by Ellie Rowe
If that’s what she’s even doing.
Ding! This is going to be the death of me. I stuff an egg roll in my face and pray whatever she’s saying isn’t incriminating. I thought this would be fun, this whole BFF night. Instead, it’s my own personal hell.
“Just leave it to me, babe.” So much for my independence, I think grumpily. She smiles as she sends her last message.
Ding! She reads the response rapid fire, and with a satisfied nod, sets the phone under her butt and out of reach.
“So, that bitch Gabby —”
“Are you kidding me!?” I rage as I sit up. “You can’t just bypass everything that happened there, Josie.”
“It’s my house!” she says before sticking out her tongue. “So, anyway, that bitch Gabby—” I groan and slap my hand to my forehead and settle back in. I trust Josie... Sort of. She wouldn’t do anything to deliberately hurt me.
“So, that bitch Gabby?” I sigh and Josie’s face lights up. That sly little minx. She knows talking shit about Gabby is one of the few things that can distract me from the little game of telephone that just went down.
“Well, Daddy Green has had to step in on several occasions to save her ass. Nothing catastrophic. Yet,” she says with an evil gleam in her eye, “but justice is coming, baby, and it’s gonna be swift.”
I know I shouldn’t take such sick pleasure in the destruction of another human being, but whether it’s the wine or the carbs, I’m feeling rather blissful about it. I don’t wish ill on just anyone. You have to really fuck me over to warrant my hatred.
Gabby is one of the few who’s accomplished that feat. Gabby and my ex-husband... And the fucking weasel.
“Go on…” I goad Josie and she wiggles closer to me.
“So, remember that big editorial you had lined up? The one the board members were gaga about and was meant to shake up the next issue?”
“Yes,” I say bitterly and Josie winces.
“Sorry. But, anyway, clearly Gabby can’t deliver anything close to what you’d cooked up and now the board is wondering why. Gabby swore she had plans for it, better than yours, by the way, and she’s got bubkis!”
Not that I’m not delighted to hear this, but during her speech, I’ve noticed the corner of her phone starting to slide out from under her butt. As she claps her hands in glee, I dart forward and snatch the phone from underneath her.
Josie shrieks and tries to grab it back, but I fling myself up from the couch, standing and giggling like an idiot while trying not to spill my food.
“Thief! Robber!” Josie wails and lunges for me. I shriek and fall back into the couch before she wrestles it out of my hands. “Damn Natalie!” Josie grins and pockets her phone. “You’ve got it bad, huh?”
“I don’t have it bad! It’s just that I’m in the middle of a tabloid nightmare, so excuse me if I’m concerned about what is being said or how it’s being said —”
“Would I ever steer you wrong?” Josie asks, her hands planted firmly on her hips. I hang my head.
“No,” I agree. “Except Boca.”
Josie winces.
“Yeah, Boca, but never again!” She reminds me with a waggle of her finger. “Look, this guy seems sweet. And, from what he said about you — no, I’m not gonna tell you what, that’s his story to tell — I think he likes you, too.”
I sigh and Josie settles into the couch next to me, slinging her arm around my neck. “I mean, come on, when was the last time you had it so good?” I snort. “Let me rephrase. When was the last time you could’ve had it so good?”
She’s got me there.
Is it sacrificing my independence to ask for help? I mean, I asked Josie for help without thinking twice. I just don’t want to be weak in front of him. Fragile. Emotional.
Those words are burned into my heart. A delightful remnant from Blake. As if my having needs or emotions was reason for him seek other women. Still, I can’t seem to drop that baggage. I just keep lugging it around with me.
“You’re right, Josie. I know you love to hear it,” I smirk, and she squeezes me tight. “You’re right.”
“I know,” she sighs contentedly. “So, tell me. Does he have a brother?” We laugh and I shake my head.
“Worth an ask,” she mutters.
“Just tell me one thing. Did you tell him I was… I don’t know… whiny or desperate for him?”
