by Paige North
So utterly amazing. So perfect. Even as I cry out with muted, blissful pain.
Zayden Hawthorn fills me up, and I lean back to feel it all the way. My arms circle around his neck, my head drops back onto his shoulder, and he nibbles at my ear and traces the lines of my neck with his tongue. With all the muscles in his back, he holds me slightly elevated and bangs me ferociously. His other hand works my clit, pats it, and flicks it, working every angle until he finds the right one.
I don’t need my hands this time. He’s got it covered, and not only that, I’m going to come any moment. “Yes, Zayden…”
“That’s it. Me, nobody else. I claimed you as my own and now you’re mine, Bailey. Got that? Everything you need, you get it from me.” The rhythm of his strokes brings me higher, closer to letting go. For someone so rough and crude at times, his fingers are so delicate, putting just the right pressure on me. I can tell that he can be gentle when he wants. He can make love if he wants, just not tonight.
At that moment, I resolve to stop at nothing until I see the other side of him. There has to be more. I feel it in his touch, in his kiss, and the way he says my name. He can’t help being a man obsessed by a woman who perplexes him, and I’m honored that I drive him mad.
Before I can reach that final high, though, I’m being hoisted through the air, carried all the way to the couch, placed against the backrest, so he can get better leverage. And then, as I brace myself, he fucks me. Fucks me hard. Fucks me like the tease I’ve been, like the impertinent young woman he’s been trying desperately to tame. But I won’t shut up. I’ll keep challenging him, as long as he keeps saying stupid things that don’t make sense.
I don’t care how rich he is, I’ll keep pushing his buttons.
His fingers press my clit, as he fucks me harder, as he grunts with need.
He thought he was showing me who was boss, but right now, as I feel him building energy, getting closer to what he truly wants, as he slams his cock into me, balls slapping my ass, as I open up and receive him completely, I know the truth. I may have been the virgin last time, but right now, Zayden Hawthorn wants me as badly as I want him.
And that means I have far more power in this relationship than I ever imagined.
We can never do this again? he demanded. Yeah, right.
He’s a walking, talking contradiction. He wants me more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life, and I know it.
You couldn’t stay away. You had to have me again. You had to follow me. You hated seeing me with another man. You proved that you can’t control yourself around me.
I feel a surge of excitement, a thrill at the effect I have over this confident, arrogant, gorgeous billionaire who has intimidated me from the moment I lay eyes on him.
Suddenly, Zayden groans out loud, like being cut with pure pleasure. Maybe he’s used to getting what he wants, and in this case, he wanted to have nothing to do with me. But I affect him, I make him angry, I make him uncomfortable. I like that. Very much. And just as he comes into me, pumping his hot seed deep into my pussy, it’s enough to send me over the edge.
I let go along with him. Wave after wave of blinding white radiation shoots through me, wracking my muscles and numbing my brain. I love everything this man does to me, even as he drives me in-fucking-sane. I collapse onto the sofa and he falls on top of me, fighting for breath. His mouth is hot against my hair, his heart pounds against my back, and his hands continue to feel my body, even after his cock begins to loosen slightly. But then, he begins to harden again, and I know we could do this all night, but holy shit, I’m physically and mentally exhausted.
After feeling powerless for a week, it feels great having control again. For once, I don’t feel unsure of myself.
I just hope the feeling lasts. Somehow, I don’t think it will.
Zayden
The sun filters in through the blinds, waking me up slowly. It’s hazy in the room. I have to think for a minute about what I did last night, where I went, who did I end up with. That dreaded feeling of looking down to see who’s sleeping next to me is replaced with relief.
Bailey.
We did it again.
She shifts around, her long nude body writhing against mine in sleep, then we both hear it—an annoyed, raspy wail from far away. She sits up suddenly, her blonde hair mussed up over her face. “Shit.” Scrambling off the sofa, she nearly trips over the throw blanket’s fringed edges, grabs her shirt and panties and runs off without a word.
