Mad About You: A Box Set

by Pamela Ann

  Well, more was I the fool.

  What was the point of being celibate the past month, anyway? Rose had been placed on the backburner because my thoughts were occupied by another. But sex was sex…Still, something provoked me to take such drastic measures to remain clean, free from traces of another woman’s touch and carnal essence.

  I did it…for her. It was my way of punishing myself for leaving her, and yet, look where that got me tonight. Utterly nowhere.

  The evil side of me injected the idea of barging in on them, but another side argued that this could be for the best. This was what I had wanted in the beginning, wasn’t it?

  Once upon a time, I had—before tonight transpired, before I savored how the wretched woman ignited with lecherous passion in my arms, dominated by an unfurling necessity for completion.

  I supposed she had been left unsatisfied after orgasming twice. The lascivious woman coveted more. She had stated her plans on shagging Wyatt tonight. It seemed that plan remained intact. If not mistaken, Rinaldi was fucking her right this very moment…seeking the same warm crevice I vacated hours ago, with my seed aiding him to fuck her better. Well, good on them then. Truly.

  What makes you think you weren’t fucking her with Wyatt Rinaldi’s nut coating your dick, too?

  BLOODY FUCKING CHRIST. “Damn you, Gisele! God damn you!” My body turned rigid, literally revolted at the thought of her being so filthy.

  And the wench had the gall to claim herself a virgin at Hank Rinaldi’s party? Yeah, right. If she was, then I’m the bloody fucking Pope.

  Ah, the vixen named Lexi Anne. I didn’t even bloody know where to start with this madness.

  The intricate web of lies she weaved. She spun so many I was left astounded by it all. Gisele’s vindictiveness was dumbfounding. I had to hand it to her; she was truly such a great actress. The deceitful woman had tricked me twice, and on both counts, I hadn’t seen them coming. I actually trusted her even after I walked in on her dressed as Lexi. It seemed my idiocy knew no bounds where she was concerned. I was a fool for letting a brat into my life. These childish amusements were juvenile, just like the fibber herself. Touching her should’ve been out of the question. But at that time, resisting her had been a sweet torture for me. Her enthusiasm, her quiet elegance, not to mention her stunning beauty made her irresistible in my eyes.

  Maybe this was her way of payback—all those rejected nights I held her to sleep had come into a vile fruition. Perhaps I deserved her vindictive mind games. After a devious successful night, she must be glowing with pride for out-maneuvering me each time.

  Women.

  There was a reason barriers were erected. For years, I’d successfully eluded manipulative women. Gisele Weber’s cunningness put them all to shame. The kitten had claws, and how deep those sharpened talons pierced through her victims.

  The mindfuck commenced, but instead of hastily dropping by on them unannounced, I stuck to my resolve and remained seated while I infuriatingly continued working on the prototype. While doing so, I endured several phases of anger. The betrayal coiled into something incredibly grotesque and abominable. It was volatile. Unpredictable. Impulsive.

  The last phase finalized to insouciance. Once I had found her endearing, enchanting. Never had I ever been so disillusioned. Well, she could go on with her infantile games, but I was done actively playing the part. The entertainment was kaput.

  This time, I sincerely meant it.

  It was seven in the morning when I emerged out of the company building. It was the same exact moment Mike’s message pealed into my phone, enacting my demand hours prior.

  Rinaldi just left. Alone, it said.

  My jaw locked. My resolve, undiminishing. “She doesn’t matter anymore. Rinaldi can have her all to himself.” Gisele Weber had no hold on me. Thank the fucking gods, I was free—free from the wretched guilt that consumed me these past weeks. I could live the life I once reveled in.

  Unperturbed, I slid my phone back into my trousers before pulling out my car keys, set to begin my Saturday morning in a much more jovial manner.

