by Dani Rene
“Are you seriously over her?”
“Yes. We would never work; I don’t even know why I proposed in the first place. I guess I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn’t my father. That I wouldn’t lose the woman in my life.” He shakes his head, and I notice he didn’t say the woman I love, which I find intriguing.
I get that he’s over her.
And I understand they’re divorced—or meant to be.
But why wouldn’t you marry someone you didn’t love?
“Well, then we’ll figure out how to get through this.” I shrug.
“I want you, Nea. I fucking crave you every single day,” Julian says as he pushes to his feet. He’s so tall, looming over me, and I’m reminded about how he can easily lift me in his hands. “Since the moment you walked in here with that godforsaken, sheer black blouse.”
I think back to the interview, how he lifted the material as if it made him ill, and he sneered about how he hated it.
“Ever since I smelled that fucking perfume that got right inside my senses, all of them. It was as if I could taste you, touch you, smell you, and I never wanted to stop.”
“Is that why you were so angry when I wore it?” I tip my head backward, my focus on Julian’s gaze. He nods. I smile. He’s such a man. Every part of him is everything I never thought I wanted. But it’s too soon to feel like that, or to even voice my feelings, so I keep them inside my heart for now.
“I just didn’t want to crave you so much,” he tells me. “You’re here. My past will always be where I put it, behind me. I need you to know that everything I’ve ever told you is who I am. Shay will try to sway you from me.”
“Why? If she’s moved on, then she wouldn’t be bothered with what you’re doing.” Even as I say it, my mind is spinning with all the reasons that she may have to hate him.
Julian’s always been an asshole toward me, even when he wasn’t in a bad mood. But then when I questioned him, giving him rules in order for me to work for him, he’s seemed to reign in his temper. And I wonder if he just wants to push people away by being an asshole.
“My ex-wife and I never got along, at least, not when I needed to work. She was happy to spend the money, but when I had to focus, she would tell me that I was responsible for her unhappiness.”
“But she knew you were an artist. She had to have known that there would be nights where you didn’t come to bed, where you’re in your own mind, painting.” All of this makes sense to me because I studied art. I knew what it took to get those unique pieces on the canvas. But she didn’t.
“I thought she did, I really thought she would’ve accepted me for who I am.” Julian glances at me when I place my hands on his chest. The heat of him is soothing, even as we talk about something less than calming.
“I’m yours. I’m here. Take me to bed, and I’ll show you.” My words have fire dancing in Julian’s dark eyes, and I know I have him wrapped around my finger. All this talk about his ex has me wanting to prove I’m not her, that I can accept him for all he is. And perhaps I can love him too.
Julian doesn’t need asking twice. He never needs asking, but when he lifts me by my ass, I can’t help but squeal as I wrap my legs around his tapered waist.
He growls when I roll my hips, his body hard against me. The friction that sends jolts of electricity sparking through me makes me whimper. Julian’s eyes are deep green with lust when he kicks his studio door open, and for the first time, I’m inside his personal space.
“We’re here,” I say in shock.
He lies me down on a chaise that overlooks the lights of the city. From here, I can see far into the distance. “I wanted you inside here, to feel me all over you when I sketch you.” He steps back, behind an easel, then he tells me, “Take off all your clothes. I want you naked, spread for me, and I’m going to draw you for as long as I can hold out.”
“And what if you can’t hold out?” I tease shimmying out of my skirt, then my blouse. The deep and feral sound that comes from Julian has me squeezing my thighs together.
“Off with everything and let me see that body,” he orders as he sets up pencils, charcoal, and some dry brushes. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but I’m excited about him drawing me.
Once I’m naked, I lie back against the chaise and open my legs for him. He’s seen me naked so many times, now I no longer feel shy. If we’d done this the first or second time, I might have passed out from nerves.
“Fuck.” Julian’s husky curse pulls me back to the present. “You’re fucking everything and more.”
