by Ally Vance
It shouldn’t matter what Victor does outside Veil. It’s not my problem—or it wasn’t until I laid eyes on Makayla.
“Victor has a thing for Desiree.”
Heather gasps. “Oh my God, Cannon. Is he the guy who just paid a shit ton of money to spend three days with her?”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Yep.”
She blows out a breath and turns to look out the window. “I’m happy Desiree found someone who wants her so bad that he’s willing to shell out that kind of money… but not at Makayla’s expense.”
“Makayla will be fine,” I mutter.
She turns her face to me, and I can feel the weight of her glare. “What are you up to, Cannon?” she asks skeptically.
“Why do you think I’m up to something?”
“Because I know you. Please don’t turn this into another Courtney situation.”
“Makayla is different.”
“You don’t even know Makayla. Hell, I don’t even know Makayla. And Courtney was normal until you took her to Veil.”
She’s got a point. Courtney is the reason I no longer allow a couples’ membership. I only took her to Veil once, and that was enough. She didn’t know it was a private club. She was under the impression that it was a party for the elite who enjoyed a little kink. Courtney was eager to play until she met Desiree and threw a jealous tantrum in front of the other members. I took Courtney home and broke it off. She harassed Heather relentlessly after that until my sister finally quit their sorority to get away from her.
I shake my head and give her a wry grin. “Oh, I have something else in mind for Makayla.”
Chapter Four
Makayla
Victor pulls his Mercedes into the valet entrance at The Martin Hotel. He currently lives in the penthouse, and a couple of days before his business trip he moved me in with a promise to take me apartment hunting this weekend.
Lunch went surprisingly well despite the tension between us. Victor and my father made plans to play golf, while my mother drilled me with questions about my plans for the future. Afterward, I kissed my parents goodbye and promised to call them later.
I collect my things from the back seat as Victor climbs out and comes around to my side.
Passing the valet his keys, he takes my hand and leads me into the lobby, bypassing the front desk and heading over to a bank of elevators. As we wait for the elevator to arrive, I take a moment to appreciate the lobby decor, earth tones mixed with dark wood. Pillars that resemble large vases line the main walkways. Hundreds of lights in the shape of leaves spill from the tops, giving them a floral vibe.
The elevator pings and the doors slide open. Victor gestures for me to go first, then steps inside and pushes the PH button.
The ride is silent as Victor and I stare at each other from opposite sides of the elevator. His demeanor is now cool as he leans against the wall, hands braced on the railing beside him.
He’s very attractive, tall, and fit. His chiseled jaw is lined with day-old scruff, and his blue eyes stand out against his black hair.
“What are you thinking?” he asks.
I blow out a breath and force myself to relax as much as possible. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think. My stomach has been in knots since I walked out of the auditorium today. I know you’re upset with me for what I said the other day, but I’m not going to apologize for it.”
He nods once, then flicks his gaze to the rising numbers above the door before bringing it back to me. “Don’t ever apologize for speaking your mind, Makayla.”
The elevator slows to a stop, and the doors open with a whoosh. Victor gestures for me to go first, so I step from the elevator and into the foyer. A round glass table sits in the middle of the space with a massive floral arrangement in the center.
Turning left, I follow Victor through the shiny black double doors, and down the short hall that opens up to a living, dining, and kitchen area. Victor removes his jacket and drapes it over an accent chair before making his way over to the bar. I drop my stuff on the same chair and head toward the floor-to-ceiling glass walls that give a view of the ocean that stretches on for miles.
The pop of a cork grabs my attention, and I look from the window over my shoulder to Victor standing at the bar, pouring two glasses of champagne.
He motions me over to the living area and passes me a glass as we take a seat on the sofa. Victor sits facing me, pulling his knee up on the cushion, and draping his arm across the back.
“A toast.” He raises his glass and clinks it against mine. “To new beginnings.”
He brings the champagne glass to his lips, eyeing me over the rim as he takes a mouthful. I frown. “Drink your champagne, Makayla.”
I narrow my eyes and take a tentative sip.
He tosses back the rest of his drink, before taking the flute from my hand and placing both glasses on the coffee table.
“Come here.” He shifts on the sofa, putting his back to the cushions, and pats his thigh.
I move to straddle his lap, circling my arms around his neck as my dress rides up my thighs, exposing the black lace of my panties.
“Do you love me, Victor?” I ask, softly, my voice sounding hopeful.
Victor lets out a small groan as he cups the back of my head and guides my mouth to his. My fingers tease the silky strands of hair on the back of his head as the kiss deepens, the taste of champagne still on his tongue.
I feel him harden beneath me and I rock my hips to relieve the ache between my thighs. It’s been three days since I’ve felt his lips, his touch. Our relationship might be at an impasse, but I’ve still missed him.
“Please,” I breathe against his mouth.
Reaching behind me, he unzips my dress and pats me on the ass. Rising up on my knees, I pull the dress over my head and toss it onto the adjacent sofa as Victor undoes his dress pants, lowering them just enough to free his cock. His fingers circle the base of his dick while his thumb swipes over the pre-cum at the tip.
