Sullivan has affected me so much and I honestly can’t see my days without her in them. From the first time I saw her at that Christmas party I just knew it would be hard to forget her. Now, I’d have to try my hardest to do so. No way can we get back together. She helped to ruin my family. That’s unpardonable.
“I find it so hard to believe that she’d betray me…you like that,” Diana mulls, shaking her head.
“Mother, let’s not talk about her or anything that happened tonight.” I pinch my nose then yawn, rubbing the back of my neck. I am exhausted.
“Still having trouble sleeping?” Mother asks knowingly.
“Can you tell?”
“Come,” she directs. “Up in bed.”
I lie on the bed and she wraps her arms around me, stroking the top of my head.
“Sleep now, my strong boy,” she coos. “Sleep.”
The comfort of her touch and the soothing flow of her voice gently rocks me to sleep. Big brown eyes stare at me and plump lips smile at me as I drift off into the darkness. Oh, Sullivan…
The next morning I wake with a pounding headache, groaning at the fact that I have to go to work today. It’s going to be a long, rough day, and I pity the fool who crosses me.
After eating the bacon, eggs, waffles and coffee breakfast Mom had prepared, I hop into the shower. I can’t help but remember the shower Sullivan and I had the morning before. The feel of her curves under my hands when I smoothed them down; the feel of her lips all over my body, wrapped around my cock.
It twitches and hardens at the memory. It’s impossible to think of her without having a hard-on. I want her kneeling in front of me while I watch her suck me off. I love the sounds she makes when she does it, like she loves to please me.
And I know she does.
Damn it! Now I’m fucking hard as a rock. I let the water beat on my chest and I stroke my rigid length up and down. Thinking about Sullivan sliding that sexy mouth of hers over my dick ignites me. Pumping my fist faster and harder, I can almost feel her tongue swirl around me. I can hear her sensuous moans of delight as she turns her big brown gaze up to me. I replay images of her taking me as far as she can take me, which is usually right down to the base of my cock. No woman had ever been able to take all of me like that and it was hot as hell watching her do it.
The jerks of my cock become more frantic as I remember her taking my balls in her mouth and stroking me until I begged her to take me back into her mouth. God, she was gifted.
My hold gets tighter around my length and I feel my balls tighten as I approach a climax.
“Fuck,” I grunt, slapping my hand on the wall to bolster me. I release with vicious pumps of my hand and watch as my juices wash down the drain.
That’s when I realize that Sullivan is going to be much harder to forget. Amnesia might not even be strong enough to forget her. Do I even want to forget her? Is this just a phase? Am I just angry? Maybe I need some time to think. She didn’t do anything that terrible, did she?
No. She fucked up. She fucked with my family; helped to break them apart. If she had told me what my scumbag father was up to from the get go, I could’ve protected my mother from being so crudely confronted by his mistress. Just remembering the gutted, devastated look on my mother’s face is enough to further anger me.
How long had she known about the affair? Did she know my father before I’d introduced them?
I gasp as horror takes over. Did she and he…? No. I shake my head at my absurd thought. That is hard to believe.
Whatever, I brush off the thoughts as I start to lather my body.
Fact of the matter is, she knew about my father’s affair and she kept it from me. No way am I going to let her back into my life. Determined not to let Sullivan’s deceit and betrayal get to me, I shower quickly and get dressed quicker.
I’m moving forward.
At work, I’m crankier than I have been in a while. The silliest of mistakes from employees piss me off more than they should, and at every turn, I’m barking at someone. As I sit in my office, I rub at my temples, willing myself to calm down. I have to take a break before I fly off the handle at some poor S.O.B. I’ve barricaded myself in my office all morning to avoid people contact, but it doesn’t seem to be working.
At twelve, I head downstairs to meet up with my brother, Matt, for lunch. I’m glad that Simone isn’t at her station. I don’t have the time or the patience for the questions or to look at the sadness in her eyes from knowing that Sullivan and I are no longer together. I know without a doubt that she’s already cried and blabbed to Simone; but if Simone wants to keep her fucking job, she will do well not to ask me shit about our breakup.
