by Nikki Chase
I take a sip of water, pausing to contemplate.
“One of my earliest memories is from when I was maybe five or six. I’d been playing in the garden, fallen down and bruised my knee. It wasn’t serious or anything, but it hurt really bad. I went running into the house, crying my head off. My Dad told me to find Mom, she told me to stick a Band-Aid on it and stop whining.
“And that was just kind of . . . how it was. I wasn’t wanted.” I bite my lip, trying not to cry. “I just made their lives more difficult, and I always just fended for myself. As soon as I was old enough to, I moved out. They barely even said goodbye. I didn’t deliberately break off all contact, they just never really cared enough to even call and check how I was doing.”
A horrified look flashes in his face, although he quickly hides it. I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve gotten that reaction before.
That’s why I try and avoid talking about my family if at all possible. They haven’t ever really been a part of my life, and I prefer it that way.
“So you don’t ever see them at all?” Luke asks, trying to sound casual even though I can hear sympathy at the edge of his voice. “Like, not even at Christmas and Thanksgiving?”
“Nope,” I reply. “They started calling me up again a few years back. For a while, I was pleased. I thought that they might have finally realized how horrible they were all those years, and maybe they wanted to make it right.
“But nope. They’d lost all their money in some stupid investor scam, and they were trying to get me to help them out. Guilt tripping. ‘But we’re your parents,’ they said. The whole nine yards.
“I hung up that call, changed my number, and told myself that I’d never talk to them again. Life’s too short, you know?”
My voice wavers on the last line a little, and I feel hot tears rising to my eyes. Damn it. I didn’t want to cry.
Luke, to his credit, offers me a tissue and stays quiet.
“It’s funny,” I say, dabbing my eyes. “I had this whole future planned out and it was so banal. Nothing wild or ambitious or crazy.
“I just wanted to marry an accountant or something, and we’d have our 2.4 children and live in the suburbs. Maybe we’d have a picket fence and he’d play golf on the weekend. I’d potter around in the garden.
“Isn’t that weird? But I had such a dysfunctional childhood, that I just wanted to somehow make that right. Make up for what I never had.”
I glance at him, biting back the story about my first marriage to a mobster. I’ve shown enough crazy for one night.
“I guess it sort of didn’t work out like that though, huh?” I sigh. “Seeing as I ended up getting a shotgun wedding to a billionaire a few hours after meeting him.”
“Well,” he starts, another of those mischievous glints enters his eyes, “it’s not too late for me to retrain, you know? I could be a certified accountant in a year or two, and I’m sure at least one of my companies could find me a place in the accounts department.
“I could stop going to the gym, start drinking more beer, build up that Dad bod. I’m sure my budget can extend to a modest house in the suburbs, and I’ll trade in the Porsche for something more modest like a Honda. Plenty of space for the hypothetical dog we’ll need in there.”
I laugh despite the dampness in the corners of my eyes. Luke cracks me up, and once again I marvel at just how much I like him, being around him and spending time with him.
This is dangerous. I can’t get too close, or it’s only going to make it more difficult to do what needs to be done when the time comes.
It’s only a week or so now until I’ll have been resident in Colorado long enough to start the annulment process. And despite this trip, and the revelations about Luke, I’m still one-hundred percent certain that it’s what I need to do.
Luke
We’re back on the private jet after the most enjoyable day and evening in Paris.
I’m so pleased that I took her, and glad that she felt comfortable enough to open up a little to me. It was like she let her guard down, even if it was just a little.
I’m starting to see little signs that she might be wavering on the whole annulment thing, but it’s still too early to really say. Every time she talks, she says that she still wants to go ahead with it, but her body language, and the way she responds to me, tells me that she’s not being entirely honest with herself about her feelings.
I mean, how can she have such a good time with me, open up to me like that, and still think that what we have isn’t even worth giving a shot?
She’s sitting opposite me on the plane, sipping on soda water again, her beautiful eyes heavy-lidded.
It’s late—I need to be back at InFini in the morning, so we didn’t even get to stay the night in those ridiculously plush suites at the hotel.
“Are you about ready to crash?” I ask. “It’s been a long day, huh?”
She yawns. “Maybe. I’m so buzzed from it all that I don’t think I can, though. I mean, I still can’t believe you took me on a day trip to Paris. There in the morning, home at night. That’s just . . . nuts.”
“I would have loved for us to stay the night there, but I’ve got to be at work in the morning. I guess you could’ve stayed and I’d send the jet back for you, but—”
“No,” she interrupts. “No special treatment. I’m your PA and we work together. I’m sure you’ll need me in the morning.”
Forget about the morning, I need you right fucking now—but probably not in the way you have in mind.
Her hair is a little frazzled and she looks tired as hell, but she is still just utterly, drop-dead gorgeous. She rests her glass of soda water and tries to sleep, but she keeps jerking awake whenever her head droops.
There’s nothing I want more than to reach out and pull her into an embrace. I manage to hold myself back, but only for a few minutes.
I walk over and sit next to her, telling myself that I should back off but I just can’t. I want her too much. I need her too much.
