by Jenna Rose
Rather than responding, I simply kept my mouth shut, walked past her, and ordered an Uber.
Arriving in 2 minutes.
Those two minutes couldn’t go by fast enough.
“Come on, Gwen,” Trisha said, coming up to me. “Give me something! The world wants to know!”
I sighed and turned around to face her.
I knew Trisha from when we were both starting out. She was a year ahead of me at UNH and had worked for a blog detailing all the campus romances—which jocks were dating which girls and all that garbage. She’d moved to Portsmouth after graduation and had dreams of moving to Los Angeles and working for TMZ.
Yuck.
She never came right out and said it, but I got the impression she either looked down on me for the kind of work I did, or thought I was arrogant because I wasn’t into her style of “reporting.”
“There’s nothing to know, Trisha,” I replied. “And I’m sorry if that means you have to go home without some sensationalist gossip for the internet.”
And like that, I turned around and started walking in the direction of my Uber. I heard her scoff in my direction, but I didn’t care. After all that had happened, I was in no mood to be caught up in some scandal involving Harrison, especially when there wasn’t one in the first place. I hadn’t let him seduce me…
…not all the way, at least.
I’d come close, though, and even though I hated myself for it, I’d challenge any woman in my place to go up there to that house and spend some one-on-one time with him and not get caught up in the moment.
Next time would be different. Next time I’d be prepared. Next time we talked it would be on neutral ground.
If there is a next time, I thought as my Uber came around the bend. I flagged it down and hopped in.
“Gwen?” the nice-looking old lady asked.
“That’s me,” I replied, shutting the door.
“That your second house?” she joked, pointing up to where Harrison’s mansion was visible up the hill.
I laughed softly. “No, that belongs to…a very interesting man.”
“Harrison Night,” she replied.
“You’ve heard of him?”
“Heard lots about him,” she said as she drove. “Heard he was a millionaire when he was in high school!”
“That’s almost true,” I said. “He made his first million before he was eighteen, but he wasn’t in high school. He’s a dropout.”
“You seem to know a lot about him yourself.”
“I’m a reporter,” I replied. “For the Derby Tribune.”
“And you were doing a story on him?” she asked.
I was trying to…
“That’s right,” I replied. “Rumor has it he’s the one buying the Pines from Tony Russell and has plans to clear-cut the whole thing and develop it.”
The old lady shook her head in disapproval. “You know, I’ve lived in Derby my whole life and those Pines have been there since I can remember. Seeing them go…well, that would just be a tragedy.”
“Well, that’s why I’m doing my best to get the story and expose him,” I replied.
“Any luck today?”
I gritted my teeth. “No. But I’m not giving up.”
“Good for you,” she smiled. “If you don’t mind me saying, you seem like a girl who doesn’t give up until she gets what she’s looking for.”
“I try,” I replied with a smile, feeling more defeated than ever.
I knew she was just being nice, but her words just made me feel like a failure. I hadn’t even begun to broach the story with Harrison before he swept me up into his arms and had his hand up my skirt.
It was humiliating just thinking back to how powerless he made me feel. Even then, sitting in the car as we drove, I couldn’t control what happened to my body when I thought about him…
…that carved jaw, that hard body…
…that enormous cock…
Sure, maybe I was innocent, but I didn’t need to have been around the block or have a PhD in Anatomy to know that Harrison was hung like a horse. Talk about blessed, right? Brains of a billionaire, dick of a pornstar.
I guess even if my story on him ended up destroying his image and bankrupting him, he could just go star in the adult film business and live happily ever after in a sea of women.
A sea of women…
Just the thought made me angry. But why? I looked over at my hand that was clenched around the armrest of the car.
I couldn’t be—jealous. Could I?
Oh, no…I thought, slumping down in my seat. I am jealous!
I covered my face with my hair as the old lady drove me back home, trying my best to come to terms with my situation.
I’m in trouble, I thought. Big trouble…
6
Harrison
“Did you get ahold of her yet!?” I called out to Audrey from the back patio.
“Not yet!” she replied from inside.
“You called the paper?”
“Of course I did, Harrison,” she snipped. “Jeff, her editor, told me he couldn’t give out personal contact information and if we wanted to reach her we’d have to call back tomorrow during normal business hours.”
“Is he fucking kidding me?” I snapped, getting to my feet and tossing my plate aside. “Doesn’t he know who the fuck I am?”
I scratched the skin underneath my chin and watched the last sliver of sunlight slowly start to vanish over the trees. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t appreciate it at all after what had happened earlier.
I had her, I thought. I had her in my arms and then I lost her.
My mind was still spinning, and every time I thought about what had happened, I just got even more pissed off. I’d gone over it a thousand times, trying to figure out what had spooked her, and the only conclusion I could come to was that she was simply afraid—afraid to give herself to me, afraid to let herself climax and be vulnerable in my presence…
But even that wasn’t a satisfying enough explanation. I had to talk to her.
