by René, Dani
He nodded. “I know. I’m leaving now.” He stood and walked to the door. “Soon, angel.” Opening the door, he left.
* * *
“Bash, I cannot do this!” I giggled, hearing him groan. He had me twisted, and I had been sitting for at least two hours.
“Okay, darling, you can move. I think I only need another day. I swear!” He held his hands up in resignation at my expression. “How about I take you out to thank you?”
“Thank me? For what?”
“For . . . being here.” His voice gave away more than it should, and I smiled. It was Tuesday, and we were running out of time. My heart hurt. I wanted more time with Bash, but I knew it could never be more.
“Okay! Let me get changed.” I grabbed my clothes.
“Emily.” I turned and looked at his beautiful eyes. “I’m not stupid. I know you’re going back to him. I just want the time I can get.”
I nodded. My heart hurt for him and me. I loved him more than he knew, but I could never tell him. It was a secret I would have to carry to my grave.
“Bash—”
“Go and change, woman! I need to take you out!” His smile was handsome, but it didn’t reach his eyes. I turned and walked into the bathroom. Locking the door behind me, I slid down, and the tears flowed. I couldn’t do this anymore. I was hurting them both when it was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
“Emily!” I started at the sound of Bash’s voice.
“Yes?” I stood up and realized I was still in the bathroom. What the hell?
“Are you okay? Open the door!”
I unlocked the door and pulled it open. “I . . . I don’t know what happened.”
He grabbed me and pulled me into his embrace. Bash’s arms felt warm and safe. “I want you, Emily. I want to be inside you.” His words stoked the fire inside me, and I knew I wasn’t going to say no. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bedroom. He turned to me and held my face in his hands. Leaning down, he planted feather-light kisses on my lips. My mouth opened to him, allowing his tongue entry, and licking me in a movement that was slow and sensual. His hands came down to my neck and slowly slid the robe down over my shoulders. His hands were hot to the touch. He undid the string of my bikini top and dropped it next to me.
His lips were on my neck, shoulder, sending shivers over me. He sat on the edge of the bed pulling me forward, and I stood between his thighs. His lips on my hard nipples elicited a moan from me. His five o’clock shadow on my soft skin tingled. He undid the belt of the robe, and it fell, pooling at my feet. He kissed his way down my belly slowly. I ran my hands through his soft hair when I felt his mouth on the apex between my thighs. “Bash . . .”
His fingers hooked in the waistband of my bikini bottoms and tugged them down gently. This was so different from yesterday in the office. I stood naked in front of him, and he growled in appreciation. “You’re perfect darling. So fucking perfect.” His mouth was on my wet entrance, licking slowly, and I almost came undone. He stood up, his eyes locked on mine. “Lay down.” I obeyed, not saying a word. I climbed onto the bed, lying back, watching him. His smile was devilish, he kneeled between my thighs, and my back arched. He stroked my slick folds and lapped at my wetness. He plunged two fingers inside me, and I came undone. He stood up and unbuttoned his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. His rock-hard erection stood proudly, and I wanted him. He climbed between my thighs and grabbed his hardness, stroking my now soaked sex. It was slow and deliberate, taking me higher. I lifted my hips, and a smile curved his lips. “Is someone in need of me?” I nodded shyly, a blush heating my cheeks. Supporting his weight on his left arm, he positioned himself at my entrance. As he slid into me, I moaned. He was taking his time, teasing himself inside me, inch by inch. “Slowly babe.” His mouth was at my ear, sending torturing shivers over my body. Once he had bottomed out, buried to the hilt inside me, his hips rolled, hitting my sweet spot. I grabbed his neck, pulling his mouth to mine. His kiss was heated, and I could taste my arousal on his lips. Our tongues danced in unison, and I felt the knot in my stomach tightening.
“You feel so good, Emily,” Bash growled in my ear. His thrusts hastened, and I knew he was close. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. I closed my eyes, and Triston’s face stared back at me. And as I came undone, his face was the only thing I saw.
* * *
“Bash, this is beautiful!” We were standing at the top of the Chrysler Building. “But isn’t this closed off to the public?” I turned to see a sparkle in his eyes.