Josie snorts and slaps me lightly up the back of my head. “Who the hell do you think I am?” she guffaws. “Listen, you need to have some wine and relax, bubby.”
I take a pointed sip of my wine and stare at her. “Boy, you really hate surprises, don’t you? Well you won’t have to wait long, it’s already been about 15 minutes.”
“Surprise?” I ask when my phone lights up. At first, I think it’s a message from Roger and I snatch it out of sight from Josie. But it’s not, it’s a phone call from an unknown number.
“Pick it up!” Josie yells and I almost drop my phone.
“But, it’s unknown!” I yell back, clutching my heart.
“Pick it up, you dummy!” Josie tosses a pillow at me and I smash my screen angrily.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Ms. Ashcroft?” I narrow my eyes at Josie who claps like a little kid. I answer that, yes, it’s me and ask them who’s speaking.
“Ah, your car service is waiting for you downstairs, Ms. Ashcroft, courtesy of Mr. Zane. We’ll have a man in the lobby escort you.”
Twenty-Four
Roger
I greet her at the door with a glass of wine.
“Your friend said you’d already had dinner, so I figured we’d skip ahead.”
Natalie takes the wine and steps into my apartment. There’s a guarded look in her eyes as she takes a sip. Then her eyes flick over my shoulder and she freezes.
Sometimes I forget the effect my penthouse can have on people.
“Would you like a tour?” I ask.
She tries to play it cool and gives me a shrug, “sure.” She takes a big gulp of the wine. Her awe is cute.
I offer her my free arm as I take a sip of my own wine and give her the grand tour.
The first floor has an open-floor plan, so you can see pretty much straight through from the door. The wraparound floor-to-ceiling windows give you a view of most of Manhattan. The Swarovski crystal chandelier over the twelve-person dining room table dominates half of the space.
“And… how many crystals are in that?” she asks.
“Oh, I forget. I think it’s somewhere around ‘a lot’.”
She takes another gulp of wine.
At the window, I show her the gold-plated telescope. She looks through it. “See anything?” I ask.
“Some stars are coming out. I’m just glad it’s not pointed at some girl’s bedroom window.”
“I angled it when I knew you were coming,” I kid.
She looks at the grand piano. “You play?”
“Not a note. You?”
She shakes her head, another gulp of wine. I guess it is a little weird to have a grand piano when you don’t play, but the interior decorator said I needed one, so…
I gesture up the stairs. “The bedrooms are up there. And my study.”
“Of course,” she says. She finishes the wine. I grab the bottle and pour her another glass.
Instead of taking her up that way, I say, “Let me show you my favorite part of this place.” I offer her my arm again and lead her into the kitchen. “I’ve had chefs come over and cry when they see this.”
I flip on the lights.
“You gotta be kidding me,” she says, finally dropping her cool.
The kitchen is my coup de grace. It’s all white subway tile, marble and stainless steel. My pots and pans hang from iron hooks over the Italian-marble island in the middle of the Spanish-tiled floor. The double-stove and oven are top-of-the-line. There are Michelin restaurants that can’t afford this shit. All the appliances are blended into the walls and cupboards. And sometimes even I can’t
find the refrigerator. Steel-and-glass floor-to-ceiling windows off to the side have a door that leads to a walled-in, ivy-covered garden.
I pull two stools out from the island and we settle in. I top off our glasses.
There’s a pregnant pause between us. I feel like I should say something. Apparently, she does, too, because we both start speaking at the same time.
We share a laugh, then she says, “You go.”
“I… don’t have anything that interesting to say,” I admit. “So, you go ahead.”
“OK,” she takes a breath. “Why did you vanish?”
Oof. “Maybe I should’ve gone first,” I stall. “I was gonna bring up the Yankees.”
“I’m serious,” she says. “Were we in a relationship?”
Feelings time, I guess. I squirm a little in my stool. “You said you needed some independence.”
“Yeah?”
“Well… I thought you were breaking up with me.”
Her eyes go wide. “Why would you think that?”
“Isn’t that what ‘independence’ means?”
