by Soraya Naomi
This is gutting me, so I seriously contemplate returning to the club to accept the distraction offered by another woman.
CHAPTER 38
Mary
On my first night out after a terrible week, I get the feeling that I’m being watched as Rosalia and I say our goodbyes in the parking lot of the Italian restaurant where we had dinner. Not willing to take any unnecessary chances, I immediately take a cab to the Astoria and step inside my state-of-the-art apartment that doesn’t feel like home.
Even though Rosalia and the waiter, whose advances I had to fence off, did entertain me, now I’m down in the dumps again. The waiter was cute, but he isn’t Henry.
Time apart has merely strengthened my longing for Henry, and although I had hoped for out of sight, out of mind, I’ve found that the phrase is a blatant falsehood. Sometimes you meet someone who’ll have a hold on your heart and will never let go, and the second they cross your path, an irresistible bond is forged. And from the moment I saw Henry seven months ago, there was such a reaction, a yearning in the pit of my stomach. It was something electrifying and life changing. Some may call it luck and others may call it fate, but I say that destiny has imprinted Henry on my heart in such a way that my head can’t repress or forget, which only makes me miserably sad. So sad that as I plop down on my couch and the silence of this vast living room deepens my loneliness, I can’t help but wonder if I made a huge mistake, especially since I miss him immensely. This distance has proven that even when you don’t love all the things someone does, you can still love that person for who they are.
Unfortunately, while I’m drowning in my sorrow, I don’t see Henry at Sunday brunch the next day, and another dismal week passes at an excruciatingly slow pace. I’m not in the mood to attend classes, and I come to the realization that I don’t enjoy the art history program at all anymore, so I drop out after researching an entirely different major: Veterinary Clinical Medicine. Only, if I do get in, I’ll have to move to Champaign County, which is three hours away from the Loop.
But planning a new future far away from Henry doesn’t stop me from wanting to know how he’s doing. So for the first time in two weeks, I groom myself, blow-dry my curls, and dress in black stockings – otherwise the November coldness will bite into my skin – beneath a tight maroon dress. Then I resolutely take a cab to Club 7.
***
The club is jam-packed on this Saturday night, and I immediately make my way upstairs to the carpeted VIP area, feeling deflated when I discover that Henry isn’t playing poker. Shifting to the railing of the balconied second floor, I scrutinize the people below on the black and white tiled dance floor as the bass pumps in my ears.
Maybe Henry’s avoiding the club? While wondering if I should just call him, I stroll to the small bar set up on this floor and wave over the bartender, who smiles widely when he recognizes me. This guy is a cute Italian and he flirted with me before I met Henry, but after that, I forgot about him.
“Hey, Mary. Long time no see. What can I get you?”
“A coke, please,” I order.
And he chatters while pouring me one. “I wanted to ask you last time you were here to come on cocktail night. We have one tomorrow.”
“I’ll see if I have time,” I reply absentmindedly, taking my drink and glancing to the end of the VIP hall, where a couple is seated and being very frisky.
A stone sets in my stomach as I grip my glass in bitterness. Henry, the king seated on his throne, has Jordana in his lap, astride him, whispering into his ear while he lazes back cheekily. Without thinking, I charge toward them with my glass in hand, setting it on the table they’re sitting at as both of their heads whip to me and Jordana sneers.
But Henry’s expression of utter boredom cuts through my heart. He has his glasses on and is in his black tie attire, yet his hair is tousled from Jordana running her fingers through it, which makes me swim in possessiveness. Something I have no right to feel, yet it takes control of my entire being.
“Can we help you?” Jordana snidely inquires.
I point my finger at her, snarling, “Don’t talk to me. Get off him.”
She lifts a brow and turns her head, ignoring me, so I snatch her wrist and drag her backward as she stumbles off Henry’s lap, raising her hand to slap me when I release her harshly.
Henry jumps up, catches her arm, and pivots her around. “Don’t fucking touch Mary!” Then he jerks his head, ordering her to leave, and when she stomps off, I proceed to spew my rage.
