by Alexis Anne
But we seemed to find a balance after that. He didn’t give me a hard time about my clients and I kept my work as far away from him as possible. I didn’t even realize I’d gone right back to the same bad behavior. I thought having more clients, more money, fixed things.
It didn’t.
I was still living my life to keep Tony happy. My life was secondary in every way.
And then we went to the Valentine’s Ball.
I shuddered. I could still feel his hand clamping down on my arm, just above my elbow. The pain that shot down my spine as he yanked me to the car.
“Do you want him? You’re embarrassing me flirting like that right in front of me.”
I wasn’t flirting. I didn’t even know what he was talking about. Nikita Johnson was one of Tony’s partners. I’d spoken to him many times before. Tony didn’t say a word on our way home but his anger was unmistakable. The air heavy with the violence he was about to unleash.
“I was just talking,” I said when were closed up in our penthouse.
“He wanted you. I saw the way he looked at you.” Jealousy dripped from every word.
He pressed me into the wall, ripped my dress off, pawed at my body. “You’re mine,” he sneered.
I did nothing to stop him. I didn’t even protest. Maybe I was in shock. I’d known Tony to be jealous and quick to anger, but never directed at me in such a sudden way before.
He took me hard against the wall. Pushed me to the ground when he couldn’t find relief and shoved his way into my mouth, all while spewing a nonstop stream of hate and anger. Words that cut deep into my own self doubt.
He came and I thought maybe, just maybe this would end, but I was wrong. It only seemed to make things worse. That’s when he hit me, grabbed me, shoved me through the penthouse to our bedroom.
“You hide things from me.” He mounted me, shoved back inside. “You don’t want to be with me. All I want is you. And you? It’s never enough. Nothing I do is ever enough.”
The sex was rough and oddly exciting at the same time. The things he was saying made no sense but they were said with such passion. Such desperation.
I thought it was somehow my fault. I had caused this sudden jealousy.
And when it was over and the pain began to set in, he started crying. Wailing. He was so sorry. He just loved me so much. He was scared I might leave him.
Then he opened the nightstand and pulled out my Valentine’s gift.
An engagement ring.
He couldn’t live without me. He’d do everything to fix the mess he’d made that night.
I said yes.
I had an MBA. I was supposed to be smarter than this.
But I wasn’t.
I stared at the blank legal pad for a long, long time. Reliving the memories. All the nights like that Valentine’s Day. All the times I forgave him. All the times I thought about leaving but never had the courage to follow through.
I picked up my phone and dialed Belle. She picked up almost immediately. “Hey! I was hoping you’d call me back soon!”
“Sorry it took so long.”
“Oh it’s okay,” she giggled. “My brother has never been so nice to me.”
So Belle knew. “Yeah. He had me a bit distracted and then I had some work stuff.”
“I saw that too. I follow all the guys social media but especially Wes. It was a bit of a shock to see my brother shirtless like that at first, but it was so much fun seeing you and your friends that I got over it.”
Yeah, I should have thought about Erik’s siblings being on social media. Too late now. “So now you’re up to date on me. How are your classes?”
“Good. Hard but good. And I took your advice. I’ve been writing every day, even if it’s just for a few minutes. This story is really starting to take shape.”
“I want first dibs on this.” And I meant it. I really enjoyed her fan fiction and the potential was there. All she needed was someone like me to cheer her on and point her in the right direction.
“Oh trust me. I’m not turning down help from the Zoe Hyde. And then when you’re my sister you’ll be forced to help me.”
I choked on my own breath. “Excuse me?”
“Oh come on. You’re head over heels for my brother and he’s nuts about you. Become my sister and make it easy on me to steal advice any time I want.”
“So this is really about you?” I laughed, feeling a little bit less like the world was closing in on me.
“Well of course. I’m glad Erik is happy but now that the two of you have put big dreams into my head I’m being selfish.”
And I couldn’t be happier . . . as long as she steered clear of conversations about marriage for at least a few weeks. “So now that Erik is away and I’m home alone I’ve had a chance to think about our last conversation.” And think and think and think.
Belle had a boyfriend with many similarities to Tony and she encouraged me to confide in Erik.
“Have you told him?” she asked softly.
“Some. Not all.” Honestly, I didn’t know how. I still had a blank sheet of paper in front of me.
“Marco was my first college boyfriend,” she said. “I can say looking back I’m not entirely sure what I saw in him other than he was the exact opposite of my brothers. He was loud and brash. Kind of an asshole. I should have been repelled by him, and today I would be, but at eighteen he was exciting.”
“Are your brothers that overbearing?” Jack was a bit disgruntled but I couldn’t tell if that was a lifelong trait or a recent, divorce-induced, development. And then there was Riley.
“Yes,” she said honestly. “After Dad died they overcompensated, I think. I don’t know, maybe it’s their way of coping. It hit Jack and Erik the hardest because they were teenagers.”
“How long have you been in love with Riley?” It may have been too soon to push a question like this, but Belle and I were developing a brutally honest relationship so it felt like something we should get out in the open.
