by Sara Cate
I’m not afraid to admit this, but tonight I want Alistair. I want to know his body, his touch, his pleasure. I want it all.
But we can’t. Not right across the hall from Nash. Even if Nash was okay with us being together like that, doing it right next door seems wrong.
Looking up at him, I get lost in his eyes. His gaze roams softly over my face to my lips before he kisses me again. This thing between us feels so beautifully delicate.
“I don’t want to go back,” I whisper.
“Do you want to stay here? At the bar?” he answers quietly against my lips.
“No.”
“What if I could get a room tonight?”
My eyes find his again, the weight of his words hanging between us. A night together, truly together. Is that what I want?
Yes, so badly.
But is this wrong? This territory is so uncharted, I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore.
“Yes,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
He squeezes my side and kisses me again.
“Let’s get out of here,” he says, and I look back at the group we came with. Hanna is watching us with a gentle smile.
“I’m sorry to be rude, but—”
“I understand. Have a lovely evening, and I hope we can see each other again.”
“That would be lovely,” I respond, standing next to Alistair.
Outside, the chilly November wind blows against us as we tuck our bodies close together, hustling toward the tall hotel building a block away. Neither of us speak. There’s too much to say and not enough at the same time.
As we enter the lobby, there is a woman behind the counter who greets us both like she was expecting us.
“Good evening, Mr. Wilde. Your room is ready.”
“Thank you,” he responds, heading straight for the elevator.
I watch in awe as he hits the button for the penthouse, but I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised. When the doors close, I stare up at him. “You were really prepared, weren’t you?”
“I called an hour ago.” His voice is gruff but there’s a hint of excitement in his eye. As the doors open, I’m left speechless. Slowly, I cross the huge room with its modern decorations and marble floors. Stopping at the floor to ceiling window with a view of the city below, I freeze.
I don’t deserve this, I tell myself. It’s like I want to keep reminding him that he got me, not Emma. He wanted the gold, but he got the bronze. We look the same but one shines a little brighter.
Then, I shove those thoughts away, and I square my shoulders. I belong here. I deserve this. It feels like a lie, but I say it to myself anyway.
Strong arms wrap around my waist from behind. He brushes my hair aside and kisses my neck. Letting out a soft moan, I pull him closer. Gently, he lifts my coat from my shoulders and he holds me close while we stare out at the view before us.
Then my eyes drift upward until I’m staring at our reflection, and I can’t help but notice how natural it looks. Somewhere in the last month, his age stopped mattering. He’s twenty-five years older than me, easily old enough to be my dad, but I don’t care. This thing between us, the connection we feel, doesn’t care about age.
His eyes drift up too until we’re staring at each other in the glass.
“We don’t have to do anything,” he says, his deep voice rumbling against my back, and I want to swim in it.
“Yes, we do,” I answer. “We’re powerless, Alistair.”
Then, I turn and face him, looking up at the weathered texture of his skin and his beard that’s slowly growing more white than black. He kisses me hard, and I melt in his arms.
All I can think as he pulls the zipper of my dress down is what he said to me at the theatre. You’re everything to me. I let it sing like a chorus through my mind as I fumble with his buttons. When I have his shirt undone, I drop it off of his shoulders, running my hands along his bare chest.
I press my lips to the spot over his heart, loving the way his skin feels against mine. His body is still so foreign to me, so I take my time, gliding my hands along the thick muscles of his chest and shoulders. He lets out a husky groan as I suck gently on his neck, letting him feel how hungry I am for him.
Then, my dress drops to the floor and I’m left standing in nothing but my thong. My skin is covered in goosebumps as the excitement courses through my veins. I can’t remember the last time I was this happy, excited for what’s to come.
He kisses my shoulders before letting his mouth move downward to my breasts, pulling each into his mouth and biting gently. My body purrs in his hands as he drops to his knees before me.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he moans as he slides my panties to the floor. I am putty in his hands. He carefully pulls off my heels, taking such care with my body. My bare back touches the glass of the window as his kisses move to the spot between my legs. I hope whoever is looking up at the skyline enjoys this view because I’m too distracted by the way his kisses are moving toward my center.
My gasp echoes across the room as his lips close around my clit. He applies just the right amount of pressure until my spine is curling and I’m clenching his hair in my fists.
“I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” I pant.
“That’s the idea,” he mumbles.
Pulling firmly on his hair between my fists, I make him look me in the eye. “Not yet.”
In one quick swoop, I’m over his shoulder and he’s carrying me to the bedroom. I let out a yelp as he tosses me onto the bed. He stares down at me as he unbuttons his pants.
I fidget on the bed, watching him undress too fucking slowly. I need his touch so badly I’m almost in pain.
“Touch yourself,” he demands. He leans his head back as he watches me pinch one of my nipples between my fingers. The other hand skims slowly to the spot between my legs, dipping a finger in to feel my own wetness waiting there.
He lets out a growl as his pants drop to the floor. “Remember when I told you what I would do to you if I found you in my bed? I told you I would strip you down and stare at you. Do you remember what comes next?”
