by Penelope Sky
She liked it.
I ended the kiss and kept my forehead against hers, loving it when she was this height. I knew men liked their woman short, but I liked it when she was elevated, when I could look her in the eye without bending my neck down. In general, I preferred taller women because of my height, but all Catalina had to do was pull on heels to meet that requirement. And during sex, it didn’t matter what her height was.
She cleared her throat and pulled away, knowing the affection would only escalate if she didn’t end it before it got out of hand. She brought the glass to her lips and downed the rest of it.
“Want another?” I took it from her fingertips.
“If you don’t mind.”
“I never mind.” I also wanted something stronger from the bar because this bubbly shit was lame.
She grabbed my wrist to stop me before I left. “I have to say, I had no idea you could be a gentleman.”
I came back to her, leaning in close. “I can be anything. I just choose not to be.” I kissed her on the cheek before I walked away. I glanced at her friends as they stood together near the bar, watching us like we were their favorite soap opera on TV. With looks of longing in their eyes, they seemed like they wanted exactly what we had.
That meant I did my job right.
I got to the bar and ordered my drink.
When I turned to look at Catalina, she wasn’t alone. Someone quickly swooped in to speak to her the instant she wasn’t preoccupied with me. He was slightly shorter than me, good-looking, and seemed to be a few years older than me. He wore a dark blue suit, his hands in his pockets as he spoke to her. But I didn’t like the way he stared at her.
It was the way I stared at her.
I grew impatient as I waited for my drink, wanting to return to my woman so I could chase off this dog.
But she continued to talk to him like she knew him well, like he wasn’t some random guy making a pass at her. He came closer to her and continued to speak, his hands staying in his pocket, but his proximity was inappropriate.
I could read people well. I did it for a living. And I didn’t like what I was reading.
Her arms were crossed over her chest, her body language showing her mood.
The drinks were finally given to me, and I returned, ready to knock this guy’s teeth out in front of everyone he knew.
The guy glanced at me, a subtle reaction of unease coming over his face as if he wanted to avoid me.
Too fucking late.
I returned to her and handed her the champagne. “Baby.” I didn’t need to call her that because I wasn’t addressing her at all, but I blanketed her in my affection before I wrapped my arm around her waist and turned to the asshole who wouldn’t stop staring at my woman. I stared him down in silence, refusing to extend my hand and introduce myself. I didn’t give a shit who he was. I didn’t fucking like him.
And I wanted him to know that.
When Catalina realized my best behavior was long gone, she cleared her throat. “Andre, this is Heath…”
I was irritated she didn’t give me a more detailed introduction. “Her man.” I extended my hand.
He didn’t match my intensity, immediately cowering once he was confronted by a man who could kill him with a single punch. He shook my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Catalina was clearly annoyed with my reaction, but she tried to hide it. “Heath is the man I told you about.” She seemed to say that just for me, so I would understand she wasn’t playing games or hiding my existence from people she knew.
Smart choice.
“Andre is my director. We’ve been working together for a few years.” When she looked at me, she gave me a fiery look, warning me not to do something stupid and piss off her boss.
Like I gave a damn. “I’ve seen the show many times. A masterpiece.” I didn’t give a damn about the dancers or the music. All I cared about was the beautiful brunette surrounded by my arm that very moment, owning that stage like she could do the entire show on her own.
He nodded. “Thank you. Catalina is definitely my star.” He stepped back. “Enjoy your evening.”
I watched him walk away, bringing my glass to my lips for a drink to wash away my rage.
When we were alone, she turned to me. “What the hell was that?”
I lowered my glass and turned to her, my eyebrow raised. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Her eyebrows furrowed at the question.
“You slept with him, didn’t you?”
Now, her eyes were wide. “Why would you assume that?”
I came closer to her, keeping my voice low. “Answer the question.”
She took a deep breath, visibly irritated to be put on the spot. “Yes.”
I already knew her answer before she gave it, but it sent me into a rage anyway. When a waiter with a tray passed, I set my drink down because no amount of alcohol would tame the monster bursting from inside my chest.
“What does it matter?”
“You slept with your director?” I asked incredulously. “Your fucking boss?”
Her flames started to match mine. “You sleep with prostitutes, but that crosses the line?”
“He’s way older than you.”
“Oh, and you aren’t?” she hissed.
I really wanted to rip that fucker’s head off right now. “Not by a decade. He completely took advantage of you—”
“Advantage?” Her voice started to rise, indifferent to the people who might be able to hear us. “I’m not a little girl. I’m a grown-ass woman who was attracted to an older man. I fucked him, and I liked it. Alright?”
My hands tightened into fists because I wanted to kill that motherfucker. I wanted to throw him out the large windows and watch his body drop to the concrete five floors below. “That was the reason you didn’t want me to come tonight.” I turned back to her and stared at her, finding the answer I’d been searching for.
She didn’t deny the claim.
