BLISS: A Wedding Enemies to Lovers Alpha Bad-Boy Billionaire Romance

by Marr, Maggie

  I nod. Rachel waves and leaves. I pay for lunch, get in my car and drive to the place I used to call home.

  * * *

  “She put it on the market two days after yours,” Dell says and hands me my mail. “I been forwarding this to your sister’s like you asked, but these came yesterday.”

  “Thanks. You don’t know where she’s moving to?”

  “No idea, but unlike you, she’s still living here.”

  I turn to the elevator and ride up to the place I didn’t want to ever see again, but now need to. I knock on Tara’s door.

  Jango doesn’t bark.

  They aren’t here, Tara and Jango. Malibu? I don’t know. She hasn’t texted me and I haven’t texted her. I’ve picked up my phone a million times to text or call, but each time I stop. Denial works until it doesn’t, and based on the chasm in my chest, denial isn’t working any longer.

  My Wonderfuck phone vibrates. I pull it from my pocket.

  Want to play?

  Do I want to play? No, not really, not with any woman but Tara, but the text is from a number I haven’t seen in weeks, one that makes me feel more normal than I’ve felt since the night I left Tara in Malibu. Yeah, this is what I need to get back on track. I need to wonderfuck and there isn’t a better person to do it with, except Tara.

  I shake that thought from my mind.

  The woman on the other end of this text is just the woman to bring back Wonderfuck.

  You know I do.

  She sends back:

  :) Tomorrow. 9 pm. My place. Be ready to Rock. My. World.

  I’m not ready now, but my cock hasn’t ever failed me, so I’ll be ready to wonderfuck by then.

  Chapter 33

  Darlin’, did you think about my offer?”

  Cheryl stands across the living room. She wears a light pink negligee beneath an open silk robe. I walk toward her. My cock stirs. A smile curls over my lips. Thank God. All I need is a wonderfuck. Good, hard, physical fucking. Sex can cure anything. It can definitely cure my need for Tara.

  “I have.” I stand in front of Cheryl now. Her lush lips will look good around my cock. I glance down at her firm round tits and her nipples grow hard beneath my gaze.

  “And?” Her voice is a breathless purr. Desire rolls off of her. The scent of lust mixed with Chanel No. 5. She’s just returned from Asia and I’ve just returned from my emotional abyss at The London. We’re a perfect pair.

  “And?”

  “And I could be persuaded.”

  A smile simmers over her face. She reaches out and brushes her fingertips across the denim over my cock. I respond, like I always respond to Cheryl. My dick gets hard.

  “Missed me?”

  “Always.”

  “Ready to play?” she whispers.

  Am I? I wasn’t sure before now . . . I’ve never been unsure about wonderfucking Cheryl before. Her lush hair and curves are enough to send my cock into overdrive. She opens her robe and drops it to the floor.

  Gorgeous.

  Stunning.

  Her curves are full, and desire rolls off her in an intoxicating mix. My cock responds. He’s well trained and knows what’s meant to come next.

  “I’ve missed you.” Her hand reaches up and the pad of her pointer finger presses to my lips. Then that long fingernail traces down over my chin and neck, down my chest, over my abs, making a long trail to my pants. She keeps going until her hand meets my hard maleness.

  “Seems you’ve missed me too.” Her hands unbutton and unzip my pants. I close my eyes, ready for the physical pleasure that will make my mind stop spinning thoughts of Tara. She strokes my sex, her touch strong and able. Up and down my shaft.

  Pleasure. Pure physical pleasure.

  Her lust-filled eyes look at me as she sinks to her knees before my cock. Every man’s fantasy made real. I know what Cheryl likes. She wants me to be strong with her, to order her, to command her. She wants to be fucked hard and rough and fast. She likes to be dominated. I place my hand on top of her head and curl my fingers into her hair. I pull her forward to my cock. A long moan comes from her mouth.

  “Fuck yes,” she whispers.

  I hold my cock in my hand. “Say it,” I order, my voice a harsh command.

  “I love to suck your huge cock.” She licks her lips and opens her mouth.

