I collapse forward again and rest my head against the cold table. I take slow, deep breaths, but they do nothing to still the thumping heart in my chest. His power over me, it’s still so strong after all these years.
“Oh, my god — they haven’t — you know —”
“No.” I sit up again. “She told me it’s not serious.”
“Thank Christ.” She shakes her head. “Did he know she was your mother?”
“He claims no,” I answer.
“Claims?” she asks. “You don’t believe him?”
“I don’t know…” I chew on my thumbnail. “It’s just so hard to believe. She and I look nearly identical and we have the same last name — I mean, how hard would that be to figure out?” Gabby nods, keeping silent to let me rant this through. “And we left things so… rough before,” I say.
“I remember,” she says.
“He told me I would regret leaving him,” I say. “Maybe he is doing this on purpose to get back at me.”
Gabby shakes her head. “I don’t know. This doesn’t seem like his style, Alice.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Does Percy know about him?”
“No,” I answer. “I told him I had an affair with an older man years ago, but… he doesn’t know it was Charles and he doesn’t know any other details than that and I don’t want him to know more than that — especially now.”
“Hey…” Gabby reaches out and takes my hand. “Alice, are you okay?”
I nod slowly as the dull throbbing continues in my sex. “I will be,” I say, “but I should probably get back to work.”
She scoffs as she grabs her coat. “I admire you, Alice. I wouldn’t even be able to walk if I went through what you just did.”
I laugh and the weight on my shoulders feels a little lighter. “Thanks, Gabby,” I tell her as we stand up and hug each other tight.
She glances back once more at the photograph. “God, I miss that dress,” she says.
“I still have it,” I admit, “if you want it. I only wore it once.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I might have to take you up on that. The Blind Girl Party is next week and I need something to wear.”
“You’re going to that?” I laugh.
“It’s fun and nostalgic.” She blows me a kiss. “See you later.”
I say goodbye and reach into my pocket for my name tag.
***
I push open the front door after my shift and quickly lock it behind me. It’s been nearly five hours since my encounter with Charles and there’s only one thing on my mind.
“Percy?” I ask the empty room, clutching the black box to my chest.
“Yes?”
I sigh with relief and drop the present down on the counter as I march through the apartment towards the bedroom.
When I enter the room, I find him sitting at his desk in the corner. He spins around in his chair as I step inside.
“Hey,” he greets me. He pulls his glasses off his face and rubs the bridge of his nose.
I don’t say a word. I peel my uniform off and toss it to my feet. My begging slit hasn’t ceased pounding since he touched me. Percy watches me strip naked, his eyes cycling through bouts of confusion and arousal.
“Okay then,” he says.
I pull him off the chair and maneuver him to the bed. His body turns to jelly and he lets me lay him down however I want him. I straddle him and kiss him with tingling lips.
“Alice—”
I silence him with another kiss as I reach for his belt.
Don’t do that, Alice.
I purr at the sound of his voice in my head again. I let the words repeat and I allow myself to remember his touch on my skin. Thriving heat builds in sex, radiating my core.
I pull Percy’s pants to the floor. I squeeze his hard cock with my tingling fingers. Passion fuels my motions. I bite my lip, delighting in the delicious pain it brings me. I grab a condom from my nightstand drawer and return to him, ready and willing.
Percy pulls his shirt over his head to match my nudeness. He grips my body as I straddle him again and breathes heavily as I roll the rubber onto his shaft.
“Alice—”
I rub myself against his body, relishing in his hardness pressed against my engorged clitoris. The sensation is overwhelming. I’ve waited hours for this, to feel his hands on my body. I close my eyes and think only of him.
Charles.
I impale myself on Percy’s member, sheathing myself to the brim. He fills me deeply and I writhe on him, taking the pleasure that’s tortured me just out of reach.
I take him with a fearsome grind, digging my fingers into his chest to steady me. I look down at him and I see his face. His jet black hair. His forest green eyes full of desire as he bucks his hips to meet my thrusts.
“Alice…”
His voice again, that token growl. My skin pops with mini sensations. I scream at the ceiling. My nipples peak to his touch as he squeezes my breasts. I’m so close, yet so far away from my desires. His raw power consumes me as my body breaks into orgasm.
I fall limply against his chest, but my hips keep moving as I ride him. I don’t want to stop. I need this too badly. I kiss him and for a second, I taste his tongue again.
I open my eyes to see Percy staring back at me. “Fuck me,” I beg him. I roll off his body and land on my hands and knees beside him.
He moves slowly behind me, too slowly. I grip the bed sheets to calm my intensity, but it’s not enough. I need him back inside me. I need him to fill me.
Finally, his thickness splits my folds again and I twitch to feel him in me.
“Harder,” I moan. I press against him with each thrust, forcing it deeper inside. He pounds me again, giving in to my demands. “Harder!” I scream it loud and take every inch of him as he obeys me.
I stuff the corner of a pillow between my lips and bite down to keep from screaming his name.
Charles.
The man my body craves.
Charles.
