by A. L. Zaun
How much loss am I supposed to endure? I need to stop the pain. I need to forget.
Alex and I fucked early that morning. I’d made love and had sex before, but that was the first time I’d fucked and been fucked. There was something liberating about the primal act. I’d felt a sense of power and control as I teased and led the sensual game. I’d never asked how he had known I would be there hours before anyone was scheduled to arrive. I didn’t care. For that hour or so we’d been together, I hadn’t felt anything but the sensual thrill coursing through my body. The erotic tension exploding in orgasmic bliss had caused a numbing sensation to overcome me, and for a while, I had forgotten about the pain and the loss.
We had a mutually beneficial understanding—no attachments. It had worked for us. If he was in town or vice versa and the mood struck, we’d hook up. If we didn’t see each other, neither one of us cared. We’d never dated, slept over, shared a meal, or had much of a conversation with one another. The kiss we’d shared that first time was the only one between us. I’d known him for most of my life, but I barely knew who he was. I had no desire to inquire. Frankly, I’d never really liked him. Although, I had to admit he could fuck, and that was probably the only allure to him.
I could easily let him numb the ache and dull the pain I was feeling now, but the thought of his familiar touch made me cringe for no other reason than he wasn’t Rick.
Alex caressed my cheek with the back of his hand. I tensed and turned my face away from him.
“Now, Madison, is that any way to greet an old friend?” he asked, leaning in closer and bringing his hand down my neck.
Straightening my shoulders, I reached my hand up and removed his from my body. I turned and said, “You startled me.”
“You’re not going to let me touch you?” he challenged, running his fingers along the arm of my chair.
“No, Alex, I don’t want you touching me.” I shifted in my seat as I looked down at my watch to check the time. “What are you doing in Miami anyway?”
He stretched out his legs in front of him. “You don’t know why I’m here?” he asked in a condescending tone then laughed.
“Why would I know?” I glanced over at him, confused. “I haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving.”
“Ah, Thanksgiving.” That look in his eyes told me he was remembering. “How did things turn out with your boy toy? You left me with a hard-on because, what? You suddenly grew a conscience?” He chuckled.
“I changed my mind. I wasn’t in the mood anymore.” I tilted my face toward him, keeping my expression smooth. “I’m sure you didn’t miss a beat. I’m sure you found someone to take care of your dick.”
“True, but you teased me with your pussy and left me hanging. Now, I have a craving for you.” His fingers inched closer to my arm. “It must be my lucky day, seeing you here.”
I exhaled, exhausted by this bullshit. “You’ve been in Miami. I’m sure if you had an insatiable hunger that only my pussy could satisfy, you would have called, so cut the crap. Regardless, I’m not interested.” I ran my hands along my slacks. “I am, however, slightly curious about why you’re here.”
“I’m not sure what I would enjoy more right now—fucking you from behind in the restroom while I watch you in the mirror, coming, or telling you the good news.”
I rolled my eyes. “Forget I asked. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to check on my flight.”
As I started to stand, Alex reached over and pulled me back into my seat.
“Don’t touch me.” I yanked my arm away from him. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit. Get out of my way.”
He shifted in his seat, leaning toward me. This was his way of trying to intimidate me. I had to hand it to him—this was an unpleasant but welcomed distraction from my melodrama.
I was dead tired. I hadn’t gotten home until after three in the morning. I’d spent another half hour making flight arrangements and packing quickly. With only a few hours of sleep, I was both physically and emotionally drained. I didn’t have the energy to deal with Alex’s games. So, I dug in deep and pulled out all my resources. I knew his game well. He was trying to fuck with my head, and that was something I couldn’t afford. I steadied my gaze and slowed my breathing.
Give me your best shot.
He shifted in his seat and leaned toward me, resting on his elbow. “I’m guessing by the way you’re dressed you’re headed back to New York to see old man Mark. Does he still think you’re his little princess? Or has he gotten wind of your extracurricular activities?” He gave me a cocky grin. “I suppose the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re a little whore, just like mommy. I’ll give you this much, you do fuck a lot better than she does—”
“Excuse me,” interrupted Tiffany, the perky attendant. “I’m so sorry to disturb you. I brought you a fresh kettle for your tea.”