  For an instant, a millisecond, I see Tara’s face. Gorgeous and smiling and looking at me with eyes that shine bright with more than physical want. Eyes that shine bright with love. I pause—I rip the image of Tara from my mind. I’m not that man. I am Wonderfuck. I grasp the back of Cheryl’s head and shove my cock in her mouth.

  Her lips surround my sex. Heat and suction and pleasure. My fingers tighten in her hair. Her lips stroke forward and back along my shaft. I close my eyes and sink into the pleasure of her mouth, but thoughts, images, Tara invades mind.

  No. Fuck. No. I take a breath. I refocus. Heat. Wet. Suction.

  Shit.

  “Uh, darlin’?”

  Fuck.

  Cheryl holds my limp, lifeless cock.

  Nothing.

  This has never happened to Wonderfuck.

  She slides her hand up and down my cock, working my limp flesh. I watch her mouth open and take me between her lips again. I will him to get hard. Cheryl’s tits, her hot sex, the thrust, her mouth . . .

  Nothing. Nada. No. Fucking. Way.

  Cheryl continues for what feels like forever. Finally, she pulls away from me and leans back onto her heels.

  “Happens to the best,” she says, standing. She picks up her robe from the floor, wraps it around her body, and walks across the room to the bar. My head throbs. My chest is tight, and a feeling like shame thunders through me. I tuck my lifeless cock into my pants and sit on the couch. What the fuck. Cheryl returns and hands me a drink.

  She settles onto the other end of the couch with a glass of scotch.

  “Maybe it’s time you retire.”

  “Don’t stroke my ego.” I sip my whiskey. “They shoot racehorses, don’t they?”

  We’ve wonderfucked enough to understand how the other one thinks. “You know that’s not what I meant.” She puts her glass on the table and leans closer to me. “Say yes to my offer. Come and be with me.”

  Come and be with her? I close my eyes, and I see the same face that’s been in my dreams for weeks. I swallow. If I commit, shouldn’t I commit to a woman I actually love? If I settle for this, for what’s easy and safe, doesn’t that just make me a fucking coward? I open my eyes and I look at Cheryl. If I wanted a relationship with continuity and without demand, Cheryl would be the perfect match.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  What to tell her? I’m not even sure of the answer. I just know that if I’m going to commit to one woman, it’ll have to be a woman I love, even if that means the potential for heartbreak.

  Cheryl smiles and grasps my hand. Her gaze is warm and she squeezes. “You’ll never receive a better offer . . . Jake.”

  Frozen. My heart palpitates, and blood drains from my face.

  “Darlin’, don’t look so surprised. You know a woman like me couldn’t have a man into my home without knowing everything about him.” She lifts her hands toward the ceiling. “I mean come on. Look around. This is simply too much unless I trust you, and how can I trust you unless I know you? Or about you.”

  I’m not surprised. Really. I guess.

  “You’re a smart man. I always assumed you knew that I knew everything about you, but wanted to keep up the charade.” She rubs her fingertips across my jaw. “You know. To keep it hot.”

  I take a long drink of whiskey and fire slides down my throat. All kinds of surprises tonight. Perhaps too many.

  “But please, Jake, don’t tell me that you’re giving me up for that little journalist of yours.” She keeps her smile, but Cheryl’s eyes narrow and her gaze hardens. “I just don’t think that would be a very wise decision for a man like Wonderfuck to make.” Almos
t as though she’s giving me a warning.

  “You know everything about me.”

  “I know enough.” She takes a drink and eyes me over the rim of her glass. “I know about your sister the judge, and your mother and her challenges, and I know about Lily.”

  My chest tightens. This is much different than Tara knowing about me. This feels treacherous, maybe even deceitful.

  “And I also know about poor dear Susie.”

  There is no kindness in Cheryl’s eyes when she says Susie’s name. “That wasn’t your fault, Jake. Believe me, I know. When I found out that you’d been investigated for a potential homicide by the police? For the love of God, that the man I was fucking was possibly involved in a woman’s death? My people investigated the hell out of that one.” Cheryl twists her enormous diamond on her ring finger. “You couldn’t save her. No one could’ve.”

