by Penelope Sky
“Don’t fucking call me that. I’m not your baby if other women are sending you pictures of their tits.”
He stepped closer to me.
I stepped back. “Come near me, and I swear…” I shook my head, ready to strike with everything I had.
He stopped. “I’m one of her best customers, and she’s obviously trying to entice me—”
“Would she do that if you told her you were seeing someone?” I snapped. “You obviously haven’t told her that.”
His nostrils flared again. “I don’t explain myself to people. I don’t even text her back. I’ve been so absorbed in you that I forget about the message the second she contacts me.”
“Then why do you still have all those pictures on your phone?”
He bowed his head slightly. “I haven’t looked at those in a long time. Honestly, I forgot they were even there.”
I rolled my eyes again.
“I’m telling you the truth.”
“Get the fuck out, Heath.” I turned around and walked away, moving to the other side of the bed.
He didn’t come after me. He bent down and picked up his phone from the ground. Then he had the audacity to press his thumbs against the screen and text someone.
“May as well tell your whore you’ll be there in a few minutes—”
“Shut the fuck up.” He lifted his gaze and came toward me, naked with his phone in his hand. He grabbed my wrist and shoved the phone into my hand. “I deleted all the photos. And I texted her back. Look.”
Out of defiance, I didn’t.
He raised his voice. “Now.”
I raised the phone to my face and read the message he’d already sent. I’ve got a woman, Dynasty. Don’t text me photos anymore, because my woman just saw it and she’s losing her fucking mind because she’s so head over heels for me that she can’t think straight. And I’m just as head over heels for her.
I couldn’t lift my gaze to look at him.
“Scroll up.”
“What?”
He pressed his finger to the screen and scrolled up, showing all the times she’d texted him and he never replied.
I dropped the phone and finally looked at him, still pissed.
“Yes, I would be fucking pissed if you had some other guy’s junk on your phone. Yes, I’d be pissed if some guy was hitting you up in the middle of the night. But I know you would never mess around on me. Because I trust you.” He got closer into my face. “I fucking trust you.” His blue eyes pierced into mine. “I admit I should have deleted those photos now that I’m committed to you, but I just forgot about them. You need to trust me, Catalina. Because I’m your man, and as your man, you can trust me—implicitly.” He turned away and walked back to his clothes on the floor. He started to get dressed, no longer looking at me. “Let me know when you’re ready to apologize.”
“Apologize?” I asked incredulously. “You should have told her you were in a relationship. You should have deleted those photos. All of this happened because of you.”
He turned back to me, his gaze dark. “You shouldn’t have fucking snooped through my phone in the first place.”
“Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just told the woman you weren’t available—”
“And none of this would have happened if you fucking trusted me.” He grabbed his wallet and keys off the nightstand. “Yes, I could have handled that better, but so could you. And your response to all of this is far worse than what I did in the first place.” He didn’t look at me again before he walked out, slamming the door hard behind him just to remind me how pissed he was.
A week passed.
He didn’t text me. He didn’t stop by my apartment. He didn’t come to my performances.
He disappeared.
I was too stubborn to apologize for it, so I held on to my silence, spent my evenings at home alone, making dinner for myself with the groceries he’d dropped off last time he was there.
But after days came and went, I started to look at my phone more often, expecting him to text me.
He never did.
When the full week came and went, I began to get scared.
What if he’d moved on? What if he’d called Dynasty? What if he’d stopped waiting?
What if I’d lost him?
The fear was so overwhelming that I swallowed my pride and drove over there, not caring that it was almost midnight, terrified he would have another woman at his place when I walked inside.
I didn’t park in the garage because I felt like I’d lost that privilege and parked at the curb. I entered the code, relieved he hadn’t changed it, and stepped inside his home.
It was quiet.
I took the stairs to the main floor, listening for the sound of the TV, the sound of life. I reached the main room, seeing nothing. The kitchen was untouched, and the living room was vacant. “Heath?” I raised my voice, hoping he wasn’t in his bedroom…with a guest.
I heard nothing in response.
I moved into the hallway and stared at his bedroom door. It was wide open. “Heath?”
Nothing.
I turned to the stairway and moved to the third floor. My last hope was he was in his gym, and if not, he just wasn’t home. I approached the glass walls and spotted him in front of the mirror, lifting heavy dumbbells as he did his curls.
I closed my eyes in relief, so thankful he was home, thankful he didn’t have a visitor watching TV on his couch or lying in his bed. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
His headphones were on his ears, so he didn’t notice me, not until I stepped farther into the room and made a reflection in the mirror on the wall. His eyes flicked to me in the mirror, his arms by his sides as he continued to grip the weights.
He was still, staring at me for several seconds, not the least bit happy to see me.
Was I too late?
He carried the weights to the racks and set them down before he pulled the headphones off his head. “About fucking time.” He set his headphones on the bench then loosened his black gloves from his hands. He pulled them off and tossed them on the ground, turning to face me and stare at me in the flesh.
