by Jax Hart
I rolled over and thumped my pillow. I always thought I’d become somebody and finally get discovered in New York. And I did. Just not in the way I had expected.
I’m going to kill Christine whenever she gets home. She texted at three a.m. that she “found her man” and wasn’t coming home. I texted her back demanding that she leaves with Kimmy when she was done cleaning the bar.
But, of course, Christine didn’t listen to me. She never does. I hoped she thoroughly enjoyed her “hot hookup” last night. It better have been good, because I’m going to tear her a new one.
I was just the anonymous woman caught telling off Rafael, until Christine tagged me in every post, revealing my identity. I really hoped she was drunk. Because if she did that to me sober, I was going to light her ass up. My Twitter, IG and Facebook all blew up overnight. I was the new “it” girl in New York, but all I wanted to do was stay in bed and hide.
At least it’s the weekend and most of my clients are home to take care of their dogs. My first walk isn’t until two. I pulled the sheet back and got up, wondering what surprises the day would bring.
After brewing a pot of coffee and taking a lukewarm shower, I still had hours to myself. I let my unruly hair air dry. It was as humid as a steam sauna. It was going to be another brutal day in the city. I had just pulled on a threadbare T-Shirt and another pair of denim cut offs, that somehow had become my signature style, when a loud knock coming from outside had the picture frames rattling on my wall.
“Shit. The press found me already?” I muttered under my breath as I walked on bare feet over to the peephole.
But it wasn’t the press.
Far from it.
Some huge, muscular guy stood on the other side. He hung his head and had a ball cap on backwards.
“Christine isn’t home.” I called out from my side of the door.
“I’m not here for Christine. I’m here for you.”
He raised his head. His eyes burned right through the door. His stare was so full of heat and promise that I jumped back as if it actually burned me.
Shit. He wasn’t some guy here for one of my roommate.
“Open up, buttercup.”
“What do you want?”
“YOU.”
I rolled my eyes and walked away.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Suit yourself!” I yelled.
Our conversation flowed easily through the thin walls.
“Come on, Selina. I need your help.”
I rolled my eyes again as my coffee maker beeped. I poured myself a cup, wincing at the thin, bland taste. I made it too weak again.
“I’ll buy you a latte.”
I set my mug down.
Shit.
He knew one of my weaknesses already.
I walked back to the door and opened it a crack, knowing the thin chain, still attached to the frame, wouldn’t stop him if he wanted to force his way inside. But something told me that wasn’t his style.
“If you try anything… weird… I’ll douse you with it again.”
His eyes shined.
His mouth smirked.
It did crazy things to me.
Things I didn’t like.
I hid my hand behind the door and dug my nails into my palm while, in my head, I screamed at myself, “DO NOT FALL FOR HIM!” My gut was sending flashing signs that read, “WARNING! DANGER AHEAD!”
I knew he was bad with a capital B.
I just stupidly thought I could keep up with him… That I wouldn’t end up as his toy.
But I’m digressing.
I unlocked the chain and stepped aside. With more bravado then I felt, I raised an eyebrow and asked, “What could you possibly need my help with?”
He walked inside. His presence dominated the tiny apartment. His eyes missed nothing as he looked around before pinning his hard gaze on me. “I need a new suit and a dog.”
“You’re joking, right?”
He grabbed my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “Nope.”
I counted to ten.
He smelled like heaven.
He made my heart pound with anger as much as it did with lust. It was a deadly cocktail of emotion. I knew it was all a ruse; a way to get what he wanted from me. So, I decided that it was about time to throw him off his steady axis and make his head spin. I’d spend half a day with him and, hopefully, drive him crazy. Not a good crazy either, a bad crazy. Then he’ll be out of my life and back in his Upper East Side world, where he belongs.
“I want Starbucks.”
“Fine. Let’s go.”
“And, if you are serious about getting a dog, you need to get vetted. No fancy breeds either. We’re going to the ASPCA Adoption Center on East 92nd and getting the saddest mutt we can find.”
“Done.”
He was agreeing too readily, and I still didn't trust him. But I had thought if I spent a few hours with him, he’d get over whoever he thought I was. I’m not some girl looking to get laid by the bad boy prince of Manhattan. Because I was just me—a curvy girl with no money, no real job, and a quick temper with a taste for things I can’t afford—while pretending I don’t care for those things anyway. He’d soon realize whatever he thought or felt between us yesterday was just a fluke and go back to chasing models and heiresses.
I grabbed my phone, a bottled water, my cross-body bag, and slipped on Converses that had seen better days. He waited for me to lock up and tried to hold my hand. I swatted him away, giving him a nasty look that only made him grin wider.
A light bulb went off inside my head. He liked the fight. It turned him on that I wasn’t crawling all over him or leading him back inside my bedroom. I was going to start switching things up, but slowly. If I all of a sudden, came onto him, he’d know exactly what I was up to and wouldn’t buy my sudden change of heart.
He walked toward a waiting Range Rover, idling at the curb, complete with a driver ready to usher me into the back seat.
“Nope.”
He raised an eyebrow and sighed, “What now?”
