It's Not Over

by A. L. Zaun

  The sound of her name coming from his mouth shot an involuntary surge of rage to pulsate through my veins. My jaw clenched. My shoulders knotted tightly. My nostrils flared. I saw red every time I was around this motherfucker. I’d never liked him. Now, I fucking hated him.

  One. Two. Breathe. Three. Four. Five. Breathe.

  “Yes, she certainly has. Five minutes” —I glanced down at my watch. Any longer with him, and I might be dragged out of here in handcuffs— “Actually, I only have four minutes,” I clarified with a nod of my head. “I have places to go, people to see.” I returned my deadly glare to him. “And much better things to do.”

  “Three minutes is all the time you’ll get from me,” he said arrogantly, leading me to his office through a set of doors hidden in the paneling of the wall.

  I walked in behind him.

  “Take a seat or stand.” He motioned to the armchair across from his desk.

  Assess your surroundings. “Nice office. Not what I imagined though. It looks more in line with Mark.”

  Even though I didn’t have much time, I sat down, propping my elbows on the armrest and steepling my fingers. The images he’d sent of Madison—her naked body and legs spread-eagled. Her tits, pussy on display. Her being fucked on her back, on all fours, against a counter—flashed before me.

  Stay in control.

  “I doubt you’re here to admire the design decisions behind my office décor. What do you want?” He casually poured himself a drink before he sat down in his chair, seemingly bored.

  He probably had no fucking clue why I was here.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.” I narrowed my eyes, watching him swirl his drink like an arrogant son of a bitch.

  “I want a lot of things.” He took a long swig of his drink. “You need to be a little more specific since the clock is ticking, and frankly, I don’t find you so interesting that I’d want to have a long, drawn-out philosophical conversation on wants.”

  “I want you to back the fuck away from Madison,” I deadpanned, cocking my head to the side.

  He scoffed, placing the glass on the desk. “Why would I do that? I like to fuck her. In fact, I like it when she fucks me right here on this chair.” He reclined, bringing his arms behind his head, and he looked up at the ceiling. “Actually, I love it when she hikes up her skirt and sits on my desk.” He turned his eyes on me. “Well, you get the point.”

  He was hitting below the belt, and he knew it. My fists clenched, and I pressed my elbows into the armchair as another surge of rage almost propelled me across that cocksucker’s desk. I wanted to rip his head off, but somewhere deep inside my brain, I could hear her telling me, Do not react. I wasn’t exactly sure how I was supposed to do that because it went against the fury ready to erupt out of me.

  “Because you’re playing a game you’ll never win,” I said, surprisingly almost like an afterthought. I continued looking around the room, noticing the artwork and awards, while practicing the breathing exercises Madison had taught me from yoga.

  He smiled smugly. “I always get the prize.”

  I knew men like him. I rubbed shoulders with them on a daily basis. I knew exactly what he wanted, and there was no way in hell he was getting it.

  “Man to man, this isn’t about fucking her. This isn’t about a job. This is about her. No pussy is worth this much aggravation unless you want the woman. Do whatever the fuck you want, but you aren’t going to get her.” I looked down at my watch. “She’s mine.”

  He polished off the rest of his drink in one swig. “I’m in no rush. I’ve been fucking her for nine years. She’ll get bored of you and come back to the cock she knows will satisfy her.”

  I kept my face impassive. “I have to go. She’s waiting for me.” I headed to the door and turned back to him for one more second. “By the way, the pictures. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? There’s nothing like having her look into your eyes when she’s coming and calling out your name, digging her nails into your back because she can’t get close enough to you. The next time you jerk off to them, like the sick bastard that you are, notice how she doesn’t look at you. She’s mine, motherfucker, and you’re going to have to fucking kill me to get her.” Check-fucking-mate.

  He laced his fingers together and stretched his arms in front of him. “I have no problem taking down anyone who stands in my way.”

  “Neither do I,” I replied with conviction and shut the door behind me.