  I stand. I can’t sit. My brows pull tight and I scowl at the woman I thought I knew. “You’ve been lying to me.”

  “That’s rich, darlin’.” She smiles and actually laughs. “Because you’ve been lying to everyone you know, including yourself.”

  Jackpot.

  Well, maybe not one person.

  One person who has both Jake and Wonderfuck all figured out.

  “You’re right.” I turn away from Cheryl and walk toward the foyer. “I have been lying to myself.”

  “Darlin’”—Cheryl calls after me as my hand reaches for the front door—“you’re making a big mistake. Your sister’s a criminal court judge, and as much as this is a ‘vocation’ for you and not a job, if this gets out? What you’ve been doing all these years? I don’t know how she’ll ever live it down. And an investigative journalist? Jake, I truly thought you were smarter than that.”

  I press my lips together. Every word she says makes sense. I’ve got too many loose ends. She stands and walks to me.

  “Stay here. With me. Let me make you hard again.” She reaches out. Her hand strokes the fabric over my cock.

  And I know. I know that Wonderfuck is dead. Not just for Cheryl or any of the other hundreds of women I’ve pleasured. I know that Wonderfuck is dead for me.

  “I can’t,” I say and walk out the door.

  Chapter 34

  I text. I call. She doesn’t respond. And why would she? After weeks of silence, and me leaving her crying on a couch, why would Tara answer me? She’d be a fucking idiot to respond, to take me back, to let me love her. But dammit, I’m going to do everything in my power to prove to her that she has no choice, that I’m the man for her, that I can love her in the way she deserves to be loved.

  That Tara is meant to be mine.

  I pull into the circle drive in front of my building and jump from my car. Who the fuck cares? Let them tow it. I need Tara and I need her now. A lightning bolt of need shoots through my brain. I must find Tara now. I was a fucking fool, but I’m a fool no more. I rush through the lobby. Inside the elevator, I circle the space like a jungle cat caught in a cage.

  I’m down the hall and pounding on her door.

  “Tara! Tara, let me in. I have to talk to you, Tara!”

  I stop. I listen. Shit. Silence on the other side of her door. She’s not here. I rub my hand through my hair and pull my real phone from my pocket. I dial her number again. There’s no ringing on the other side of the door. Nothing. There’s also no answer. My call goes to voicemail, and I leave what is my ninth message in less than an hour.

  * * *

  “Where is Tara?”

  “I tried to tell you, Mr. Reynolds, she’s still living here, but she’s not here right now.”

  I sigh and press my lips together. “Dell, it’s important I find her. Do you know where she is?”

  He shakes his head, but slides his eyes toward the office. “Mr. Reynolds,” he lowers his voice, “you know that because of privacy issues, even if I did know where she was, I couldn’t tell you.”

  “I do,” I say. “I do know that.” I lean over his desk and glance toward the office. Obviously someone else must be sitting there, for Dell to be so worried about telling me. “But I also know this is very very urgent and I need to know where Tara is.”

  Dell licks his lips.

  “Okay, let’s do it like this,” I whisper. “Do you know where she is?”

  Dell nods his head.

  “Is she coming back, soon?”

  Dell shakes his head.

  “Is she at her parents’? In Malibu?” Dell raises both brows. “That’s as close as an answer as I’m going to get?”

  Dell nods.

  I smile, thank him, and jet out the door.

  * * *

  Traffic is never slower in Los Angeles than when you’re in a hurry, and I’m in a hurry. I take the 10, race through the backstreets in Santa Monica to avoid a fender-bender on south PCH, and then hop back onto the PCH to get to Malibu. By the time I arrive at the guard gate, it’s late. Lucky for me, the same guard from two weeks ago is on duty. I manage to talk my way into the Colony even though I’m not on the list.

  I pull onto the drive. Tara’s car is parked beside a convertible Audi. Who the hell is here this late at night? Didn’t Douchenugget drive an Audi?

  My heart drops to my toes. I climb from my car. Fuck, please don’t let her have gone back to Sir Douche-A-Lot. What if they’re planning their wedding—part two? He’s begged for her forgiveness and gotten it? I left her brokenhearted. Maybe he seemed like a real catch after me.

