by Sara Cate
“Is this safe? It’s so dark.”
“You trust me, don’t you?”
Biting her lip, she finally climbs in. Ellis gives her the front seat next to me while he squeezes into the back. This is the four-seater. Not my favorite, but the other one only fits two and I want the three of us to stay together.
After we all get mic’d and buckled, we take off. Neither of them are new to this experience, but I still love to see the look of excitement on their faces, illuminated only by the soft light from the dash. The horizon is already starting to lighten where the sun is about to rise. Flying along the shoreline I put the horizon on Hanna’s side.
She watches out the window as the sun slowly paints the sky orange, chasing out the inky black darkness. Glancing at her, I feel myself falling over again. It feels like Zara all over again…but different. I’m not so desperate anymore. Not so scared this time. I’m sure Hanna and I could work, and we would work well. Everything with her is intense and exciting, and the last time I felt that was with—
My eyes glance back toward his seat. And just like Hanna said that day on the boat, he’s watching me. His dark eyes are gazing my way, and I’m hit with guilt again. Guilt for what we did…or maybe for what I did. How I ended things.
Would Hanna still love me if she knew the truth?
Just then, her hand reaches out and she laces her fingers with mine. I glance back at Ellis again, and he sees her hand in mine.
It makes me angry he’s not more possessive about it. Why isn’t he mad she’s touching me…or that I’m touching her? If it were me, and they were holding hands, I’d want to touch them too. If I can’t tear them apart, then I’d want to be there with them.
And I do want to be with both of them.
I don’t want this week to end.
23
Amsterdam
This girl keeps touching him, and it’s making me crazy. Sitting at one of our favorite pubs downtown, a couple of girls he seemed to know cozied up in the booth with us pretty quickly after he greeted them.
He’s letting her touch him. I can tell, and I think he’s doing it to make me crazy.
It’s working.
I know Ellis. He could dismiss her easily. I’ve seen him do it. But instead of telling her to fuck off, he puts his arm around her and glares at me across the table.
I don’t want to take anyone back to the apartment tonight. I just want him. Like we do every fucking night, I want to let him throw me down on the bed or the couch or the kitchen fucking counter and take all of the pleasure he wants to from my body. Instead, he’s playing with me.
We haven’t had a girl between us in a while. At least a month. And I’m aware that I’m getting dangerously attached to having Ellis to myself. I think he sees it too.
“You seem tense,” he says as we walk back from the pub to his apartment, alone. After the third round of beers, he took pity on me and said goodbye to the girls who both looked pathetically disappointed when he did. I enjoyed that part a little too much.
“You were trying to make me jealous,” I snap back.
He laughs, and I both love and hate his sardonic tone. I hate when he treats me like a kid, but I also crave that attention. “Maybe I like to see you jealous.”
“Well, I don’t like it.”
“Okay,” he replies calmly. “I won’t do it again.” His arm snakes its way around my waist as we walk, and I tense. Ellis and I have not defined whatever the fuck this is, and the only unspoken rule is that it exists solely within the confines of his apartment. We don’t touch each other outside of that space, and we don’t tell anyone else about it.
I’m fully aware this won’t last long. Sooner or later, this little fling will end. I’m prepared for it, and I’ll go back to pussy like I’m supposed to. It’s not like this makes me gay, and I have absolutely no plan to come out or pretend that I am. He doesn’t bother me about it, so we don’t talk about it.
“Why do you like that…to see me jealous?” I ask, pulling away from his public embrace.
He sighs, sounding a little annoyed. “I don’t know. I guess I’m a little bit of a masochist.”
With a scoff, I glare at him. “That’s definitely true.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’ve seen the way you are with women. Don’t you think you are too?”
No. I don’t like to hurt people. I don’t get off on pain. I like the control. But I don’t tell him that. Instead, I shrug.