“No. ‘I want to break up’ is just that. ‘Independence’ means I don’t want to rely on you for everything.”
I stare into my wine. “I, uh, I guess I have some abandonment issues,” I mumble.
“Was your mom distant or something?” she asks with a smile. It cuts the tension a little.
I take a deep breath. Here we go. “No… I got walked out on just a few days before I was supposed to head for the altar,” I say.
She nearly spits her wine out. Maybe because she can’t believe I was almost married, not that I got walked out on.
I tell her the Cliff Notes version of my relationship with Tabitha and Eddie’s betrayal. There’s no sense making a whole maudlin tale out of the thing. What’s surprising to me is how easy it is to share it all with Natalie.
For the most part, my hurt around Tabitha is still all wounds, not scars. But I’m so comfortable with Natalie, it starts to feel like I’m telling a story about someone else. Amazingly, by the time I’ve wrapped up, I actually feel better.
So much better, in fact, that as I pour us each another glass of wine, I find myself confessing to her, “Truth is… I may have some feelings for you.”
“You may?”
“Don’t tease,” I say. I give her an earnest look. “I have feelings for you. Like, real ones. And it’s a pretty big deal for me.”
Whoa, did I just say that? Well. It’s out in the open now.
I watch her take that in. She doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, she sets her wine glass down and stands up. Is she leaving? My heart sinks a moment –
Then she places a hand on my cheek. Leans in. And kisses me.
It’s soft. Gentle. Affirming. A kiss that tells me everything I need to know.
She feels the same way.
The realization sends a fire through my body. I place my hand softly behind her head and pull her mouth a little harder against mine, kissing her more deeply.
She slides a hand down my chest and to my groin. Checks to see if I’m interested. I am. She pulls herself away from our kiss with a soft nibble of my lower lip. She kneels down.
I slide my hips forward to make it easier for her to undo my belt, unzip my pants. She takes out my straight-as-an-arrow cock. Slowly, she runs her tongue up along the whole length of it, pausing ever so slightly at the top before taking just the head in her mouth.
At first, she just holds me in there, her tongue rolling around the head. When I start to moan, she takes the rest of it. I let out a moan. Going slowly, she slides her mouth up and down one side, then the other. She takes the head in her mouth again, then slides off, then on again, going deeper and deeper each time.
“Oh God, Natalie…” I whisper.
She speeds up and slows down, bringing me close and then backing off again. She starts to get one of her hands involved, first just sliding her fingers along the underside of my prick. Then, she wraps her hand around my wet member, swirling around, and up and down as she continues to suck me off.
My cock gets even harder inside her mouth. I feel myself building up toward an orgasm. She keeps a moderate rhythm. Each motion of her hand, each slide of her mouth up and down my shaft brings me a rush of ever-increasing pleasure.
I grip the sides of the stool as I feel myself cresting the wave.
“Oh, Jesus, I’m gonna come,” I moan.
“Mm-hmm,” she says, sending more vibrations through me, taking me that much higher.
Now she speeds up. Electricity crackles through my whole body and I come in a rush deep in her mouth.
“Mmm,” she moans, her mouth still around my dick. She slides me in and out of her mouth a few more times. I shudder each time as the orgasm continues to spasm through me.
Finally, she slides me out and stands up. I don’t even give her time to think about what’s next. I put my dick away and grab her hips, lifting her onto her stool. I lean in like I’m going to kiss her. She lifts her chin, moving her mouth toward mine.
I slide a hand straight up her skirt and slip her underwear to the side. She’s already wet and my finger slides in easily. She gasps. I tease her a little more with my mouth, but my thumb’s making tiny circles on her clit and she suddenly can’t catch her breath.
My finger slowly slides out. I shove her skirt up around the top of her thighs, run my hands along the insides, feeling her soft, smooth skin. I go for another kiss. She meets me again, but, before our lips can touch, I’m on my knees and burying my face between her legs.
At first, I put my mouth on her panties, breathing hot against it. Then I slip them off, over her boots, dropping them to the floor, and getting to work on her pussy.