I lay on the couch looking up while she tends to the baby upstairs.
It’s not a terrible feeling, I realize with a shock. Waking up to a woman in the silent aftermath, as she runs off to take care of your child. There’s peace and contentment, and for a moment, semblance of a family, but it’s not real. It’s an illusion. She’s the nanny, Olivia is a daughter I never wanted, and the ethereal quality of the morning quickly evaporates.
I gather my shit and head upstairs. No staff is coming by today. I need a shower, a shave, and I should get the heck out of here before I seek out Bailey again. After telling her we couldn’t have sex again, we had sex again. And what’s more, she seemed to love every second of it. Like she knew I’d weaken, wouldn’t be able to follow through, and I hate feeling that way.
I stop at the baby’s room to peek inside to find Olivia sitting in the same T-shirt in the rocking chair holding the little midget that looks like me. There’s something maternal and peaceful about it, I don’t know why I’ve been so scared of the tiny human. She’s actually really cute the way she drinks from her bottle and leans against Bailey’s chest, probably listening to her heartbeat the way I did last night.
“Looks like everybody wants you,” I sigh, leaning against the wall.
Bailey smirks at me. “She was crying a long time,” she says in a sexy, throaty voice that’s soft with sleep. Her crossed legs bounce to a rhythm for the baby’s sake. Gorgeous legs, gorgeous woman. “I’m sorry I didn’t hear her in time. We should have a baby monitor downstairs.”
We don’t. We don’t because I didn’t want to hear crying in any part of the house, but it wasn’t so bad hearing her when I awoke. And what if something had happened to her? We wouldn’t have known and I’d have felt guilty if something would’ve been wrong. “I’ll order one,” I say matter-of-factly.
Bailey glances up at me with a grateful look. “I thought you didn’t want to—”
“I said I’ll order one.” I glare at her. The baby examines me like I’m a stranger watching her have breakfast. Because I am a stranger watching her have breakfast. I walk into the room and sit on the floor eye level with her on Bailey’s lap. Damn, she’s not cute, she’s beautiful. Of course she is. I mostly only sleep with beautiful women. “I have to say, she’s a very pretty baby. Of course, she is, she’s got my genes.” I try to turn it into a joke as the discomfort ripples through me.
That can’t be my child.
Can’t be.
Bailey smirks at me. “I’m sure her mama is just as beautiful.” Weird of Bailey to defend the mother, even though she knows she’s in jail somewhere. I guess that’s what I get for sounding smug, though I was kidding.
“Is she?” Bailey asks again, pushing me now.
I don’t answer. I don’t answer because she’s trying to get me to talk about it, but I don’t want to. I didn’t know Olivia’s mother very long, and it still bothers me knowing that she lied. I turn the tables around, let her answer the questions. “The baby’s taken to you, huh?”
Bailey stares at me, wondering why I brushed her off. Then she shrugs and gives Olivia an affectionate glance. “Yeah. We were strangers at first, but I think I’ve grown on her. Now we’re thick as thieves. Right, pumpkin?” She tickles the baby who smiles, as she bites on the bottle’s nipple.
“You look like you’ve been a big sister before. Have you?” I ask.
“Never.” An air of darkness shadows her face.
“Sorry to hear. I was a big brother once.” Wonde
r if we have something in common. Wonder lots of things about her, actually.
She shakes her head. Olivia reaches out to touch my hair, but I back away. She goes back to holding her bottle. “I’m an only child. My mom…she suffered lots of miscarriages over the years.”
“That must have been tough,” I offer awkwardly. That must really suck, to hope for the best and life lets you down over and over. I can relate in so many ways, and there’s my common ground with her.
“Thanks, it’s okay. She finally carried my little brother to full term, but he died at birth,” she says introspectively, still staring at Olivia. For a second, I can’t move. We have more in common than I originally thought. Maybe I was drawn to Bailey for more than just her spunk in that interview room.
“So, you’re not an only child, then,” I say. “You’re a big sister who lost her sibling.”
