Heart Racer: A Billionaire Love Story

by Starla Harris

  She’d never been one to be overly confident, always more of a follower than a leader. She usually just did whatever Kaleb wanted and for the most part that worked out. So when she walked in on Kaleb and Sabrina while they were fucking in her bed, she was devastated. It was like the wheels were already set in motion by some kind of invisible force and she didn’t have any control over what happened next. All she could do was watch in horror as her life veered violently off script.

  Iris slammed her fist on the table in such a fury that Misty hissed at her and ran away. She walked back to the kitchen and opened the drawer above the cabinet next to the fridge. She rummaged through its contents, a random and chaotic collection of miscellaneous things. “C’mon, there’s got to be a pen in here somewhere…” She grumbled, sifting through dead batteries, rubber bands, letter openers, plastic forks, and of course, stretched-out hair elastics.

  She eventually found a chewed-up, ballpoint pen. She grabbed a paper napkin and scribbled on it to test the ink. To her relief, the pen worked. She grabbed a few more napkins and went back to the table. She sat down and closed her eyes as she tried to remember what her old life looked like. When she opened her eyes, she let her hand wander across the paper as she tried to draw from her memories.

  There was a red brick walkway, a small garden in the front yard and flower boxes lining the window sills. The house was grey with black trim. There was a stout brick chimney that sprouted from the far side of the house. There were big picture windows in both the front and back of the house that let in the morning and afternoon sun. The house was far from perfect and needed work, but she loved everything about it including the large broken thermostat on the wall to the left of the door. It really was a hideous monstrosity, but she loved it anyways. But what she loved most about the house was the big somber looking yellow knocker on the bright red door. She refused to install a doorbell, so that everyone who visited had to use the knocker instead.

  But none of this mattered anymore—not the flower boxes, not the garden, not the knocker and not even the malfunctioning thermostat. All she had left was a crumbled-up paper napkin with crude drawings of broken memories. She cringed at the sight of her primitive depictions. How had her life been destroyed so quickly? Frustrated, she shredded the paper and threw the small pieces onto the table, but they were weightless and fluttered to the floor instead. She ceremoniously stood up and ground the tiny pieces of paper into the floor with the bottoms of her feet.

  She didn’t want to think about her cheating fiancé, or the cute little house in the suburbs she used to call home. She couldn’t even bring herself to think of Dexter without tearing up. She’d raised Dexter from the time he was a puppy. He was her constant companion and now he was gone. In some ways she was more pissed off about losing Dexter than she was about losing Kaleb or the house. Her heart ached as she desperately wished she could forget it all, but she couldn’t. The wound to her heart was too deep and raw.

  She trudged back to the living room and collapsed onto the lumpy couch. She pulled the thin blanket over her shoulders and closed her eyes. In the end, she didn’t eat the apple and Misty never came back.

  Outside, the morning was just getting started. The orange and pink-hued sky stretched across the horizon as the sun was just starting to make its appearance for the day. Neighbors were running showers. The smell of bacon and eggs wafted over from the apartment across the hall. Activity was beginning to pick up in the street. Cars rumbled, telephones rang and espresso machines gurgled. These were the sights, sounds and smells of the city waking up and getting ready for the day. All of this made Iris feel extremely small and insignificant in the world.

  From the next room, Iris heard a long, drawn-out and satisfied sigh. Olivia and George had finally finished their business. Iris curled up tighter on the couch. She yearned for a warm embrace or a tender touch.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Olivia was feeling good when she emerged from the bedroom. She’d just gotten out of the shower and looked remarkably perky and fresh after last night’s rigorous romp with George. Her skin was rosy pink and a few beads of water were still visible on her collarbone. She looked over at the living room and saw her friend huddled in a mass on the couch looking like a small injured animal. At some time in the wee hours of the morning, Iris eventually did manage to fall asleep. Her body was curled into a tight ball and her feet poked out from under the thin blanket. Olivia did her best not to wake Iris as she made her to the kitchen.