  Exhausted as I was, I left the headquarters feeling quite relieved. With Gisele’s deceits exposed, the ardent, undying hunger within me that she alone could satisfy had all diminished down to nothingness. The guilt that plagued me for the past month after rejecting her in the closet that one afternoon had vanished. I was wholly unburdened by it all. Leaving no hindrance in seeking Rose’s body once again. An inviting, warm, pliable body that indubitably could quench my desires. My pent-up hate, frustrations, cravings, and everything in between would be channeled into Rose’s willing body.

  And that was where I was heading and where I’d be seeking for days and nights to come.

  Gisele Weber should not and would not stop me ever again.

  Chapter 20

  Gisele

  Thank you for the present. I’m so excited to ride it. You have no idea how much I love the idea of his and hers. I miss you. Come back to me again…last night left me craving you. And I crave you, every minute of the day. Endlessly.

  Sent.

  Casually resting my head against the cool leather of the engine-red headrest, a cat-like grin played on my lips as my eyes took in his generous gift—a white DB11 Aston Martin. His black.

  Black and white.

  His and hers.

  Jared and Gisele.

  St. James?

  Yes, I giggled and blushed like the total idiot that I was.

  Wyatt hadn’t necessarily behaved as he promised. He tried to get me underneath him five times. All attempts were unsuccessful. Though he held me to put me to sleep, I barely got any shuteye, dreading that he might try once I’d fallen asleep. And if he did so, I’d be muddled with sleepiness and confusion, most likely mistaking him for Jared as I welcomed his advances.

  Regret occupied the rest of my night as I pretended to sleep while replaying Jared in my mind. It was too much of a torture, a mishap I wouldn’t dare commit again.

  The second Wyatt left my bedroom, I immediately opened the drawer on my side table. Words couldn’t express how thrilled I was as I grappled the key into my hand. It wasn’t about the extravagant gift per se, but what it implied.

  Surely this signified something, right? I mean, why would a man, a man who continuously reminded me he didn’t want to be with me, gift a car that was the same as his?

  It couldn’t just be a coincidence or a plain ole random thought…or could it?

  No. Random thoughts were a rarity to his ilk.

  Jared was calculated. God designed him significantly better than the rest. His brainwaves worked more unorthodoxly than most fair-minded individuals. Randomness wasn’t part of his DNA. Just like my father. Even to the last breath, everything had been premeditated. Jared was no different.

  So, this vehicle—this had to mean something substantial. It just had to. Even for Jared, this present wasn’t accidentally bought. He could’ve purchased anything, something non-related to him. And yet, he did. So, in turn, I’m left to ponder if he was slowly wrapping his mind around me, around the thought of us together.

  “Please,” I whispered desperately, beckoning him to come back. My hand lingered on the wheel, caressing as I appreciated the texture of the new leather on my fingertips. “Where are you, Jared?”

  I painstakingly envisioned him. The unadulterated ecstasy marring his gorgeous face, a look that signaled his restraint was about to be unshackled. A debauched expression indicating he was on the brink of capitulating to his baser instincts. A mixture of reckless raptures and pure awe as his monstrous girth stressed through my narrow passage, excruciatingly stretching my canal as he harshly plunged deeper into my core.

  I marveled at the glorious feel of him moving within my body, spreading me, wildly fucking me into exquisite oblivion. And how superb he fucked.

  Involuntarily, my pussy clenched as though he was still within me, pounding into me savagely.

  God, I wanted more of it. More of him.


  Merely donning my silk robe, I absentmindedly sat inside the interior of the car, door ajar, daydreaming in this sleek sex machine of a car, stimulated more than ever.

  Thoughtlessly, I reached for my phone, which I had haphazardly tossed earlier on the passenger’s seat due to uncontained bubbling excitement. I’d since calmed down a peg or two.

  Cheery as I excitedly bit on my lip, I dialed his number. It went unanswered. Jared woke up early, so there was no reason for him not to be awake. Or could he be working out with his katanas with that Japanese swordsman as well? “Let me try again.” I re-dialed his name. After the third ring, he picked up. I was about to enthusiastically greet him when a woman’s raspy voice came on the line.

  “Hello?”

  Was this his assistant? Her name was Audrey, right? I believed so. “Hi, Audrey. It’s Gisele Weber. Is the big boss available?”