I tilted my head up to her and smiled as I reached for the small kettle and tea bag. “Thank you. Would you happen to know when Flight 1137 is departing?”
She pulled out a small tablet from her pocket before looking over at me. “The aircraft did land, but it hasn’t arrived at the gate. I’ll let you know when you’re able to board.”
When she left, I returned my gaze to Alex and gave him my best ‘you haven’t fucked with me’ smile. “As always, you’re the romantic. My god, talk about foreplay and panty-dropping lines. You call me a whore and enlighten me about fucking my mother. If I were slightly interested in taking you up on your offer, for old time’s sake, I sure as hell don’t want to now. You’re disgusting.”
“Madison, why are you being so difficult?” He scoffed, amused. “First, you deny me on Thanksgiving, and now, you won’t let me touch you. The first time, I let you use me as part of that little game you were playing with that guy. I didn’t appreciate the tease though. It’s never been your M.O. So, it’s my turn now, and I want you to let me fuck you.”
“Go to hell, Alex,” I said in a slow, steady voice. “I fuck who I want, when I want. Newsflash—I don’t want to fuck you.”
“Is this your new little game with me? Because I can play along. See, I’m going to fuck you today. We can go to the restroom now, or I can fuck you on the airplane or I can fuck you tonight.” His eyes narrowed and he warned. “Deny me once but not twice.”
I snaked my arm through the shoulder strap of my purse, grabbed my coat, and reached for the kettle of hot water. I dumped the contents on his crotch. “Get out of my fucking way.”
“You little bitch,” he seethed, grabbing my arm. “You want to know why I’m in Miami? Because Donovan’s is mine. I was looking at properties. You handed it to me on a silver platter. Do you think Mason or even Patrick were ever going to let you have it?” He laughed with contempt in his eyes. “No, Madison. Maybe we’ll just have to phase out your little lounge, and then you can come and work for me.”
Alex had gone for the jugular. Goddamn Mason and my father. Goddamn all of them. They set me up, those motherfuckers. After all the research, market analysis, networking events, and establishing relationships in the area I’d done, they never had any intentions for having me spearhead and run Donovan’s Steak House in Miami. Laying my claim on my legacy was the one thing I had left.
I turned toward Alex, and our eyes met. “You can take Martini Bar, Donovan’s, and whatever else you want, but you’ll never have me.” I started walking away.
“Madison,” he called out, “maybe Mark should know who you really are. You can dress like Rose all you want, but you’ll never be able to cover up being a whore. He might be blinded by his affections, but he’s a smart man. All he needs is some clarity on the situation. Then, he’ll be disgusted with you, just like everyone else is. You’ll be alone. But hey, I’ll still fuck you.”
I stopped and whipped around, making sure he felt every ounce of the deadly glare in my eyes. “Is that the best you can do?” I asked with a tiny curl of my lip. “Tell him whatever you want. You don’t own me or control wha
t I do.”
I straightened my shoulders, and with my head held high, I walked straight out of the Admirals Club and to my gate. I silently prayed to a God I’d never called on before to please not have Alex sitting next to me on the airplane. I could only take so much. My emotional reserves were running dry. I was on empty.
The only positive thing I saw was that Alex had laid his cards on the table. He could be bluffing. I sat down and fished in my purse for my phone. I needed to call my grandfather and find out. I stared at the screen long and hard. If I turned it on, I would potentially have to deal with yet another disappointment.
I was too tired for all of this. I tossed my phone back into my purse, closed my eyes, and concentrated on my breathing while I waited for boarding to begin.
Chapter 4
Rick
Thank God for valet service.