The only man that’s ever kept me satisfied.
Charles.
The man I can no longer have.
The man I gave up.
I twinge once more, arching my back as a fresh climax washes over me. Percy grunts as he comes with me. His nails dig into my hips. I feel the pain of it and my skin dances.
I collapse into a heap of exhaustion against the pillows. I can barely breathe, I can barely feel anything at all.
Percy lies behind me and spoons me with his arm. “That was intense,” he speaks between breaths.
“Yeah…” I agree. I push the darkness and guilt to the edges of my mind and take Percy’s hand. We entwine our fingers and I feel his love.
Love.
Percy releases my hand and slowly rolls off the bed.
“Where are you going?” I ask him.
“Thirsty—” he simply says as he walks out of the room.
I twitch with delight, taking smooth and silent breaths, as I wait for him to return.
“Hey, Alice—” I hear him say. “What’s this?”
My stomach sinks. The gift from Charles. I push myself up in bed. “Umm—” I stutter.
He returns to the room with the black box in one hand and the photo frame in the other. “This is nice…” he says. “Did Gabby give this to you?”
I choke on the words. “Yeah— yeah…” I laugh. “Old picture from college, back when she first met Ian. She gave it to me today. Late birthday gift.”
He purses his lips and nods. “I like it,” he says.
“Come back to bed,” I urge him, my heart racing from the lie. He sets the gift down and climbs back in beside me.
Chapter 12
I’d Rather Starve
I push open the door to my childhood home and step inside.
“Hello?” I hear my mother’s voice from the back of the house, a hint of fear behind her voice.
“It’s just me, Mom,” I announce. I close th
e door behind me and linger in place until she enters the foyer.
I throw my arms around her immediately and bury my face in her shoulder.
“Sweetie — I didn’t know you were coming,” she says to me.
“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry. I just felt like getting out of the city for a little while.”
She pats my back, holding me in place against her. “That’s okay. You’re always welcome home whenever you want, you know that.” I inhale her scent. The natural instinct for a mother’s comfort overwhelms me. It brings tears to my eyes, but I force them away before facing her again. “What’s going on?” she asks me, searching my face.
I meet her smile and take a deep breath. I want nothing more than to confess everything to her, announce every sin, but I hold back the urge. Doing so would only create a deeper divide between us. “I’m just feeling a little stressed out is all,” I say instead.
She motions for me to follow her. “Well, come on in. Put your feet up.” She makes a wave motion with her arms. “Relax it out.”
I laugh. “Mother, when did you become so zen?” I ask.
“Since I stopped drinking and took up yoga,” she explains.
“I can believe neither of those things,” I say as I take a seat at the kitchen table.
She places an empty mug down in front of me and glares at me out of the corners of her eyes. “I’m going to let that one slide because of how miserable you look right now,” she says, “and I don’t want to kick you while you’re down.”
“I’m not miserable,” I say as she fills my cup with coffee.
She sits down across from me with her own fresh mug. “What’d he do?” she asks.
“Who?”
“Percy.”
I shake my head. “Percy didn’t do anything,” I say.
She takes a sip of her coffee and raises an eyebrow at me. “Then why do I sense man trouble?”
“When did you become the authority on man trouble?” I ask her, smiling.
“I have always been the authority on man trouble, Alice,” she says. “If you don’t believe me, I can show you my Cesarean scar.”
“No, thanks,” I say.
“Granted, it’s an old scar, so I might be a little rusty,” she says, “but recent events have trained me to further hone my skills.”
I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”
“The city man has packed his bags,” she says over the rim of her coffee mug before taking a long drink.
“Charles?” I ask. She nods. “What happened?”
“I have no idea,” she says. “He called me up earlier this week, told me it wasn’t working out, and I accepted it.”
I slink back. A confusing elixir of emotion flows through me. I feel simultaneous relief and sympathy for her. “Wow, Mom, I’m so sorry,” I say.
“It was fun while it lasted,” she says.
“When was this?”
She thinks for a moment. “Tuesday?”
My skin crawls. The same day he surprised me at the diner. “Did he say why?”
“No,” she answers. “Just that he was busy — too busy. I’m assuming that’s rich guy code for hot, young blonde.” I flex my jaw as anger boils within me. She chuckles and reaches out to place her hand on mine. “Take a breath, sweetie,” she says. “It’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal, Mom,” I argue. “You were so happy.”
“Yes,” she says, “and I’m still happy now. Do I seem like the type of woman that requires a man to feel good about herself?”
I shake my head. “No… but he made you so confident and—”
She holds up a hand to stop me. “I’ve made a lot of changes to myself recently — as you have noticed — but none of that had anything to do with Charles. I did all of that on my own.”
“You did?”
“Of course, I did,” she says. “I don’t need a man to tell me I’m worthy, it’s like I always told you.”
“Yeah,” I smile. “I remember.”
“The point is,” she continues, “I chose to make changes to myself — for myself. And… for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wasn’t always the queen of warmth and affection when you were growing up. I know that. I wanted you to be strong and in order to do that, I had to show you strength.” She pauses and tilts her head. “I may have gone a little overboard.”