“Thank you.” This time I blush, because hearing someone tell me that, even now, still makes butterflies awaken in my stomach. He picks up his instruments and starts working. I don’t focus on what he’s doing, I concentrate on the scratch of the pencil, on the lead attacking the paper with harsh strokes. It’s like a melody, a symphony of creation that takes me to a place of pure happiness.
I’m thinking about the classes at college, then I find myself in Rome, walking the streets, looking at the artists that sit along the sidewalks, painting tourists. The colors, and smells, and mostly, the smiles from the people who enjoy what they see.
I don’t know how long passes, but when I blink, I find Julian looking down at me with pure hunger in his eyes.
“Are we done?” He doesn’t respond. He tugs his shirt off, then unbuckles his belt, which hits the wooden floor with a loud clank. Next to go are his pants, and soon enough, his boxers and socks are on the floor as well.
“I want your mouth,” he tells me without a please or a thank you. His hands fist at his sides when I lick my lips and take him in hand. He’s hard, smooth, and silky, and I stroke him back and forth. The tip of his cock weeps with arousal, and I lean in to lap at him like I would an ice cream cone.
Wrapping my lips around his shaft, I suck him into my mouth, tasting the saltiness of his arousal as it coats my tongue. The grunts that vibrate in his chest make me squeeze my thighs together. I feel powerful, in control, and watching pleasure etch itself on his expression has me moving faster.
My throat pulses around the tip of him as I take him deeper. Julian’s hands fist in my hair, holding me in place as his abs tense and tighten with every thrust of his hips.
He takes over, and for a moment, I allow him to until I feel it’s enough and graze my teeth along the shaft. The hiss that escapes his clenched teeth has me attempting a smile.
“Naughty girl,” he growls down at me as his hips pull back, and his cock pops from my mouth. “Your turn.” He lifts me to standing, then spins me around and pushes my back down until I’m bent over.
I feel his heat as Julian drops to his knees. His hands work me gently, opening my legs, and then his mouth is on me. Pleasure zips through every vein in my body, sparking me to life as fire turns me inside out with desire. Julian’s tongue works magic on my center, licking and lavishing me as if I were his favorite treat.
The deep rumble from his lips vibrates along my slick flesh, which has my knees wobbling. But Julian holds me up, keeping me from falling over. His fingers dip inside me, opening me, spreading my walls, and then I feel the hot wetness of his tongue dipping into me as he fucks me deep.
My fingers fist the material beneath me, and my knees buckle onto the soft cushioning, but Julian’s focus is my pleasure because he doesn’t stop. His ministrations only get faster and deeper and more intense as my gut tightens.
Two fingers slide into me, and his other hand snakes up toward my ass. Suddenly, a loud, harsh slap echoes around us, but it’s the sting on my cheek that has me yelping in shock. I never realized I’d like being spanked, but my body is responding each time he does it.
“Come on my tongue, Nea,” Julian commands from where he’s kneeling. “I want you to come hard.” His words are fuel, dripping on the glowing embers of my desire, and soon enough, I feel the coil tightening. Tension tugs at me, my muscles spasm, and seconds later, I’m screaming his name as my release shatters me.
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br /> Chapter 22
Julian
This woman. This fucking woman is going to drive me out of my ever-loving mind. Hearing her come so hard, screaming my name, has my blood at boiling point. I rise, taking her in as she kneels on the chaise. Her body is mine for the taking, and her taste is laced on my tongue.
My cock is hard, ready to feel her pulse around me. She glances over her shoulder, looking at me with those fuck me eyes, and I almost shoot my load right here. But I fist myself as I step closer to her. The feel of her heat sends me into orbit. My need for her only seems to burn brighter each time we’re together.
“Are you ready, darlin’?” I ask her, which only earns me a whimper of a yes before I slide into her tight pussy. She feels like she was made for me, molded to my cock like someone that was only meant to have me inside her.
