Six Years Ago And Still Haunting Me

Ah, I screamed out in ecstasy as another wave of pleasure surged through me, laid on a table right in the hotel room.

Zayne Harrison, the famous CEO but a misogynist—a man whose cold hatred for women was so legendary that people whispered he was probably gay.

But tonight… Tonight was different, because the same man who never looked twice at a woman was standing in the most famous hotel, ordering the most desirable stripper in the entire city.

And now I was here, frozen, speechless, staring at his damn hot body like it was carved out of sin itself.

Zayne had my hands pinned up against my head as he continuously slammed into my pussy.

They liked it rough and wild. Who was I to complain? He had my legs tangled around his waist as I threw my head back in ecstasy, my eyes rolling straight to the back of my head as I felt my fourth wave of orgasm for the night.

“Sir… sir… please…” My voice came out pleading.

I wanted to rest. I wasn’t used to this long-hour rough sex.

He pulled out roughly from my vagina and replaced his dick with his fingers as he thrust deeply and faster, diving into my warm-silk flesh.

“Ah— I couldn’t take it any longer.” The torture was insanely good, driving me crazy to the point of pulling my hips up to meet his thrusting fingers.

He fisted my hair around his hand as he fucked me deeply.

“Please…” I cried out, feeling him pouring all his juice into me.

“Sir… please… I’m tired,” I cried out again.

“Not yet, Madonna,” he said. “This is what I paid for.”

He changed position and slammed directly into me. That night was signed to be a wreckage—very far from over—and he was sure that I knew it was.

—--------

I woke up instantly, my heart slamming against my ribs, sweat dripping down my temples as I pushed myself up from the bed. My shirt clung to my skin, my breaths short and uneven. Why couldn’t I forget this dream? Why did it keep clawing its way back into my mind?

This happened six years ago… six whole years ago, I reminded myself with a groan, pressing a trembling hand to my face as the memory lingered like smoke—painful, haunting, refusing to fade.

“Mom, Mom! Can’t I follow you?” my daughter Jasmine burst into the room, her tiny feet pattering across the wooden floor. She was already dressed for school, her backpack half-zipped, one pigtail crooked, her big brown eyes sparkling with that innocence that always broke me and healed me at the same time.

I forced a smile through the heaviness in my chest. “No, Mom has to work. And you have to go to school. Simple.” I leaned down and pecked her chubby cheek. She smelled like strawberry shampoo and sunshine—my favorite scent in the world. She nodded, though a small pout tugged at her lips, before she rushed out again.

The door creaked softly, and Janet walked in, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her eyes didn’t need to say it—I already knew. Worry was etched deep into her expression. She hated this job, hated the fact that I was taking it. She knew the pay was high, higher than anything someone like me should even dream of. But she also knew the danger that came with it.

I exhaled slowly. “I know that you are scared,” I said softly, closing the distance between us and lifting a hand to stroke her cheek. Her skin was warm, her eyes glassy with unshed fear. “But I promise I will be fine. Who messes with an ex-military?” I added with a teasing smile.

She tried to smile back—tried—but the corners of her lips trembled before she finally let out a shaky breath and pulled me into a hug. I felt her hold on longer than usual, her fingers gripping the back of my shirt like she wasn’t ready to let go. I held her just as tightly. She wasn’t just my sister—she was the person who picked up my broken pieces when the world shattered around me.

“Mom! Aunty Janet! I’m gonna be late for school!” Jasmine’s voice echoed from our cramped, peeling-walled living room. Her little sneakers squeaked against the floor as she hopped around impatiently, breakfast crumbs still on her chin.

I pulled away gently. “Take Jasmine to school,” I told Janet. “And don’t let her know about my job. Don’t worry, okay? I’m going to be safe.”

She nodded, though doubt flickered in her eyes, and then she turned to leave.

As I watched them walk out the door—my sister guiding my daughter’s tiny hand—something inside me twisted. That quiet ache, the one that lived beneath my ribs, tightened. My daughter… my entire world. The only thing that kept me breathing on days when everything else felt unbearable.

Six years ago, I had just one night—one foolish, reckless night—with the most famous CEO of the Harrison Group. One night that shouldn’t have meant anything. One night that turned my life upside down. One mistake… one miracle. A baby I never expected, never planned, but loved with every beat of my heart.

I got pregnant accidentally, unexpectedly, but not for a single second did I regret her. Jasmine was the only good thing life ever gave me.

And now? Now I was back to risking everything—every piece of myself—for her again.

Hired as a bodyguard. Assigned to serve a certain CEO.

I didn’t get the full details. I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to ask. When you’re drowning, you don’t check the rope somebody throws at you—you just hold on.

The pay was high, unbelievably high. Almost suspiciously high. But I needed it. I needed it desperately. Jasmine needed urgent treatment. And the loan sharks… They’d been hunting us for almost two years. Knocking. Threatening. Following. Our lives had become a cycle of whispering, hiding, praying no one found us.

I wanted better for her. A childhood that wasn’t filled with fear. A future where she didn’t have to look over her shoulder because of my mistakes.

I swallowed hard and zipped the last piece of clothing into my bag. My fingers trembled slightly as I glanced around our tiny apartment—the tiny kitchen, the broken fan, the peeling paint on the walls. Everything here smelled like struggle, like survival.

This was it. My chance.

Our chance.

One chance… and I was willing to give everything—even my life—if it meant my daughter finally got to live in peace.