She huffed. “How long have I been in love with Riley? Too long. He and Jack had been coming home for a few years but I was just a kid. I had an overbearing mother, overbearing brothers. All I saw when Riley came around was another pain in the ass telling me what to do. Until one day,” she laughed and I could picture her smiling and shaking her head. “One day he sees me broken down two blocks from home. I’m about to call Mom for help when he pulls over and offers to look under the hood. He bent over and his shirt rode up, and for the first time I saw him as a man. And I was done for.”
“And how long ago was that?” Were we talking months or years?
“It was four years ago. Right before I started dating Marco.”
Which brought us full circle to the conversation she asked to have with me today. “I don’t want him to see me differently,” I confessed. I saw myself differently every time I thought about Tony, so why wouldn’t he? Why couldn’t I keep what we had safe and special from that drama?
“How do you think Riley sees me? As the victim? As a fuckup?”
“Absolutely not.” Those words didn’t even cross my mind. Belle was young and determined. Period. “He looks at you like you could fly. Like you’re the most amazing woman he’s ever seen.”
“Oh . . . ” she gasped. “Wow. Okay. I was almost positive he liked me and that was why he’s a total dick to me sometimes, but wow. Really?”
“Really. I sat there the whole time we were at dinner wondering if you two were going to leave together so you could make out.”
She sighed. “That has never happened, but now that I know he’s definitely interested I will be putting the moves on him.”
I didn’t understand how she could be so carefree about love after what she’d been through. “Just like that?”
“Well of course,” she giggled. “It’s Riley. He’s one of the best men I’ve ever known. I might be overly fixated on making my own way in the world but I’m not stupid. If he’s interested then I’m available. An
d you shouldn’t be worried about Erik.”
“No?”
“He looks at you like God himself placed you on this earth. He’s not going to see you differently after you tell him. He couldn’t. He’s too in love with the woman you’ve become.”
24
Zoe
Worth It
After my conversation with Belle I did what any good writer does—I spent the next two days writing down what I wanted to say.
It was, shall we say, a disaster.
I cried. I stared at walls. I really hated a lot of things I felt. But in the end I had the story down, a small list, and a couple of heartfelt lines.
And now I was sitting up waiting for him to get home. Well, to my home. Neither one of us wanted to wait until tomorrow even if he was coming in late and exhausted.
“Good night, Erik. Sleep tight,” I heard Roman coo just before the heavy footfalls of two tired people headed upstairs.
I pulled my feet and my wine closer.
Then he stepped inside my open door and I was completely floored by the reality that he was even hotter than I remembered.
“Hey beautiful.”
“Hello handsome.”
The air buzzed like I seemed to remember it buzzing last week, but somehow heavier and hotter. He shut the door, setting his bag against the wall. “You’re still real,” he said, not moving.
“Did you think you made me up?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “A little. Even when Roman said to follow him home and he’d let me in, I thought for sure he was joking.”
My goodness, could he be any cuter? Or any further away? I slid out of bed, setting my wine down on the nightstand before I crossed the room. “I think I missed you.” It was very scary to admit that.
“I know I missed you.” He tugged me against him and I gasped as his arms came around me. “Yeah, that’s how I remember it. You take my breath away too.” And then he kissed me soft and slow on the lips.
The floor seemed to disappear. I thought it was an effect of the kiss—and maybe it was that too—but I was also literally off the ground as Erik picked me up. “What are you doing?” I whispered against his soft lips.
“Getting you closer. You’re never close enough.”
I felt the same way. So I wrapped my legs around his waist. “Let’s get these clothes out of the way then.”
“Yeah?” He sounded unsure. Maybe he thought we might need some reentry time?
But I’d just spent three days alone with my thoughts. I needed to feel something more.
I wanted to feel Erik.
He walked me to the bed. I untangled from his waist and stood. Stripping slowly, our kisses melded into more. Hands, tongues, needs, wants, all frantic until we were moving together, him inside me, and it still wasn’t enough.
“More,” I gasped. “Faster.”
“If I go any faster this will be over, and I’m not ready for it to be over.” He flipped us again, using that move I still couldn’t figure out.
“This is not closer,” I muttered as he nudged my shoulders until I was nearly sitting up.
“It will be in a second. Patience grasshopper.” Then he palmed my breasts.
I hissed, throwing my head back and closing my eyes so I could get lost in the sensations.
He cocked his hips up, kneaded my breasts, rolled my nipples. I ground against him, not really thinking about anything, just moving on instinct.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “I dreamt about you every night.” His left hand caressed every curve from my shoulder to my clit. “I woke up so hard and hugging my cold, sad pillow.”
So hard.
“What did you do?”
He pressed into my clit, massaged it slowly, ran his fingers down my labia and around his cock as I moved up and down his length. “I got in a nice hot shower, lathered up, and closed my eyes. I pretended you were with me. I pictured this. You. Head back, breasts up, skin pink.
My inner muscles fluttered.
