneaded his hands against my sides. “They were way too drunk to pay attention to anything. I had Greg take them back to your villa so they wouldn’t pass out in that so-called club.”
“How thoughtful of you...”
He added a few more warm stones against my back. “Thank you.”
“What happened to your Vegas party? Was it that boring that you felt the need to come and ruin mine?”
“I didn’t ruin your party.” He kissed my hair. “I was having a pretty good time in Vegas, but I received a distractingly sexy ‘makeover’ picture from my fiancée while I was at a club.”
“I don’t remember typing ‘come crash my party’ at the bottom of it.”
“It was implied.” He pushed my new swooped bangs away from my face. “I didn’t want to wait until you came home to see you like this.”
“Really? Because I think it’s because you can’t go more than three days without touching me.”
“Four. I do have some restraint.”
I rolled my eyes and felt him removing the stones. “I’m never drinking that much again...I can’t even remember how many shots I had...Oh, and just so there are no secrets between us: I danced with a lot of men, tonight. And you know what? I loved it, just like Helen said I would...”
“Shhhh.” He sighed as he began pressing his hands into my back. “Be quiet, Claire.”
“No...You said you wanted me to talk.” I shut my eyes. “If you can crash my party and deny me sex, you can listen to—” I yawned. “You can let me tell you...” His hands felt too good to be true. “All about...”
Everything went black.
**
I woke up and realized I was in my suite. The sun was slowly rising outside my window and Jonathan was standing over me, fully dressed and fluffing my pillow. On the nightstand to my left he’d placed three bottles of orange juice, a bottle of Tylenol, and a note: “Enjoy the rest of your week in Costa Rica, Future Wife.”
“You’re leaving?” My throat was dry.
He nodded and kissed my forehead. “Your friends will be waking up soon. I’m sure you’ll want to rehash last night with them. Tell Helen to send me the receipt for the villa and anything she and your friends bought this week. I’ll reimburse whatever she spent.”
“Okay...Can you take a shower with me before you go?”
“Of course.” He smiled and slid his arms beneath me to pick me up. He carried me into the bathroom and quickly removed my slip.
As he placed me inside the shower and turned on the water, I thought about how I was going to seduce him and make him give me some damn sex.
He’d been right hours ago. The last few nights had been horrible. My body craved his body every night; it ached for his touch like it wouldn’t survive without it.
I can’t believe I asked him to be abstinent! What the hell was I thinking?!
He joined me underneath the steamy water and ran his fingers through my damp bangs. “I really love what they did to your hair. Are they doing it for our wedding?”
I nodded. “In exchange for throwing a party on one of your yachts this winter. I already told them they could.”
“What if I say no?”
“I’m a co-owner. It doesn’t matter what you say.”
He smiled and I didn’t bother wasting another second. I pressed my lips against his and kissed him deeply, using my hands to massage his cock.
Before he could tell me to stop, I bent down and took him into my mouth—moving him in and out until he was rock hard. I looked up at him as I slid my tongue around and he seemed surprised, but he pulled me up and kissed me.
As the water continued to fall over us, he kept his lips attached to mine and wrapped his arms around my waist.
I felt his cock pressing against my stomach and murmured, “Please...” but he continued his deep and passionate kiss. He rolled his tongue around mine and bit my bottom lip whenever I tried to pull away from him.
I was completely breathless when he released me and spun me around to face the wall. He gripped my hips and adjusted my stance—slowly tilting me forward for easy access. I moaned as he reached around and caressed my breasts, as he placed a wet kiss against the groove of my back.
“Are you sure you want this?” he whispered.
“Yes...”
He gripped my hips even tighter and pressed his cock against me. Then he slid his hand between my legs and groaned as he touched my swollen clit.
“I want to fuck you so badly, Claire...” he whispered. “You have no idea...Enjoy the rest of your trip.” He suddenly let me go and stepped out of the shower.
I gasped and braced the wall. “What?!”
More frustrated than ever, I turned the water off and wrapped myself in a towel. I walked back into my room and crossed my arms once I saw that he was putting his clothes back on.
“You’re leaving?”
He smirked and zipped up his pants.
“You’re not going to have sex with me?”
“Of course I am.” He walked over and kissed my cheek. “After we’re married.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but he pressed his finger against my lips. “I’ll pick you up from the airstrip the second you get back. I want to take you on a date after you settle back into your job.” He planted a kiss on my forehead. “I love you, Claire.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Say it back.”
“Make me...” I gave him my best seductive look.