I tossed my keys to the attendant and walked in through the automatic doors. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. I only knew I had to get to her. If that asswipe, Bruce, was right and she’s done with me, then she can tell me to my face. The Madison I knew wouldn’t just take off. She would send me to hell first and then make some theatrical exit. What the fuck happened between warm chocolate pudding cake and this morning? I hadn’t had a chance to fuck anything up.
I wasn’t sure what I had expected to find on a Saturday morning at Miami International Airport. The crowd of people huddled in clusters with some sitting on the floor wasn’t it. I felt the tension squeezing the muscles in my neck, shoulders, and back. At every turn, I was encountering one surprise after another like opening Pandora’s Box. I hate fucking surprises.
I had been traveling more than usual over the past couple of years for work, so I’d gotten to know this airport like the back of my hand. There was no way I would get through security without a ticket. I rubbed my face with my uninjured hand, contemplating my next move.
I turned around and faced the automatic doors, knowing if I walked through them, whatever this was between Maddy and me would be over before it started. I glanced over my shoulder at the ticket counter, embracing the realization that I was entertaining the idea of joining the pussy-whipped, motherfucking, tampon-wearing team of dickless sons of bitches. I shook my head at the conclusion—my pride was easier to swallow than the bitter pill of regret. If this wasn’t proof I was a better man, then I didn’t fucking know what would be.
I could have easily tossed back that Black Label that Bruce had poured for me. The warm amber liquor could have slid down my throat and eased the tension from my body. With one drink, I could have just gone back to the way things were before I met her.
Instead, I turned around and made my way to the ticket counter. I was very relieved when I saw that the first class line was empty. Better yet, Kristina was the ticket agent. Like most women, she had come on to me. She would find a way of squeezing her tits together to make them look bigger in her one-size-too-small blouse while typing away on her keyboard. On a couple of occasions, she’d dropped the idea of having drinks. While she wasn’t my type, I had worked it to my advantage every single time. She looked over at me with a sex-kitten smile. I walked to the counter and leaned up against it.
“Good morning, Kristina with a K,” I greeted with my signature smile.
She subtly licked her lower lip. “It’s a good morning now, Rick Marin. How can I assist you today?
“How about drinks when I get back into town?” I winked, and she giggled like an idiot. “I need to get on Flight 1137 to LaGuardia.”
She started typing on her keyboard while biting her lower lip and pressing her tits together.
So predictable.
She looked up and said, “Sorry, that flight’s delayed, and I can’t sell you a seat, but I can get you on the next flight that’s actually on time.”
“No!” I snapped.
Her eyes widened.
I gripped the counter, trying to remain calm as best as I could. “Sorry, I have to be on that flight. Work your magic. Whatever it takes. I need to be on Flight 1137.”
“How about dinner instead of drinks?” she asked as she casually ran her hand down the front of her blouse.
“A night on the town.” I smiled. “Just do whatever you have to do to get me on that plane.”
“Okay, I can get you on the flight. There’s plenty of room. First class, right?” With a look of determination, her fingers tapped feverishly against the keyboard.
“Only the best.” I struggled as I pulled out my wallet from my back pocket. My hand is fucking killing me. I handed her my driver’s license and credit card.
“Do you want a window or an aisle? It’s pretty open,” she asked, batting her fake eyelashes before she began typing away again.
“I need the seat next to Madison Stuart.”
Her hands came to an abrupt stop as her eyes shifted up, and she raised an eyebrow. “Oh.”
“Don’t be jealous.” I winked, thinking fast on my feet. “She’s a business colleague. Make sure to book me on the red-eye back to Miami on Monday morning, and make dinner reservations wherever you want for us.”
And just like that, I had my ticket in hand.
I ran over to La Carretta, a Cuban Restaurant. This stop was part of my strategic plan to bypass the long lines at the security checkpoint.
“Dulce, buenos dias.” I again flashed my signature smile and added a wink to the older woman behind the counter.
She was wearing her white guaybera shirt and her own impish grin.
“Hallow, Reek. I no see ju en long tie,” she said in her broken English. “I lean Engleesh.”