When we reach his apartment, we each take off our shoes and hang our coats on the hook. I’m suddenly not really in the mood to be touched. I’m too restless, too antsy. And in true Ellis style, he picks up on it. Turning toward me, he puts his hands gently on my hips.
“Would it make you feel better if I let you strap me to the bed and paddle my ass?” There’s a playful smile on his face, but I know he’s not entirely kidding.
“Maybe it would,” I reply, testing to see how serious he is.
“I would do that for you,” he says, leaning forward to press his lips to my neck. My tension melts a little with the contact.
“You would?”
“Of course.”
“But don’t you like…to be in charge?”
“Sure, but I also know how good it feels to give up control too. How relaxing it can be to not have to make any decisions. To only feel…even if it’s pain.”
That doesn’t make any fucking sense to me, but as he walks away, I get an image in my mind of him at my mercy, making him do whatever I want, and that shit goes straight to my cock.
“Okay,” I say. He turns slowly, a mischievous gleam in his eye.
“Okay…”
“Let’s play.”
He smiles. “And what would you like me to do?”
Fuck, it feels good already. Just for him to ask me that. Ellis is usually the one who calls the shots so to have him putting me in charge has me feeling good…but also a little strange.
He walks toward me, pulling his tie loose and letting it hang around his neck. Grabbing the ends, I tug him closer. “Get on your knees.”
Dropping to the floor, he stares up at me. Wait, I didn’t think this out. I just said the first thing that came to mind, but fuck I love him from this angle. The urge to ask him what he wants is still so strong, but as I rake my fingers through his hair, tugging it back so his jaw pops open, I pull his face toward my crotch.
“Take it out.”
He does, softly pulling down my zipper and dropping my pants and boxers to the floor. My cock springs forth, and with my bottom lip pinched between my teeth, I press it toward him, rubbing it against his cheek. It feels humiliating but somehow so damn hot. I keep waiting for him to snap at me or tell me to stop, but he doesn’t. He just lets me.
“Tongue out.”
As he does, I run my cock along the surface, still holding his hair in my fists. He doesn’t close his lips around it but lets me fuck his mouth, reaching as far back as I can until I feel him gag. His eyes water, and I have to pull out before I lose it.
“I want to fuck you,” I say in dark tone. “Can I fuck you?” There’s no change in his expression, and I feel breathless waiting for his answer. We haven’t crossed that line yet. So far, I’ve been the only one to bottom, but I’d be lying if I said the desire wasn’t there.
“Are you asking me or are you telling me?” he replies, and I have to swallow. Can I tell him to?
Squaring my shoulders, feeling like I’m doing an Ellis impersonation, I lean down and press my lips to his mouth. “I’m going to fuck you.”
He exhales with a shudder but doesn’t respond. He could easily say no if he wanted. We didn’t exactly set up a safe word or anything, but we’re not so fucking deep into this game he couldn’t just say no. I mean in some weird way he’s still in charge, isn’t he?
This was his idea. He handed me control because he wanted me to feel this. So, it’s not really for me…it’s for him.
“Yes, sir,” he mumbles
against my mouth.
With my fingers still against his scalp, I lift him to his feet. My lips find his and I kiss the taste right off his tongue. I love kissing Ellis, the roughness of his mouth, being able to be as hard as I want. As I press him back, we shuffle toward the bedroom, unbuttoning each other’s shirts as we move. As we pass the bathroom, I stop. When I see the mirror, I push him toward it.
“Take your pants off and get on the counter.”
If I’m going to fuck him, I want to watch myself as I do it.
He does as I tell him, and my mouth goes dry when he sits on the broad white countertop, leaning back against the mirror and staring at me with a hooded gaze. His cock is resting swollen against his leg, and I place myself between his legs, one hand on the mirror behind him as I stroke him slowly.
I’m teasing him, watching his face for signs he’s getting close and then letting go just as he does. He grinds his molars and lets out a grunt as I do it for the third time.
“This is for flirting with those girls in front of me.”