  What a motherfucking asshole.

  I made my way back through the restaurant and waved at the host as I walked out the front door. The abrupt contrast of the comfortable temperature inside to the stark chill on the street hit me like a brick. It was my wake-up call.

  That motherfucker messed with the wrong asshole. Score, Rick fucking Marin.

  I meant every single word I said to that cocksucker, but it was in that moment when our eyes met that reality struck me. She’s the real thing.

  She stood next to the open door of the car with her arms crossed. Her hair hung loose at her shoulders, and a lock fell across her face. She had her don’t-fuck-with-me look with her chin tilted up just a bit, her ice-cold eyes glared at me, and her mouth pursed in her badass pout.

  She’s a complete and total turn-on, and she’s mine.

  I moved toward her with a confident swagger in my step, unable to take my eyes off of the woman staring me down. Tilting my head to the side, I was able to get the full impact of her presence. I could tell that my little control freak wasn’t too happy as she tapped her foot on the sidewalk. A quick reference to my Madison Stuart School of Castrating Rick manual would indicate that I’d broken a few of her rules. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

  “Are you done with your He-Man show of testosterone?” she asked, raising her eyebrow.

  “Nope.” I tucked the dangling hair behind her ear and then slid my hand behind her head. “Just getting warmed up.”

  Lowering my mouth over hers, I kissed her, sucking on her lips. Her arms relaxed, her hands resting on my chest, and I pulled her in closer.

  She smiled over my lips. “Your alpha, dominant caveman bullshit better stop.”

  “Babe, you haven’t seen anything yet,” I said, tugging on her hair. “I want you so fucking bad right now. I might throw you over my shoulder. Oh wait, I already did that.”

  “You’re going to have to learn self-control and patience.” She smiled, pinching me. “Just because—”

  “Get in the car.”

  I led her with determination into the backseat. She scooted back against the door, keeping her hooded eyes on me. Biting her lower lip, she reached out for me. I crawled and moved over to her lithe body.

  “What were you saying?” I asked.

  Our lips met in a kiss as her body rubbed up against mine.

  “Something about patience?” I added.

  She pulled herself up, pushing me into my seat. Her tolerance level for letting someone else be in charge had expired.

  “Self-control,” she reminded me as she straddled my legs.

  Her eyes shimmered while her hands wrapped around my neck. Her hips settled right over my very hard and throbbing dick. I didn’t care who was on top. I didn’t care that we were in a car with Nelson in the front seat, probably getting his own hard-on. I didn’t care about anything that I’d said last night about not fucking in the car. At that very moment, I wanted to slide my dick inside her. It was quickly growing from a want to a need as my balls tightened while she swayed against me.

  “Tell me what happened inside,” she prodded.

  “I want to be inside you,” I growled, thinking of how good her pussy had felt against my dick. I untucked her top and ran my hands over the creamy skin of her waist and up her back.

  “Focus,” she said, cupping my face as her thumbs teased my lips.

  “Maddy,” I said, rocking my throbbing dick against her, “I defended your honor.”

  Her eyes
crinkled as she smiled. I watched in amazement as her movements and expressions changed from my sex-goddess vixen with storming eyes to my Maddy, who had stood naked, asking me to catch her. This woman in my arms had somehow reached inside of me and grabbed my heart.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, lowering her eyes and tilting her face toward the passenger window.

  I caught her reflection in the glass. Slowly, I slid my hands out from under the warmth of her shirt and raised them to turn her face toward me. “I wasn’t about to let that motherfucker get away with hurting you. He needs to leave you alone.”

  “You underestimate my involvement in all of this. I’m not an innocent victim.” She closed her eyes and subtly shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve been a willing participant. I don’t want you to go on some campaign to protect a virtue that I gave up a long time ago.”

  “Maddy…”

  I needed the words to tell her what she meant to me without scaring the living shit out of her. The past needed to stay there. She was with me now, and I would defend her against whoever, whenever, every fucking day.

