"I'm going to unzip your jeans now," she says, tugging her seat belt loose, so she can reach.
I groan. "Hell yeah, babe."
Blow job is a go!
19
Savannah
Early this morning, Kent took me to my doctor's appointment to remove my splint. It feels so good to have full movement in my wrist and hand again. I get back to my apartment to grab my forgotten lunch. Kent didn't come in with me; he took off straightaway, something about a possible disciplinary for an employee. He was tense and snippy, and I could tell he really hated having to deal with crap like that. As the boss though, he has to.
He is meeting the office manager to discuss the details and tell him how to proceed, and then he's coming to the studio, as arranged, to bring Heidi and me breakfast.
After the spending the evening at Kent's parents' house, we got back to mine...and didn't have sex. It's bothering me.
Not that he doesn't want to, but last night, I fell asleep after getting a splitting headache shortly after we got back to mine. Kent got me tablets, and then held me in bed until I fell asleep.
I think it made me like him even more.
He's not pestered me for sex now that we're together, and I don't think he would, but he must be as sexually frustrated as I am. I'm a little worried that he's not making the first move because he wants to prove he's into this relationship thing. I might have to be the one to make the first move, and that doesn't seem like such a daunting idea, as I thought it would be.
Tonight, I'm staying at his. I'm not going to drink cocktails and get sleepy, and although my head feels fine, I have a pack of paracetamol in my bag, just in case. I will take pills at the first sign of pain.
I need him.
Dashing around my apartment, I grab my bag and slip my shoes on.
I'm running late. For the first time ever, I'm leaving the house ten minutes after I should, and it's the day that Kent is bringing breakfast to the studio.
I slam my front door and run down the stairs to the ground floor. Shoving the communal door open with my good hand, I dash out onto the street.
My world comes to a crashing halt.
No. No, no, no.
No. This is not happening.
"Sav."
He's come here. I didn't reply to any of his texts, so he's shown up.
His eyes bore into mine, and I feel like I'm going to pass out, like his gaze is squeezing my lungs.
"No!" I snap in Simon's face. "Go home, and get out of my life. I don't ever want to see you. Ever!" My voice is high, very accurately portraying how desperate I am to get him the hell away from me.
"Sav, stop," Simon says, lifting his arm to block me as I try to get past.
His use of my old nickname makes my skin crawl.
His arm touches my stomach, and I leap back. "Get off! Don't touch me!"
The thought of him touching me is revolting. I swallow back down bile.
"Don't be like that."
Heat blasts through my veins. "Don't tell me how to be, you prick! I think I made myself very clear when I left three years ago and changed my number. You never picked up on hints easily, Simon, but even you must get that one."
"We need to talk."
"No, I need to get to work, and you need to go home."
"I can't yet," he says, his eyes wide and bloodshot. He looks like he hasn't slept in days. Not that I care. "I need to talk to you."
I wave my hand. "Nope. Whatever you have to say, I'm not interested, and you can't be surprised. Leave me alone, Simon."
He growls, and his eyes darken. "It's not that simple, Sav, is it?"
"It is. Turn around, and walk away."
"You're not even going to hear me out?" he asks, his voice tight as he runs his hand through his messy blond hair.
"No. There is absolutely nothing you can say to make what you did better. I will never forgive you, so go away. Don't follow me, and don't come back here. I mean it. Go. Please, just go!"
He grits his teeth, wringing his hands. "Fine!"
This time, I shove past him, knocking him off the path, but unfortunately, he doesn't fall into the road and get run over.
He doesn't chase after me or even call out, so I take that as a good sign. I'm not going to hold my breath though. He's been messaging more, there was that missed call, and now, he's shown up. I doubt he's going to give up whatever he wants to do or say just because I told him to do one.
Power-walking down the road, I look over my shoulder, checking out both sides of the street.
He's not there. It's okay.