“Take what you want, kitten.” His voice is thick with lust as he pushes my panties to the side and positions himself at my entrance.
Placing my hands on his shoulders for balance, I slowly slide down his length, and our pleasured moans fill the room as I take him inside me.
His hands move to my hips, anchoring me in place. The inner walls of my core pulse, begging for friction—for release.
“So greedy,” he taunts as he leans forward and sucks my nipple through the lace of my bra.
“Victor, please let me move,” I beg.
“Do you need to come, kitten?”
“Yes,” I groan. “Why can’t we just have normal sex like a normal couple?”
“Everyone has their own definition of normal. What you want is a fairy tale, Makayla. That’s not what I want, not what I need.”
“And what is it you need, Victor?” I snap. “Show me exactly what you need.”
His blue eyes are nearly black and glazed over with lust mixed with something I’ve never seen before. I feel his cock swell inside me as he reaches up and fists his hand in my hair.
“Get on your knees,” he growls.
The authoritative tone in his voice has me scrambling from his lap and dropping to my knees. Tears pool in my eyes as sharp pain rips through my skull, and I realize Victor still has my hair in a tight grip.
When he tugs my face forward, I instinctively move my hands to grasp his thighs. With his free hand, he grabs his dick and angles it at my mouth, brushing the tip over my lips.
“Open for me, kitten,” he says huskily.
I part my lips, and in one swift move, he shoves his cock to the back of my throat. My fingers curl into the fabric of his pants as I gag around him, struggling to breathe.
He grunts as he tightens his grip on my hair and drives my mouth over his cock.
Tears spill down my cheeks and my heart shatters along with any hope I had of a future with this man. This man whom I loved is now replaced by a st
ranger using me for his pleasure only.
A loud groan rips from Victor’s chest as hot semen spills down my throat.
Victor pulls me back, his cock slipping from my mouth, and I gasp for air.
He leans in until we’re face to face. “You said you wanted the man you fell in love with,” he growls before smashing his lips against mine. “This is that man.”
He releases his grip on my hair and I fall back on my ass. I scramble over to the adjacent sofa and curl up at the end, covering my partially naked body with my discarded dress.
Shaking my head in disgust as I swipe the tears from my cheeks, I say, “God, I hate you.”
I hold my breath, waiting for an apology or even a look of remorse, but instead, he stands from the sofa, and rights his clothes as if he didn’t just treat me like a human sex doll.
“Stay here as long as you need.”
“Where are you going?”
Ignoring my question, he moves to stand in front of me and continues, “I deposited some money into your account as a graduation gift.” He bends over, putting his face in mine. One hand grips the back of the sofa and he uses the other to cup my chin. “Kiss me goodbye, Makayla.”
The fucking nerve of this asshole. I scoff in disgust, turning my face so he gets my cheek and seethe, “Fuck this place. Fuck your money.” I turn my face back to his. “And fuck you.”
Chapter Five
Cannon
I roll to a stop at the curb and turn off the car. Heather turns her head to look out the passenger window. “What is this place?”
I look up at the newly remodeled two-story Mediterranean-style residence. The home was originally built in the late sixties, and some speculate that it was once owned by a mobster. It sits on a corner lot just two blocks from Magnolia Park Village. It’s been empty for years and was in pretty bad shape when I took possession of it. My cousin, who designs and builds custom homes all around the Bay Area, took one look at it and offered to buy it from me. I laughed hard as I turned him down. I know a good investment when I see one—it’s what I do—but this one is for Heather. Her graduation gift is also her very first lesson in business and property investment.
“This is one of your gifts.”
She looks over at me with raised brows. “You bought me a house?”
Reaching into the back seat, I grab the leather-bound book with a big pink bow tied around it and set it in her lap. “I bought you an investment. Come on.”
Grabbing my cell phone from the console, I push the driver door open and climb out. I slip my cell into my front pocket before removing my jacket and tossing it in the back seat.
Heather is already two steps ahead of me, waiting outside the locked gate. One of the added features to the property is the eight-foot wall for extra privacy and security. Magnolia Park is one of the safest neighborhoods in the Bay Area, but extra security is always a plus for a single twenty-two-year-old.
Fishing the keys from my front pocket, I pass them to Heather. The double gate opens up to a fairly sizable cobblestone courtyard decorated with lush landscaping and palm trees. The main entrance resembles a tower with two rectangular buildings connected on each side. Each building contains two apartments that my cousin designed, one on the top floor and one on the bottom, a total of four units.
Heather spins in a slow circle, taking it all in. “This is incredible, Cannon.”
I smile. “Wait until you see the inside.”
The main foyer is set up like a lobby, complete with a small sitting area, a set of stairs on each side of the room, and an elevator directly across from the main door. Two additional doors are situated on either side of the elevator, which lead to the courtyard and pool area.
“Are they all the same color palette?” Heather asks as she moves to the bottom floor apartment on the right and pushes the key into the lock.