“Well, it only took two weeks for you to find a new fuck buddy.”
Henry edges forward slowly. “You don’t want me, so you don’t get to have an opinion about it.”
In this second, I lose it because the pure jealousy of witnessing another woman dry-humping him is too much. With a sob, I slam a fist against his chest. “Did it have to be her?! The one skank who told me you would do this to me! I didn’t want to see you practically fuck another woman—”
He grips my fist in his large hand, tugging me close so we’re face-to-face as he dips his head. “I’d rather fuck you.”
“I don’t want Jordana’s sloppy seconds,” I throw back, causing him to flinch.
The smell of alcohol on his breath has me frowning at him, and when I meet his silver-grey eyes, I notice the dark circles under them and how unfocused his gaze is.
“Are you drunk?”
“Yes.”
Sadness brands my soul.
“Don’t you fucking dare pity me,” he warns, letting me go.
“But I do,” I reply, and he hisses in anger. “I pity how you go from woman to woman.”
“Stop making all your damn assumptions. I didn’t touch her. She was touching me. And I need to drink to drown you from my goddamn thoughts,” he defends.
“But you let her touch you. How would you feel if you saw me with another man?” I tell him, disliking his cocky, drunken attitude.
“I’d fucking murder him!” Henry’s lips thin into a hard line before he advances on me, but I swivel around, escaping his grasp before I break down in front of him – I refuse to give him that satisfaction.
I’m not sure how, but I make it outside before my tears spill over, and I hail the first cab I see to take me home, feeling more devastated than ever. Furiously swiping the moisture away, I decide to apply at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, in desperate need of a change of scenery.
Though, when I finally decide I’m done, destiny interferes, and instead of getting better, things become so much worse than I could’ve ever imagined.
CHAPTER 39
Henry
Anger can give you great power as a Syndicate man, but it can also destroy you when it comes to matters of the heart. Especially the kind of uncontrolled anger missing Mary evokes while her words of yesterday keep resonating in my brain: I didn’t want to see you practically fuck another woman.
The problem lies in the fact that she’s so upset with me, she can’t even see through my façade anymore. Jordana might’ve been in my lap, but I wasn’t enticed in the least and couldn’t get Mary out of my head. And when I finally saw her, I only experienced more regret and pain. Now that I’ve lost her, I realize she was a burst of freshness in my jaded world.
However, karma is a motherfucking bitch when I’m nursing a whiskey on Sunday evening at the bar on Club 7’s first floor, and up on the second floor, I catch a familiar petite silhouette with curves I’ve dreamed about every damn night. Mary’s in a body-hugging cream dress that stops mid-thigh, black stockings with black boots, and a dozen thin gold bracelets embellish her wrist, as usual. Much to my chagrin, she’s chatting up an Italian bartender who’s ogling her.
How long has she been here? I’ve been here for over half an hour, getting shit-faced, and evidently being less observant. But I’m not going to fucking run after her.
No. I’m not.
So what do I do?
Of course, I go after her.
Incensed, I march up
the stairs but am stopped by Logan at the top as he places his hand on my chest, warning me, “Don’t do it, man. Let her go.”
I glance at Mary sitting at the bar to my left, and I snap, “I can’t. Get the fuck out of my way.”
Charging past him, I eat the distance to Mary, who’s perched on a bar stool with that guy next to her, looping his motherfucking arm over her shoulder. I grip his arm, shoving him off the stool as Mary swings around and jumps up in shock.
“I wouldn’t touch her if I were you,” I growl as he lies flat on his ass.
“Oh, my god, Henry!” Mary reprimands me before stooping low to assist him up.
My vision is doubling from all the alcohol I’ve ingested, yet I manage to seize her biceps and pull her against me, whispering to her, “I swear to god, touch him and I’ll beat him to a pulp right here.”
Before she can reply, I tug her with me to the other end of the hallway, to the office, passing Logan, who sends me a disgruntled look. “Henry—”
“Don’t! Is the office empty?” I bark.