“It is, but we’re not public. My new investor, Mr. Richards, has offices up here, so I have access.” He wrapped his arm around me and held me close. His intoxicating scent washed over me and sent my senses into overdrive. The view was magnificent. “I have an idea.” He walked over to the computer in the conference room we were standing in and started typing. The speakers around the room came to life, and I recognized the song. It made me smile, but deep down, it tugged at my heart. The song was called “One Last Night” by Vaults. “Dance with me?”
I slipped my hand in his as he pulled me close, with his one hand on my lower back. I closed my eyes and rested my head on his chest, taking him in.
“Bash.” I looked up as the song came to an end. His caramel eyes burned into me. “Thank you, for giving me this.”
“It’s not me giving it to you, Emily. This is all you. You know how I feel about you, but I know you love him. I just wish we had met first.”
I stepped away and closed my eyes. The tears that threatened to spill burned. “Maybe.” He turned me around, and my eyes locked with his. “I love you, Bash, I do. So much. I just . . .” My voice trailed off, and I didn’t know how to say it.
“Just?” His gaze was inquisitive.
“I just love him more.” He nodded. It was evident how I felt about both brothers. I would never love anyone the way I loved Triston. It was an all-consuming love. The thought of never seeing him again pulled at my heart, and it winded me.
“Tomorrow we finish the painting.” His voice laced with sadness.
“Well, we have till Thursday. So, I mean . . .” I found myself not wanting to let this end. I didn’t want to lose him. He would still be a client, but that wasn’t the same thing. “Unless you want to finish tomorrow?” Why did I feel like a love-sick teenager? Maybe because I was acting like one.
“No, I want as much time with you as possible. Will you stay over tomorrow night?” I nodded. He pulled me into his warm embrace as we swayed in the silence of the room.
* * *
Groaning at my phone alarm, I picked it up and shut it off. Bash had dropped me off at home just after midnight. Unlocking my phone, I found a message from Triston.
Triston: Friday, 10 am at the penthouse. I can’t wait to see your beautiful face. T xo
I hit reply, staring at the blinking cursor, toying with my words.
Em: Are you flirting with me, Mr. Hart?
I got out of bed and padded to the kitchen. Coffee was needed. I had some work to finish, and then I had to get ready for my last day with Bash. The kettle boiled, and I took it through to my office just as my phone beeped.
Triston: Miss Reid, if flirting will get me your forgiveness then yes, I am*
He was distracting me now. I was going to forgive him, but I wanted to tell him face to face. We had the most amazing chemistry. He made me feel whole, like I was the only thing in his life that kept him going. I hit reply.
Em: Well, I suggest you should continue the flirting, Mr. Hart. Now I have work to do. My demanding boss is such a slave driver.
I giggled. I knew he would have something smart to say about that. A knot of anticipation tightened in my belly as I watched my phone.
Triston: It will continue until you’re screaming my name... Oh wait, that’s not flirting, is it? ;) This boss of yours sounds terrible.
I giggle at his reply. The butterflies were going wild in my stomach.
Em: No, Mr. Ha
rt, that is most definitely not flirting. You better think about this carefully.
I opened my laptop and logged into the email system — only six new e-mails. Nothing I couldn’t handle and have finished by midday. I was excited to see the painting as Bash was so talented I was sure it would be amazing.
* * *
My buzzer startled me from my book at midday. “Hello?”
“It’s me.” Bash’s deep voice came through the intercom. I buzzed him up. Opening the door, I waited for him to reach the landing when my heart stopped. Dressed in his ripped painter jeans and a black tank top, I took in his appearance and flushed. “You look a little flushed gorgeous.”
“I was just, um . . .” I stepped back and let him in. I couldn’t tell him he had me blushing.
“I’m sure you were.” He winked and flopped down on the sofa. “Are you ready to get dirty?” His smirk was devilish, and I could tell he was in a good mood.
“What?”
He chuckled at my shocked expression. “Painting, darling. Were you thinking about naughty things again?”