She nods sadly. “I guess. And the desire to be a big sister stuck with me, too, which is why I signed up with the nanny agency. Perhaps I thought being around little ones would quell that little nagging voice in my head.”
“Wow, that must be tough.” I scratch at my eyebrow. I imagine Bailey as a little girl anxiously awaiting the arrival of her little brother only to lose him before she could ever rock the big sister role. Watching her with Olivia, as Olivia finishes her bottle then cuddles warmly against Bailey, memories hit me out of nowhere.
As Bailey goes on talking about friends with large families and how she was always jealous of them and wanted a big family when she grew up, I see my baby brother, Callum, in my mind’s eye. Callum was two years younger than me. I adored him. Some kids find their younger siblings annoying, but I was in love with this kid. He had a happy smile and always wanted to show me what he could do.
Look at me jump, Zay!
Look at me roll, Zay!
You would never be able to tell that inside, he was dying. Literally. Such an active kid, so full of life. Like any normal person, I allowed myself to imagine a future with him, growing up as best friends, always having each other’s backs. But it wasn’t meant to be. Callum’s heart defect took a turn for the worst one night. And if I go there…if I think about it, I’ll enter a bad place.
I can’t.
“Zayden, are you okay?” Bailey dips her head to look into my eyes. I guess I went away for a second there.
“Yeah, fine.”
“You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
Because I had. Callum’s bright laugh was the single most memorable thing about my childhood, and for a few moments there, I saw him again. I look down to find my hands are shaking. I can’t do this. I can’t hang out in this room or come anywhere near the baby. They look so much alike, and that’s when I realize it’s not me Olivia looks like, it’s Callum.
I stand, staggering to my feet, and back into the door.
“Zayden, are you okay?” Her worried eyes are full of concern. I’m confusing the fuck out of her first by coming in to talk, then by leaving quickly. First, I claim her virginity, then I stay away from her, then I follow her on her night out with friends, then I wait for her to come home, then I open up to talk, but now I’m going to run away from it all.
Especially those goddamn memories.
Fuck.
I clear my throat and set my jaw. “I have to go shower and head out is all.” I have nowhere to go, nothing on my schedule for today, but I need to find something, because I can’t hang out at home and see these two interacting. I’ll go hang out at Bar None again, something, anything. Surely there’s a movie premiere or something I can crash.
Breaks my fucking heart. There was a reason why I asked Bailey to stay away from me, and it wasn’t just because Olivia interrupted my life. It’s because the two of them together remind me too much of what I lost.
My mom and my brother. For different reasons, but that’s when my old life ended.
Soon, my new life began, the one of hiding the pain. Of putting all my energies into my work. Full scholarship to Cornell and my plane rental business is what saved me, gave me something to focus on, think about every day. No, families aren’t for me. Been there, done that, and I can’t get sucked into the vortex one more time.
“I hope it wasn’t something I said.” Bailey cocks her head as she studies me.
“It wasn’t.”
She stands with the baby and takes a couple of steps toward me, but I back out into the hallway, away from her. Away from my daughter. Away from the past and the pain.
Bailey
Understanding Zayden has been a bit like experiencing the solar eclipse we had this August. He’s fully bright, radiant, and confident in himself, but then he slowly darkens, grows colder until he’s fully eclipsed by the moon, birds have stopped singing, and I can tell something is wrong. I’m guessing he’ll come out again at some point, but for now, I’ve spent nearly a week watching him hide again in eerie darkness.
What was it about that conversation in Olivia’s room that sent him running away?
What was it that I said?
I’ve thought about it so many times, and all I can gather is that he’s holding onto some kind of bitterness, maybe from a past relationship gone bad.
He was never married but that doesn’t mean someone didn’t break his heart…
I’ve researched Zayden online, but all the articles talk about is his business savvy. One article mentions he came from loving parents who later became estranged, and that’s all I have to go on. Add in a surprise baby, and I can see why his life might be a little stressed right now, but I wish I knew what it was exactly that made him swing from one end of the spectrum to the other when it comes to me.