Her ass is bright red from where I spanked her, and the rosy hue only makes my cock harder.
“Please, Julian,” she mewls. Her pleas are music to my ears. I grip her hips, my fingers digging into her possessively, as I pull out and slam back in. I can’t hold back. I don’t want to hold back. I meant what I said to her. She’s mine now. Our bodies move in sync.
She claws at the chaise; my body is lost to the white-hot pleasure currently burning a path through every vein in my body. Nea’s pussy pulses around my shaft, but I don’t relent. I want to draw another two orgasms from her.
I reach around, circling her clit, and with my other hand, I toy with her nipple, tugging and tweaking until I feel her walls tighten so hard I’m almost blinded from the intense pleasure.
She’s still whimpering as I continue fucking her. Nea’s soft moans, then loud ones, are all a soundtrack to our lovemaking, our fucking, our connection. My body is hers the same way hers is mine.
I pull out one more time as I feel her body tighten, sucking me in deep. And I know it’s time to let go. And I do. I hold her close, my hips slamming into her, and her sweat-slicked back against my chest is where I find my euphoria.
We don’t move for a long while. And I don’t want to move, to slip out of her, because the only thing that seems to keep me sane, that makes me feel real, is her.
When I do disconnect from Nea, she turns to look directly at me. Her eyes are shining with happiness, and I mimic her smile. Gently, I lift her into my arms, and she twines her hands around my neck as I walk us through the house, down the hall, and into my bedroom.
I set her down on the bed, and she smiles up at me.
“Was that dessert?” she teases, giggling when I roll her onto her back and practically leap over her. Her laugh bounces off the walls of my bedroom. It’s been so long since laughter was heard here, and Nea truly has brought my home to life. But more importantly, she’s brought me to life.
“That was a lot more dessert than you’re used to,” I tell her. “Isn’t it?” Our lips touch gently. She doesn’t shy away from me anymore. The confident girl with the ink that adorns her skin is mine. She’s in my bed, and she’s making me fall in love with her.
“There can never be too much dessert,” Nea whispers along my mouth. “And when I’m around, you’ll always have something sweet to eat.”
“Now that is definitely music to my ears. When can you move in?” The moment the question leaves my lips, I realize what I just said. Her mouth opens, her eyes widen, and I realize I’ve just said something stupid. I shouldn’t have muttered the words. “I’m going to get cleaned up.” Pushing off her, I rise to full height. When I feel her hand on me, I jerk it off. “I said I need to get cleaned up.” My tone is biting, but I can’t explain where it’s coming from.
“Julian.” Her voice is soft, timid.
“I need time.” It’s all I can manage as I head into the attached bathroom, leaving her on the bed. I open the hot water tap and grab a cloth. She needs to clean up, and after what I just said and did, leaving her in there, I think I should make up for it.
Guilt tightens my chest when I walk back into the bedroom to find it empty. Racing into the studio, I come to find Nea’s clothes are gone, and so are her shoes.
Frustration has taken hold of me as I drive to Nea’s apartment. I didn’t want to have to do this, but she’s forced my hand. I shouldn’t have walked away from her, but as I sat in the bedroom, with her scent all over the sheets, I knew I needed to apologize. But I gave myself a few hours, time to think about how I’m going to explain my coldness toward her. She’s fire, and I’m all fucking ice. When I pull up to the building, I park, exit the vehicle, and head for the door.
It’s easy getting through the entrance foyer when I explain that I’m her boss, and soon enough, I’m outside Nea’s door. And for some reason, I’m fucking nervous. I don’t know what to make of these emotions that currently have a hold of me, because they’re new, unchartered territory for me.
I knock twice. I leave my hand on the door, feeling the cool wooden surface under my knuckles. She’s home because there’s a light shining from underneath her door. From the other side, I hear shuffling, and then the door opens a crack. I notice the chain meant to hold the door shut, but I know if I truly tried, I’d be able to break my way in.
