“Is that the last of it?” Couldn’t be right. Where were the rest of her belongings?
The movers had come and unloaded her things within the span of forty minutes. Four boxes, two suitcases, some electronics, and an old-looking trunk that belonged on the curb, not inside my house.
As a matter of fact, they spent more time smoking a cigarette outside near the curb than in my home.
“That’s all of it.” Beau looked confused by my question. “What more would I need for a six-month stay with you?”
Ignoring her jab about the end date on this relationship, I walked over and opened the first box. It was all books. Everything from developmental and speech delays to a few raunchy romances.
Her interest were vast, which impressed me.
Beau didn’t say anything as I grabbed that box and carried it deeper into my penthouse. Into my office and straight for the small desk I’d placed across from mine. Beside it there was a small bookshelf that looked similar to my own.
Empty, just ready for her to fill.
You’re going to a lot of trouble for something with an expiration date.
She followed me like I knew she would, eyed the desk with interest. There was a hint of a smile on her lips, but she stayed mute.
“Where’s the rest of your belongings, Beau?” Placing the books down, I turned and leaned back. Crossed my arms over my chest and waited. Two minutes, and the fidgeting began. “Answer me.”
“Back home.” It was low. A mere mumble, but I heard her as clear as if she would’ve yelled.
“Home.” Fucking word tasted bitter on my tongue. A sick and masochistic part of me wanted her to see this as her home, but at the same time, was glad she knew the difference. We were no more than a client and his investment.
The worst thing would be her falling for a fantasy.
“At my apartment, okay? That is home, and this is not.” She bristled, walking past me to take the books out from the box while I sat down and watched. In order, and with precision, she began to fill the shelf. Spoke to me with her back turned, a huge encyclopedia of mental health in her hands. “Hendrix, let’s not make this difficult. You stole six months from me, and I accepted my fate. I’ll play along, but will not be giving up my sanctuary on a capricious tantrum. When this is done, that is where I will return. Back home.”
“That I can accept...” I began, then trailed off. Beau was bent at the waist, picking up one of the romances she was placing on the next shelf down that had slipped through her fingers. Tiny shorts rode up; her perky round ass cheek came into view.
Motherfuck.
She whirled around to see why I’d stopped talking and caught me pressing down on my cock.
She bit her lip, doe eyes becoming hooded. “You okay?”
Was I? No. Not even close.
My eyes wandered lower, to her thin white beater, and groaned. That teasing red color of her bra was more pronounced now. Did nothing to hide how hard her nipples were.
“Come here.” Doing as asked, Beau stopped between my now parted thighs. Without permission my hand cupped her jaw, brought her face closer. Lips hovered, I exhaled, and she licked her lips. “So fucking beautiful, my little nymph.”
“Please, I need to finish unpacking this.”
“I know, but before you do...” My mouth slanted over her slightly parted lips and stole a slow, sweet kiss. Fuck me, I was hard, but for once the rush of missing an opportunity to wet my dick wasn’t there. Later. Tonight. Tomorrow. Didn’t matter anymore, I’d get her to give me her sugar again.
Our tongues didn’t fight for dominance—they caressed. Tasted. Motherfucking made me forget the reasons why we were both in this arrangement.
Pulling back, I rested my forehead on hers.
“Tell me what you were going to say,” she said, and my eyes snapped open to find hers closed. “Before you trailed off.”
“Just that I respect and understand your decision, but...” At that the green jewels opened and met mine. Emotions rushed across her face before she could pull a mask of indifference.
“But what?”
“You sleep here in my bed every night. No excuse.” I swallowed hard, and she bit her abused bottom lip. “Agreed?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” With a gentle hand, I moved her aside and stood. The need to get away—out of this room—was urgent. “I’ll be back by dinner. Unpack, and meet me in the kitchen at six...we’ll figure out what to order then.”
Her mouth opened to reply, but I walked out before she could.
I’d reached my limit. Had I not left then, she would’ve found herself on her knees and choking on my dick.
Every step away from her was painful, and I needed to let off some steam. So, I took the elevator down and into my private gym. A few hours here would clear my head.
Doubt it.
Fuck.