“Yes,” he hissed. His fingers clamped around my nipple.
The tug and pull as I rode him sent electric jolts to my core where his other fingers became as wet as his cock. They moved in long lines, then up and around my clit and back again. I took him deep, enjoyed the stretch.
“Damn,” he moaned. “I’m coming.” He grabbed my hips with both hands, pulling me down hard on his cock as he came, his whole body shuddering, his shoulder muscles straining in release.
It was all so erotic, so sexy that, mixed with the kick of his orgasm, I was oh, so close. I spread my legs wider, ground closer, leaned down until our bodies melded together, and came.
“Oh god!” I cried out, my inner muscles clamping hard around him. He still felt like steel. So hard and firm.
I collapsed onto his chest, panting.
“See?” he gasped. “Closer.”
I laughed, causing him to move inside me, sending another, much weaker but still wonderful, cascade of flutters through my core. “Wow.” Would road trip sex always be this intense when he came home? “Confession.”
“Yes?”
“I think I like hearing what you do to yourself when you miss me.”
His hands tightened on my hips again. “Oh really?”
Picturing him in the shower, touching himself, wishing I was there? Hot. “Really. You can bring me home shower stories anytime.”
Suddenly I was on my back again. He pressed into me one last time. “Ditto. Did you have any hot dreams about me while I was gone?”
Oh yes. “I’ll tell you all about them when you’re recovered.”
“I’m recovered now.”
“No you’re not. I promise,” I held up my hand, “to tell you all about my wet dreams next time.”
“You won’t forget them?”
“Nope.” They were too sexy to forget. And I may have, possibly, scribbled a few down to use for future books.
Maybe.
“If you’re sure . . . ”
I kissed him. “When I tell you about my dreams I want you to be able to reenact them.”
His eyes widened. “Well okay then. I guess we better go clean up.”
We hurried through the process in the bathroom and I crawled back into bed first while Erik went to get us water from the kitchen. He set the glass down on the nightstand but I noticed he didn’t move.
I opened an eye and found him standing with his head down, a finger on my notepad, reading. “What’s this?”
I sighed because I was exhausted. “What you want to know.”
He didn’t move but his jaw flexed over and over as he read. “He hurt you like that?” his voice cracked.
“Yes.” The details were there. He understood but I guess needed to hear the confirmation from my lips?
He kept reading. His chiseled chest rose and fell faster the longer he read, then his hand fell to his side. “I’m sorry this happened to you.” He shook his head. “No one stopped him?”
“I think my friends knew what he was capable of but they were the first people I left behind. The only people still in my life when things got bad were Tony’s friends and my family. I don’t think my parents were capable of understanding what he was really like. They couldn’t believe such a successful, prominent man would do such a thing.”
“But you’re their daughter.”
“And I couldn’t bring myself to tell them everything.”
Erik closed his eyes and shook his head. “How did it end?”
I moved to the middle of the bed so he could sit but he refused. “I can’t sit.”
“Because you can’t be near me?”
His eyes went round with shock. “No. God, no. I’m just so angry I need to stand and maybe punch something.”
I thought that was the case but I was in such a weird place I needed to hear him say it. “Okay. Stand then, but if you need to punch something please go outside and do it far away from me.”
I knew Erik would never, ever hurt me but I a
lso couldn’t have anything like that near me. Not right now.
“Yeah.” He came closer and took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Of course.” We traded one of those long, lingering, soul-searching looks before he let go and retreated to his open space near the wall. “Let’s do this. Put an end to Tony Moravek and put his ass in the grave.” He bounced on the balls of his feet kind of like a boxer.
And even though I was exorcizing my demons, I found Erik giving me these quiet little moments of joy. Further proof that he was the man I was eventually supposed to meet.
“The beginning of the end was the day I found out he had a mistress.”
Erik stopped bouncing.
“What the fuck?”
That’s what I thought too. Hating me for talking to a partner but keeping his own little sidepiece? I finally understood that Tony only cared about Tony. “We were engaged and all that time he had a mistress. I later heard he frequently took advantage of any opportunity that might cross his way, but I never had any facts to go with that.”
“Later?”
“I told you once that I was most embarrassed, hated myself the most, because I stayed, right?”
He nodded slowly.
“I stayed after he cut me off from my friends. I stayed after he hurt me. I stayed after I found out about his other life.” And I never really forgave myself for that.
“But why?”
“Because I was scared.” That was the simple, uneasy truth. “My whole life was him. That penthouse. What was I without it? Being with him was terrifying but so was leaving him.”
Erik raked his hands through his hair and paced. “I don’t understand.”
“I packed a bag but I never went through the door because every time I tried I didn’t know where to go. I could not conceive of a life outside that penthouse. How would I feed myself? Where would I live? What would I do? The amount of things I didn’t know crushed me each and every time. I put the bag back. I played my part. But I started planning so that the next time I thought about leaving I had some answers.” It was what finally saved me. I was spiraling fast down a very dark path. I spent days crying. Wondering why I was alive. So alone.