Biting my lip, I nod. “You said you would make me come as many times as you could with your mouth and your hands.”
“Then what?” he asks, stroking himself while I play between my legs. My breathing has turned into a slow pant as my orgasm starts to build. I could just watch him work his impressive length all day, but I know what’s coming, and I want it. “Then, you would fuck me.”
“How?” he asks, his own voice growing thick.
“Hard,” I answer, high-pitched and on the edge. Quickly he snatches away my hand before I can finish myself off.
“That’s my job.” Then his hands are where mine was, rough and gentle at the same time. Soon, his tongue is there too, growling against me, and my back arches off the bed. He is relentless, taking me hard and without mercy until my orgasm slams into me, making me cry out his name.
When I’m still catching my breath, he grabs me by the ankles whipping my body to the edge of the bed. The head of his cock presses against my now soaking center, and he barks his command. “Look at me, Zara.”
I open my eyes as he teases me, pushing in only an inch only to pull back out. “Alistair,” I cry out. Linking my heels around his hips, I try to pull him in, but he wears a sly smirk as he holds out.
“Do you have any idea how much I want to be inside you?” he asks, his voice husky with lust.
“Fuck me, Alistair,” I croak.
I let out a whimper as he slams in. Once he’s to the hilt, I clench my legs, holding him in place, pulling him even deeper.
I want to absorb him, make him a part of me. I want to memorize the way he’s looking at me, like we’re one and I’m no longer alone.
“Don’t move for a moment,” I whisper as he lays his body on top of mine, my lips against his neck. “Just be inside me for a moment.”
“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” He takes my hands and l
inks our fingers, holding them against the bed above my head. Looking up at him, I find his lips and kiss him to fight the tears that suddenly want to spring free. What is happening to me?
I’m not sad. I don’t know what I am, but suddenly the emotion of it overwhelms me, and I grind my hips, urging him to move. Slowly he pulls out before pressing back in with a little more force that makes me yelp. Again and again he strokes, reaching deeper and deeper each time, hitting spots that don’t just make my body sing but fill my heart with something I didn’t expect.
“Alistair,” I cry out as he picks up speed.
Our bodies move in perfect rhythm, and I never want this to end. As he lets go of my hands, his fingers roam my body, one stopping my breast as the other cups my ass. Our bodies melt together until we are one.
“Harder,” I gasp, suddenly hungry for more, and I feel a moment of hesitation as he glances at me. I’m not ashamed. There’s a hit of familiarity there. I’ve seen that look before, but not on him.
Then he answers the call, slamming hard, rutting against me and making it almost hurt until I let out a scream. My nails scratch against his back, hoping I draw blood.
“I’m going to come,” he groans into my neck.
We erupt together, our faces meeting for another fierce kiss as my legs tense around him. I feel him pulse inside me, and I can’t stop the tears that fall onto the bed.
We both come down together, relaxing into the mattress. His lips don’t leave my body until he pulls away to see my tear-soaked eyes.
“You’re crying.”
Smiling up at him, I try to memorize this moment. Pulling his face down, I don’t respond. I press my lips to his mouth and I wish my heart wasn’t being torn in two at the moment.
We don’t move from that spot, and when he finally pulls out of me, I stay on the bed. I don’t want that part of him coming out. I want to keep it.
He pulls back the covers and we move to cuddle beneath them. We’ll have to go back to the house before dawn, but for now, I want to savor every moment. Mostly because I know nothing is going to be the same now.
Alistair falls asleep easily, and I try so hard to shut my mind off, but it won’t leave me alone. It’s at war with my heart at the moment and neither will give me a moment to rest.
It’s ballet all over again. I’m at the peak, and things couldn’t possibly get any better than they are at this moment, so why push it? What could possibly be waiting around the corner?
Heartbreak. Pain.
This was just a job. That one million dollars was all that mattered, and it’s what I need to move on with my life, but I can’t seem to convince myself of that anymore.
My heart is tied to Alistair, but knowing Nash is back at the house, sleeping alone sends a stabbing feeling to my chest.
Tomorrow I have to tell him everything between us is over. That I’m in love with Alistair and I want to be with him, but the moment that thought crosses my mind a body-wracking sob shatters through me. I can’t bear the thought of letting Nash go. We’re not done yet. He’s made so much progress, looking more and more like the Nash I once knew, but he’s not there yet. He still has so much to open up about, and if I leave him now...will I be dooming him to return to his old ways?
He likes the competition, but how far can that go? He won’t be happy to find out we slept together. I’m sure he already knows.
He just started talking to Alistair again? What will this do to their relationship? Even if Nash approved of my going to the ballet with his dad, was he ready for me to break things off with him? Did he expect me to return to him?
I can’t go back to Del Rey ignoring everything that happened here tonight. I can’t go back to the way things were.
Unable to sleep, I get up and walk to the shower. Standing under the hot stream, I try to settle the warring emotions in my head, but they only get louder. These two men are going to tear me apart. They already are.