“Thanks for today, Luke,” she says. “Really. And not just for the restaurant and the private jet. For . . . listening, you know? For being there.”
“Anytime, Tess, and I really mean that. I’m here for you.”
She rests her head on my shoulder and we spend the rest of the flight like that, just dozing and being with each other.
I can’t remember the last time I felt so . . . content. At peace.
A few short hours later, we’re standing outside her apartment.
It’s dark and a little chilly. She’s not really dressed for it, still in the dress from dinner. She shivers and wraps her arms around herself. We’re both sort of standing here awkwardly, neither wanting to make the first move to leave.
I’ve had such a good time with Tessa and I don’t want it to end. I want to follow her upstairs to her apartment and take her, claim her as my own.
But I’m not going to push her. She’s deciding this one, she’d made that much clear.
I guess I’ll just have to resign myself to that, which is kind of tough because I’m so accustomed to calling the shots in my life. Nobody tells me no. Ever. What I want, I get.
I’ve never wanted anything more than I want her right now. But it’s not up to me.
We’re staring into each other’s eyes, sparks flying . . . and eventually she breaks the spell.
“You’d better come up for some coffee,” she says. “I’d feel bad sending you home right now, so tired like this. I wouldn’t want you falling asleep at the wheel of that monstrosity. I’d be out of a job, for one thing, and I need the money.”
She grins at me and leads the way upstairs. My heart is pumping like I’m a horny teenager. I feel faintly ridiculous, but she really does have this effect on me.
Cool your jets, kid. She’s going to make you some coffee and send you on your way. Don’t get your hopes up.
We go into her apartment, where she makes some coffee while I perch on her couch and try my best not
to think about pulling that dress off with my teeth, slipping my hand between her legs and . . .
Fuck. I’m hard already. Pull it together, dude.
She comes and sits next to me, smiling, and offers me a mug of dark, steaming coffee.
“Thanks,” I rasp. It’s about all I can manage.
The way her hair has fallen around her shoulders now she’s let it down, the way the dress is slipping just a little off her shoulder . . .
She’s noticed me watching her and she isn’t doing anything to dissuade me. In fact, she shuffles a little closer, tucks her hair behind her ear . . . and that does it for me. That one little gesture pushes me over the edge.
Before I realize what I’m doing, my lips are on hers and my hands are roving all over her body. I’m half-expecting a slap, and for her to tell me that I need to get out . . . but it doesn’t happen. She’s kissing me back and her hands are clutching my biceps.
I tilt her head back just a little, exposing the creamy, soft skin of her neck. I lean in to kiss her there and she moans—it’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life.
My teeth nibble at her sensitive skin softly and I can feel her hips arching, her heavy breathing urging me on. Her hands are running up and down my back.
I lean back on the couch, pulling her down with me so that she’s laying on top of me. We pause for just a moment, her hair cascading around her face, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” My voice is hoarse with my lust for her. I curse myself for asking. What am I doing? Why am I cock-blocking myself? But I hear myself continue, “I don’t want you regret this. I don’t want you to feel like you’re making another mistake.”
She looks down at me for just a split second. “Shut the hell up and take off your damn pants.”
My cock twitches, and my chest fills with heat. She wants me. She’s finally admitting it to herself.
And damn, I don’t need telling twice. I’m already as hard as a diamond. But I can’t give her the satisfaction of bossing me around like that.
“Nah,” I growl. “Not yet.”
Our lips meet again, her sweet aroma and her hair filling my senses. She kisses me back, desire overtaking her quickly fading nervousness.
I have her right where I want her.
I tug at the straps of her dress, and they come away easily. She shrugs her way out of it, letting the garment fall to the floor.
She’s wearing nothing much underneath, just her bra and panties hiding her sweet, soft curves.
I gently bite her bottom lip and she moans again at the sensation, making my cock strain almost painfully against my pants.
I reach behind her and fumble with the clasp of her bra, throwing it over my shoulder. I grab her tits, tweaking her nipples gently as she studies me, mouth open and eyes half closed.
Hooking my fingers into the waist of her panties, I yank them off of her. She sighs with desire at my obvious desire, her eyes heavy and pleading.
I somehow get even harder at the sight of her pink, hard nipples. They’re just begging for me to take them into my mouth.
“You should take something off, Luke. I want to see you,” she whispers.
I don’t respond—too distracted—and pull her legs apart instead, admiring her thighs and the sweet mound her now-naked pussy, glistening with her desire.
She opens her legs invitingly, arching her hips towards me.
It takes every ounce of willpower I have, but I force myself to deny her the pleasure of my tongue, and instead pull her down against me, feeling the warmth of her body through my clothes.
I grind my hips into hers, my hard cock pressing against her pussy through my pants. She gasps and presses right back, her need for me just as great as mine for her.
Why has she been denying herself this all this time?
I grab her naked breasts again, delighting in the contrasting feel of her soft skin and hard nipples. I lean up and suckle at one of her breasts, my tongue dancing across the erect peaks. She moans, her hand grabbing at the back of my head, pulling me into her, urging me on.