  Olivia carefully measured out scoop after scoop of coffee and poured water into the coffee machine. While she waited for it to brew, she went back to the living room to check on Iris again. She frowned at the sight of her friend. She knew Iris was going through a difficult time and wanted to help her, but didn’t know how. Olivia gently placed another blanket over Iris’s small body and watched over her as she slept.

  Before she could dwell on the situation for too long, George appeared in the hall. He was bare-chested, wearing just a pair of pajama bottoms. God, he was gorgeous. His hair was tussled from their night together, but it didn’t look messy. It just looked sexy. “Sleep well?” He asked. George walked over to his girlfriend and leaned in for a kiss.

  “Yeah. But I can’t say the same for Iris.” Olivia whispered and nodded in her friend’s direction. “I’m really worried for her. I know she’s going through such a hard time…”

  “It’s temporary. Things will get better for her.” George reassured her. He wrapped his arms around Olivia’s waist and drew her into him so he could nuzzle her damp hair.

  “Still… I wish I could do something.” Olivia nibbled at her bottom lip and returned to the kitchen where she absentmindedly poured herself a cup of coffee. She forgot to add sweetener and so when she took a sip of the bitter brew, she almost spat it out.

  “Why don’t you invite her to the exhibition later tonight?” George offered. He grabbed a loaf of bread from the top of the fridge and popped a couple of slices into the toaster for their breakfast.

  “You mean at the art gallery?”

  ““You’re covering it for the magazine and you get a plus one. It’s the perfect opportunity for her to get out of the house.”

  I don’t know if she’ll be up for it.” Olivia sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “She was never a big fan of art.”

  “But at least it’ll get her out of the house. It doesn’t hurt to ask. It would probably be good for her to be around people.”

  “You’re probably right, dear” Olivia replied.

  Olivia joined George at the table. He watched her slowly butter her toast before surgically removing the crust with a knife. George marveled at her odd bread-eating ritual.

  “Does your OCD affect every aspect of your life?” he asked.

  Olivia shrugged. “That’s why my copy is so clean and all of the editors love working with me.” She scrunched up her nose at him and added, “Isn’t that one of the reasons why you love me?”

  “I suppose.” George smirked. He loved that she could spot a grammatical mistake a mile away. They really were an odd and quirky couple.

  When Iris eventually woke, her eyes were red and puffy from her fitful slumber. She looked miserable. Her skin, once a beautiful and healthy peach color, was now dull and held a grayish hue. Her lips were cracked, colorless and pressed into a permanent frown. Her clothes were rumpled and unwashed. She could’ve been homeless person or an escapee from a mental institution. Olivia’s heart ached just looking at her friend.

  “Good morning, dear. There’s some coffee in the pot for you.”

  Iris mumbled a greeting and looked toward the kitchen but ignored the offer. She didn’t feel like coffee just yet. Under her feet, Misty suddenly materialized, rubbing against her legs, purring loudly. As if on autopilot, Iris reached into the cabinet and pulled out a can of cat food.

  “Oh. You don’t have to do that. I was just about to feed her.” Olivia stood and offered to take the can from her, but Iris shook her head.
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  “It’s fine. It gives me something to do,” Iris mumbled.

  Olivia kept a watchful eye on Iris as she carefully scooped food from the can onto a saucer for Misty before setting it down on the floor. The cat meowed gratefully before chowing down. Iris lifted her arms over her head and stretched. Her back cracked and her bones creaked as she straightened herself out. Sleeping on an old couch for almost a month now was starting to take its toll.

  “Speaking of things to do. I’m leading an art exhibition this evening for work. I’m allowed to bring a plus one. Do you want to come?” Olivia asked brightly, hoping her friend would say yes.

  “Why don’t you take George?” Iris answered reflexively. She leaned against the counter, and purposely avoided making eye contact with her friend.

