by Ana Fawkes
“You think that would feel good?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“You want good? You want…”
Jonathan pulled me down. My sex was close to dripping as the tip of him touched me. He opened me and penetrated me with a sexual force I couldn’t imagine ever feeling. My legs were as wide as I wanted them to be so the penetration felt amazingly tight.
Jonathan didn’t care, his hands forcing me down… down… down…
He was fully inside me as one hand let go of my backside. It was on the back of my neck, forcing my head to look down at him.
“You feel that?” he asked.
Of course I felt it. I didn’t need to respond so I just sighed and bit my lip.
“That’s all you’ll ever need. Ever.”
He started to pump me, keeping him deep inside me, working with a speed that brought on what felt like an instant orgasm. I had been building an orgasm from the second I was able to touch the knot on his tie. My insides felt like they were exploding and the pressure only became more intense when Jonathan put his hand back to my ass and started to lift and lower me. He used his strength and my body to his advantage. I was hopeless and helpless as I started to bounce on him. I tried to gain my footing a couple times but couldn’t.
All the power I had just two minutes ago was all gone.
And that was fine with me.
He thrust as he forced me down, not wasting an inch of my body. I throbbed against him and I could feel the definition of his erection as it pulled and pushed and pulled and pushed. I placed my arms on his shoulders, my head down, and I just tried to keep my breath. I was worn out again, already.
“Yes,” I managed to whisper once.
Jonathan Black moved his hands. One went to my lower back and the other to my neck again. He sped up to a pace that left me in awe. I could feel my body and mind somehow connecting in a sexual moment that would forever be burned into my memory.
“Isabella Grace,” he said, thrusting me, “nothing will ever harm you…”
He pulled down with his hand on my lower back and he squeezed me, forcing me to stop. He climaxed a split second later, filling me with his passion and leaving me feeling of moaning or crying. I couldn’t control my emotions – hell, I couldn’t even identify my emotions.
His body pumped, his muscles flexed, everything worked to keep offering his sex to my body.
After he finished, he turned and then was on top of me. He stayed inside me and he just stared into my eyes.
I wanted something romantic to come from his mouth. Something that would shake me. Something that would change my life.
“It’s time to call Oliver Rush,” Jonathan said. “We can’t let this day waste. We’re all ready.”
I closed my eyes.
Jonathan moved down to my ear.
He offered me one more thing.
A reminder.
“I’m going to kill Oliver Rush.”
-8-
There were two phones on the nightstand. One small and black, one large and black. The small one was mine to use to call Oliver Rush. I had been staring at it for five minutes, trying to cope with my position in this situation. I was going to set up a murder. Accomplice to a murder. My mind filled with thoughts and images and I almost reached my breaking point when the screen on Jonathan’s phone lit up. It vibrated a second later and then his hand grabbed the phone before I could read the screen.
He looked at the phone and shook his head.
It was the tenth time that morning his phone rang. I figured it was just business as usual. After all, he wouldn’t announce to the global corporate world that he was in travel with a woman, planning on murdering a man who stole billions from him.
Jonathan ignored the phone call and placed the phone in his pocket. Not even enough time went by for him to say something to me and the phone rang again. He acted as if it didn’t bother him, pointing to the cell phone the nightstand.
“Now,” he said. “Now.”
I nodded and reached for the phone.
“I’ll honor your privacy for the call, but I’ll be standing at the door.”
He left and I pressed a button on the phone. As Jonathan had told me, there was only one contact in the phone. I touched Oliver Rush’s name and the phone began to dial.
I wanted to know why Jonathan thought Oliver would answer but the thought never had the chance to flourish in my mind.
Oliver picked up before the second ring.
“Who is this?”
“Oliver… Oliver Rush?”
“Who is this?”
“It’s… Isabella Grace.”
Silence.
“Are you safe?”
“I don’t know,” I replied. My shaky voice wasn’t great acting, I was scared out of my mind. Of course, what I was actually scared of and what Oliver thought I was scared of were two different things.
“Is he with you?”
“Not right now.” It wasn’t a lie.
“I knew you’d call me. I’m… sorry…”
“No, don’t. Not now. Can you help me?”
Another pause came.
It occurred to me that Jonathan could be wrong. Oliver Rush could say no, could hang up, could already be making arrangements to leave the area.
“Of course I’ll help you,” he said to me.
I closed my eyes, inching closer to the reality of what would come.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I’ll always help you. You’re too beautiful to be like this. Your name has been ringing in my mind over and over… Isabella Grace…”
“He’s on his phone, on the other side of the house. I know where the keys are, to the car.”
“He left a car there?” Oliver Rush asked.
“The driver got sick,” I quickly covered, “so he sent the man away. The man was visibly ill and Jonathan just told him to leave.”
“Sounds about right. Sick bastard.”
“There’s a hotel nearby…”
“I know what one,” Oliver Rush said. “Hurry there. I keep a room, just in case. 419. I’ll make sure there’s an extra card for you, okay? We can meet there, but only for a few minutes.”
“A few minutes?” I asked. “Then what?”