“Yeah, Adriano’s gone,” he says, following us as I hurl Mary inside and shut the door behind me.
“What the hell was that?” She throws out her arm at the display that just occurred outside.
“That was because you drive me nuts! I’m done playing these games. Why the hell were you being so chummy with him? Because I was with Jordana last night?” I advance toward her as she moves back. “Nothing happened and I didn’t plan on anything happening. I just wanted to feel good again for one goddamn moment, but I didn’t kiss her or fuck her.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“Yes, you do, or else you would’ve left this office already. Do you want me to fuck her? Because I don’t. I want you. Because you haunt me during the day, and you haunt me at night.”
“I don’t haunt you. But you know what does? It’s your regret that haunts you. I loved you, and you played me by lying.” Dampness pools in her hazel eyes and being so close to her softens me slightly.
“I’m sorry, Mary.”
“It’s too late for your apologies.”
“It’s never too late. You made me want you! Why is it too late? Do you feel any better after these two weeks apart? I fucking don’t. I miss you, and I can’t stand seeing you with anyone else. I know you feel the same way. You still love me.”
She skews her lips in irritation and swipes a hand across her forehead. “But that’s not enough.”
“Why? Have you been with anyone else?” It’s difficult to concentrate when jealousy overrules my mind.
Mary jabs a finger into my chest. “You have no right to ask me that!”
I swat her finger away and disregard her forcefulness. “I know how you felt last night, but no woman has made me forget about you, Mary.” I clench my jaw. “Has another man made you forget about me?”
Mary calms little by little and studies me carefully. I’m sure my rampant emotions are visible because she confesses, “No one has made me forget you.”
Upon hearing that, I hunger to touch, lick, and fuck her. Quickly, I latch my arms around her waist, slamming her against the window with drawn, black floor-to-ceiling curtains.
“Henry. No,” she protests when I press my front to hers as her legs fall open in unspoken invitation, my cock hardening within seconds now that I have the woman I’ve coveted in my embrace.
“Yes.” I rest one hand on her throat, tilting her chin up as I dip my head.
Then I force her lips apart and sweep my tongue persuasively through her mouth, reclaiming what I’ve lost. It’s a kiss that trembles with unrequited desire, and after I trail my lips down her silky throat, I pull her dress up her thigh, urgently seeking to find bare skin.
“Jesus fuck,” I groan, all of my blood rushing south when I see the embroidered top of her sexy black stockings.
It’s all lust, animalistic, barbaric needs that possess me. I’m going to fuck her like I’ve fantasized about ever since she ended us.
“Henry, no!” She pushes against my chest, and I nip the beauty mark above her lip as her familiar sweet scent centers me. “I’ll scream.”
Hastily, I unbutton my pants and dare her, “So scream, but I fucking hope you won’t.” Nudging her panties aside, I smother her with a vigorous kiss as I thrust two fingers inside her, powering them into her.
I’ll be damned if she’s going to reject me.
CHAPTER 40
Mary
Usually, Henry’s height doesn’t bother me, but right now he looks menacing, so I hesitate until he plunges his fingers into me, and as the will to fight the bond between us deserts me, I welcome the burn he ignites. Frantically, I yank his dress shirt from his pants and dig my fingers inside his boxer briefs, taking his rock-hard erection in my hand. Henry rests his arm alongside my head against the window, stroking my curls from my face, and as he fingers me, I pump his cock and our eyes meet.
Leaning forward, I initiate our next feverish kiss. Henry bites my lower lip as he clasps one of my hands, raising my arm above my head while he gropes one breast and sucks the nipple of the other. Then he takes the base of his cock and rubs the head at my wet core, sliding in only an inch as he curls his arm under my thigh and lifts my leg before he drives inside. Only then, with me spread against the window, does he shove his cock into me to the hilt, and I gasp, clutching at his nape when he releases my hand above my head.