“No!” I giggled. His expression was disbelieving. He leaned back, crossing his hands behind his head and his tank rode up. His toned abs peeked out the top of his jeans, and I licked my lips.
“Would you like to join me?” I walked toward the sofa and straddled him, his strong thighs below me. “I like this position. We need to try this later.” Grabbing my ass, he pulled me to him. His kiss was warm, his tongue licking my lips. I could feel his arousal between us. Rocking my hips, I rubbed against his jeans, causing a deep growl in his chest. “Or right now!” He tugged at the tank top I was wearing and pulled it up over my head. “Oh god, Emily.” His voice was laced with desire when he saw I wasn’t wearing a bra. His mouth assaulted my hardened nipples.
I moved my hips back and forth over him. He was rock hard, the front of his jeans straining against the zipper. “Bash . . .” I moaned when his fingers found my heated sex. He pushed two fingers inside me. I rocked back and forth on his fingers.
“Come for me, gorgeous. Give me your pleasure this last time.” His words brought tears to my eyes. I moved faster as his fingers brought me to the edge.
“Bash!” I cried out as he stroked my sweet spot, pushing me over. My orgasm ripping through me.
“That’s it.” Pulling his fingers from my sweatpants, he gripped my hips, holding me to him. His mouth crashed on mine as he devoured me. My heart felt physical pain as I kissed him.
“Don’t cry, Emily. It’s okay.” I shook my head because I didn’t trust my voice. How had I fucked this up so much? “It is. Don’t be sad. Let’s go paint!” I looked down at his erection still very much at attention, and I giggled. He looked at where my gaze had landed and smiled. “That you can take care of later.” It felt like I was riding on an emotional rollercoaster, and I wanted to get off now.
“Let’s go.” I got up and grabbed my phone and keys. “I don’t need anything, do I?” He shook his head as we went downstairs.
Chapter Nineteen
Bash unlocked his apartment, and I stepped inside. “Did you want a drink, darling?” I nodded. Walking to the kitchen, I slid onto the stool.
“Can I have a beer?” Bash turned. The look of amusement on his face made me giggle.
“Yes, sure.” He walked to the refrigerator. “So, you ready for the last session?” I nodded. I wasn’t ready. Far from it. Bash handed me the beer, and I drank it down. I want to find some dull for the ache.
“Can you put some music on?”
“Sure, darling. Are you going to get changed?” I nodded, downing the rest of my beer. I went into the bedroom, and I found the robe on his bed and smiled. This was it. I pulled off my tank top and tugged my sweats down. Pulling on the robe, I tied the belt around my waist and went back into the living room. Bash had taken his tank off and already had paint splattered on his chest. “Ready? I was getting another drink.”
“Yup, I am ready; I will have another drink, please. Meet you up there.” I took the spiral staircase slowly and dropped the robe on the table. Sitting on the stool, I got into position and waited. When I heard Bash’s footsteps on the metal steps, my heart raced.
“Emily! My god!” His eyes roamed my naked body, and they burned with a fire I came to know so well.
“I thought you should finish it properly.” I smiled, feeling a blush on my cheeks.
“Wow, darling. You didn’t have to do this, you know?” I nodded. He handed me the beer, and I took a swig. Liquid courage, as they say.
“Can I see it when you’re done?” His eyes met mine as he picked up the paintbrush. Mixing the green and blue, he smiled.
“You can.”
* * *
“That’s it!” Bash announced. My heart was racing. Grabbing the robe, I wrapped it around me and tied the belt. Walking around the canvas, I gasped. It was one of the most amazing works of art I had ever seen. It was an abstract version of me, and it was beautifully romantic. The colors were vibrant and calming if that even made sense. The passion in the way the colors blended, the serenity of the strokes. Everything about it was magnificent. Tears threatened to spill. I had never seen anything more beautiful made for me, or about me.
“Bash . . .” My voice was a ragged whisper. My throat tightened from the emotion I felt. He really loved me. I could feel it scream at me through the canvas.
“You don’t like it, do you?” He sounded tense.