“Then we flee. We get on a private plane and we go wherever you want to go. Anywhere in the world, beautiful Isabella Grace. I’ll shower you with money, gifts, my heart, and a passion you’ve never seen before. There’s emotions beyond lust.”
I nodded, knowing Oliver Rush couldn’t see me. I liked the way he spoke. I liked the words. My heart started to speed up hearing him speak. I looked over my shoulder and saw the door open enough to show Jonathan Black’s face and body as he stood there. He looked at me and I looked away, not wanting to give away my sensitive position.
“I’ll meet you soon,” I said.
“I’ll think of you, Isabella Grace. And please, just leave. Don’t worry about anything, just leave. I’ll buy whatever you leave behind.”
I took the phone from my ear and ended the call.
I turned and swallowed hard, my body feeling weak.
Had I just setup a murder?
Before I could speak, Jonathan’s phone started to ring again. He hurried and put it to his chest to muffle the sound.
“Is that important?” I asked.
“Not as important as this moment,” Jonathan replied. “You. Me. What’s happening.”
He pushed the door open all the way now and stepped back into the room. He walked up to me and touched my face. His hands were everywhere on me acting as though we’d never see each other again. His thumbs caressed my cheeks but he spoke no words of romance and his eyes looked sexy but distant. When he slipped his fingers into my hair, he let out a sigh of relief. His other hand moved down to my shoulder and then down my arm to my hand and fingers. As he interlocked our fingers together, I felt the crash of emotions inside me and I gasped for air. If I hadn’t, I would’ve cried.
Jonathan Black pulled me, our bodies together.
We stood in silence for what felt like hours and I wished it to be days, maybe even years.
He stepped back from me and looked down to our hands together.
“You leave,” he said. “Oliver Rush will be waiting.”
“And you?”
His eyes met mine. “I’ll be there. Neither of you will know when, but trust me, I will be there.”
Then Jonathan Black placed his lips to mine offering me the gentlest yet hottest kiss I’d ever had.
-9-
My nerves, again, worked to my advantage. I thought about what I should have looked like, being a woman running away from powerful billionaire Jonathan Black, and I fit that description perfect. When I got to the hotel, I parked as far away from the entrance as I could. I hurried along the building to the front and rushed to the front desk, constantly looking over my shoulder.
When I gave the room number, a young woman smiled and found the card for me.
I looked over my shoulder again, expecting to see either Oliver Rush or Jonathan Black. Or maybe both. Maybe Jonathan would do something really crazy and make an example out of Oliver Rush in front of everyone in the lobby of the hotel. I still wasn’t sure what the man was capable of, and dammit, it really turned me on.
“Are you okay?” the front desk woman asked me.
“Is anybody okay?” I replied as I took the card from her.
I was off again, this time choosing to skip the elevators and going for the steps. It was only four sets of steps and I figured this way if anyone was on the elevators waiting for me, I’d surprise them.
My mind reminded me of Jonathan Black’s strength, and anger.
My mind reminded me of how aggressive Oliver Rush had been. Trying to touch me. Calling me a whore. The attempt to pull a gun on me.
By the time I reached the door to Room 419, I was angry. I was not in the mood to play any games and lure Oliver Rush in.
But I had to.
It was Jonathan Black’s command.
I slid the card into the door and then turned the handle. When the door opened, I found Oliver Rush sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning forward with his hands at his face.
“Oliver?” I whispered as I stepped inside the room.
He jumped up, almost launching himself at me.
“Isabella Grace, you’re really here…”
I nodded.
I couldn’t stop shaking, fighting my body’s urge to attack Oliver Rush. I also had to fight my eyes as I kept looking around room, waiting for Jonathan to show up.
Oliver kept coming at me and when he just a few feet away, I stopped walking towards him and started taking steps back.
I was able to study his features and I was able to see why he was the kind of man who would steal billions from Jonathan Black. His face was round and looked haggard. He looked like a man who spent more time drinking and plotting than actually working. I could picture him and Jonathan next to each other, Jonathan taller and wider, the alpha of the two. Oliver Rush looked like the one who would ride the coattails of anything Jonathan did. The major difference though was that while these pairings would have a sexy brawny man and a brainy man, Jonathan Black was both. He had looks and brains. Oliver Rush… he was just there. A weasel. His eyes full of lies.
“Don’t walk away,” he said to me. “No, no. Have I scared you?”
I tried to snap back, realizing I could still mess this entire thing up. But when Oliver Rush reached for me, I whimpered. I wanted no other man to touch me. If it wasn’t Jonathan Black, it was nobody important.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” Oliver Rush said. “I was just trying to send a message to Jonathan. I didn’t realize who you were, what you were. Your beauty… oh, Isabella Grace…”
His hand touched my cheek. I shivered. His fingers moved to my hair. I shuddered. He stepped towards me, inches separating our bodies from touching.
“I need you,” he whispered. “I can give you the life you dream of.”
I nodded.