And what if my presence tears them apart? Will I ruin their already broken relationship?
I can’t.
The truth settles painfully on my heart. I can’t go back to Del Rey. I don’t belong there, and if I go back, nothing will get better. Nash will be resentful. Alistair will be jealous. Everyone will be in pain—mostly me.
I don’t have time to cry now. I know if I wake up with Alistair here in this hotel, I’ll never talk him into this. He won’t let me leave but he has to understand I have to. I have to end all of this before things get worse. For Nash. For him. For this family.
So I slip on my dress and I take his jacket, wanting to bring the one thing I had with me when I started this two months ago. Without another sound, I grab my purse which has everything in it that I need—my phone, money, and keys to my apartment.
Silently as I can, I take one last look at the man sleeping peacefully in the darkness. As far as he knows I’m still nestled next to him, and I hope he sleeps for a long time with that belief because when he wakes up, he won’t be happy. But it’s for the best.
Without another word, I leave the penthouse and this amazing life that’s not meant for me, and I whisper goodbye to the happiness that was almost mine.
26
The eerie silence of the hotel room when I peel my eyes open will haunt me forever. The sound of her breathing next to me should have been the first thing I heard, but it was gone. Instead, there was only silence.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I put my faith in a woman I paid for. I spilled my fucking heart out to her after asking her to help my son. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I almost chase after her too. I’m sure I could find her at the airport. The next flight back doesn't leave for another hour, but what good would that do? She knows how I feel about her now. I spilled everything like a fucking teenager.
Nash is going to kill me when I get back to the house, and yet all I can think on this drive is that we both brought this on.
Why did he let me take her to the city at all? He didn’t fight for her. Was he being gracious to me or does he just not care for her enough? Did I put too much faith in him loving her at all?
I’ve already transferred her the money I promised but not because I want her to think she was only worth a million dollars to us. I don’t know, maybe I did it out of spite. If she thinks her job here is done, then she can have what she’s owed.
Fuck, I can’t bear the thought of going back to Del Rey without her. I just need to talk to Nash. I need to know how he feels about her, for real this time, and then I can make a plan. Either way she’s going back to that island. I have to know whether it will be with me or him. If Nash loves her, she’ll go with him. I know she will. She loves him. She said she did.
If he doesn’t love her and he let her go because she means less to him than she does to me, then I can beg her to come back for me. I hate that I’m hoping that’s the case. I hate that my son needs her, but I want her for myself.
He’s made so much progress. I can’t ruin that, so if I need to stay off the island I will.
As I pull up to the house, I see my son’s cold grimace from the porch. It’s nearly seven in the morning. Fuck, I should have been back sooner. His expression only grows harsher when he notices the empty passenger seat.
As I step out, he stands.
“What did you do?” he spits at me.
“Why did you let her go with me?” I counter.
“My question first,” he replies.
Running my hands through my hair, I don’t even feel the biting cold wind through my shirt. Right now, I’m blazing hot anyway. “What do you think I did, Nash?”
He clenches his jaw and turns away.
“When I woke up this morning she was gone, and how can we be surprised? I was paying her to be here. It was never real to her. You let her go like you didn’t care about her.”
“You’re wrong. It was real,” he yells back.
“Oh bullshit, Nash. You practically pushed her into my arms, and you knew exactly what was
going to happen between us. You just love having something to hate me for.”
“I never run out of things to hate you for.”
“Fine, hate me. But don’t take it out on her. I’m sorry I acted on my feelings, but you’ve been dragging her along, making her think you care about her just to spite me.”
“I do care about her,” he answers through grit teeth. “I didn’t want to, but I do.”
“Bullshit.”
“This is all your fault,” he says, stepping toward me, and for the first time in our lives, I’m waiting for my son to punch me. I deserve it, and if he does, I won’t fight back, but I brace myself for the impact anyway.
“If you really care about her, then I’ll get her back, Nash. Take her to Del Rey, and I’ll leave. Don’t blame her for what happened with me.”
I see his knuckles clench into a fist, but he doesn't move. He spews hatred through his eyes at me, but before he can move, something in him softens. There are words he wants to say, but he won’t.
“Why would she choose me when she clearly loves you so much?”
“Oh, clearly,” I laugh. “She couldn’t even stick around until morning. I should have never hired her, but fuck, I was desperate.”
I expect Nash to agree, argue with me some more, but he doesn’t. Instead he looks away, giving me a moment’s relief from the hatred in his stare.
“Do you know why I found her at the strip club that night?” he says quietly, and my pulse quickens, thinking about her at that place.
I’m afraid to ask. “Why?”
“Because I remembered how much you liked her. Every time she came to the house with Emma, I saw how you watched her. We all did. You were obsessed with her. I almost forgot she existed and when I needed a way to hurt you, I found her, and I fucked her. I made sure people got pictures of us together and posted them online so you’d see. I wanted you to know I still hated you.”
“Nash.” His name slips out of my mouth as a reaction, like being slapped across the face.
“She always liked me, but I never even considered her. So it was easy to get her to open her legs for me that first time.”