His heart hadn’t softened in our separation. He was just as angry as he’d been the day he walked out. He wasn’t even impressed by my appearance, by my short dress and heels. He was normally so infatuated with the way I looked that he couldn’t keep his hands off me. That attraction had disappeared.
He stared at me coldly, sweat on his forehead and his chest from his workout. “You have something to say to me?” he barked.
God, he was terrifying when he was mad. I came closer to him, my arms over my chest. “I wasn’t going to apologize…but then I got scared.”
His chest continued to rise and fall from his heavy breathing, from lifting those heavy weights.
“I got scared you would be with someone else…”
He didn’t confirm or deny my fear. “This is a shitty apology.”
I dropped my gaze, feeling the pain start in my chest and move up my throat. “I know why I reacted that way, and it’s just because I was so hurt, so jealous, so…scared. I panicked. I know I overreacted. And it’s because of exactly what you said…because of the way I feel about you.” I lifted my gaze again, feeling the tears start to burn my eyes.
His expression didn’t change—at all.
“I don’t know how it happened, but you’ve become so important to me, giving me a relationship I never thought I would find. I sit in the bar alone and feel so numb…because there’s no one else in this world I’d rather be with. I just want to go home and be with you. You protect me. You make me happy. And I just… I can’t even stand the idea of you being with someone else—”
“Apologize to me.”
I stilled, my watery eyes looking into his.
“You’re telling me everything I already know. You think I don’t already know how you feel about me? You think I’m at your beck and call because I have nothing else to do? Trust me, I
know. I know every time we’re together. So, shut up and apologize to me.”
I inhaled a deep breath and felt the tears escape. “I’m sorry…”
The second the words were out of my mouth, he dropped his hostility. “I’ve been home alone, every night, waiting for my fucking phone to ring. And you know that.”
I wiped my tears away and sniffled.
A gentle smile came over his lips. “I like it when you get jealous. Means I’m doing something right. Just tone it down a little.”
I chuckled through my tears, rolling my eyes at the same time. “You fucking asshole…”
He moved into me, his sweaty arms wrapping around my waist, getting his moisture all over me.
But I didn’t care.
His hand slid into my hair, and he brought his face close to mine. “Baby.”
I closed my eyes when I heard him say that word, felt his entire presence surround me, protect me.
“Believe me or don’t believe me…”
I opened my eyes.
“But I don’t even look at anyone else…only you.”
Five
Heath
With her back against my mattress, I was between her legs, my arms behind her knees and keeping her legs apart. I rocked my hips and moved deep inside her, feeling her tight cunt squeeze me with a strength that contradicted her size. “Does a man fuck a woman like this if he wants someone else?” Her apology wasn’t enough. I was still pissed, furious, that a week of my life had passed without her in it because she took so fucking long.
Her hands cupped my neck, her fingers gliding to my cheeks.
“Answer me.”
“No…” She breathed with me, moaned with me, pulled me close like she never wanted to let me go. She’d lost her shit when she saw that message, going back in time like I was trying to kidnap her next to her car. Emotional, fiery, crazy…she lost all sense of reality. And that was all because of me.
“Apologize to me.” I rocked into her hard, smacking the headboard against the wall, driving my dick deep inside her to claim her.
She gripped my biceps and dug her nails into my flesh, her tits rocking up and down as I rammed into her. Her lips parted, and she breathed through the explosive pleasure between her legs.
“Now.” I wasn’t going to let this go easily. I was the kind of man that held grudges—her brother could attest to that.
“I’m sorry…” She spoke against my mouth, one hand cupping my face, her eyes filled with emotional desire. “Babe, I’m sorry.” She didn’t call me that often, but when she did, it wrapped around me like a collar, like she claimed me in a whole new way.
I slowed down, loving the way she looked, loving the way her hair was all over the place, the way her green eyes were filled with so much, overflowing with thoughts and emotions. She’d stood in front of me and confessed how much I meant to her, that the mere idea of me wanting someone else drove her crazy.
I loved to drive her crazy.
I brought our faces together and thrust inside her slowly, my eyes locked on hers so we could enjoy the steady movement of our bodies. I was still pissed, but when I looked into those green eyes, it was easy to forget her error, easy to forget her tantrum. “You better be.”
She was timid around me for a few days, as if she was embarrassed about the entire thing.
She should be.
I stepped out of the shower and tossed my towel into the hamper in my closet.
She was in bed, scrolling through her phone, buck naked on the sheets because we’d spent the afternoon fucking. When she heard the sound of the towel fall, she lifted her gaze and looked at me, her eyes roaming over my hard body, like she hadn’t just gotten my dick for the last few hours. Come seeped from her entrance at that very moment.
I pulled on a new pair of boxers and got into bed beside her.