Reaching down, I seeking her wetness with my hand. She parts easily at my touch, hot and wet with desire. I touch her gently at first, and she sways her hips in time with my finger as I rub her clit in a circular motion.
“Oh, Luke . . .” she moans, eyes clenched as waves of pleasure overcome her.
She gasps in pleasure and pain as I push my fingers roughly into her, taking her by surprise, claiming her body as my possession. She’s frowning, face contorted by arousal as she watches my hands and mouth work on her.
I let her enjoy the pleasure for a while before stopping suddenly, rolling her over onto her back, and standing up.
I unzip my pants and let them drop to the floor. The relief is immense as I tug my underwear off, my erection springing free.
I’m so hard for her, so ready to have her, to claim her as my own.
I turn her roughly around and lean forward to kiss her neck.
“Hands on the couch,” I order, my voice hoarse. My cock pulses as it brushes her naked ass, twitching with the sensation.
She turns to look at me over her shoulder. “Take me, Luke. Take me now.” Her voice is thick, and I can tell I have her now.
There’s no turning back, no denying it. I open her thighs from behind, pushing her feet apart. I can see her glistening entrance, just begging me to slide right inside.
She moans as her I tease her pussy with my cock, rubbing it gently against her.
“Just fuck me,” she gasps, pleading. “Take me now, please.”
I push myself into her and she lets out a soft scream. I fuck her slowly at first, teasing. When she tries to raise her body, I press my hand on her back, letting her know who’s in control here.
I hold myself back for as long as I can, but it isn’t long before I give myself in to the animalistic desire to fuck her as hard as I can.
I grunt, wincing at the pleasure in my throbbing cock as I start to fuck her deeper, my hips slapping against her ass. She’s writhing and moaning, my hard shaft filling her right to the brim.
She moans louder, her sexy voice echoing off the walls of the mostly empty apartment. I don’t care if we’re loud. Let the neighbors hear. Let them know she belongs to me now. The thought turns me on, spurs me forward.
I give myself over to pleasure, forgetting self-control as I thrust into her. She screams, and I feel her body convulse, my hands on her hips for leverage as I fuck her as deep as I can. Her breasts bounce in time with my thrusts.
Her pussy twitches and pulses as she climaxes, and she tries to stifle the loud moans she lets out, knees shaking as the waves of pleasure take over her.
I gasp as I reach the point of no return, slowing my thrusts as I sense my orgasm building. My cock throbs as I slam inside her, waves of pleasure spreading through my balls and cock and into my stomach as I convulse in ecstasy, knees weakening as the orgasm overtakes me.
“Oh, fuck, Luke. Fuck…” she moans between gasps as our orgasms began to fade.
She’s still leaning forward against the edge of the couch, this time out of choice. She’s spent, weak and shaky with the force of her climax.
I gasp for air. My knees are shaking and weak, the aftershocks of my orgasm still pulsing through me in tiny electric spurts.
After a second, she turns to face me. A smile plays across her lips and her eyes are heavy lidded—she’s satisfied.
“You know what?” I ask. “I’ll have to fly you to Paris more often if the day’s going to end like this every time.”
She slaps me hard against the chest and rolls her eyes. “Shut up, idiot.”
We don’t move from the couch. I just lay down behind her and wrap my arms, encircling her. There’s a blanket and I pull it over us as we drift off to sleep.
It feels so perfect, being with her. Maybe she’s finally realized that it’s worth giving us a shot.
; I fall asleep with that thought on my mind and smile on my lips.
Tessa
I’m on the couch.
Did I fall asleep on the couch?
A heavy, muscular arm is draped over me. My bare skin.
I’m naked.
There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach. I know who it is. I remember what happened this time. No booze, no excuses.
Luke’s still asleep, snoring lightly. I roll over and stare at him—he looks so peaceful, he even has a little smile on his face. It’s kind of cute . . . except we should never have done that.
Tessa, you idiot, what were you thinking?
I gingerly disentangle myself from Luke, cursing my weak will and my stupid, impulsive behavior. I really don’t want to wake him.
He stirs just a little as the warmth of my body leaves his side, but thankfully doesn’t fully wake. I stare at him for a few seconds more before padding silently away to the bathroom.
I lock the door behind me and fix myself with a glare in the mirror. Turns out you don’t even need alcohol to make terrible decisions. You idiot.
How am I ever going to end this marriage if I keep on encouraging him like this? And it’s not even like I didn’t want him.
To be honest, in any other situation, I would be thrilled. The sex was good. Better than good, actually. It was like our bodies were made to fit together. He’s a great guy who makes me feel special—not to mention, he’s hot as all hell.
But I should have just sent him home. A night of passion is not worth jeopardizing my future, and my baby’s future. No matter how well-endowed he is, and how amazing it feels.
I sigh. How many other women has he done this whole routine with? Probably too many to count, based on how often he’s in those glossy mags.
A big flashy gesture, sex, and then he moves on once he gets bored. That’s his MO.
Sure, he seems genuine, maybe he even feels like it’s genuine . . . but I can’t ignore his past. Everything points to him being a serial dater.