Would I do that?
“Open the door, Nea.”
“I’m tired, Julian. Please, just leave me alone.” Her voice is broken as she says this, the pain evident in her tone. I fucked up this time, and I did it royally.
“I’m not leaving until you come out and talk to me, or you let me in to talk to you.” I keep my voice steady, even though I’m losing my shit inside. The turmoil currently raging a war in my gut is nothing compared to the moment I saw she’d left.
“I really can’t do this tonight,” Nea tells me. She doesn’t look. She keeps her gaze on the floor, and I notice her slippers — big, fluffy, pink unicorns. It makes me smile because from her ink, piercings, and purple hair, I would never have guessed she’d own anything pink.
“You can do this tonight because I need to talk to you. As your boss, I order you to open this fucking door, Nea,” I bite out, frustration slipping from my lips in my cold, commanding tone.
This causes her to snap her gaze toward me. Her eyes hold indignation at my tone, and I know her anger is about to spill over. “You’re such an entitled asshole, Julian Elliott. I cannot do this right here, or now. I need time to think about what we’re doing, and if you can’t accept that, perhaps I should call the police, and they can explain it to you in their own way.”
The confidence she exudes only serves to make me want her more. She’s everything I could ever need, and I fucked it up.
“I want you, Nea. I didn’t mean to freak out. I’ve just never felt like this about anyone before.”
“And standing at my door demanding I open it for you is not the way to apologize.” She’s right; I’m acting like the asshole she saw on her first day— the angry recluse of a man who had been broken one too many times. The man whose biggest fear was being left alone, but even so, all I wanted was to be on my own.
After Nea came into my life, I wanted more. Something different. That scared the shit out of me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I turn, and I hear her breathe deeply. I’m so in tune with her, I can sense her emotions as if they were my own.
She doesn’t respond. The door shuts with a click, and I hear the lock turn. I don’t know if she’s leaning against the door like I want to. I don’t know if she’s crying just the way I picture her doing. But every instinct inside me fights the raging war within me. I shouldn’t leave, I should not walk down the stairs and out the door onto the sidewalk. But I do anyway.
Chapter 23
Nea
I don’t want to walk into the office today. I certainly don’t feel like seeing him. When Julian knocked on my door last night, I almost opened it and let him in. But if I did, I would’ve only fallen into bed with him because, for some unknown reason, I can’t say no to him.
My Uber dropped me at the end of the dri
veway, I needed to clear my mind before walking into the house. The stroll down the drive is long, but I take it slowly in the hopes I can think through what is going to happen when I see him. I have so many things I’d like to say to Julian. But none of them seems like the right thing. Yes, he’s made me feel things I never thought I would, or could, but I’m also not going to just move in with him because he asked. Then I’m reminded of how he ran off the moment he asked the question.
My emotions feel as if they’re at war with each other. But I’m not a lovesick teenager, I’m grown up, and I’m not going to let him sway my decision. I came here to find out who I am, to find out what my journey in life should be, and that’s what I’m going to do.
I definitely have feelings for Julian, and the thought of him not actually being divorced also plays its role in my thoughts. Actually, if I had to be honest, it takes the lead role in my mind because I’ve become the other woman, even if the man I’m sleeping with believed he was single.
It was a mistake to let him in, but I don’t feel guilty for what we shared. I enjoyed our time together, but it’s clear that our relationship should be platonic. And that’s what I’m going to tell him. I think this the moment I step up onto the porch and find him sitting on the bench, nursing a tumbler half-filled with amber liquid.
He looks like he hasn’t slept. And he also smells like he hasn’t showered in days. Even though I saw him last night. He doesn’t look up when I walk up to him. I know he can feel and hear me, and I know he can see my black Doc Martens that adorn my feet.
Slowly, Julian lifts his head, his gaze locking on me. The pain in his expression almost makes me cave in and drop to my knees to hold him, but I hold my spine straight.