I chuckle. “No, you didn’t, Mom,” I say.
“There’s no better motivator than the well-being of your child. Someday you’ll understand that, too.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m proud of you, Alice,” she tells me. “And Percy.”
I smile at his name. “Yeah?”
She nods. “I will admit, I was little skeptical at first, but he’s grown with you. Perhaps a bit of my fierce strength rubbed off on him as well.”
“The credit is all yours, Mom.”
“I know you’re joking,” she points at me, “but I’ll take it anyway.”
I laugh and finish my coffee.
A few hours later, I return to the city. I’m lost in my head the entire drive, the wheel spinning round and round as I try to break my anger into pieces.
Charles. I’ve never been so furious with him. I know I shouldn’t be. I should just forget about him and move on, but he’s planted himself back into my life.
Why?
I spent the last week glancing over my shoulder, convinced that he’d show up again out of the blue. A constant fear. A constant temptation.
I think of Percy and my heart breaks.
I drive straight to the Kent Insurance Corporation building. My pulse races the entire time. My stomach lurches with each passing floor as I ascend to the top in the elevator.
Charles.
I dig my nails into my palm and use the pain to fuel my anger.
He’ll listen to me. He always did before. I’ll tell him, once and for all, that he needs to stay out of my life and leave me alone. I can’t do it over the phone. I want to look him in the eye as I say the words. I want him to look me in the eye as he agrees to it.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” his receptionist tells me. She’s new — at least, to me — but looks the part with brown hair and brown eyes. “Mr. Kent has gone home for the day.”
I sigh and grit my teeth. “Thank you.” I spin around.
“Would you like to leave him a message?” she asks me as I enter the elevator.
“No,” I say. “I’ll tell him myself.”
The doors close on me and I stare at my reflection in the mirrored walls. My cheeks sit pink on my face and my chest heaves up and down. I fight the exhilaration and ignore the dull rumblings deep inside of me, the ones that awaken at the mere mention of his name.
I reach into my purse and pull out my wallet. My fingers fish through the usual clutter, various receipts and parking slips that need to be thrown out until I find the back compartment. The white card comes into view, dog-eared and wrinkled after years of neglect. I pinch the corner and pull it out.
I’m not sure why I kept it. I swore I’d never need it again, but for some reason, I clung to it like a security blanket.
I slide my phone out of my pocket and dial the number.
“This is Harvey.”
His kind voice brings a smile to my lips. “Harvey. Hi, this is—”
“Ms. Hughes.”
My breath catches in my throat. “Yes…”
“It’s a pleasure to hear from you again,” he says.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Mr. Kent mentioned that I should expect your call.”
“He did?” My lips tremble.
“Will you be needing my services, Ms. Hughes?”
I stare straight ahead. “Yes,” I say.
***
We arrive at Charles’ estate just after dark. The car stalls just outside the gates and Harvey reaches out to input the code to let us in.
My phone vibrates in my pocket. It’s Percy.
My finger twitches as I hit ignore.
Five minutes, Percy, I think. Just give me five minutes and everything will be back to normal.
We continue on down the drive and the estate comes into view. My heart quivers as I remember every moment I spent inside of it during my youth. I shake the feelings away and concentrate on the task at hand.
Harvey hops out of the driver’s seat and I wait patiently for him to open my door for me.
“Thank you,” I tell him as he assists me out.
“Right this way, Ms. Hughes,” he tells me as he leads me up the steps.
My knees shake as I follow him. For a moment, I want to turn around and run away, but I can’t bring myself to do it. The aura of this place is far too strong.
I close my eyes as I step inside. I fill my lungs with it. It smells exactly the same as it did five years ago. My mouth waters with every memory.
Harvey closes the door behind us. “I will notify Mr. Kent of your arrival,” he says as he pulls his gloves off his hands.
“Thank you, Harvey.”
He walks across the foyer and enters the study on the far side.
I begin to slide my coat off, but I halt my movements and return it to my shoulders. I don’t want to get too comfortable here, but it’s so easy to fall back on old habits. My fingers fall to my sides and push my skirt down with a nervous twitch.
I glance up the tall staircase. My eyes trace up the railing, winding upwards with it until my eyes reach the landing. I bite my lip and tell myself to stay put.
Don’t do that, Alice.
I lay my purse down on the entry table by the door and walk towards the stairs. I give in to the impulse as it leads me into the unknown. My hand trembles against the railing as it slides through my fingers on the way to the top.
It’s a reflex, a bit of muscle memory still lingering inside of me, that pulls me towards the master bedroom down the hall.
I push the door open.
Don’t do that, Alice.
Fear strikes me first, followed closely by gut-wrenching sadness. I step into the room and stand in the center of it all.
The portraits. Percy’s portraits. Portraits of my naked body. They line his walls.
I feel his presence at the door, but I stand still with no strength to face him. “How did you know it was me, Charles?” I ask him.
Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 14