My heart slams into the floor. He can't come back here and potentially meet Kent. I have to think of a way to permanently get rid of Simon because I can't have him messing up my life again just when it's getting really, really good.
The studio door comes into view, and I feel like crying. My throat clogs, like I swallowed a golf ball. This is not happening.
I round the corner, getting lost in a crowd of people hurrying to work. My back aches from the tension in my muscles.
At the end of the road, Kent steps outside the studio and looks along the path. His eyes land on mine, and his shoulders drop.
He's looking for me.
My heart skips as he walks toward me, but my nerves are frayed. Kent's face is expressionless, but his eyes portray everything and make me weak.
"Hi," he says, stopping a meter away from me.
"Hi back," I reply, the shock and stress of seeing Simon ebbing away as Kent's turquoise eyes stare into mine. "I'm late."
"Yeah." He smirks. "Heidi is pissed."
Gasping, my hand flies to my chest. Shit.
"Calm down," Kent says with a chuckle. "I'm kidding."
"What the hell?" I slap his upper arm with the back of my hand, and we walk to the studio. "That's not funny. I don't want to let her down."
I walk through the door, and Heidi looks up at me, smiling. Thank God she doesn't look pissed off.
"You okay?" she asks.
"Yeah. I'm so sorry I'm late. I don't even know what happened. I was rushing around and--"
She lifts her hand. "Savannah, don't worry about it; happens to us all. Your wrist okay?"
Nodding at Heidi's question, I feel Kent behind me. The close proximity steals my breath.
"You should give her a formal warning, sis."
He places his hand on the small of my back. I didn't think it would be long before he touched me; he's very handsy.
"Do you not have any work to do?" I say over my shoulder. Is my voice normal? To me, it sounds high.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he shakes his head. "Perks of being the boss."
"What food did you bring?" I ask, turning to face him. "I'm starving."
He's really close. "Bacon."
"Just bacon?" I ask.
Heidi laughs. "In bread rolls. Go and serve them, Kent."
"I'll make coffee," I offer, walking to the kitchen area with Kent.
Shaking my trembling hands, I fill up the kettle. Kent hungrily watches me, and as much as I want to sink into his arms, I'm at work, and that wouldn't be appropriate.
"You okay?" he asks. He takes a step and wraps his arms around my waist.
I instinctively lean back, pressing my back against his chest.
This is exactly what you shouldn't be doing at work!
"I'm fine, just annoyed that I was late."
"Like Heidi said, it happens. Is there anything else?" he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
I swallow the words. I want to tell him everything about Simon and my family, but that would open old wounds that I'm not ready to feel again.
Turning in his arms, I run my hands up his chest and close my eyes. God, I missed him this morning. "No, I'm fine now." The lie tastes sour on my tongue.
He presses his forehead to mine and closes his eyes.
I need this.
"I want to take you home now."
"Me, too, but some of us have wo
rk to do."
His eyes blink open, and he smirks. "Come and work for me. I'll give you more time off."
"Hey!" Heidi shouts. "Stop trying to poach my employee. You can't have her."
"You can have me tonight," I whisper so that only Kent can hear.
He groans and kisses me. All too soon, he backs away and turns to Heidi. "I'd be a much better boss."
I slap his arm. "Get the food, you."
Kent busies himself, plating up the bacon rolls, and I make us all coffee.
Heidi clears dozens of sketches off the meeting table, and we set up breakfast.
"You need to bring breakfast more often, Kent," she says, sitting down and grabbing a roll. "Can't think why you decided to do this now."
Kent rolls his eyes. "Just eat, Heidi."
They start a conversation about Brooke's wedding in two weeks, which I'm now invited to, but I sit in silence and chew my food while my phone vibrates in my handbag.
I feel like the worst person in the world for not telling Kent the truth.
He values honesty above everything, and I'm lying.
I wish I knew how to talk about it. If there were a way of telling him without actually talking about it, that would be great. I'm not ready to go to that place again. It was too much then, and that's not changed.