“We’re doing this my way. We’re walking.”
“It’s going to be ninety-eight degrees today.”
“So? We’ll sweat a little…”
“A lot.”
“Afraid?”
“Yeah. That you might start to smell…”
“Jerk!” I swatted his forearm as we started walking close together. We walked in comfortable silence until I started down the steps to the subway. He paused at the top.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Hell, no.”
“Hells yessss. This is how I roll. If you don’t like it… don’t come.”
We had a stare down. He swore under his breath.
“Afraid?” I challenged.
“No.”
“Ah, you think riding the subway is beneath you?”
“Stop putting words into my mouth, woman.”
“Excuse me?” I waited, with a hand on my hip.
He walked down a few steps, towering above me. “It’s okay. I like that sassy mouth of yours. It makes me want to do dirty things to you. Very. Dirty. Things.”
I turned around, annoyed at how it always came back to sex. But, as soon as I stepped down the last step and entered the dim tunnel, a small smack landed right across the denim stretched tight over my ass cheeks.
“Did you just…?” I whirled around, feeling my hair fly out around me.
“I did. I couldn’t help myself. But that was really nothing, babe. Don’t get so worked up.”
“Are you kidding? What makes you think it’s okay to touch me?”
He shrugged. “Because, the flush on your face tells me you liked it.”
“I’m angry you idiot, not turned on.”
“Just so you know…,” he bent down only a breath away from me, “I plan on touching you a lot… All over…”
My breath hitched. I’m as strong as they come but even my high walls can be breached. His
words and determination weaved magic around me. He was making me want the very things I swore to myself I wouldn't go near again.
“Not interested.”
“Really?”
“Nope. I have a vibrator no man can match.”
He didn’t reply as I swiped my prepaid NY transit card and went through the turn gate. Rafael hopped over it.
“No. That’s just not right. You’re a millionaire.”
“So? I’m a bad boy at heart,” he winked.
I rolled my eyes and stood, waiting for the train. As it entered the tunnel, its squeaky brakes made me wince. But riding public transit is part of being in New York. Unless you were born a millionaire, I suppose. He didn’t say a word as he boarded behind me. He stood close, too close…protecting me, shielding me from the other passengers entering the compact train car.
“I ride this multiple times a day. It’s fine.”
“Fuck. I should've been a train.”
The sexual tension was thick. I tried ignoring the heat between us. I was stupid for thinking it would pass when it only kept getting worse. Why in the hell was I spending the day with him? I wanted to smack myself on the forehead. Finally, the doors opened, and we stepped off. He was true to his word and treated me to Starbucks before he waltzed into a store I’d never heard of before.
“Mr. Edwards. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Harry.” Rafael dipped his head. “Allow me to introduce my girlfriend, Selina.”
I stood mortified in my dirty, dog-walking shoes and unbrushed hair. “H-hi,” I stammered. “Girlfriend?” I hissed into Rafael’s back.
“Just go with it,” he replied. I practically hid behind his back, embarrassed by my appearance and obvious poverty. Old wounds began to surface. Half of my strength is all bullshit; a band-aid covering the gaping holes of insecurity that followed me from New Mexico to Manhattan.
“How can I help you today?” The salesman asked Rafael.
“Give us a minute, Harry.”
Rafael turned to me, pulling me into his arms as he lowered his head and cupped my cheek, “Que tienes, amor?”
I gasped as he spoke softly, in perfect Spanish, to me, asking me what was wrong. His eyes were fierce, but tender, as they looked at me. For that brief second, I wanted to be his. I took a deep breath, opened my eyes and answered, “No es nada. Es una estupides.” I smiled, telling him that it was nothing, that it was something stupid. He didn’t believe my lie, but he let it go.
“Come on. Let’s get you another suit.”
“Finish your Frappuccino first.”
I grinned, sucking down ice-cold deliciousness.
“Fuck,” he groaned.
“What now?”
“Nothing…. But watching your red lips wrapped around that straw while you suck has me imagining them wrapped around something else.”
“Do you ever think about anything else besides sex?”
“Since I met you, it’s all I can think about.”
“And that’s why this will never work,” I whispered to myself. I wanted to be so much more than some rich man’s dirty, wet dream—wanted a man to value all of me, I was so much more than a hot-blooded Latina. But no man had ever bothered or tried to get anywhere deeper than hitting my G-spot. No one wanted to touch my soul. And that’s why I needed to stick to my plan to get him out of my life as quickly as possible. Because I knew I’d want things I could never have.
Rafael walked towards the sales guy looking like the alpha male he was. Even dressed down in street clothes, he had an aura of supreme power about him. It must be a confidence that’s just bred into you, I guess. Even if I dressed myself up in clothes just as expensive as the ones in this store, I’d never wear them the way in which they were meant to be worn: with complete confidence.
“Selina? What do you think of this one?” Rafael lightly touched a bolt of fabric in light blue.
“No. You’d just look like an Easter egg.”
“Hmm.” He put it back.
“Get another cream one. It looked good on you.”
“Did you just…give me a compliment?”
I shrugged. “So?”
“I like it. Keep them coming.”