“You’re speaking it beautifully.” I gave her my best salesman’s bullshit smile.
She beamed before I continued with my order.
“Me das un cortadito y un pastelito de carne.”
On my way to the restaurant, I’d noticed Tashica manning the security line. Like all women, I had found her sweet spot, which happened to be an espresso mixed with a splash of milk and a meat pastry. If I added a little flirting, it would get me to the front of the line. Dulce handed me the white bag with the goods.
“Gracias,” I said, thanking her.
Madison was right—manners do go a long way.
With my bribe in hand, I weaved in and around people blocking my path. Damn, don’t these people have a fucking plane to catch? I made my way to the voluptuous beauty, who was shaking her head when she saw me approaching.
“Well, look who we have here.” She pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips.
“Hello, gorgeous.” I leaned in and kissed her cheek as I handed her the bag. “A little something to brighten your morning.”
“Child-boo, I don’t think so. You can’t come here and flash those pearly whites and hand me my favorite food. I am not for sale.” She snapped her fingers across her body.
“Tash, I love a woman with attitude. Come on, help a brotha out,” I said, looking from side to side.
She must be fighting with her husband. Otherwise, she would have already walked me up front.
“Please? For me?”
“You and that dimple. You gonna let me do a body search?” She flirted innocently as she felt my biceps. “Damn, do women even stand a chance with you?”
“There’s only one woman who holds my fate in her hands.”
She opened the bag in slow motion. Smiling, she shook her head. “Mmhmm, laying it on thick. You must really be in a hurry.”
What gave her that impression? The fact that I was fidgeting and about to come out of my skin?
“Will you help me?” I pouted and added a little shoulder shrug for effect.
“Let’s go, and next time, don’t wear that cologne. Boy, you have me hot and bothered. Damn, you smell something fierce. My man has no idea what’s in store for him when I get home.”
I suddenly felt like I had the home court advantage, and I’d momentarily forgotten I was pissed-off as shit at Madison for leaving without saying a fucking
word.
***
After climbing the equivalent of four flights of stairs and running a mile, I saw the sign for gate forty-seven up ahead. I slowed down to catch my breath. My hand was pulsating, and I was having trouble making a fist. Fuck, I hope it’s not broken. I grabbed a napkin from the Starbucks kiosk and wiped my face. I tossed it into the trash as I hurried over to the gate. Please let Kristina have thought I was really going to take her out.
“Boarding all rows for Flight 1137 to New York,” sounded over the loud speakers.
Is she on the plane or waiting to board? Am I actually going to fly to fucking New York? How much did I pay for this goddamn ticket anyway? These were the thoughts running through my head as I got closer to the gate. I hadn’t really thought this through. Madison would not be surprised. She had accused me of that earlier with Daniela. The truth was I was more of an action kind of guy. I figured things out on the fly. Right now, I needed a plan.
I looked over at my ticket and saw I’d paid a thousand one-hundred and twenty-seven dollars and thirty-five cents for my first class round-trip ticket to New York. My stomach dropped, and I felt the café con leche I’d had earlier that morning with Daniela churn in my stomach. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’d just shelled out over a thousand dollars on a woman who took off without telling me. I’m a fucking loser. I can’t believe this shit. I shoved the ticket into my jacket pocket, and whatever lapse in memory I’d had about being pissed at Madison, it was now at the forefront of my brain.
I shook my head in disgust as I realized I couldn’t even say I was pussy-whipped. No, I was pussyless-whipped. She drove me fucking nuts. This, right now, was a prime example of her fucking bullshit. She could have told me while she was shoving chocolate cake into her mouth that she was taking off. But I’m the selfish asshole. All the damn hoops she’d had me jump through for the past three months were just her way of controlling me.
One thing I was damn sure of, I had graduated the Madison Stuart School of Castrating Rick with a big fat A-plus because right now, she had my dick in her fucking hand and was waving it in my face. But, I’d come this far, and I needed to see this through to the end to reclaim it.