But how was I supposed to do that if this Jeff son of a bitch wouldn’t give me her contact information?
I know most people assume that billionaires like me just have all sorts of tools at their disposal to figure out things like this—hunt people down, figure out where they live, and learn every one of their dirty little secrets—and if we were back in New York there would probably be a couple of guys I could get to do just that, but this was a more delicate situation and I didn’t want to deal with it that way.
No. I’ll find her myself.
“I’m going out,” I told Audrey as I strode back inside. “Keep making calls and see what you can find out about her. Call me if you get anything.”
“Not sure what else I can dig up, Harrison. We’re new here. Nobody’s going to talk to us.”
“Well, keep trying,” I told her, grabbing the Lamborghini key off the table by the door. “I’ll be back later.”
It took my dick almost a half an hour to go down after Gwen left. I’d considered just going upstairs and taking care of it myself, but it somehow felt wrong. I’d been that close to claiming her, only to have her snatched away from me at the last moment, and if I was going to have a release, it was going to be with her.
I won’t stop until she’s mine.
It wasn’t something I was used to—a feeling of need—but that’s what I was feeling as I hopped back in the Lambo, turned the key, and stepped on the gas.
Need.
I needed Gwen, and I couldn’t quite figure out why. It wasn’t just her mouthwatering curves, her luscious lips, her smooth skin, and dripping wet pussy; it was more than that.
It wasn’t just the fact that I’d boned up the instant I saw her and that she was the most gorgeous girl I’d ever seen, as though God himself had created her specifically to drive me wild.
And it wasn’t just because I couldn’t have her either.
No, there was something deeper go
ing on.
She was so fucking fiery! The way she gave it right back to me when we talked—the way she fought so hard to remain professional until that moment out back on the patio. It was so goddamn sexy.
Gwen wasn’t a New York City socialite-bimbo or a model or aspiring actress or Instagram “influencer;” she was a professional woman fighting for a career and demanding to be taken seriously.
And I liked that.
Plus, she was untouched. A virgin. And that was just the cherry on top of the world’s most delicious sundae.
The gates opened and I sped away toward town. I had no idea where I was going, but all I knew was that I couldn’t sit at home idly waiting for Gwen to call. It was killing me that she knew how to reach me but I didn’t know how to reach her.
I blazed down Redridge Road and came down into Derby and just started driving around. Maybe there was a chance that she was outside, or maybe my car would draw her attention and she’d come find me.
Nah, you’re dreamin’, bud.
Gwen wasn’t going to come looking for me—not tonight. I was going to have to wait for her to do that, and when I saw something I wanted, waiting was not something I was good at.
Where are you, I thought as I sped through the streets. I wasn’t really expecting to find her, but I didn’t want to go home either.
I drove by the paper, but the office was closed and the lights were off. I went downtown to Main Street and checked the coffee shop that was still open and the late night gelato place, but no Gwen.
Then a thought occurred to me.
She’d come to do a story on me coming to town…the Macadam Pines…
Why would she be asking me about the Pines? I thought. But it was the only lead (if you could even call it that) that I had, so I swung the car into a U-turn and headed in that direction.
Minutes later I was pulling into the dirt lot on the side of the road with a sign that read, “Macadam Pines. Bikes and hikers welcome!”
And there, sitting on the hood of a beat-up old maroon Camry, was Gwen Thompson.
Found you.
7
Gwen
I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky, watched the shadowed silhouettes of the towering pines sway in the evening breeze. The tallest trees in the forest were just over one hundred feet tall and looked to me like countless fingers reaching up to the stars.
The Pines were not only a special place to people living in Derby, but a special place to me. When I first came to this town, I spent a lot of time running through the trails and just sitting on my car watching the leaves and the branches.
It was peaceful, and after a long day of stressing out about my career, sitting down and feeling at one with nature was just what I needed.
And soon they’ll all be gone.
I balled up my fist and slammed it against the already dinged up hood of my old Camry. Compared to the Lamborghini I’d been riding in earlier—well, there really was no comparison.
“Harrison Night,” I said, smacking his name against my lips. “Fucking asshole.”
I don’t know what angered me more; the fact that Harrison was going to destroy the Derby town sanctuary or the fact that he’d almost made me his.
Word of this could never get out. I vowed right then and there to never even remotely mention what had happened between Harrison and me to Jeff, my parents, or anyone else in my life. If anyone found out, it would destroy my journalistic credibility. I could see the headlines now:
One-time wannabe reporter, Gwen Thompson, gives up life in the media for billionaire Harrison Night!
Ex-“Journalist,” Gwen Thompson, gave up her career in favor of being arm candy to New Hampshire’s most infamous playboy!
Ever think about mixing work with pleasure? Ask Gwen Thompson before you do!
I groaned and slumped back against the windshield and threw an arm over my face. I was still turned on, despite how miserable I was feeling. I guess that’s what happens when you get right up to the edge of orgasm and then deny yourself.