  She itched and wished she could shed her skin like a snake. She scratched at her arms, legs and back hoping to get rid of the crawling sensation, but the itch just got worse, which made her scratch even more. All she managed to accomplish was to make her body red and raw before she finally gave up.

  “George has a deadline tonight. So, he’ll be working. I thought it would be a lot of fun if you came with me.” Olivia pressed, hoping to convince her.

  Iris glanced over at George who gave her a warm smile. George swallowed the last bite of his toast. “It is a lot of fun. You should go.”

  Iris hesitated. It wasn’t like she could come up with an excuse not to go. What would she say? That she had plans already to stay home and feel sorry for herself all evening? “Alright… I’ll go.” She relented.

  “Great! Just think of it as an excuse to blow off some steam. We’re gonna have a blast... Girl’s night out. Can’t wait!” Olivia smiled enthusiastically.

  “Right…” Iris answered flatly. She knew her friend meant well. “What time does it start?”

  “We leave here at six. Don’t be late. And please, clean yourself up!” Olivia pleaded with her friend. She was excited. She hoped this might be a nice distraction for Iris from the breakup and the stressful task of searching for a job in a nonexistent job market. Plus, she was looking forward to having some much-needed bonding time with her best friend.

  Iris nodded, but stared blankly out the window. Finally, feeling a little more alert, she poured herself a cup of coffee.

  CHAPTER THREE

  At the art exhibition, Iris felt out of place. It had been a while since she had been out in public. She was wearing a sexy blue dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. She’d bought it a couple of years ago for a Broadway show she and Kaleb went to. It felt weird to wear it now, but she didn’t have the time or the money to buy anything else.

  “So what are we supposed to do here?” She asked Olivia who was delicately sipping from a tall flute of champagne.

  “Look at art. Talk to people. Mingle.” Olivia answered as she surveyed the room. She caught the eye of one of her co-workers who beckoned for her to come over. “I’ll be right back”, she said to Iris.

  In an instant, Olivia was gone. Iris stood there awkwardly, tottering on her heels as she tried to figure out what to do with herself. She watched the crowd intently, noticing how most of the women conducted themselves with a pristine etiquette. They held their heads up high, their postures ramrod-straight. She cringed at the sight of them and quickly looked away.

  She walked to the back of the room to the long linen-covered table where the drinks were laid out. She leaned over to pick up a glass of champagne when her fingers accidentally brushed against someone else’s hand. She was startled by the soft touch of a stranger’s flesh against hers. She instinctively recoiled and looked up. Standing in front of her was an incredibly hot and hunky guy. He had short sandy hair and radiant hazel eyes. Their eyes locked and for some reason Iris couldn’t bring herself to look away. She found herself staring into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity as she noticed the soft golden flecks around his pupils.

  “My apologies.” He pulled back and laughed. “Go ahead.”

  Iris felt herself blush as she finally broke her gaze and reached for a glass of champagne. Her skin still tingled where he had touched her. She could barely feel the glass in her hand before she took a sip. She was careful to not make eye contact with him again and stared at his hand and his chest instead.

  “So what’s your name?” He asked.

  Curiosity won over and her gaze slowly crept up to his face. He had a strong jaw line and his skin looked soft and well-cared for. Iris noticed he wasn’t wearing a ring.

  Iris lifted her head and blurted suddenly, “Natasha.” In a split second, something inside of her had changed. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief as she flashed him her most amazing smile. She was fearless and over the top.

  She quickly downed her flute of champagne and rested the empty glass on the table. She then turned her full attention to him. She leaned closer and coyly placed a hand on his arm. It was a subtle and flirtatious move that allowed her to feel his musculature under the fabric of his navy blue sports coat. “And yours?” she asked in a deep breathy voice.

  “Damien.” A grin played on his lips as he looked at Iris and was pleased with what he saw. The golden specks in his eyes flickered warm with desire.

  “Well, are you here with anyone?” Iris asked boldly. She stared straight at him. Her red-painted lips contorted into a sensual smile. “Because I think I want to get to know you better.”

