“Oh my God, Chris! Why didn’t you tell me?”“I just did.” He grins in that charming, lighthearted way and I’m so happy for that. I’m happy that I didn’t hurt him to the point of taking away his beautiful smile.“I’m so glad we get to spend time together.”“I thought you’d be all over getting rid of me.”.“Of course not! We can be friends, right?”He clinks his iced coffee against my drink. “Sure thing.”We fall into an easy conversation, which isn’t anything new. Chris and I have always gotten along, which is why he asked me out, saying he wanted to take it to the next level. That obviously didn’t work, so I’m thankful that we can still have a friendly relationship.We talk about college and exams and where our colleagues are doing their internships. He tells me about the interviewing process at W&S and how hard it was, but he passed because he impressed them and he’s a genius.It’s great to know that I won’t be a lonely face in the midst of all the hostile interns. With Chris around,
The pause stretches for so long that I don’t think it’ll ever end. Or maybe I’m just imagining things and it’s only been a few seconds.Nate strides toward me, the sound of his footsteps is sure and strong and I can almost hear them stomping on something inside me. I don’t realize I’m moving back until my sneakers skid on the floor, because holy shit, how can I be so equally terrified and excited at the same time?I think the fear part wins, because the shadows on his face keep multiplying with each passing second.I squeal when my back hits something. It’s only a wall, but I’m so rattled that I’m sucking in air through my nostrils, which makes me breathe in his spicy, woodsy scent.He’s close.So close that I have to stare up at his punishing dark eyes.“W-what are you doing?” I don’t mean to stutter or speak in such an airy voice, I really don’t, but he’s kind of robbed something from me.Because he’s a thief. All he does is steal things from me.First, my respect.Then my girlhood
GwynethGravity seems to have left the building.Or maybe it’s my sanity.Maybe it’s both.Because I don’t feel either of them—neither gravity nor my sanity. I’m floating on air and unable to land.Or more accurately, I’m floating on Nate’s shoulder. His broad shoulder that I’ve always looked at and might have dreamt about touching it, but not with my stomach. I wasn’t that crazy.Apparently, I am now, though, because that’s all I can think about—my stomach on his shoulder. Okay, that’s a lie. I’m thinking about a lot of things, like how his strong arm is looped around my calves and the way my head is hitting his powerful back with each step up the stairs.He’s carrying me like I’m a weightless feather. The effortlessness of the act does things to me. His strength. His brutishness. His domination.All of it.And I soak it in, allow it to tear me open and seep inside me. Isn’t that what masochists do? Not only do we seek the pain, but we also wallow in it and allow it to grow roots so
“Answer the question, Gwyneth. Didn’t you say that?”“Yeah.”“You also said it’s in the moment and you can’t describe it.”“I did.”“Then open your legs and show me.”My elbows can barely hold me up anymore from how much they’re shaking, how much my pussy is tingling from his words and the command in them.But I’m helpless in front of that dominance, so while I remain on one elbow, I reach the other hand to the zipper of my skirt and pull it down as I tremble uncontrollably. Then I fumble to kick it down my legs that are so hot and sensitive that I can feel the sheet scraping against them.I let my thighs fall open, exposing my vanilla-colored panties. They’re lace and see-through and so soaked that another wave of heat covers my body when I realize he can see it.He can see the arousal and the stickiness.This is different from anything I’ve experienced before. Because he’s looking at me.He’s looking at my wet panties and my shaking legs and my fingers that are sneaking beneath the
NathanielA mistake.That’s what it should be.Every second from the moment she walked inside and I lost my fucking cool to when she detonated in my hold as if she’s waited her entire life for me to come along.As if she’s been saving up for me, for the moment she’d explode all around me, strangle my fingers, and refuse to let them go.And it all started with when I saw her hopping off the kid’s motorcycle. Her lips were red and her hair was blown by the wind and she was smiling. Wide.I should’ve looked the other way and kept my distance, as usual—that’s what I’ve done ever since I moved in. I make sure she has everything she needs from afar. Like her stock of vanilla ice cream, her milkshakes—vanilla again—and her favorite fruit, bananas, just because there isn’t a version of vanilla fruit.Martha has specific orders to let me know when those things run out so one of us can take care of getting more.It’s all because of Kingsley, I told myself. If it were him, he would’ve made sure
Something alarming, as in, someone probably asked her if I’m gay. That’s what her socialite friends spout off about me when I refuse to meet their prim and proper daughters. That I’m gay.I ignore Mom and her shallow entourage. The thought of her and Dad brings forward nausea I’ve been trying to get rid of for fucking decades.But Gwyneth and the not-some-normal bike kid are still talking and laughing. They’re still trapped in their own world as if the rest of their surroundings don’t exist.So I pick up my phone and call her.Her smile drops when she sees my name on the screen, and she swallows a few times before she picks up.“Hello?”“Have you finished the report I sent you this morning?”“I’m getting there.”“Getting there doesn’t mean it’s done, Gwyneth.”“I’ll be finished in a few.”“My office. Now.” I hang up and take the elevator to the highest floor, then head to my office and sit behind my desk.Soon after, there’s a knock on the door before Gwyneth comes inside.There’s a s