XXX
“Let me grab a quick shower and I’ll be right down,” I called out. Entering the apartment, there was music in the background. Soft jazz, and it was coming from the kitchen. Two steps in, and the faint aroma of tomato and basil hit me. “Did you order already?”
Bothered me a bit. Would much prefer to pick out my own meal.
“No.” Beau poked her head out, a glass of red wine in her hand, which she sipped from. “Got inspired by this massive kitchen and cooked. Nothing fancy, mind you, but I was in the mood for home cooked and got to work. Is that okay?”
“Sure.” There was a pesky bother at the center of my chest, and I rubbed the spot. “Give me twenty minutes to be down.”
“Perfect! Just enough time to pop the bread in and plate.”
I left her downstairs. Took the stairs two at a time to get away. While I appreciated her effort, my ire was mounting.
That workout did shit to calm me. Instead, it made it worse.
Inside the quiet of my private gym, my mind wandered. Reminisced about that short period of time when I was truly happy with her by my side.
Mixed feelings. Felt as though I was betraying our sacred memories. It was too much.
That hunger. Need.
Hated what my nymph represented.
With Beau, things were difficult—she forced my hands and I chased. Forgot about the world when she was near.
All blood ran south, and my dick ruled my convictions. Decided for me. It wanted her.
So, do you? Fuck, I had to get out.
This rage was not her fault, no matter how much I wanted to blame her.
So instead of dinner, I grabbed my trucks keys from the bedside table and rushed down stairs. At my commotion, Beau walked over to the banister with a confused look on her face.
“Dinner first?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’ll be back some time tomorrow.” Confusion turned to annoyance. Good. Let her be angry. “Don’t leave the apartment. Rules stay in place even if I’m not here. No one...not so much as a friend, is allowed in my home. Got it?”
“Yes,” She spit out. “What about dinner?”
“Enjoy it and head to bed. Goodnight.”
XXX
An empty house greeted me after the long drive to the Keys.
Silence everywhere. On the road, inside my car, and now this house.
And in the past, I found solace in the sound of nothing, but tonight it made me remember.
Another life. Laughter. A future that never was.
Dropping my keys on the entry table, I walked directly toward the bar and served myself a glass of scotch.
Ophelia.
That name floated through my head on repeat, a scratched record that would not stop spinning. I tossed back the amber liquid in my glass, then poured another.
Took that one as well before drinking the next straight from the bottle.
The walls seemed to be closing in on me. Everything hurt.
“Fuck,” I yelled out into the empty house; it echoed. With the bottle in hand, I threw the glass against the opposite wall and smiled when it shattered on impact. That glass represented me. Of how inevitably screwed I was.
I took a deep pull while stumbling toward the doors that led to the outside deck. The knob wouldn’t turn, and the lock wouldn’t either. Uncoordinated as I was, I kicked the center once and the French doors gave way.
It was cooler outside.
The fresh breeze coming from the water a few feet away made the effects of the alcohol consumed more pronounced. It rushed through my system. My body suddenly felt heavy.
“Just a few more steps,” I muttered, staggering toward the nearest chaise lounge. Motherfucker felt as if it were miles away. Five steps and I was right beside it, knee on the plush covering and then, I was face down on the flat surface.
In that moment I thanked God for having been too lazy to raise the backing after hosing them down.
Kicking off my shoes, I closed my eyes and tried to calm the wave of dizziness crashing into me. Practiced a bit of the deep breath in and out bullshit that people swore helped them unwind before bed.
The noise level around me dropped—dulled into a soothing symphony that made my body heavy. Lethargic now, the bottle slipped from my fingers, the sound just a mere light thud against the wood below me.
Tomorrow would be another day.
I’d deal with them tomorrow.
Beau is going to kill you.
Just her name brought a smile to my face. “Pretty little nymph.” Because that’s what she was. A demon set out to destroy the peace I’d carved for myself after Ophelia’s departure. Vowed to never let anyone get close again. “Must keep her at bay.”
Besides, our relationship was based on mutual interest; money and my position of power. Nothing more.
What I needed to do was treat her like any other woman after my dick. Those that did anything and everything in order to gain access to money.
She’s not one of those gold-digging tramps you’re used to, and you know this.
“Did I?” Was the last conscious thought before sleep claimed me. That, and who the fuck kept calling my phone...