  “Oh, really?” He asked, raising a well-groomed eyebrow. “What do you say we get some air? It’s getting rather warm in here, don’t you think?” He looked around at the crowd of highbrow society people.

  She bit her bottom lip suggestively and leaned closer to his ear so he could feel her warm breath against the side of his neck. “You read my mind,” Iris whispered into his ear. She placed her arms around his broad shoulders. He was so tall that even with her stilettos, she was forced onto her tippy toes to accomplish this.

  Damien wrapped an arm around her slender waist and pulled her body into his. He smirked and tilted his head toward hers until their noses practically touched. Iris’ heart pounded even harder now that their lips were mere inches apart. She had the impulse to kiss him right there and then. She wanted his mouth to devour hers.

  She giggled and abruptly broke away. She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the exit. “Come. I want to show you something”, she teased.

  Damien followed, eager to play along. He watched her from behind as her round ass filled out the back of her dress. Her hips swayed sensually back and forth with each step of her measured gait.

  Once they were alone in the stairwell, Iris turned to face him with a naughty grin painted on her face. Without a word, she pressed him against the cold stone wall. He rested his hands on her hips and pulled her into his body. “So, what is it you wanted to show me?” he asked, his voice husky with the lust he already felt for her. His fingers tightened around her hips, kneading her supple flesh.

  “This”, she said. She cupped his perfectly formed chiseled cheeks with her hands and pulled his face close to hers, destroying the distance between their lips. Iris moaned when she felt the initial contact of his rough mouth against hers. Her fingers tangled his hair as their tongues darted and danced in each other’s mouths in a passionate exploration.

  Damien slammed her against the opposite wall. Iris gasped, tilting her head back. Damien leaned over and kissed the hollow of her neck. As he started to suck on her flesh, his teeth grazed her skin. She couldn’t stop the moan from escaping from her lips. Her fingers tightened around his hair as she pushed his head down to her chest.

  He effortlessly reached behind her and unzipped her dress. The shoulder straps fell away and exposed her bare breasts. He grinned hungrily at her before he suddenly leaned over, taking one of her large, puffy nipples into his mouth. He sucked on it greedily and Iris’ moans grew louder as she arched her back and wrapped her legs around Damien’s waist.

  He grabbed her ass and hoisted her up. His lips cont
inued to move along her full breast. His hand wandered up her dress, getting closer and closer to her already soaked pussy. Iris’ cheeks were red as she whimpered for him. With her hands, she demanded Damien to keep pleasuring her tits. “Don’t stop”, she commanded him as she started to grind her hips into his, feeling his growing erection through the thin material of his dress pants.

  He suddenly pulled away. His eyes were mischievous and dark. “Be careful of what you wish for.” He warned her, right before yanking off her panties with a single flick of his wrist. He dropped the torn piece of fabric down the stairwell, watching it disappear down the dark shaft. “That’s better.” He grinned, his lips moving onto her neck, approaching her ear.

  “Oh yeah?” Iris taunted weakly. Her hormones were getting the best of her. She could feel lust bubbling from deep within her, threatening to explode at any moment. She couldn’t control herself any longer. Her fingers tore at his shirt, trying to rip it off his body. His hands moved along her curves, taking every inch of her as he rammed her into the wall yet again.

  She tried to stifle her cries, but couldn’t. Her dress was bunched up around her waist as his fingers traced her clit before they deftly spread her moist lips apart. He let a finger slip deep inside of her wet pussy. She clutched onto his shirt, bunching it up in her fists as her whole body shook with pleasure. She was covered in goosebumps. Her nipples had turned into hard little nubs. “Fuck me… please”, she begged.

  “We’re just getting started,” Damien murmured as his lips wandered along her collarbone, his actions were slow and teasing. He was playing her body like a violin, carefully winding her up and waiting for her to snap. His teeth nibbled on her flesh as he pushed a second finger inside of her, feeling her juices dripping down her thighs.