  There was a lengthy pause.

  “Sorry, this is Rose, his girlfriend not his assistant. Jared’s asleep. We’ve been kind of busy catching up…He literally just passed out less than ten minutes ago.

  “If it’s that important, I can wake him. If not, I’m more than willing to relay a message the second he wakes up.”

  Rose.

  His Rose.

  The Rose.

  “No, there’s no need.” I drastically ended the call in case Rose decided to spout off more than I could handle. After all, clearly, revealing herself to me had me in all sorts of a limbo. The whiplash I suffered from her haughty correction had me reeling.

  Fuck me sideways. Here I was, fantasizing about the fucker while he’d been boning his girlfriend. Did she know about me or the fact that I had him last night? More importantly, did she give a damn if he did? Perhaps not.

  Jared, though he maintained one woman at a time, liked his women compliant to his needs, whether they were satiated by her or by someone else. And on this occasion, I was the someone else.

  I was the other woman. His side chick. His plaything. His dirty little secret.

  The realization hit me. Hard.

  How could he succeed in making me feel as though I was his sole universe and immediately get into another woman’s vagina right after? It was heartless. Totally beyond callous. Especially after I confessed I’d been in love with him all this time.

  “Typical Jared move. Why didn’t I even consider this?” Hastily scramming out of the Aston Martin, I left the car in the garage without wanting to see it ever again.

  Would he even call me back when Rose informed him I called? If he did, what would I even say? He wasn’t necessarily cheating on me since we weren’t together. But it still hurt. It wounded me as though he did cheat, betraying me in the most painful of ways.

  Out of nowhere, the large black hulk of a man, Malik, one of the ground’s security, approached me, asking if I needed anything else just when I was about to enter the house.

  Easing my contorted face, I shook my head. “No, but here,” I said, handing him the key. “Take it for a spin. At least it’ll be of some use. Better yet, why don’t you take your girl out on a date? I’ll take care of the reservations and everything.”

  The ex-Seal gazed at me with absolute uncertainty. “Mr. St. James won’t be cool about that.”

  I snickered. “It’s my present, so I get to do what I want with it, and right now, I want you to take your lovely pregnant woman out for a date.”

  He reluctantly took the keys before whispering, “But I’m on duty.”

  That could easily be remedied. “You’re free to go, Malik. If Mike or Johnson need confirmation, have them call me. Before you leave, see Thomas. He’ll have everything set by then. Cool?” I eyed him with amusement as I took in his astounded expression.

  When he didn’t respond, I did more talking. “Come on, my day started out shitty. If I’m not happy, at least someone else should be. Do it as a favor to me.”

  He beamed, showing his straight white teeth, grateful for my generosity. “You’re just like Mrs. Weber. She sent the missus and me to the Caribbean as her wedding present. It’s great to know that her daughter’s just as bighearted.”

  Hearing the burly man’s touching sentiment made me tear up a little. “Thank you, Malik. You have no idea how much it means to me to hear you say that. I needed that. I miss them greatly.”

  “He’ll come around,” he softly spoke through my muddled thoughts, seemingly concerned at my distraught demeanor. “A man doesn’t take time and effort for nothing. You remember that. He’ll come around. We’ve all known him for a long time, too. He’ll be back, Miss Gisele. Don’t doubt it for a second. He’ll come running back.”

  “I don’t know, Malik.” A saddened smile etched my lips, disconcerted. “I honestly don’t know anymore.”

  Everything was all so broken now, and with Rose still in the picture, Jared would always choose her over me. He’d give me a taste, and I always took it to heart, believing that he was mine from then on. My denials and overconfidence where Jared was concerned constantly turned calamitous. Never again would I make the same mistake. At the end of the day, this was all self-inflicted pain. My gullibility undermined growth. Perceptiveness was detrimental to my maturity. Best I learned how to tackle and balance both before it demoralized me, risking my future. Jeopardizing everything I held dear. I couldn’t have that.

  Even if I was in severe mental anguish, I appreciated the journey.