Kent doesn't live too far from me. He offered to pick me up from work, but it's only a fifteen-minute walk to his place. I've always enjoyed walking when the weather is nice. It clears my head, and right now, I need a good clear-out. It's sunny and hot, so it's the perfect conditions for me to take a stroll and hopefully get my mind straight.
Besides, driving into the city centre is always a nightmare. With the traffic, it's much quicker to walk.
I'm not sure when I'll get the opportunity to properly deal with Simon. He's not shown up again since earlier, but he has sent me a text, which I have yet to read.
I'm going to have to call him at some point and have a conversation. Until I'm satisfied that he has gotten the message and will stay away, I can't relax. He knows where I live.
I take my phone out of my bag as I walk down the street. Time to rip the plaster off, I guess. I read the message from Simon.
Simon: I'm not going anywhere until we talk.
Savannah: Tell me what you want, and then go.
Simon: Not doing this over text!
Savannah: You don't get to make any demands! Text or nothing.
Simon: Meet me.
What does he not understand about him not being in a position to ask anything of me? Stupid arsehole. I grip the phone tight in my hand and grit my teeth.
Simon: Please. I need to see you.
Savannah: Phone is going off. I'll contact you soon. DON'T EVER show up at mine again if you want the chance of me talking to you.
That should drive the point home. I flick my phone on silent and hold it as I walk. I pass shops and restaurants as I head deeper into the city. This will be my first time at Kent's, and I'm really looking forward to seeing what his place is like.
It's probably a bachelor pad with lots of gadgets, black leather sofas, and perhaps a pool table. He would have removed any posters of half-naked women if he had any ... I would imagine.
I look over my shoulder, my eyes trained on looking for Simon. He's not here, and I've made it abundantly clear that he's not welcome, but I can't help feeling like he's going to pop up again.
If I can't keep him away, then I might lose everything I've worked for. Everyone would know what happened, and I would be expected to talk.
It's too much.
Turning my head again, I wrap my arms around myself and go faster, trying to outrun my past that seems determined to catch up. I'm running from Simon to Kent. He is my present, and if things go the way I'd like them to, progress how they have been, he will be my future.
Kent's building comes into view, and it's massive. I knew where it was, and I've seen it in passing, but I've never paid attention before. It's nestled between other high-rises, but Kent's is taller, of course, and covered in black-out glass. It's intimidating and very masculine, just like him. Not that I find him intimidating anymore.
My phone vibrates. I look down, holding my breath, until I see Kent's name.
Kent: I hope you're nearly here.
Savannah: Almost. I can see your building.
Kent: Tell me you're not wearing underwear.
Savannah: See you soon, pervert.
I shove my phone back in my bag, grinning like an idiot as I approach the door to the building. There's a long list of buzzers by the double glass doors. I press the one with LAWSON written in copper letters.
That's a bit pretentious.
"Savannah?" Kent's voice through the speaker makes me smile. He sounds like he's been waiting to answer that ring for a while.
"Yeah, it's me," I reply.
I hear a buzz, and then the front door clicks. I step toward it, and two large black panes of glass slide open, disappearing behind the wall.
How much money does Kent have?
I know he owns a successful business and has a shiny new Range Rover, but he's never been that flashy with his cash. He insists on paying for everything, but he doesn't eat at fancy restaurants or drink at exclusive bars.
He seems too normal to be rich enough for this building.
I call for the lift as I contemplate what his financial status could mean for us. What if things go really well, and we want to buy a place together? I won't have much money to put down, and I don't want him paying for everything.
Oh my God, am I actually worrying about this? There's no point in stressing over that stuff unless it happens.
The lift opens, and the second I get inside, I press the top floor.
Shit, he lives in the penthouse.
Money doesn't have to be a big deal though, right? Certainly not since we're at the beginning stage of our relationship.