I thought about going home, running a hot bath, and finishing myself off before going to bed, but it somehow felt wrong. I couldn’t say exactly why, but it did.
“At least you got away from him when you did,” I whispered to myself. “God knows what else could have happened if you stayed.”
I could still feel his hands on me, his lips against mine, his fingertips against the skin of my thighs…moving up…up…up…
Fuck.
He was the first man to touch me there and it had felt amazing. I wasn’t going to lie to myself and pretend it didn’t. Within seconds I was ready to come. The man did know what he was doing, but that wasn’t surprising, given his reputation.
And I’d touched him down there too…
I closed my eyes as I remembered what he’d felt like…a warm, thick, hot rod of power and desire. He was hard for me, and he’d been that way since the moment he saw me. And again, I wasn’t about to pretend like that didn’t make me feel good.
I really wasn’t familiar with feeling desired like that, especially not by a man of Harrison’s caliber.
Mr. Night, Gwen, I reminded myself. Mr. Night.
As I lay there, reliving the moment we’d shared on the patio while simultaneously hating myself for almost giving myself over to such a scumbag, the definition of an evil capitalist, I was practically blinded by a pair of headlights that came around the corner like two spotlights.
Who’s this? I thought. Despite their popularity, not many people parked here by the Pines at night. I sat up and shielded my eyes as the car pulled up. I didn’t even need to see it to know who it was; I could tell by the sound of the engine.
It was Harrison.
And sure enough, his Lamborghini pulled in next to me. The engine shut off and Harrison stepped out, looking just as panty-wettingly handsome as he was this afternoon.
Get out of here now!
Thankfully, my body listened, and I was on my feet and tearing open the driver’s side door before I had a chance to second-guess myself. I knew that if I stayed, there was a good chance that I’d succumb to another round of Harrison’s professional charms. And that just couldn’t happen.
“Gwen!” he cried out. But I wasn’t stopping. I tugged the door open and moved to slide inside, but Harrison slid in front of me and blocked my way.
“Move,” I growled.
“Just wait—”
“Move!”
My shout echoed through the trees and hung in the air like something deadly. Harrison just stared at me and I stared right back at him. We stood there, staring at each other for what felt like a lifetime before he spoke.
“What is it, Gwen?” he asked slowly. “What happened back at the house? Why are you trying so hard to get away from me?”
“Why are you tearing down the Pines!?” I shouted back.
Harrison gave me an odd look and cocked his head to the side like I’d just said something he didn’t understand.
“Yeah, see…what do you mean by that?” he asked. “I heard you mention something about this place earlier, which is why I thought you might be here, but I—”
“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t understand!” I snapped, slapping him hard on the chest. “You and that son of a bitch, Tony Russell! You’re going to tear this place down and ruin it!”
“Gwen,” Harrison said slowly. “Honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you don’t?”
“I bought up space for my new factory out on Caravan Road where the old drive-in was. I don’t own this.”
He’s lying!
“Bullshit,” I replied.
“Not bullshit,” he countered. “I’d tell you if I did, but I don’t. If that’s the story you were planning on running on me, well then I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but there’s no story.”
“You’re just saying that…”
“Gwen, you have read many things about me, I’m sure,” he sa
id. “That I’m a playboy, a ladies’ man, a genius, a ruthless business man—but have you ever heard anyone accuse me of being a liar or a cheat?”
I felt the ball of anger inside me beginning to dissipate. Could it be true? Were the rumors Jeff had heard not true?
“No,” I admitted.
“Thank you,” Harrison said with a sigh. “Now, who’d you hear this from?”
“My editor told me.”
“And who told him?” he asked.
“I—he didn’t say,” I admitted. “He said it was a rumor.”
Harrison smiled and chuckled to himself. “A rumor started by this Tony Russell guy no doubt to get you off his ass. That sound about right?”
Shit…
Harrison was right. How could I have been so stupid? I’d been after Tony for so long that when he saw Harrison move into town, he knew he could paint him as the villain and get my attention off him. So he started the rumor, it reached Jeff, and Jeff put me on the story.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
I hung my head in shame. I felt like an even bigger failure now than I already had. I’d let Harrison throw me completely off my game—so much so that not only had I let myself get involved with him, but I’d missed the real story because I was too busy wrapped up wallowing in my own anger and self-pity.
“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Harrison said as he stepped close to me and put his hands on my waist. His touch was warm and I didn’t pull away. “We all get taken sometimes. But what matters is we keep fighting.”
“Yeah…” was all I could manage to say.
“Like you, for instance,” he said, bending down so his face was close to mine. “I could have given up today when you ran out of my house…but I didn’t.”
A heat swept through my body. Every nerve in my body suddenly cried out as an undeniable desire took over.
I knew how wrong this was; a journalist getting together with the guy she was supposed to be doing a story on, but now that there was no story, was there really any harm in giving into what we both wanted?