He smiled and pulled me close. “Once I commit to doing something—whatever that something may be, I never back down from it. You can keep trying to tempt me—you’re very good by the way, but I made a promise and I never break my promises...Now, say it back.”
“I love you, too.”
He kissed me one last time and I watched him leave through my side door. He looked over his shoulder every few seconds and smiled at me, so I waited until he was no longer in my sight.
I immediately rushed over to my suitcase and searched for my vibrator so I could end this frustration myself. I pulled the flap open where I knew I’d placed it, but it wasn’t there. Instead, there was a folded napkin with a n
ote: “No cheating, Future Wife. You’ll get it back AFTER the wedding :-)”
I cursed under my breath and headed for the kitchen, where Bobbie Jo, Kim, and Helen were all staring at me with looks of horror on their faces.
“You brought someone home with you from the club last night? And don’t you dare lie because we all heard voices this morning.” Helen practically lost it. “That’s not like you at all, Claire! What the hell were you thinking?!”
“What? You think I cheated on Jonathan?”
“It doesn’t matter what we think.” Bobbie Jo stood up and paced the floor. “It’s okay. We can definitely fix this...I know we told you to let go, but you weren’t supposed to completely let go...You’re marrying Jonathan-fucking-Statham! You don’t need to experience any other man, ever!”
Helen shook her head in disagreement at that last line, but she kept the look of worry on her face.
“No more clubbing this week.” Kim clasped her hands together. “We’ll still drink tons, but we’ll stick to the lame activities we were doing before. We’ll even take you shopping for a whole new wardrobe today...Jonathan will never find out about this. Your secret is safe with us...”
Chapter 12
Claire
I sat in the middle of Starbucks, sporting a brand new tan and a light grey dress the girls had picked out for me on the last day of the trip. It was short with a deep V-neckline and it hugged all my curves perfectly.
It was the type of dress that Jonathan would love, at least I hoped he would when he saw me later tonight for our date.
He’d told me he wanted to take me somewhere special as soon as he picked me up from the airstrip the other day. He’d left little reminder notes in my closet, in my purse, even in my car: “Tonight will be the best date you and I have ever had.” “No...I’m not shutting down the Golden Gate Bridge again...but I can if you want me to.” “I’m looking forward to seeing you later. You are always the best part of my day.”
“Miss Gracen?” My client cleared her throat, snapping me out of my trance. “Is that all? Do I need to sign anything else?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll have my secretary forward you a copy of the contract tomorrow morning. Do you have any other questions for me, Miss Kane?”
“Not at all.” She stood up. “Thanks for treating me to coffee today. This was... different.”
I laughed and watched her walk out of the store.
Thanks to my employees—who had failed to shut off the air conditioning while I was gone, my store’s ventilation system had crashed and I’d had to reschedule all of today’s appointments outside of the office.
I looked through my planner to make sure I didn’t have any more meetings for the day, and suddenly heard my phone ringing. Ashley.
“Hello, Ashley.”
“This is Caroline.” She scoffed.
“You’re using Ashley’s phone, Caroline. How am I supposed to know it’s you?” I could practically see her shrugging her shoulders.
“Ashley and I would like to know why we weren’t invited to your bachelorette party. We are in the wedding, your maids of honor at that.”
“Because you can’t take off a week from school and my friends didn’t think it was appropriate for you two to come. And after going there, I’m completely sure they made the right choice.”
“Right...Anyway, I’m just calling to let you know that we got your email. We love it and we think Jonathan will love it too.”
“You didn’t tell him anything did you?”
“No...” She paused. “Although we are finding it a bit strange that we hear from him more than we hear from you these days.”
“What? That’s not true!”
“It is true. He calls or texts us every day.”
“And he sends us care packages every Monday!” Ashley yelled in the background.
“I’m sorry...” I realized that they were right. Lately I’d only been checking in on them once or twice a week, but I thought that was what they wanted. “I’ll do better. I promise. I’ll start calling you more often and—”
“No, no, no.” Caroline clucked her teeth. “Just send us some care packages. Actually, now that we’re on the subject of care packages... Jonathan gives us three hundred dollars a week in his boxes, in addition to a bunch of other nice gifts. Now, we both know you don’t make as much as he does, but we know you make enough to give us two hundred a week without breaking a sweat. So—”
I hung up and sent them both an ‘I love you’ text.
Laughing, I started to put my things away. I felt something brush against my table, and when I looked up I saw Ryan sitting in front of me with a smug expression on his face.
“Busy day, huh?” he asked. “You’ve met with lots of clients...”