  Fuck.

  I don’t care. I knock on the door. I wait. I knock again. This time more insistent.

  “Tara! Tara, open the door!”

  Finally I hear footsteps. The door swings open, and the man standing in front of me isn’t who I expected.

  “May I help you?” His hair is steel grey. His eyebrows pull tight together over the bridge of his nose. He wears a robe and looks as though he’s been asleep for a while.

  “I . . . I’m Jake and I’m looking for Tara.”

  He squints at me as though trying to process my words.

  “Who is it, dear?” A woman calls from deeper in the house.

  “Someone for Tara.” He turns back to me. “Have you tried calling her?” he asks me, with a look on his face that says I might be slow and unable to process how civilized people attempt to find one another.

  “She didn’t answer and I need to speak to her.”

  “Well, she’s not here.”

  I turn toward the driveway. “But her car—”

  “She left it. She’s been staying with a—” He stops speaking and eyes me again. “Who did you say you were?”

  “Jake . . . we’re . . . we’re friends.”

  “Hmm. Right. Friends. Well, she’s not here. I’ll tell her you came by. Have a nice evening.” He starts to shut the door.

  I reach out and slam my hand to the flat surface to stop the door from closing. “But I need to see her now.”

  “Young man, I suggest you remove your hand.” His tone is clipped and he puffs up. “Or I’m calling the police.”

  “I need to find her.”

  “She has her phone, and I’m quite sure she’ll get in touch when she’s ready to be found.”

  I drop my hand to my side. After a final stern look, he shuts the door. I stand in front of a closed door after meeting the person I suspect is Tara’s dad.

  I’ve made a great first impression, I’m sure.

  * * *

  My best option to find Tara is to wait. Unlike her bed, mine doesn’t shake when she goes in and out of her condo. I lean against her front door—that way I can’t miss her when she comes home. It doesn’t matter if I’m awake or asleep, because I’ll hear her, and she’ll see me. The invincible Wonderfuck, decimated by love, has turned into a stalker huddling at her front door.

  I have no shame. I’ve left messages. I’ve driven to Malibu. I even attempted to bribe Dell when I returned to the building, but he didn’t have any information worth buying. I settle onto the carpet in
the hallway between our two homes, and I’m prepared to wait here for as long as it takes, prepared to wait until Tara comes home. Prepared to wait for her for the rest of my days.

  “Jake?”

  My eyes flutter open. A pain shoots through my neck as I lift my head. Something wet and warm slurps at my face.

  Wagging tail.

  Smelly breath.

  Tiny whines.

  I smile. “Jango.” I’ve never been so happy to have a girl with bad breath licking my face before now. Her tail wags. I pet her and look upward over her head to the woman standing behind the dog.

  She doesn’t look nearly as enthusiastic to see me.

  “What are you doing sleeping against my front door?”

  I’m sure I look like shit. What time is it, anyway? I got here after midnight. Tara looks fresh and showered and has on clean clothes.

  “I . . . I needed to see you.” I jump to my feet. I do my best not to seem too needy or pathetic, but I’ve just spent hours sleeping in front of Tara’s door, so I don’t have firm grasp on appearing strong and detached.

  “Excuse me.” She comes toward the door with her key. I back away and stand beside her.

  “Tara, please, come on, I need to talk to you. I have to talk to you.”

  Jango jumps up and plants her paws on my thighs. “See, even Jango knows how important this is.”

  She doesn’t crack, doesn’t waver. But she leaves the front door open when she turns and goes into her condo, which leads me to believe that I’m allowed to follow. I stop short in the living room because it’s full of boxes in different stages of being packed.

  “You’re really moving.”

  “Yep. I really am.” She unsnaps Jango’s leash and lays it on the table. “Now what do you need?”

  She’s all ice princess on the exterior, but she still cares for me. I see it in her eyes. I don’t deserve her feelings, but they’re still there. I just have to convince her that it’s okay to feel for me. That I won’t disappoint her, that I won’t let her down, that I finally know what I need in my life, and what I need is her.