  “I knew what I was doing.” She turned and brushed her lips over mine.

  “You’re not a victim.” I wrapped my arms around her. “You’re Madison fucking Stuart.”

  “You’ve got that right,” she said, purring as she bit my lower lip.

  “And you’re fucking mine.” I tightened my hold possessively as the car came to a stop in the parking garage of Mark’s building.

  She gently caressed my face with her fingers, cupping my chin in her hand and rubbing her thumb over my stubble. Her eyes were softly gazing at me as she gingerly touched her lips to my forehead. “We’re here,” she whispered.

  ***

  The elevator doors opened to an impressive foyer while classical music played in the background. Our ride up had been quiet. I’d held her against me, pressing her back into my chest while resting my chin on top of her head.

  “You’re too quiet.” I paused. “In my experience, when a woman is quiet, her head is going a mile a minute, and that can only mean trouble.”

  “Rick, you’re an idiot.” She jabbed me in the ribs with her elbow and shook her head as she stepped out of the elevator and into the apartment. “Thanks for keeping it real.”

  I laughed. “God, I missed you.” I came up behind her and nuzzled her neck. “I missed your insults. That caveman, He-Man thing was weak and not up to par with your best material.” I nipped her ear. “When you call me an asshole, I know you can’t live without me.”

  She sighed and reclined into me. “We need to talk about your expectations. My calling you an asshole is a statement of fact, not a declaration of affection.”

  “I think she doth protest too much.” I snickered, squeezing her ass, and then I faced her, so she would know exactly how serious I was. “I expect you to finish what you started in the car. Then, I expect you on the airplane with me tomorrow. It’s pretty straightforward.”

  My eyes shifted up when I saw movement behind her. Madison quickly turned around.

  “Maddy, I thought I heard you,” Mark said in his deep voice. He then extended his hand to me. “Rick, it’s good to see you again. Come in. Please make yourself at home.”

  “We can’t stay long.” I followed him into the living room. “We’re leaving in the morning.”

  Madison gave a curt greeting with a quick hug before she sat down on the couch and clutched a blanket. I gave Mark a sideways glance. His lips were pressed in a straight line, but his eyes followed her every move. She pulled a book into her lap, and he let out a deep sigh.

  “She’s mad at me,” Mark told me as we both watched her. “She thinks I betrayed her.” He paused. “Everything I’ve done is for her.”

  I was feeling that awkward moment when I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to give him a man hug or just stand there.

  “She thinks her dad will make this better. I don’t get how someone has to make an appointment to talk to her dad. This is some seriously fucked-up shit.”

  He looked over at me for a second and then resumed his stalker stare.

  “Patrick has never come through for her. He won’t start now. She’s done an amazing job, but this project is too big for her to do without Alex. She lacks the experience. Once it’s up and running, she could certainly manage it. Does she really want to though? The life of a restaurateur isn’t glamorous. It takes over and becomes everything you do. We tried to do it differently with Madison, but she still spent a great deal of her childhood in a kitchen. I want her to have a better life.” He brought his arm over my shoulder. He probably needed the hug more. “I missed the last year of my wife’s life because I didn’t make the time. Weekends here and there weren’t enough. They both needed me, but I chose Mark’s.”

  This wasn’t what I’d planned for when we pulled up here. I’d just wanted to stop by for a quick good-bye. I thought it was the right thing to do. Madison was always harping on manners going a long way. Plus, I liked the man. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was supposed to do.

  “She’s got a good head on her shoulders. She keeps me in line better than my mom, and that’s saying a lot. She’ll come around. Look”—I gestured to myself—”I’m a prime example that she doesn’t stay upset long.”

  He gave me a quick smile and patted me on the back. “Will you give us a moment?”

  “Of course,” I answered, thinking that was the most fucked-up thing for this man to ask me. Like, who the fuck was I? “I have to make a couple of calls.”