“Fuck off.” I stood up to leave, but he grabbed my elbow. “Please, Claire. Two minutes...That’s it.”
I looked into his eyes—those familiar green and grey irises that I used to love, and saw a world full of pain. I wanted to walk away—knew I should’ve walked away, but the look in his eyes made me feel sorry for him.
“Two minutes. That’s it.”
“Thank you...” He waited for me to sit down and slid a cup of coffee towards me. “Does Jonathan Statham make you happy?”
“He doesn’t make me cry.” I said firmly. “I didn’t give you two minutes for a discussion.”
“You’re still incapable of small talk?”
“With my piece of shit ex-husband?”
He sighed. “Fair enough, Claire...I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past few weeks because...Amanda’s ill...”
“So?” I shrugged.
“So?”
“Yes. So. As in, what does that have to do with me?”
“It’s fatal, Claire.” It looked like it hurt him to say those words, and for a half second I felt bad for her—for both of them. “She wants to talk to you...”
What?! “Why?”
“Because you were her best friend...Her only friend...”
“We had other mutual friends. Why doesn’t she want to talk to them?”
“Is your head really stuck that far up your ass now?”
I stood up to leave again, but he grabbed my arm and cleared his throat. “Please, Claire. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that...” He looked as if he wanted me to sit back down, but I remained standing. “All of the mutual friends were on your side.”
“Really? I wonder why...”
“I’m not asking for you and her to watch chick flicks together and cry, and I’m not asking for you to be BFFs again. I’m just asking on behalf of my wife—”
“Your wife? I still can’t believe you can say that without a shred of guilt crossing over your face. It’s disgusting.”
“I’m just asking for you to see her. Maybe even grab some lunch together next week? It’s one of her dying wishes and I’m doing my best to fulfill all of them.”
“What?! Are you out of your mind?” I scoffed and left him sitting at the table. I couldn’t believe his nerve—to act as if I owed him or Amanda a damn thing, to have the audacity to even ask me to do anything for their benefit.
I stepped outside of the shop and opened my umbrella, walking over to my car in the pouring rain. As I unlocked the door, I felt strong hands on my shoulders—someone spinning me around.
“Spare me this stupid act and stop being so fucking childish, Claire.” Ryan stood underneath my umbrella and gripped my arms.
“Excuse me?” My eyes widened. He wasn’t behaving anything like the Ryan I knew years ago—that Ryan would never grab me like this.
“Ryan...I—”
“You owe me twenty seconds.” He hissed. “Twenty fucking seconds and I’m going to use every last one of them. You honestly think marrying a billionaire means you don’t have to care about anything? You think it makes you a better person now? It doesn’t.”
“I guess being a lying philanderer does though, huh? Get the hell off of me.” I raised
my knee up, fully intending to kick him in his balls, but he grabbed my leg and moved it around his waist, holding it stiffly.
“Seriously, Claire? Were you trying to do what I think you were trying to do?”
“Save the human race from more bastard offspring?”
“When did you become such a bitch?” His eyes darkened. “Are you still that bitter about what happened between us? Five years ago? You clearly came out alright.” He glanced at my engagement ring.
“Get your hands off of me, Ryan.”
He didn’t move back. Instead he tightened his grip on my arm and leg and spoke slowly. “Listen to me, Claire.”
I considered spitting in his face, but for some reason I couldn’t muster enough saliva in my mouth.
“Amanda and I moved here so we could commute back and forth to St. Francis.”
The hospital?
He nodded as if he’d heard my thought. “She’s been working at that catering shop part time to keep her mind off of her upcoming treatment...” He sighed. “She has another brain tumor—a malignant one. We came here to get a second opinion and to try a new procedure because none of the doctors at home will touch it...” His voice cracked. “She just...She just wants to see you again, just in case—just...You never gave her a chance to say all she had to say.”
“She was fucking you behind my back! There was nothing left to say!” I tried to wriggle free again, but his grip was too tight. “Look. I honestly don’t wish her any ill-will, and as a human being I do hope whatever treatment she’s here for goes well. However, personally, you two don’t exist in my world anymore and her sickness has nothing to do with me. So, if you could please let me go and get back to whatever life you’ve built with Amanda that would be great. I’ve given you more than twenty seconds and I’m not giving you anymore.”
“She was your best fucking friend.”
“Was—just like I was your wife. Funny how one three-lettered word says so much, huh?”
His face turned red and it looked like he was about to really lose it, but he leaned in closer so that we were nose to nose— lip to lip. “Stop pretending like you don’t care, Claire. You do. I can see it in your eyes.”