She gives an excited gasp and pushes on the back of my head as the wet lips of her vagina open for me. I place my whole tongue against her honeypot, the back of my tongue applying gentle pressure against her clit. I roll my tongue side to side, and then up and down, massaging her entire pussy and sending little bursts of pressure against her clit.
She gasps each time.
I slide a hand up and under her shirt. I tease her nipples through her bra as I shift my tongue again. Her clit is hard and wet as I surround it with my tongue. I roll around, changing directions and pace to keep her on the brink. She moans and gasps appreciatively, calling out my name.
Then she thrusts her hips forward and squeezes her thighs against my ears. I send my tongue deeper, increasing the pressure against her clit. I keep my rhythm nice and firm, never too fast and never too slow.
She comes hard. Her delicious wetness floods my mouth.
Almost immediately, she stands me up and kisses me.
I’m still hard, which is good because I can tell we’re just getting started.
Twenty-Five
Natalie
I pull him to meet me, tasting our juices between our winding tongues. I feel like falling over, but I cling to him instead as his hands run over the curves of my body. Something feels different.
I want to cling to him. I want him to cling to me. I want to be needy and to taste every inch of him, and give him anything he needs — to forget... to feel good. I can’t change anything that happened to him in the past, but I have him right here and right now.
He pulls away, his lips swollen and delicious. “Come with me,” he whispers, his forehead pressed against my head. I nod and he takes my hand, leading me up a gorgeous flight of marble stairs.
Not that I’m unused to luxury, but this place is beyond anything I’ve ever seen. He brings me up the steps and into the landing. His hand slides to the back of my neck and he pulls me close, placing a tender kiss on my lips as he presses me against the wall.
“Never finished the tour,” he smiles and pulls me along. “Study, bathroom, shower.” He turns to look at me, and I laugh and shake my head.
He nods and continues, “guest bedroom, half-bath, and… master.” He turns back to me and I nod.
<
br /> With a smile, he tugs me into the bedroom. Any attempt at nonchalance disappears, and my mouth hangs open in shock. It’s like some sort of palace. Roger laughs and pulls me close.
“I’m glad you like it.” His hands finger the edges of my shirt and he slowly strips it off. As soon as my head is free, I pull him toward me, undoing the buttons of his shirt as I taste his lips on mine.
Once he’s free, he spins me around and gently pushes me onto his massive bed. I sit back on my elbows and watch him hungrily as he strips off his pants. I shimmy off my skirt and he drops to his knees at my feet. He slowly unzips my boots, kissing my calves as he pulls them free.
Every touch is tender, and I arch my head back to relish the sensation. He makes his way up my naked thighs, planting kisses in his wake until he reaches my collarbone, crawling on top of me and pushing me back against the bedding.
“I want you,” I whisper into his ear and he nods, his breath shaky as he slides off his briefs. “I need you, Roger.” He gently slides his hand up my thighs as he guides himself inside me.
We moan collectively at the contact, I clench my muscles as he pushes in, adding to the friction. “Natalie.” He gasps as he thrusts all the way inside my wetness, filling me up. He moves slowly, sliding in and out.
He kisses my collarbone, gliding his arms around my back to pull our chests together. I open my eyes for a moment and see the tall ceiling. A smaller crystal chandelier hangs above us, sending mini-rainbows dancing on the ceiling as we grind together.
I can feel how much he wants me, the way he’s holding me, like he can’t pull me close enough. I feel the same. Our bodies glide against each other, sweat beginning to pool.
I kiss his cheek, his chin, and let him hear how good he feels, gasping and moaning as he makes love to me. That’s what this is, isn’t it? This is what it means to make love?
I bury my face in his neck as he thrusts harder. His hands glide up under my bra to my breasts and he squeezes gently, thumbing my nipples until they’re hard and sensitive.
Roger’s pulls me up slowly, still fucking me, until I’m in his lap. His fingers find the clasp of my bra and the straps slide down my shoulders. I help him take it off and he sighs, staring at me with appreciation and longing.