“Because he still wants to fuck you, and you knew I would figure it out.”
“I certainly didn’t figure out you would behave like this. You say I’m jealous?” She pressed her hand into her chest. “When he came on to me, I told him I was in a serious relationship with you, which is more than you said to Dynasty or whatever the fuck her name is.”
My eyes shifted back and forth quickly, the pulse pounding in my neck and temples. “Not the same thing at all, and you know it. Maybe if you had some sense and didn’t fuck every guy you see, you would have known better than to screw your own boss.” The instant the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d taken it too far. I knew I’d fucked up—bad. I didn’t mean a word of it, but I said it just to hurt her—which was worse than if I meant it.
Her expression didn’t change, her eyes open and glued to my face, but her breathing picked up, like she was so angry, she didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to respond to the insult I’d just shoved in her face. “Wow…didn’t know you were a misogynistic, toxic hypocrite.” She would probably slap me if the room weren’t full of people. She turned around to storm off, but she only made it a few steps before she turned around and came back to me. “No, I’m not going to leave. You’re going to leave.” She pressed her hand hard into my chest. “Get the fuck out of my sight. Pack up my shit and leave it in my apartment—and leave your key too.” She turned around and walked off, moving into the crowd and grabbing a glass of champagne on the way. Then she walked right up to Andre and engaged him in conversation.
Just to piss me off.
I leaned against the wall in the hallway, my hands in my pockets as I stared at the painting across from me, reflecting on that terrible conversation that got out of control so fucking fast.
It was a goddamn tornado. It started as a breeze, but within seconds, it destroyed everything in its path, turning into a whirlwind that destroyed entire towns, destroyed people’s lives.
I leaned my head against the wall and closed my eyes, hating
myself for the way I’d handled it. She didn’t want to bring me because she feared I would behave exactly how she assumed I would behave.
And I proved her right.
I didn’t want to embarrass her even more by hunting her down and pulling her away from her conversation, so I waited in the hallway, hoping she would use the bathroom or leave at some point.
Then the sound of heels hit my ears.
She stepped out of the double doors and walked into the hallway, so oblivious to everything around her that she didn’t even notice me standing there. She headed for the bathroom, sniffling.
“Baby.” I moved behind her.
She halted, jumping at the sound of my voice. She clearly thought I’d already left, had no idea she would bump into me again. She took a few seconds to turn around, and when she did, her gaze was so hard, it seemed as if she hadn’t been on the verge of tears to begin with. “Get the fuck out of my face—”
“We fuck the way we fight—and we fight the way we fuck.” I came closer to her, pulling my hands out of my pockets.
“If you think we’re gonna—”
“I’m sorry.”
She shut up, breathing loudly.
“That was a really fucked-up thing to say. I didn’t mean it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve made enough comments to indicate otherwise—”
“And I didn’t mean those either.”
“Then why would you say them?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
I was quiet for a while as I considered my answer. “You want to know the reason I let you go?”
Her hostility immediately dropped because she hadn’t expected me to say that. Her eyes narrowed in confusion.
“Because I heard you pray. I heard everything you said. I heard you say you’ve slept with more guys than you should have…”
She was still, waiting for more.
“I know you’re insecure about it, so I used it against you…to hurt you. But that’s fucking worse than meaning it, and I’m sorry.” I rubbed the back of my neck, my other hand sliding into my pocket. “I don’t understand why I got so upset about Andre. I don’t understand why I hate the idea of you being in a bar alone. I don’t understand why every guy before me bothers me so much. I’ve been in denial, but it’s fucking obvious, staring me in the goddamn face.” I looked away for a few seconds before I met her gaze again. “I’m jealous…”
She took a deep breath.
“Out of my fucking mind, inexplicably, insanely jealous.” I dropped my hand and felt the humiliation wash over me.
She stared at me for a while, her eyes hiding her thoughts so clearly. “You told me to trust you, but it doesn’t seem like you trust me.”
“I do.” I said the words without thinking. “I’m not worried about you being with someone else. Andre is nothing compared to me. Why would you want another man when I’m one of a kind?”
She dropped her gaze.
“That’s not what upsets me. It’s…” I shook my head. “It’s possessiveness. It’s jealousy. It’s emotions I can’t even comprehend. I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never had a woman I didn’t want to share.”
She lifted her gaze again. “I know exactly how that feels…”
It was fun to watch when I was on the other side of the conversation. But being the culprit was no fun at all. My flesh had been stripped away, and there was nothing but my feelings underneath—and she could see them all. I couldn’t hide them anymore. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t care less where you’ve been, how many guys you’ve slept with, because there’s nothing wrong with it. Your past doesn’t matter. Only your present does—with me.”