It isn’t any of her business anyway.
“Benny,” Matt calls to me from his car.
“Hey, Matty. I thought we were going to take the Phantom?” I say.
“No, man. You know I hate being driven around. Get in,” he instructs sternly.
Matt does know he’s my little brother, right? With a raised eyebrow, I chuckle at his command, but let him get away with it…this time. Birds of a feather and all that.
Climbing into his sleek Mercedes SL Maxx – that I helped him pick out – we set off for the restaurant, where we drive in silence, except for the loud rock music playing through the speakers. Ramstein is definitely not helping my mood whatsoever, but you don’t change the radio in another man’s car. It’s a cardinal law.
We continue to drive until we come up to Reece’s Hideout, a hole in the wall bar and grille that Matt and I discovered on one of our Sunday morning runs – runs I’d stopped going on when I met Sullivan. I hadn’t even noticed until I looked in the mirror the week before the fated family dinner, and saw that I had a little paunch. Practically unnoticeable, but still I could see it. I was becoming so comfortable with this girl that I hadn’t even missed working out…because I was too busy sweating it out with her.
“I can’t even believe how asinine Dad is,” Matt argues as we sit down to eat our steak lunch, breaking me out of my reverie. When did I order?
“Mom cried so much last night,” I tell him, cutting into my food.
“I can imagine. God, I hate to see her cry. I can’t even tell when the last time was that she did that,” he expresses, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth.
“And you know who I can’t believe? Sullivan. What the fuck was she thinking keeping something like that from me?” I spit, still angry.
“Ben, I don’t even know what that was about, but, I can’t say I agree with you leaving her, man,” Matt counters.
“Excuse me? She betrayed me, Mapollo,” I hiss, using a name he hated me calling him. Whose side is he on anyway?
Mapollo is the childhood name I’d given him when I was eight and he six, which is a mash-up of his first name, Matt, and his middle name, Apollo. It’s childish of me to use it now, but for him to question my judgment really irks me.
“I’m not a kid anymore, Ben. Stop calling me that,” he snaps, slamming his fork down on his plate. “All I’m saying is this: nothing could make me let go of that woman.” He points an angry finger at me. “You had a prize, Ben. A fucking gold mine wrapped in a woman. How the fuck can you even think of releasing her? I’d give anything to possess her and if given the chance, I wouldn’t give a fuck if you fucked her against a tree in the back of my fucking restaurant.”
“You saw us?” I ask, dismay lining my face.
“Yes and what I also saw was how much that girl worshipped you. She’s not some gold-digging broad, Benny. She’s not the usual chicks you date. She’s not Molly,” he answers, bringing up my ex-girlfriend and sub, who everyone thought I’d get married to one day. Even I thought so once.
“I know she’s not Molly. She’s not blonde,” I say grumpily. Why is he even bringing her up?
“I’m not talking about her obvious hair color, genius. I’m talking about––” Matt sighs, seemingly trying to find the words to say. “Ben, she’s precious, but stro
ng. She makes you want to take care of her, but, at the same time, turns around and takes care of you. I don’t know how to explain it. Maybe I’m just rambling because she’s gotten to me, without even getting to me, you know?”
I remain silent. I know exactly what he’s talking about. My sweet, precious girl who demands my strong hand in every way possible. I miss her. No way am I going to let my little brother get what’s mine.
But I’m still too raw. Still too hurt. She tore my family apart and that’s not easily forgivable. In a way, she broke my trust.
“I understand your decision, bro, even if I don’t agree with it,” Matt goes on. “I’d have been pissed the fuck off as well. Livid, but I wouldn’t be for too long. There are ways to exorcise one’s anger, ways that we are both very familiar with.”
I know exactly what he’s talking about and he makes a very valid point.
“So that’s my word of caution to you,” he cuts into my thoughts. “Don’t be so mad that you don’t know when to go back to her. A woman like that is highly desired, and the only reason I haven’t tried to pick her up on the rebound is because you’re my brother.”