Leaving him hanging without an orgasm for the third time, I reach into the first draw and pull out the lube. I’m so fucking glad he made me get tested with him because I can’t wait to unload inside of him, feeling nothing between us, just his flesh against mine. First dropping some on my fingers, I watch his face as I reach down and touch him, feeling the tightness give way as I slowly press one finger inside. His lips part as he exhales, and chills erupt along my back.
I can hardly wait to be inside him, but I try to be patient. The longer I wait, the better it’s going to feel. Once I work two fingers in, he starts to squirm. Looping my other arm under his leg, I press in firmly, feeling for the spot I know will drive him wild. His body jolts just as I hook my fingers, and I can’t take it anymore.
Pulling out, I slather lube on my cock and press myself against his entrance, watching his face as I slip past the opening and sheath myself in his body. His legs wrap instinctively around my hips as he lets out a hearty groan.
I really wanted to take this slow and savor it, but the moment I’m inside him, I lose my control. Thrusting hard in rough strokes, I grip his hip in one hand and his shoulder in the other, losing my mind with how fucking good he feels.
His hands claw at the countertop just as I catch the sight of myself in the mirror. And it catches me off guard how in control I look compared to how out of control I feel.
“Stroke yourself. Come when I do,” I tell him, and he does. Watching me while unnatural sounding groans escape his lips, we both fall headfirst into a long intense orgasm it feels as if we share. Catching another glance of my reflection, I find a wave of gratitude flow through me. Collapsing my head on his shoulder, I’m suddenly so thankful I didn’t stay on Del Rey. If things hadn’t ended with Zara the way they did, I may never have come here. I may never have found him, and although I’m still holding onto this idea I won’t stay in this relationship forever, the idea he would leave me first has me feeling suddenly cold and angry.
“Don’t leave me,” I pant against his chest. The mess smeared against his belly is now smeared against mine, but I don’t care. I want it.
He pauses a moment, putting his arms around me.
“Why would I leave you?”
I don’t want to answer him because it sounds fucking pathetic to admit, but this is Ellis, and I’m safe with him.
“Because everyone fucking leaves me.”
24
I need a dress for the launch party. Zara offered to let me borrow one, but I sort of feel the need to have my own for this occasion. What’s this occasion? I don’t know. Feeling worthy of wearing something beautiful maybe. Feeling genuinely loved…well, maybe not loved, but adored enough to feel like love.
So, while the guys are in the office, bickering loudly about something, I quietly say goodbye and hitch a ride back to the city with the pilot who transports the staff.
Zara is meeting me at Hawthorne and Davis at noon for lunch and shopping. There’s a small coffee shop there where I wait for her as she walks up with the baby in a stroller.
“Sorry, I felt guilty for leaving her again, so I hope you don’t mind that I brought her.”
I send her a wide smile, pulling her into a warm hug. I love the sudden softness to her cheeks and glow to her skin. In the sleek black stroller, I lift the blanket to see baby Harper sleeping, her big round cheeks pressed against the strap of the buckle.
“Don’t you dare apologize. I’m glad you brought her. Nothing wrong with a girls’ day.”
We make our way down to the first store making small talk. Mostly she asks about how I’m feeling on the island, getting enough peace, not bothered too much by the guys. I try not to look at her as I answer that question. She doesn’t need to know everything going on at the island, not yet at least. Eventually, I will have to come clean. She’s my best friend.
The first shop we walk into is a boutique, still a bit pricey for my budget, but I still look through the rack. Zara makes quick work of pulling dresses off and handing them to the salesclerk to try on. She’s adjusted well to being a billionaire’s wife, but I guess anyone would.
Every single one of the dresses is a dud. Just nice, but that’s all.
As we leave the first shop and make our way to the next, my phone rings in my purse, and I fish it out to see Nash’s name on the screen. Giving Zara a suspicious glance, I stop and hold back for a moment before I answer. “Hello?”