She watched me for a while. “I’ve never been with a man who makes me feel the way you do…because you are one of a kind. My friends aren’t just jealous of me for having you. They’re jealous because of the way you look at me, the way you treat me. They’re jealous of everything that we have. I don’t look at other men because there’s nothing to look at. You’re it…” She didn’t need to say any of that because her feelings were obvious in everything she did, from losing her mind with jealousy to fucking me nonstop throughout the night.
I smiled slightly, relieved that she forgave me, that she wanted me enough to excuse the shitty things I said.
“But you need to trust me…” She stepped closer to me, her arms loosening from across her chest and moving to my biceps. She tilted her gaze up slightly to look at me, staring through her thick eyelashes. “Do you trust me?”
My arms moved around her body, my hands planting against the bare skin of her back. My fingers dug in slightly as I pulled her closer, bringing our faces close together, my eyes looking into hers with a new kind of intensity. “With my life.”
Eight
Catalina
The clothes came off the second we got home, the pieces of his suit like breadcrumbs down the hallway. His watch came loose and landed somewhere on the bed, and my small black dress was hanging on the bedpost.
With his powerful arms behind my knees, he took me deep and slow, his mouth kissing mine as he rocked into me over and over. With every thrust, he pressed deep within me, getting his entire cock inside before he pulled out again, his lips never breaking with mine.
My nails scratched down his back, marking his skin with my long nails. I kissed him back, but it became harder and harder as my body prepared to explode. “Come inside me…” I spoke against his lips, opening my eyes so I could see his eyes staring back at me. We had just begun, and he usually waited for me to come at least once before he released, but I was too anxious. “I want to feel it while you fuck me.” His seed always dripped between my legs and got on his sheets, acting as the lubricant between our already wet bodies.
He moaned against my mouth when he heard my request, aroused by the demand. He pumped into me a few more times before he released, groaning loud against my mouth as he stuffed my pussy with every drop of his seed. He paused as he finished, breathing against my mouth as he felt the shiver in every nerve of his body. Then he started to move again.
I pulled him close and kissed him again. “That’s better…” It didn’t take me long to reach my own climax, to come around his dick the way he’d just come inside me. I sheathed him with a flood of moisture, our bodies mutually soaked for each other.
He watched my face as I came around his dick, watching my performance while he continued to slam his fat dick inside me, his come and mine dripping down my crack to the sheets underneath us.
I could do this forever.
I never wanted this to end, this unbelievable passion to die away. There would never be another man to make me feel like this, to take my breath away with just a kiss. When I was old and gray, I would remember these nights with a blush in my cheeks and a smile on my face. It would be something I thought about when I was alone with my vibrator in the years to come. It would be something I’d think about when I slept with my husband, even though I’d try so hard not to let the memories flash in my mind.
But they would.
I didn’t want to think about the expiration date on this relationship, not when it gave me everything I hadn’t known I needed. I had no idea men like him existed, that they were this strong, that they were this good in bed.
Or was he the only one?
We moved together until we were both finished, our earlier fight erased from our minds. It was like it never happened, like it didn’t matter, and why would it when we had this? Our wet bodies came to a gradual halt, and I cupped his face as I kissed him, so satisfied but insatiable at the same time.
He slowly pulled his dick out of me before he rolled over, his heavy body collapsing on the sheets, his skin coated in his sweat. One arm moved under his head, and he looked at the ceiling for a few seconds before he closed his eyes.
I did the same, letting my body cool off, letting his come drip from between my legs. I noticed every time I came over, his sheets were clean and fresh, so I assumed he or someone
else was washing them several times a week. I had to do the same to my own.
I turned on my side and looked at him.
He seemed to feel my stare, because he opened his eyes and turned his head my way, a sleepy look in his gaze.
“You said you listened to me pray…and that was why you let me go.”
He kept his same stoic expression, one hand on his stomach.
“What did you mean by that?”
He turned to the ceiling again, as if he was thinking about the question before he gave an answer. He sighed and turned over, facing me with the sheets up to his waist. “People only pray when they want something. You wanted something—but not for yourself.”
I couldn’t remember what I said word for word. In that moment, I had been afraid I’d end up stuffed in an oil drum.
“You didn’t ask God to save you. You asked him to protect your brother—and spare your father any pain. It was the first time I’d ever heard someone be so selfless, think about someone else when their life was hanging in the balance.” His blue eyes were vulnerable and open, letting me see all the way to his soul. “I’ve never heard anything like it.”
“And that made you want to let me go?”
He nodded.
“But wasn’t that part of Liam’s plan? How did that work?”
“I gave him a better suggestion so I could let you go.”
So, this man really did save my life—and my brother’s.
“I told him to fight Damien face-to-face in the ring. Then, you were no longer needed.”
“All because of the words I said to the big man upstairs?”
He nodded.
Unsure what to say to that, I just stared, stared at this beautiful man. I’d thought about my time in his cage many times, wondered why this man released me when my odds of survival seemed too slim. That felt like a different time now, even though it was just a few months ago. And this man felt like a whole different person.