I smile genuinely at him because I can’t find a coherent word to say. My head is in a muddle. I need to get out of here.
We eat the rest of our meal in silence then Matt drives me back to the office, in silence.
“Hey, if I offended you back at the restaurant with how I talked about Sullivan, I’m sorry,” he apologizes when I step out of the car. “It’s the truth, but maybe I came across a little too harsh.”
“Well you are a crude fucker, Matt,” I say dryly. “But I needed to hear all that.”
“I’ll swing by to get mom around seven, okay?”
“That’s fine.”
I inhale deeply to gather myself together before heading into Fielding House. A blonde woman passes me and winks as she sashays away from me, getting lost in the mass of people that stroll along the sidewalk. I smile and shake my head. Any other time I would’ve had her in my Fulfillment Room, but not when I’ve found Sullivan. Or lost her. Or…God. I’ll have to figure out what I want and fast, but first I need to know how she is doing.
I walk into the building and spot Simone. I decide to see how much she knows.
“Good day, Mr. Hayes,” she greets, beaming warmly at me.
“Hello, Simone.” I stop by her desk and I see her flush before she looks down at the papers that crowd her desk.
“I haven’t seen you and Sullivan hang out in a while,” I say hoping to get an idea of how much she knows. Based on her answer I’d find out how Sullivan is doing. I have a fear that she isn’t doing too well. More than a fear…
I feel it somehow.
“Well, you’ve been occupying a lot of her time lately. I wonder how you come to work on a daily basis without her shackled to you,” she teases. I guess she doesn’t know about our breakup after all. “She hasn’t even called me in about four days. Have you hid her in some dungeon or other?”
I choke back a laugh. Dungeon? I don’t do dungeons, sweetheart.
But gloom sets in. I wish I had locked her away. That way I’d still have her. That way I wouldn’t be feeling so out of sorts. I really don’t feel like myself and there is only one way to get that control back. Sex. Dominance. Spanking the shit out of a woman – Molly maybe – until her ass is bright red.
I scowl, sliding on my professional mask, to remind Simone of my authority and to end the conversation between us. If Sullivan hasn’t told her that we broke up, neither will I.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Simone withdraws, her face flushing with embarrassment. “Oh,” she speaks up, recovering quickly from her discomfiture. “Mr. Fields wishes to see you immediately.”
What does Artie want now? I square my shoulders, lifting my chest with an air of arrogance. I tell Simone thanks then walk stridently toward the elevators.
I can’t help but think about Sullivan as I ride up to the 25th floor to Artie’s office. Remembering her bent over as I buried myself balls deep into her, sends sensuous shivers down my spine and a twitch in my pants. I groan. I can’t afford to have a hard-on before seeing Artie. I have to pull myself together. Baseball, kissing Grandma Hayes, kissing Fields. I laugh out loud at that thought. I’ll be alright from now on.
The meeting with Artie went thankfully long, but it didn’t stop me from thinking about Sullivan. We discussed the acquisition of Needham Motors as well as the reorganizing of our architecture firm. Every now and then he pulled me back from a reverie that I had no control over falling into, then, finally, we talked about the upcoming investor weekend we had planned.
We needed to secure new investors into the company as well as treat the investors we already had at our disposal to a weekend of appreciation. Didn’t want them backing out because they weren’t being valued. It is to be a two night stay at one of our hotels in Las Vegas, a luxury hotel I helped Fielding House acquire, which was aptly renamed Fielding House Luxury Hotel and Spa. It was a hotel for big spending business men and women and we would definitely be treating them to the finest.
It would be great to bring Sullivan along with me, but that would all depend on whether or not she and I could get back together. In truth and in fact, I’m stubborn and proud. I am not going to be the one to crawl back to her. So if we are going to get back together, she had better call me, groveling, and soon.
“So, how’s that beautiful girl of yours?” Artie asks me as we gather all the documents from the conference room desk.