“It’s perfect!” I turned to face him. He was only an inch away from me. I looked up into his hazel eyes. “I love it like I love you.” The words were hushed, but the emotion I felt saying it was raw.
“I love you too, my sweet girl.” Grabbing the belt of the robe, he pulled me toward him. I wrapped my arms around his sweaty, paint-splattered torso and held on tight. The song that floated through the speakers felt like it was meant for us. The lyrics holding us in a moment that felt so perfect and imperfect all at once.
Bash and I stood swaying slowly till the song ended and the next one started. His hands felt warm on my back, slow strokes down my spine. I looked up at him, and his mouth crashed onto mine. Lifting my hands, I tangled them in his spikey hair, pulling him into me, taking him one last time. His tongue tangled with mine in an erotic dance. Untying the sash of the robe, his hands slid beneath, cupping my breasts in his strong hands. My nipples hardened to his touch. I arched my body into him, wanting to feel every part of him against me. My mind repeated my goodbye. He spun us around, pushing the papers onto the floor, lifting me onto the drawing table. Dropping the robe from my shoulders, he stepped back, taking me in again, almost as if he was committing my appearance to memory.
“This I want to savor.” He kissed his way down my body with slow and sensual licks, nibbles, and his fingers followed the trail. My skin on fire. When he got to my slick sex, his tongue snaked its way inside me. I moaned, leaning back, closing my eyes. My heart was calm, and at that moment, as I came undone on his tongue, I knew what this was. It was the end.
He stood up, unbuttoning his jeans. My eyes locked on his as he slowly entered me. The finality gripped me, and I knew I would be okay. I was going to be with Triston. As much as I loved Bash, I did love Triston more.
* * *
I watched the screen silently as the movie didn’t make sense anymore. The painting was finished. Bash had dropped me at home about an hour ago. Tomorrow was Friday, the day I would tell Triston the truth, and if he still wanted me, then we would be together. I wrapped myself in a blanket on my sofa. Bash wanted to stay, but I couldn’t let him. We said our goodbyes. Tears ran down my face. I knew I had fucked up, but it still hurt. More so than I wanted to admit to him or to Triston.
A knock on the door startled me. I wasn’t in the mood for company. Who was at my door so late anyway? I got up and padded to the door. I knew I looked like a zombie, but I didn’t care. I wiped my face with my blanket and turned the door handle. I looked up into ice-blue eyes.
“I c
ouldn’t wait till tomorrow.” He took in my appearance, and I saw the concern etched on his face. “Shit! Angel, what happened to you?” I shook my head and turned, walking back to the sofa. Triston closed the door, dropped the bag he was carrying and joined me. “Emily?”
“I slept with him, Triston. We fucked. I wanted to. I let him.” The words spilled out of my mouth. I didn’t care anymore. I knew Triston would leave. It was only a matter of time. I didn’t deserve him or Bash. The tears I held at bay every time I saw Triston spilled now. My vision blurred. I just sat there looking at him. I had nothing else to give him.
He flopped onto the sofa next to me and pulled me into him holding me tight against his chest. “Triston, I’m sorry.” I cried. My heart broke into tiny pieces. Everything felt out of control. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had punched me, winded me.
“Emily.” He pulled me up and grabbed my face in his hands. “Look at me!” I opened my eyes. His face was filled with every emotion I could think of. Anger, love, rage, lust, desire, and need. “I want you! I don’t care what you did. I told you to do it. I told you we were apart!” His voice broke through the pain I was feeling and melded into me. This is what Triston was for me. He was my healing ointment, and he made me better, healing me from the inside out.
“But—”
“Would you fucking obey me for once?” He didn’t shout out of anger. His eyes were filled with desire. This was pure, unadulterated lust.
“Yes, sir.” The words I uttered affected him, and suddenly I found myself on his lap, straddling him.
“Finally.” He grabbed my tank top and ripped it open. Yes, ripped, shredded. I gasped. He had never done that before. He groped me lustfully, his mouth assaulted my hardening buds, and I moaned. My body yearned for the pleasure from the pain Triston was so good at giving. His teeth grazed my nipples, causing me to whimper. My fingers tangled in his long hair.