“Find anything?” he asks. His smooth voice sends a warm flush to my belly. I instantly wish I was back at the island.
“Not yet,” I answer with a smile. Zara turns around and watches me with a quizzical brow.
“Head over to Joliet’s on the south side of Hawthorne.”
I stop in my tracks as a scoff escapes my lips. “Very funny. That’s a little out of my budget.”
“Just go. They’re expecting you.”
The blood leaves my face as I stare straight ahead. “What did you do?”
“Well, I assume you’re going to this launch party as Ellis’s date, right?”
“I…uh, I don’t know.”
“Well, if you go as his date then I want you to be in my dress.”
“You can’t buy me a dress…”
Stopping myself from saying his name out loud, my eyes flash up to Zara who is now in listening distance and definitely would have heard it. A smirk lifts the corner of her mouth.
“I just did, beautiful. It’s under Ellis’s name.”
“Oh my God…”
“Hanna,” he says with authority, and I gulp as I listen to his next words attentively. “You’re worth it.”
As the line goes dead, a smile cracks across my face.
“What was that?” Zara asks immediately.
“Um…we have to go to Joliet’s.”
“Joliet’s? You have expensive taste all of a sudden.”
I clear my throat, biting back a smile. She doesn’t ask any more questions as we walk down the street toward the north end. When I walk in, there is a girl standing by the door, jet black hair and translucent, pale skin.
“Ms. Thurber?” she greets me.
“Yes…”
“Mr. Prior called ahead for you. We have a room for you right over here. Would you like a glass of champagne?”
“Yes, please. For my friend, too,” I answer with a smile.
The shop girl gives Zara a polite smile and the stroller a hesitant, but polite smirk. “It’s a baby, not an elephant.” Zara whispers under her breath as the girl walks away with her nose wrinkled, and we laugh. It’s good to see the crass girl I first met is still in there.
Then we walk over to the sitting area where there is a selection of gowns waiting for me. Zara sits on the plush sofa as I run my fingers along the fabric of each dress. Gowns like these don’t even have price tags. I can’t let him spend this much on me, can I?
“Okay, spill it,” she says, checking on Harper who is still sound asleep.
>
“Spill what?” I reply with my back to her, biting my lip.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“He’s just being nice to me. I think he feels bad for me.”
“I think you’re fucking him,” she says, and I see the shop girl’s heads snap in our direction. I remind myself she thinks we’re talking about Ellis, and I guess we sort of are. Even though it was Nash who put this whole thing together.
I want to be wracked with guilt, but these dresses are…so nice.
“So what if I am?”
“I had a feeling this would happen, and I’m not gonna lie, Hanna. I was sort of hoping it would. He’s a catch.”
“You’re just saying that because he’s older than me and rich.”
“You make me sound like such a gold digger,” she teases me, and I laugh, looking back at her.
“Ma’am, would you like assistance with trying on one of the gowns?” the girl with the pasty skin asks, walking over to us.
“What exactly did Mr. Prior request?” I ask looking at the dresses all in different shades of ruby, scarlet, and maroon.
“He requested something in red. His exact words were, ‘you look beautiful in red’.”
A small gasp escapes Zara’s lips, and I can’t fight the smile on my face. “Thank you. I’ll try this one first.”
Grabbing the off-the-shoulder gown, I take it into the dressing room, closing the curtain behind me. Taking out my phone, I shoot Nash a quick text.
Red, huh?
The typing bubble pops up.
I expect pictures.
So does Ellis.
Biting my lip, I set my phone down and strip off my clothes, pulling on the gown. It’s gathered on one side of my waist and fits perfectly, hanging off my shoulders. Did he measure me in my sleep or something? My dark hair hangs off to one side, and as I look in the mirror, I try to find the same girl in the reflection I saw in the bathroom the other day. But she’s not here. Not in this upscale dressing room. The girl looking back at me isn’t so afraid.