Damn. I don’t want to get into this conversation, but I knew Artie would’ve asked me about her eventually; if not today, someday. He likes her. Well, who wouldn’t? She doesn’t make it easy to dislike her. Sullivan is beautiful, sexy and thoughtful, so…why did I break up with her again?
“Um, she and I…” I pause not wanting to say the words.
“I thought you guys looked so great together. What happened?” Artie inquires further.
“It’s complicated,” I answer with a sigh.
“Un-complicate it,” Artie commands, heading toward the door.
“Artie it’s done–”
“If you let that girl go for too long, consider her gone. Do you know how many men would kill to be in your place? Me included,” Artie says…as if I don’t already know how much he wants to get into her very sexy lace panties.
“Artie,” I sigh.
“Fix it.” His tone is final as he strides out of the conference room.
I wish it were that easy. Sullivan betrayed me. No way am I going to forgive her that quickly. Then again, no way do I want the likes of Brandon Mayhew sinking his claws into my girl either.
My mind is so befuddled. I can’t concentrate without thinking about Sullivan. I need a distraction.
Chapter Two
Day one without Sullivan was not something I wished to experience again; but here I am, waking up with yet another headache on Day Two without her. I look to my left to see Molly sleeping and I shake my head at how stupid a move it was to invite her over last night and worse, to my Fulfillment Room and now, in my bed.
Molly is the blonde Sullivan hates. She’s easy; eager to get back into bed with me and I hate myself for retreating back to old patterns. Dominating Molly hadn’t brought me the same satisfaction it used to. Being in that room doesn’t bring me the same satisfaction period. Not without Sullivan in it.
I’d told Sullivan that I didn’t want to go back into the Fulfillment Room with her. Not that I didn’t enjoy our time in there together – it was the best time I’d ever had in that room to be honest – but with Sullivan, it seemed I’d found everything I’d ever wanted and searched for, though I wasn’t actually aware that I’d been searching. The Fulfillment Room seemed a bit redundant with her, seeing as she’d already fulfilled all my desires as far as the activities of that room were concerned.
BDSM had always stoked and fulfilled a deep-seated need for me – a kink, thus the creation of my Fulfillment Room.
I have always felt powerful when I was in absolute control and had overpowered the women I fucked; bending them to my sexual will and helping them reach heights of pleasure through pain and through – what others would call – deviant sexual practices. Being with Sullivan, though, satisfied something more deeply buried inside me.
Vanilla sex with her had been the most sexually gratifying experience for me to date, and somehow, with her, I didn’t feel the need for anything more than that. Our times in the Fulfillment room, however, were explosive and I know, without a doubt, that I will never have experiences like that again with another woman.
Now that we’re no longer together, I can’t bring myself to do anything vanilla with Molly. I need the control a flogger gives me, the strength one’s fear gives me when I whip them, the calm that restraining another brings, but I got none of that last night. Fuck Sullivan for getting to me so much. I hate that I can’t get her out of my head.
Why can’t I?
I drag myself wearily out of bed to go catch a quick shower. Turning the water on, I let it beat on my chest and face. The warm water is soothing to my body and I give in to the comfort it brings. The shower door eases open and I open my eyes to see Molly closing us both in. She drops to her knees and she takes me into her mouth, limp and unaroused.
I’m really not interested, my memories of shower sex all-encompassing with Sullivan. She gave the best blowjobs, the best sex, and the best kisses. Oh, those kisses. Those soft, plump lips running a trail on my body. The feel of them on my lips, igniting a fire inside me. Her kisses were flames of passion and when I got them, they set fire to my heart, my soul, my mind…my loins.
Sullivan gave me the best. She was the best. The best I’d ever had or ever came across, but how do I reconcile all of that with her betrayal?
I groan as my thoughts of her spring my sleeping cock to life and I feel Molly’s tongue swish over the bulbous tip. She sucks hard on the head but the effect is again lost on me. Closing my eyes, I start to imagine Sullivan on her knees, looking up at me with those bright brown eyes of hers and smiling as she takes every last inch of me in her mouth. With that, I start growing inside Molly’s mouth, shoving my cock further and further inside.
Broken Love Page 3