“Yes,” I reply as I remove my sunglasses and set them on top of my head. “Why?”
“I was just wondering if I needed to look at all four apartments before deciding which one I want.” She pushes the door open and draws in a deep breath through her nose. “I love the smell of newness.”
I chuckle softly. She’s been living with me ever since the Courtney drama.
“It’s up to you whether you want to live in one and rent the other three, but if you stay here, I’d prefer you to be on the second floor.”
It’s an open plan with dark wood floors running through the entire apartment. A white granite countertop, with swirls of cream and gray, separates the kitchen from the main room. The cabinets are white, and the walls are painted in a light cream. There are two master suites at opposite ends of the apartment and a half-bath just off the kitchen for guests.
It’s the perfect starter home for a college graduate.
My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my pocket to check the screen.
“I need to take this.” I wave toward the door. “Go look around out back. I’ll lock up and be there in a minute.”
Heather happily skips out the door as I bring the phone to my ear. “Don’t tell me you’ve had a change of heart?” I say once Heather’s out of earshot.
“It’s done,” Victor snaps.
“That was fast.” There’s no way he had time to move her into an apartment. “You could’ve given her the day to celebrate. Even I’m not that much of an asshole.”
“Why do you care? You got what you wanted, Cannon.”
Not yet, but soon.
“Where is she?”
“The Martin Portside. Penthouse,” he adds, as if that will make him any less of a dick.
I let out a humorless laugh. “You dumped her at a hotel?”
“No.” He pauses. “She’s been there all week.”
“I thought you said she moved in with you,” I ask as I lock up the apartment and shove the keys in my pocket. Then it hits me—he moved her into a hotel. “You’re a real piece of shit, Victor.”
“I was planning to take her apartment shopping this weekend,” he defends.
“I’ll take care of it.” I start to pull the phone away when I hear him call my name. “What?”
There’s a beat of silence before he says, “Makayla is not like Desiree.” No shit.
“If I wanted a woman like Desiree, I’d have kept Desiree.”
Ending the call, I stalk through the main foyer and push through the glass door leading to the back courtyard. Heather is standing at the edge of the pool, her phone pressed to her ear as she drags her big toe through the water.
“No, I’m glad you called.” She looks over her shoulder to meet my stare. “No plans. I’d love to meet for drinks… Not at all. Just text me the time and I’ll be there… Can’t wait. See you.”
Ending the call, she narrows her eyes. “You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”
“Be more specific.”
“Victor just broke up with Makayla and left her at a hotel.”
“He was supposed to wait until tomorrow.”
Her eyes go wide. “Cannon!”
“He didn’t just dump her off at the hotel,” I explain. “She’s been staying there all week because Victor never planned on moving her in with him.”
Shaking her head, she sighs as she bends to snatch her heels from the pavement where she’d kicked them off. “I don’t know what kind of game you're playing with this Victor guy, but Makayla is still a person with feelings.”
“There’s no game. Victor is an asshole, and Makayla deserves better.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Meet her for drinks. Be the friend she needs right now.” I gesture to the apartment building. “Rent her an apartment.”
Heather smirks. “Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
I slip my sunglasses over my eyes. “I would, actually.”
Chapter Six
Makayla
I allow myself ten minutes to cry after Victor leaves. One minute for every month we were together. Then I pull
my shit together and decide I need a plan. I can’t stay in this hotel forever.
After a long hot shower, I slip into a soft robe and make my way into the walk-in closet. Hands on my hips, I heave a deep breath out and shake my head as I look over the five large pieces of luggage stacked under the racks of what is supposed to be my side of the closet. Hard to believe everything I own fits into five suitcases.
My gaze moves to the opposite side where a few of Victor’s suits and dress shirts are hanging. The bottom rack is lined with dress shoes in black and various shades of brown leather, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s all for show. How many more hotel rooms around the country are staged like this? The thought of Victor fucking another woman makes me sick to my stomach.
Heading back to the living room, I grab my phone to call my parents, then remember they’re still on the road. If I call them now, they’ll turn around to come get me. And I don’t want that. I’m an adult, a college graduate. My parents are in their sixties, retired, and living in a fifty-five-and-up community down south. I was so focused on school and then Victor, I never bothered to build any long lasting friendships outside school. It’s not like he’d let me go out with them. And the few I’ve kept in touch with from high school live hours away.
Looking down at the screen, I notice a text from a number I don’t recognize. I swipe my finger across the message, prompting the text to pop up.
It’s Heather Reed. This is my number. Let’s grab lunch sometime.
Again, I’d been so caught up in everything with Victor, I’d forgotten about Heather. I don’t know her well—or at all, really—but she’s always been really nice.
Maybe she needs a friend as much as I do.
I move to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and stare out at the endless ocean. It’s late afternoon, the sun is out, and the sky is clear. The weather is perfect. It’s too early for dinner, but it’s never too early for drinks.
I save Heather’s number in my contacts, then press the Call button. She picks up on the second ring.