Henry skims his palms up my thighs, pulling my dress up higher and cupping my ass as I heft my other leg around his hip, securing my ankles behind him. I cling to him as his fingers dig into my ass while he hammers into me, making the window vibrate.
“I’ve missed you,” I murmur with a whimper.
“I miss you every fucking day.” He presses his lips to mine.
Agonizing weeks of regret are evident in the way our lips refuse to break apart. He rides me hard and rough, peppering kisses down my throat and sinking his teeth into my shoulder. Henry keeps up his grueling thrusts, banging me against the window, and lets out a low groan while our bodies melt together.
“You feel so damn good,” he mutters against my mouth, rolling his hips in a way he must know I love.
I speak his name in a breathless whisper and almost come, but Henry has other plans. Without pulling out, he moves to the desk. Smoothly. Swiftly. Then he slides out of me before he lets my feet drop to the floor and spins me around, pushing me facedown onto the polished black glass surface. He kneels while bunching up my dress, tracing the top of my stockings with his tongue, and tugs my panties down and over my ankles.
“Spread your legs, baby,” he orders in a low tone.
When I comply, he buries his face in my center from behind, molding my ass cheeks with his large hands and spanking me once. I grind against his mouth, spreading my arms wide to grip the edges of the desk, as Henry licks every inch of my folds, even up to my ass.
“Henry...” I pant when he drives his thumb inside me and circles my clit fiercely, all the while still licking me.
“Come in my mouth, baby. Let me taste all of you.” Henry removes his fingers and spears his tongue into my core.
Carnal pleasure overrides me. My orgasm pulses into a magnificent explosion, and I buck against his mouth as primitive satisfaction fills me until I go slack.
He roams his hands over the globes of my behind as he stands up, and without preamble, he thrusts his cock inside me. Pistoning into me, Henry snakes his arm around my waist to guide me up with my back against his chest. He positions one of my knees on the desk so that I’m wide open for his assault, one hand cupping me between my legs and the other gripping my side. Then he passionately plunges in and our skin slaps together as my arm comes back around his neck and he nips from the base of my throat up to my jawline.
“Mary...fuck,” he groans against the shell of my ear and pushes in so deep it hurts pleasurably as he reaches his peak with a low growl, tipping over the edge before slowing his movement, whispering, “What the
hell have you done to me...”
We flop forward on the desk, Henry on top of my back. All of our clothes on and him still inside me, our breathing cuts through the silence.
After moments of quiet where I swim in my thoughts, he pushes off me, and I miss his warmth. Kneeling down, Henry drags my panties up my legs and arranges my dress down over my hips as I face him, at a loss for words. Only with Henry does that happen. He fastens his pants and combs his hands through his tousled hair a couple of times before we stare at each other for what seems like an eternity.
I’m not sure how to proceed since I let him seduce me without putting up much of a fight, and instead of being happy, I’m unsure how I feel. He’s drunk and I’m confused.
A knock on the door has Henry striding to it as Logan inches it open, announcing, “Adriano’s just entered the club.” Walking inside, he points at me. “Go.”
Henry takes my hand, leading the way to the other side of the spacious office and pressing the elevator button. It opens instantly, so I hurry inside.
“Wait for me downstairs at the back entrance,” he says in a gentle tone.
“Okay,” I promise right before the door closes.
On the first floor, I get out of the elevator, and since I’m still hot from our encounter, I step outside the back entrance for a moment. Lifting my face to the cold air, I’m standing at the curb when I hear a creak behind me. But before I can turn around, someone smothers my mouth, and as I look down, I see a white cloth, my eyelids drooping until I lose consciousness.
CHAPTER 41
Henry
Logan shakes his head at me while I tuck my rumpled white dress shirt into my slacks. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say a word.” He smirks as I go into the security room and claim the seat behind Keano’s computer, the one I still need to check to ensure we didn’t overlook anything in Keano’s plan. Something I should’ve done two weeks ago, except I’ve been unable to concentrate without Mary.