Now that I was back, her phone was forgotten, and she turned all her attention on me. Her hand moved to my hard stomach as she lay close to me, her hair pulled back from her face, her chin perfectly curved up and away from her neck like a movie director did it that way on purpose. She hadn’t put on her makeup, but she was so stunning that way, her olive-toned skin infused with a single freckle.
I’d been with a lot of beautiful women in my lifetime…but none like her.
Her fingers gently stroked my abs, her eyes watching her movements before she looked at me again. Her usual fire was gone. Now she looked slightly uncomfortable, like she didn’t know how to behave around me.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Her tantrum the other day had only made me want her more, made our passion escalate through the roof. In the moment, I was pissed she would think so little of me, but once I walked away, I realized it had nothing to do with my character. She was just so into me, so possessive of me, that she couldn’t control her emotions. It was hot.
She lifted her gaze and looked into my eyes, her fingers stopping. “I know…”
Now I wanted her more than I had before, because being with a woman who was so sprung on me was sexy. Well, not just any woman, but this woman. She wasn’t going to walk away from me anytime soon. I had her wrapped around my finger—nice and tight.
She grabbed her phone again and looked at the time. “I’ve got to go.” She started to sit up.
I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. “Go where? You still have a lot of making up to do.” A week without sex was insufferable. I went from having the best sex of my life on a nightly basis to being alone, to jerking off to the sight of her panties that she’d left behind. I didn’t even like jerking off in the first place. Why would I use my hand when I could have real pussy? “A lot more apologies to make.”
She stopped resisting me, letting me hold her wrist all I wanted, but a few months ago, she would have stabbed her fingers into my eyes to get free. “I know, but I have to work.” She seemed genuinely sad to leave me, like she wanted to stay there with me forever, like this week apart had been just as difficult for her. “I’ve got bills to pay.”
“I can pay all your bills.” The only time I gave a woman money was for sex, but I offered her everything I had for no real reason at all.
She rolled her eyes like she thought I was joking. “I love my job. I mean, I wish I didn’t have to go tonight, but…it’s fine.”
“What would happen if you didn’t?”
“My understudy would perform.”
“Has that ever happened?”
“No. I always show up. No matter what.”
“Well, good to know you have a replacement if I ever decide to tie you up.” She probably thought I was joking, but I definitely wasn’t. I got out of bed and pulled on my sweatpants so I could walk her to her car in the garage.
She got dressed too, pulling on the outfit she’d worn when she showed up last night. She didn’t bring a bag with her, probably because she had no idea where our conversation would go. She was afraid I’d already moved on with another woman.
Who? Who could possibly follow her?
I walked with her downstairs and into the underground garage, where I had my truck and other vehicles. She pressed the button on her keys to unlock her car, but before she opened the door to get inside, she turned to me, her eyes still somber.
“Don’t look at me like that.” I cupped her face with both of my palms, bringing her face close to mine. My fingers moved under the fall of her hair, cradling her close as I looked into those gorgeous eyes.
“I was so afraid of what I would see when I walked in there the other day…”
She knew how she felt about me, but she clearly had no clue how I felt about her. Maybe she wasn’t as smart as I gave her credit for. “No.”
She closed her eyes.
“We’re gonna fight—a lot. Doesn’t mean anything.”
She opened her eyes again.
“I said we would fuck the way we fight.” My thumb brushed across her bottom lip. “The fighting doesn’t stop the fucking.” I kissed the corner of her mouth before I
released her.
Now her mood had lightened, taking heart in what I said. She finally gave me a soft smile, feeling secure in this relationship once again. She rose on her tiptoes and kissed me on the mouth before she got into the car.
I hit the button on the wall and opened the garage, watching her until she pulled onto the street and disappeared.
I grabbed a program on my way inside.
Balto didn’t own anything remotely nice, so he walked inside wearing jeans and a shirt. When the usher reminded him of the dress code, he slipped him a couple hundred euro to shut his mouth. “I can’t believe I’m going to the fucking ballet.”
“You want to see my baby, right?”
He shrugged.
I handed him the program. “First page.”
He opened it and saw the picture of Catalina along with her description, her other performances as well as a few sentences about her personal life. It was a black-and-white photo, a picture of her side profile, her hair down one shoulder.
I had a program in my nightstand just so I could keep a copy of it.
He scanned it as he walked.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”
Balto seemed unimpressed, but he nodded. “Yeah.” He handed the program back to me.
We walked down the hallway and searched for the aisle to get to our seats.
I glanced in the other direction, for no reason at all, and stilled when I spotted someone familiar.
Damien.
He was with Anna and his father. Dressed in a suit like a prick, he held her hand as he searched for their seats.
Shit.
Then he started to turn my way.
I grabbed Balto by the arm and pulled him behind the pillar.
He moved with me but gave me a cold look. “Got a woman on your tail?”
“I wish.” I stayed put and watched Damien take his seat in one of the rows, moving to the opposite side of the theatre. “Damien is here.”
“Why does that surprise you?”
I came to her performances all the time, and not once had he shown up.
“You want to go?”