I need to chill and enjoy this. If anyone can make me forget my ex, it's Kent.
Enough now. Forget money and the threat of Simon coming back, and enjoy tonight.
20
Kent
I'm pacing. I have been for the last ten minutes. It's irrational how much I miss her when we're not together. We've not been in a relationship long, but I don't give a shit. She makes me want to jump headfirst into commitment.
She's my second chance, and I know, this time, it's real.
The knock at my door steals my breath. Seriously, the effect this woman has on me is insane. It's the strongest, most terrifying, beautiful thing I have experienced.
I stride to the door and let Savannah in. She's wearing a turquoise dress. I'd smirk at her or make a comment because she's mentioned how much she loves my eyes before, but her eyes are wide and darting around my apartment.
So, I might have left out that my place is the penthouse. It's huge, way more space than I could ever need, but I started earning a shitload of money when I was twenty-one, and a big-arse penthouse seemed like the perfect buy.
Maybe it was also a big fuck you to Freya. She had taken almost every penny I had when she stole my bank details, but I still succeeded, and now, I'm loaded.
The ground floor is mostly an open plan; the living, dining, and kitchen are all one area. There's also a gym, cinema, and sauna. The second level is smaller, housing three bedrooms and a rooftop terrace.
I'm not big into showing off with cash, so I don't publicise the fact that I have a lot of money. I don't ever want to attract the wrong people again. That was a lesson I learned the hard way.
Walking deeper into the room, she turns to me. "Oh my God. My apartment can literally fit into this room ten times."
"Literally? It can literally fit in here ten times?"
She tilts her head, deadpanning. "You know what I mean. Jesus, look at that view!" Strutting to the glazing that stretches all around the apartment, she admires the city. "I feel like I shouldn't touch anything."
My heart sinks at her words. I k
new it was more than she was used to, but I hoped it wouldn't be a big deal. "You're not comfortable here."
Turning back around, she's shaking her head before she speaks, "No, it's not that. I just didn't expect this."
"It's just space and stuff, babe."
I'll move right now if I have to.
"Yes, but it's a lot of stuff and a lot of space." She lightly shakes her head, making her hair sway. "Sorry, it's stunning. Everything is amazing." She smirks. "I knew you would have leather sofas."
If I'm honest, it took me a long time to feel comfortable here. My parents' house is a decent size, and we never went without growing up, but my bank account is on a whole new level, which, at first, was as scary as it was thrilling.
I'm not scared anymore. Now, I just fucking love it.
Walking even further into the open room, she looks around the massive dining table, which I've never used, and the ultra-modern white-and-black kitchen.
"I didn't see this when I pictured your apartment. Besides the huge flat screen and sofas."
"I bought it at a time when I needed something like this."
"What do you mean?" She puts her bag down on the sofa.
Now is the time for this talk, I guess. "You remember me mentioning my ex, right?"
"Sort of."
"Her name is Freya, and she stole all of my money."
Savannah's mouth pops open. "What? When was this? I thought you were together when you were teens."
I know what she's thinking--that Freya must have only stolen a couple of quid. "My grandparents, my dad's parents, passed away when I was little. They were really wealthy and left forty thousand each to me, my sisters, and our three cousins. I wasn't able to touch it until I was eighteen, but I had a lot of plans for it."
She moves closer and leans in.
With her so close, my brain short-circuits. I want to reach for her, but if I do, we'll end up in bed, and I can tell she wants to know more.
Her lips part, and I want nothing more than to kiss her.
Hold it together.
I ignore how she's making me feel, how my heart is racing, how I'm desperate to hold her, and I do the talking thing.
"I was with Freya before that, but after she took off with it all, I realised she'd heard about it before we got together. Her mum did shit like that a lot, taught her everything she knew. I didn't know at first. I'd planned to start a business with the money, but at nineteen, I wasn't sure what that was going to be, so I didn't touch a penny."
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