“I can,” he said. “You’re with him because of the power, the money, the success. That’s me too, Isabella Grace. I’m just as powerful, just as rich, just as successful. Except I have a heart. I haven’t sold my heart for a dime, like Jonathan Black has.”
“He said you stole from him,” I whispered. “The meeting yesterday…”
“I took what was mine,” Oliver Rush said. “I took what I earned, what I made. He abandoned the company after losing our biggest deal. He couldn’t handle being second best to someone, so he chose to walk away. I had to move on too… it’s just business. But you, Isabella Grace, you’re life. You’re love. You’re everything.”
Oliver Rush began to breathe heavy and his head turned just enough to tell me he was going to kiss me. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t have actual contact with him. I would either scream, cry, or kill him myself. The man didn’t speak a word of truth and as he got closer to me, I could see it in his eyes. He was a feeble attempt at a bully. He’d take me and he’d use me. He’d use me to attack Jonathan Black again and again.
His lips were a second away from me and I needed to get out of this.
“Take me,” I whispered.
Oliver Rush paused.
“Take me,” I repeated. “To the bed. Just take me…”
“Of course,” he said.
His hands touched my hips and I wanted to squirm away but I didn’t. I walked with him. He walked backwards and I walked forward. We walked to the bed and I thought he was going to pull me onto him. That would have been bad. At the last possible second, Oliver Rush turned and sat me down on the bed. He stood before me and began to play with my hair.
I took heavy breaths trying to keep my emotions in check.
“Look at you,” he said, “look what Jonathan Black has done to you. He’s lied to you. He’s sucked you in. He’s hurt you.”
I opened my mouth but there was nothing left to say.
“I would never hurt you,” Oliver Rush said. He half smiled and his eyes blinked. It was a pure lie. “I’ll care for you until the moment my life is taken away…”
“Yes,” I said.
“And don’t you worry about Jonathan Black either. He’ll be taken care of. Perhaps a little accident is in order. Then he can rot in a grave where he belongs. He can feel what it’s like to be chewed to pieces and be blood sucked. He could feel what it’s like to tear life…”
Oliver Rush’s mouth fell open. His eyes rolled in their sockets once, twice, then he looked at me. His lips started to come together like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find words. We both looked down at the same time and that’s when I saw the small patch of blood on his white shirt. He touched his stomach, his fingers sliding into the wet mess of crimson spreading on his shirt.
I gasped for air and watched as Oliver Rush started to turn. Jonathan Black stood behind him, wearing a pair of black leather gloves, holding the end of a knife. He’d lined it up perfectly behind Oliver Rush and I could only imagine the damage the stab wound had done. Jonathan Black walked Oliver Rush away from the bed, towards the wall. He smashed him against it and Oliver Rush let out a small grunt, a dying grunt. Jonathan turned the knife, over and over, until Oliver Rush finally lost his balance and started to fall. That’s when Jonathan took the knife from Oliver’s body and let him fall. He then rolled Oliver to his back and using both hands, he drove the knife into Oliver’s chest, right through the heart.
Dead.
“Dead,” Jonathan Black said.
Dead.
Oliver Rush was dead.
Murdered.
By Jonathan Black.
Murdered.
With my help.
Jonathan turned towards me and came to my aid. He wasn’t able to touch me but just having him a foot away actually comforted me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “I… don’t know.”
; “You’ll be fine,” Jonathan said. “We need to get out of here. I’ll hold you, Isabella Grace, until your fear is gone. He can’t hurt anyone now. Nobody will ever hurt you.” Jonathan lifted his hands and opened them. Even though the gloves were black I could see the wetness on them, Oliver Rush’s blood. “Do you still have that phone I gave you?”
I nodded.
“Give it to me. Then take my cell phone and hold it while I make a call.”
I didn’t want to know what the call was about but I assumed it had to be to clean up the mess that was Oliver Rush’s fresh corpse.
I dropped the cell phone into Jonathan Black’s hand and then reached into his jacket to retrieve his phone.
“I’m going to make this call in the bathroom to make sure everything is in silence,” he said.
I nodded as my hand shook holding his cell phone.
“You’re beautiful, Isabella Grace. We’ve done right in a world of wrong.”
Jonathan Black turned and slowly walked to the bathroom. He still looked damn sexy but I couldn’t help but wish I was back on his private jet, waking to find myself handcuffed. It seemed so much easier yesterday.
Yesterday, it was sex.
Today, it was murder.
What did that mean for tomorrow?
I heard Jonathan’s voice start to speak when his phone in my hand began to vibrate and then chime.
Silence.
Jonathan said he needed silence to make his phone call.
Shit.
I hurried and pressed to accept the phone call. I would pay for this, but I would take a little sexual punishment over being caught for murder.
“Hello?”
“Jonathan? Is that you?” a voice yelled.
I stopped talking.
“Hello?” the voice said. “Hello? Is that you? Jonathan… answer me… I need to talk to you… please, Jonathan, don’t do anything…”
“This isn’t Jonathan,” I said. “It’s his…”
“It doesn’t matter,” the voice said. “Where is Jonathan? I need to speak to him.”