“As if your ego needs to get any bigger.”
He grinned. “Make me another suit in the same fabric.”
“But, sir? What happened to the one you just picked up? Was there something wrong?”
“No. She happened. That’s what. My driver will pick it up when it’s ready.”
Rafael pulled out a black American Express card and paid for another custom suit. I swallowed hard and sucked down the rest of my drink when the cashier rang him up. Twenty-five grand. And he just spent it on a suit. It made me angry. Ridiculously angry at how cavalier people who have money are with it.
“I need to go.”
Rafael frowned as he put his card back into his wallet. “Running again?”
“No. I have a client at two. He’s very big and uses a lot of tongue.”
Rafael stilled for a minute before he caught on. “It sounds like you’ll need protection.”
“I never leave home without it,” I baited. I was referring to my pepper spray, but he didn’t know that.
“Where do you need to be?”
“Park Avenue.”
“That’s near me.”
I shrugged and walked out.
“What’s up?”
“Nada.”
“Don’t bullshit me, Selina.”
I threw my empty Starbucks cup into the trash and kept walking. His long legs caught up to me in three strides. I turned to him, “There’s so much twenty-five-thousand dollars can do for most people. And you just spent it on something that will hang in your closet.”
“I work damn hard for what I have. I won’t apologize for it.”
“Please, give me a break. You? Work hard? That’s a joke. It must’ve been very hard growing up on your Daddy’s estate in Greenwich.”
“You don’t know shit about me. Or how I grew up.” He retreated somewhere inside himself. I winced, knowing I must’ve hit a nerve.
“Okay. Fine. I’m sorry.”
“Finally. But it’s a day late though.”
God, the man got under my skin. “Fine. Are we done yet?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Fine,” I snapped, “I’ll decide for you. I’m leaving and you are going home.”
“Wow. I get it.”
“Get what?”
“Why you’re single. Your mood swings are a goddamn nightmare.”
“You’re the nightmare and every woman in Manhattan knows it.”
“I pegged you for a girl who is too smart to believe gossip.”
“Are you denying cheating on your ex?”
“No. I did that.”
“See? I was right. You are a jerk.”
“She deserved it. She was terribly vanilla in bed and just wanted the social status of being linked to me. But you, Selina, I bet you are just as fiery, maybe more so, in the bedroom. And clearly you are not impressed by my money.”
“You’ll just have to keep wondering. Puerco.”
“Really?”
I nodded my head. He was such a pig; the way he talked about his ex and the pathetic excuse he gave for cheating on her.
“Give me five minutes alone with you and I’ll have you begging for it.”
“I don't think so.”
“Shall we find out?”
“No. I know where you were last night—deep in skankville,” I baited, waiting for his reaction.
“So? I bet you wish it was you I was with.”
“Ni en tus suenos.”it
“Mentiroso.”
“I’m not a liar!”
“Maybe you’re just lying to yourself, carino.”
“Whatever.”
“Are you always this difficult?”
“No. But that’s a story for another day.”
“Ah, I knew it. You want
to see me again.”
“Grrrrr!” I stomped my foot. “Can’t you just go already?!”
“Nope. I’m going with you. You promised to help me get a pet, remember? Or are you someone who breaks your word?”
“God. I really hate you.”
“You and apparently every other woman in New York.”
“At least you got that through your thick head.”
“Well, maybe a pet will help me be less lonely.”
“You? Lonely? That’s a joke. Maybe it’d be cruel to let an animal believe it’s being rescued when all you’ll probably do is leave it alone in some mausoleum of an apartment.”
“My pet will want for nothing.”
The way he said it when he looked at me, I knew he wasn’t referring to a dog. I didn’t speak as I headed towards Park Avenue and entered the lobby, where the doorman greeted me by name. I punched in the elevator code and half-expected Rafael to try something cute with me once we were inside. But he didn’t.
I reached into my purse for the key I was given, “Stay back. Rufus likes to get a bit frisky.”
“He’s not the only one.”
Rafael stood still behind me and placed a hand over mine, pulling the door shut at the same time I had started to push it open. His body caged me in. His free hand swept my long hair aside. “Selina,” he whispered, right before his lips found the back of my neck.
I closed my eyes and gripped the handle to prevent me from swaying. He was seducing me a thousand different ways. The arguing, baiting, heated looks and stolen touches.
I couldn't let him win. I wouldn’t be just another victim who falls for him. Because, if I did, I knew all I’d be left with would be the ghost of his touch and a shattered heart.
I pushed firmer and the door swung wide. Rufus woofed excitedly, and all one hundred plus pounds of him came galloping down the hall. With a wicked grin, I stepped aside at the last second and Rafael ended up getting creamed by him.
Crap.
My stupid, foolish heart started picking up speed. Instead of getting annoyed, rich laughter erupted from him as he bear hugged the dog while Rufus licked his face.
In street clothes and in this unguarded moment where his laugh was genuine, I knew he was a man I could seriously fall for. That made him more dangerous than that mob guy, Johnny Lamatti, who’s always being photographed around town. I moved to grab the leash, “I hate to break up this… love-fest but he probably needs to pee.”