We could talk about it. We have some things in common. It kills me that he puts up these walls when it seems to me that we could get along better if we’d actually interact.
Meanwhile, the time alone has allowed me and Olivia to grow even closer. She sits up now when I come into her room in the bright early mornings and grabs onto the crib railing, bouncing happily when I bring her her bottle. Our walks through the park are one of my favorite times of the day. We can take in the late fall surroundings, pick up pretty leaves, or watch the other children play in the playground.
Olivia looks like she wants to join them. She seems to think her lack of walking skills betray her, as she stares at the kids wide-eyed, awaiting the day when she, too, can climb those monkey bars and slide down those colorful slides.
But there’s sadness, too.
Olivia examines faces. Especially those of young women, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s looking for her mother. Do babies remember their moms after a while? I would think they do, and it breaks my heart that I can’t be that person for her.
“Hey, pumpkin,” I interrupt one particular staring session at a pretty, dark-haired woman with two toddlers. “It’s getting late. Let’s get you home for dinner, a nice bath, and bedtime.”
Olivia blows bubbles from her shiny, pouty lips. “Bbb-bbb-bbbbzzz-bbbb.”
I laugh out loud. She’s too freakin’ adorable. So much happier than during her first days.
A couple of older women walking through the park compliment me on my gorgeous little girl, and I thank them. It’s easier than explaining I’m not her mother, only the nanny. Besides, I’m starting to think of myself as her surrogate mom anyway. I know I shouldn’t—I’m supposed to stay impartial, detached, according to the nanny training videos they made me watch. And if Olivia’s real mom would come home from work every night to hug her little girl, I would have no issue keeping my distance, but that’s not reality.
Reality is: all she has is me.
And I’ve gotten super close to her because of it.
I’m in too deep and hope I don’t experience a full breakdown withdrawal when her mother gets out of prison and comes looking for her little girl. I wish Zayden would talk about her. I wish he would tell me what’s going on in his brain.
Stick to the job, Bailey. No more, no less.
Just as I’m walking in, something smells delicious. Helga is at it again, just as Vero pops out of a doorway I’ve never been through. “Oh, hello, Bailey and little Miss Olivia.” Vero nudges her perfect nose against the baby’s, but Olivia gives her evil ice stares. “We were just on the roof. Go look at the sunset. It’s gorgeous.”
The roof? Wow, I’ve been here two weeks and had no idea there was a patio for sunset viewing. She holds the door open for me. I walk through carrying Olivia, reaching back to grab her blanket off the kitchen counter and notice a circular stairwell leading up.
“Ooo, a secret passageway, pumpkin. Daddy’s house is a mystery, isn’t it?”
In so many ways. Starting with Daddy.
If it wasn’t obvious that Zayden is a billionaire before, it’s clear now. Only the richest residents of Manhattan would have a rooftop patio like this. Though it’s cold and windy the higher we go, the view is spectacular. The sun hasn’t even set yet. I’m amazed that Vero left without waiting for the grand finale. I guess that’s what happens when you’re used to something—you stop appreciating it.
Oranges and purples streak across a sky painted with thin clouds. The whole city is coming alive with dotted lights, and there’s energy I can’t even explain. New York City is just wonderful, and now, I’m one of the lucky few who get to experience it this way.
“Look, pumpkin, a live painting just for us.” I hold her close to me so she’ll stay warm. We sit on a lounge chair and watch the colorful collaboration of nature and mankind. Olivia and I keep each other toasty. We both have so much to think about, and I suspect the common thoughts are about her father. If only she could tell me what’s in her mind.
Once the sun disappears under the horizon, I clap and whisper into the wind. “Beautiful show. Thank you.”
I’m about to get up when I hear soft footsteps behind me. Zayden stands there holding a tumbler full of amber liquid. “So you found my best kept secret?” He hands me the glass.