“I wasn’t flirting.”I stand up and stride toward her. She visibly shudders, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red.“What did I say yesterday?”“W-what?”“After you came all over my fingers, what did I say?” I extend a hand and she closes her eyes, her lips shaking before they press together, but I reach around her and click the door shut.At that, she startles, her eyes opening and moving up to look at me. There’s an expectation etched on her delicate features mixed with polar opposite uncertainty. She’s always been a spectrum of wild, uncontained emotions.“What did I say, Gwyneth?”“That you will…take care of my sexual urges.”“And do you know what that means?”She shakes her head slowly.“It means you’ll break up with that boyfriend, effective immediately. You’ll stop flirting with him or getting on his bike.”Her lips tremble, but there’s a fire in her eyes, the blue trying to overthrow the green and smother the gray. “No.”I grab her by the chin and use it to lift her head. “Wh
GwynethHe’ll teach me how to behave.That’s what he said. That’s what I heard, and yet I still can’t believe it.I can’t believe a lot of things since last night.When I woke up this morning, I thought maybe, just maybe, it was all a dream and I was still stuck in it, but then I smelled him. Those notes of spice and woods lingered on my sheets and on me long after he left my bedroom.So it couldn’t have been a dream, because Nate never goes into my room.Never.Oh, and my panties were missing. Yup. I slept all night without underwear and kept rubbing my thighs together in a desperate attempt to recreate the friction but failed miserably.So I left early this morning because I didn’t know what would happen if I saw him hovering over me at breakfast. That’s what he does sometimes since he moved in. He hovers, leaning against the counter with his legs crossed at the ankles and drinking from his coffee until he makes sure I’ve eaten something. Because apparently, drinking my milkshake doe
Whitney“What is it?”I whisper into my pillow.The doorbell ring continues. Ever since Dad found out about me and Maddox, he’s been trying way too hard to parent.I have to tell him to stop with these visits. He can text like a normal person, or call like a boomer. But, unannounced visits? Those are too much.I haven’t felt like seeing anyone, anyway. Ever since Maddox broke up with me, I’ve been holing up in my home whenever I get a chance. It’s like his exit from my life turned off a light inside of me, one I’m not sure when will flick on again. I miss him so much.I rush to the bathroom, brush my teeth then splash some water on my face. The doorbell rings again, but I take my time putting my hair in a ponytail. What could be so important?Dad has already apologized for butting in my business and twisting Maddox’s arm to break up with me. While I still think that was a mistake, it was one I understood. He wanted what he thought was best for me. Fine, I get it.What I don’t get is ho
MaddoxI’m goingthrough the latest reports when Charles walks into my office. Ever since the day we talked in the conference room, a week ago, things have been crazy.The post went up and it had enough engagement for a few different local gossip sites to contact me about it, but I followed Whitney’s recommendation and ignored them. Today my restaurant is full, and the manager on duty told me last night the club had to hire last minute extra security to handle the high traffic.Whitney was right.Dan Walters hasn’t released any statement, because the bastard knows if he says something to try to sound like the wronged party, I can tell the media the truth. A scumbag like him has more skeletons in his closet than he cares to admit, I bet.So everyone wins.Well, not everyone.I haven’t seen Whitney. I’ve communicated via Astrid, but every day that goes by makes me more aware of the big mistake I’ve made.I got divorced once, and even though it was the right decision, it still broke me. B
Maddox“What do you mean we need to talk?” I ask Astrid, who’s standing in front of me, in the middle of my office.“Something came up and I just wanted to make everyone aware and come up with a plan. So I have Whitney and Charles at the conference room, and if you can join us that’ll be great.”“Huh, okay.” It’s been two days since I last saw Whitney, and seeing her so soon makes my heart flip in my chest.Then the realization her father will be there with us is like a glacial bucket of water poured all over me, without any warning. In the last day, Astrid texted me a couple of times about stuff related to posts, and I had to control myself not to ask how Whitney was doing.I was a jerk.I was a prick.In the end, though, the right decisions are the hard ones.Doesn’t feel right in my heart, or even in my head if I’m being honest. But it felt right to her father, a man I’ve always admired and who’s been there for me. Besides, what if he has a point? Just because I want her and she wa