  This was my life—my story—and it was far from over. It had barely even begun. There would be endless journeys to experience. To conquer. To appreciate. More heartaches to overcome. More disappointments to endure. More mistakes to learn from. More adventures to thrill from. More love, more laughter to bask in. More successes to triumph from.

  I was smiling through the pain because someday I’d wake up to a painless smile, and I’d appreciate it all the more.

  Some did say that when God showed us it was time to let go and set them free, and we refused to do so, he’d allow them to hurt us to the point where we had no choice but to let them go.

  This was my warning.

  And after all this time, I was paying heed.

  Chapter 21

  Gisele

  My somber life dragged on. Each passing day, I was starkly reminded of his absence. I’d since halted my relationship with Wyatt, blaming confusion and whatever love sick excuse I could conjure up. Someday soon, I had to divulge my secret to him. Maybe then he’d understand where I was truly coming from. But until then, I was keeping him at a distance.

  The parties had been kept to a minimum. Although, on occasion, I still went with my two best ladies when I was in dire need of a confidence boost.

  It was right after the first grueling week that I found myself inspired to hire a personal trainer to help me tone my body even more. I was fit, but I needed an excuse to exert more of my anger towards something productive rather than piercing a hole through the bottom of an ice cream carton. I knew I had hit rock bottom when I was almost in tears as I kept scraping off the carton when I ran out of ice cream to shove into my mouth. Leslie, my trainer, and I trained seven days a week at dusk, be it at the gym or outdoors. Enduring the body aches and pains after the first few days was grueling. But I resorted to welcoming the excruciating way the workouts pulled at my sore muscles and the slow agonizing burn of my body being stretched to its limits. In the beginning, it had been a shock, but as the days wore on, I began to appreciate this newfound outlet. It sure had lessened my time dwelling about him. For that, I was beyond gratified.

  Speaking of which, Jared never had gotten back to me. My thank you text went unanswered as did my call. Of course, this was expected, but still, it injured me all the same.

  His memory still pained me, but with my mind constantly preoccupied with other activities, the ache in my heart had certainly reduced.

  Grateful for school to occupy most of my days, Ginny, my research partner, had been a refreshing addition to my life. She equally possessed and balanced a zest fo
r life and her beleaguered tantrums. One moment, she’d rage on about free speech, green energy, World War II conspiracy theories, then the next, she’d be muttering about her chubby fingers and persistent chin acne. Up and down, she went. And at times, I’d entertain her craziness, but most of the time I tried in earnest to boost her up. I even went to great lengths to enroll us in some uplifting yoga, but after the first initial try, she immediately called it quits.

  “For real. The only time I’ll willingly bend over is for sex, nothing else,” she exclaimed as she popped a can of soda open, delightfully riddled with her favorite toxins and carcinogens.

  Cocking my head to the side, I threw her an admonishing look. “For someone so unhappy with her body, you sure do love your sodas.”

  We were at a stop light. My body felt great after an hour of meditation and stretching.

  She took a few gulps before poking her tongue out, showcasing her piercing before madly grinning at me. “I only need five things in life. Mexican food. Sex. Computer. Jellybeans. High-speed internet connection. Take any of those necessities, and I’m going to commit first-degree murder.”

  “You’re hopeless,” I said, shaking my head, amused.

  “You should know that by now, webby.” She audaciously raised her soda can, pleased with herself. “Cheers to the wonderful bullshit.”

  It couldn’t be helped; I had to laugh. She was as endearing as she was outrageous. Not to mention brilliantly amazing, too. Apparently, my father was one of her heroes. She’d shyly admitted this one night when we were going over data analysis for dwindling depths in human interaction due to technology and vice versa.

  A week later, I was in the coffee shop where Ginny worked at when Blair and Vivienne joined us. This was our go-to Monday and Wednesday spot. Not only was it cozy and relaxed, but the coffee they served hit your bloodstream like crack would (Ginny’s own words). It also didn’t hurt that they made orgasm-inducing carrot cake bars.