  I sat down in a chair next to me, watching him go to her. He stood above her almost like he was asking her permission to sit down. She looked up at him, and there it was, the brush-off as she turned her head away.

  She could be such a bitch.

  He sat down next to her anyway and pulled her into him. I only wished they would talk louder. I had no idea what they were saying.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I pulled out my phone. Fuck, I have a text message from Chris.

  Chris: We need to talk.

  Me: Out of town. Be back tomorrow.

  Chris: Good move, getting the hell out of town.

  Me: Ha. Dealing with other shit.

  Chris: You fucked up.

  Me: I know. Lunch?

  Chris: Drinks—Monday.

  Me: Works for me.

  Shit, I have another text message—from Kristina with a K.

  I’d forgotten about her. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I was going to be traveling a lot for work, and I couldn’t fuck up my first class hookup.

  Kristina: Rest up. Going to town with you tomorrow.

  I exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of my neck. I could picture her sending the text, squeezing her tits together and giggling like she’d won the fucking lottery. Well, if I would have been serious, that would be the case. Fuck. I needed to figure out a way to get out of that one. Madison would know what to do. I’d deal with Kristina tomorrow.

  I scrolled down further to find a text from my mom.

  Mami: Reminder—I need to see my beautiful son tomorrow.

  Me: Of course.

  Mami: Te quiero.

  Me: Siempre.

  I slipped my phone into my pocket and stretched my legs while rolling my shoulders. What a fucking day. This had been the longest weekend of my life. I squeezed my right hand a couple of times, wondering what Bruce’s face looked like. I laid my head back on the chair and then closed my eyes.

  A few minutes later, I felt a soft tickle on my face. I opened one eye to find Madison standing over me.

  “Let’s go, sleepyhead.”

  She reached out, and I took her hand.

  Mark walked us to the elevator. “Rick, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope you visit again soon.”

  “Nice meeting you, too. Come down to Miami sometime. It’s a lot warmer.” I patted him on the shoulder and brought him into a man hug. “Everything’s good now?”

  “Yes.” He returned the quick hug. “Take care of my girl.
”

  “That’s the plan. We’ll see you soon.”

  I was actually serious, which was unusual for me. Being in sales, I generally said things I didn’t mean on a regular basis, and I made them sound sincere. But I meant it this time. I really liked Mark, not just the legend or as Madison’s grandfather. I liked the man.

  As they embraced, she looked up at me and smiled warmly. I couldn’t help but return it. She was an enigma, complex and challenging. I wasn’t sure which personality I loved to hate, hated to love, or loved to love. They were all uniquely her, but I thought I lived for the glimpses of this one. This was the girl she didn’t let people see, the one she hid from the world.

  Mark said his last good-bye to both of us as Madison straightened and tilted up her chin. Her eyes were focused ahead as she walked into the elevator and stood next to me. I waved one last time as the doors slowly closed. I was going to miss him.

  “Looks like the two of you made up.” I inched closer to her, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Just shut up.” Her lip quivered as she stared forward.

  I reached for her hand and laced my fingers with hers. “I love you, Maddy.”

  Chapter 21

  Madison

  My heart skipped a beat or two, maybe ten as his words took me back ten years earlier.

  I walked up the steps to Jonathan’s apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries and a heart full of hope. I was in love.

  From the moment I’d first seen him walk into the kitchen at Mark’s with my grandfather on one side and Jean-Claude, the executive chef, on the other, I’d known that he would forever change my life. I’d never subscribed to those romantic notions, thinking they belonged in works of fiction or a Lifetime movie of the week. Sure enough, the moment our eyes had met, I’d felt an electrical current shoot throughout my body, and a radiant smile spread across my face. Jonathan Kingsley had done what so many had attempted and failed at miserably. He had gotten my attention.

  Stolen glances had led to small talk, leading to harmless flirting. Before we had known it, we had spent his commute home on the phone. We had talked about everything, including our hopes and dreams. I’d told him the countless stories of the Stuart/Donovan family history.