WhitneyThe insistent doorbell ring startles me out of sleep.Yawning, I swing a leg over the other, dragging my way out of the bed.I probably got maybe two hours of sleep. It took me forever to close my eyes last night, after the heartbreak Maddox put me through. I was restless, fidgety, and devastated. All the words he told me about falling for me meant nothing.If he was really invested, he wouldn’t use the first obstacle to dip out.It was my dad, but what else could it have been? Would he have used just a different excuse later on?A part of me wants to believe he has strong feelings for me, butdoesn’t wantto have them. He acted like he succumbed to it, but maybe he’s still fighting it. This isn’t a fight I can do for him.I’m aware of my love. But his? He has to own it.Sighing, I run into the bathroom, wash my eyes quickly. They’re still a bit puffy from all the late-night crying, but the doorbell keeps reminding me there’s someone out there who’s probably not a mail carrier d
She fishes her phone from her pocket. “Do you want to schedule a post about hmmm, the pictures you were tagged on?”“No. I couldn’t care less at this point. I wasn’t doing anything illegal. I was on a date with my boyfriend.”She puts her phone back in her pocket, then looks at me with a flicker of surprise in her blue eyes. “Boyfriend? Thisisa soap opera. I usually don’t enjoy them, but it’s different when you know the main characters.”I roll my eyes. I bet I’d enjoy it too if I wasn’t one of the main characters. “Talk to you tomorrow, Astrid,” I say, and turn around. I beeline to his table, shoulders straight and heart pumping its way up my throat.“Whitney,” he says when I slide into the booth and sit across from him.“What happened with Dan?” I ask, the professional in me not wanting personal things to take priority. Even if my nerves are pulsing through invisible knots right now. I keep my hand under the table, tapping my fingers on my lap, fidgeting.A flash of anger sparks in
WhitneyI walk into the club,and the first thing I see is Astrid on the corner. Why didn’t she text me back?I dash over to her, my gaze scanning for signs of Dan and Maddox, but because there are a few more patrons than usual, and I can’t find either. Thank goodness for Astrid’s hair color and bold fashion choices making her easy to find in a crowd.“What’s up?” I ask her.She peels her gaze from her phone then tilts her head at me. “Did you see your dad as you walked in? He just left.”My dad? I thought he was with his team on the opposite side of the property. Busy. “No.”“Maybe he took the other exit… the emergency one that leads right out of the hotel.”My shoulders sag. Shit. Does my dad already know? I thought I’d buy some time, at least a couple of hours until he found out. I need to get to Maddox first, before Dad talks to him. Or maybe I’m too late already. Apprehension sweeps over me. I stand in front of her, finding it hard to sit, my body restless. “What’s going on?”“Wel
He’s a coward.Anger rises in me again, and I reach my drink and take it to my lips.I’m enjoying it when I see Charles walk up to me. He’s told me he’d be working with his team until late on a small gathering they’re throwing the next day for people of the trade. I wave at him, and he comes to my table with a determined expression, and long strides like he knows what he’s looking for. Who he’s looking for.My gut clenches. Something isn’t right.Was Dan an ass to him too, on the way back? Did Dan say anything bad about Whitney?Or did a bastard like me do something bad to Whitney?Like fuck her, again and again? I feel color draining from my face, and when Charles gets on the table with a disappointed look on his face, I already know it.“You jerk! I trusted you all those years. My daughter, really?” Charles says, flushed.My throat is dry and tight.Somehow he found out, and denying it will only make him angrier.Guilt crawls its way into my chest, and it’s hard to breathe. How can I
Maddox“And this is where guests and locals come for drinks and music,” I say, gesturing as we emerge into the club. I see quite a few more patrons than the past few weeks, which shows me that Whitney’s efforts have worked. We’ve had more visitors and increased sales. Always a plus.I’d be a lot happier if it weren’t for the company.My body is still stiff, as I had to go through an entire dinner with Dan Walters who happens to be almost as annoying as he is misogynistic. I guess it’s been a while since I last sat through a meal with the guy. We’re not friends, and I’ve met him in social events and basically small talked.I want to give him the benefit of the doubt and say maybe the reason why he’s been talking about women nonstop and not under the best light is because of his divorce. Maybe he’s broken, and feels more powerful if he’s bragging about all the pussy he’s getting.But the cynical part of me knows better.This guy is a certified douchebag, and I hope Astrid can get a good
WhitneyI strideinto the hotel lobby.Right now, Dan Walters the politician should be having dinner with Maddox. Maybe dinner is already over and they’re touring the hotel. Astrid is there in the club, ready to snap a couple of pictures as planned, and then send it to a gossip columnist friend of ours.If this was another client, I wouldn’t be here. My presence isn’t required since Astrid is here, as per her text.But I am shamelessly using every excuse in the book to be around Maddox, to see him more often, to spend more time with him.Ever since our ax throwing date, I can’t stop thinking about how far we’ve come. From him avoiding me for years to hinting about having children together one day. Who would have thought?A ball of joy rolls inside me, like a bowling ball running down the lane. Striking out.I add a little bit more pep to my step, and my goal is to pass by the restaurant and see them without introducing myself. But before I make it there, I almost bump into them, with b