by Nikki Wild
A deep moan escaped from my lips, the pain fading away completely until I was writhing in the purest pleasure, my body pressed up against the window as he pounded into my ass. Savage, raw, delicious passion ripped through me, turning every nerve in my body into a symphony of bliss that took over my entire soul, until I was coming again, my body seizing up around him as he continued to fuck into me. He swelled bigger and hotter inside of me, his cock throbbing as he exploded, his hot seed spilling out, burning me with his sweet release.
He fell against my back, panting, his cock sliding out of me, leaving me yearning for more. I moaned, turning my face back to his.
“That was incredible,” I said, my eyes wide with wonder.
“Better than the view?” he asked, a sly smile on his face. I pulled my skirt down and turned around as he pushed his cock back into his pants and zipped them up.
“Much better than the view,” I whispered, a sense of something I couldn’t quite name rushing over me.
Was it love? It felt like love. It felt like I’d never felt before. My heart was full and all I wanted to do was fall into his arms. I’d never done that before and I’d certainly never expected that to happen in a place like this, let alone with a man like him.
Suddenly, I felt so vulnerable. I wanted him to hold me. I wanted him to kiss me gently and tell me everything really did make sense, even if it didn’t seem that way.
But he didn’t. He turned away, taking in the view, as if he hadn’t just plunged himself into my most sacred place.
“Let’s go,” he said, walking away from me, his gait a little unsteady. Silently, I followed him, studying his back for some sign of emotion.
Nothing.
We got back in the elevator and he didn’t touch me the entire ride back down. When we got back in the limo, he sat opposite me, reaching for more champagne.
I sighed, shifting gingerly. Between the bruises and welts still on my skin and the pounding he had just given my ass, I was pretty proud of the fact that I wasn’t crying out from all the pain. Now that he wasn’t inside of me, the pleasure had faded and the wincing and stinging was back in full force.
“How well do you know Zoe?” I asked, my words seeming to come from out of nowhere. I certainly hadn’t planned on letting them escape my stupid brain, but they fell out like a bunch of oranges from a shopping bag.
“Zoe?” he asked, confusion filling his eyes.
“Yes,” I asked, staring over at him. He squinted a second, then cocked his head.
“Why do you ask?”
“She seems to know a lot about you,” I remarked.
“She does?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said. “Did she tell you I met her in the bathroom? That wasn’t the first time, either. I saw her the first time at that steak house we went to.”
“She didn’t tell me any of that,” he shook his head. “What did she say to you? She can be a bit of a bitch sometimes.”
“She said you would eat me alive,” I said, raising my chin.
His laughter echoed through the limo and he slapped his knee.
“She told you that, did she?” he said, gasping for air.
“I’m glad you think that’s funny,” I said.
“Don’t you?”
“No, not particularly,” I said.
“Surely, you aren’t jealous of Zoe Rothchild, are you?” he said.
“What place do I have to be jealous of anyone?” I said, spitting out the words. Anger began welling up in side of me. Maybe it was because I was feeling so lost, so vulnerable. Maybe I just needed answers. Maybe none of this was for me and I didn’t have the skills to handle it.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“Never mind,” I shook my head, looking away from him. I didn’t want any part of his piercing gaze. I didn’t want him to look right through me anymore. I didn’t want him to see my confusion, my uncertainty, my self-doubt. I hated being vulnerable.
I wanted him to see a sophisticated woman, like Zoe, when he looked at me. So far, I was pretty sure that wasn’t happening.
“Chloe,” he said. “Look at me.”
“Forget I said anything,” I replied, refusing to look his way. The limo pulled up in front of my apartment building and I took a deep breath. Putting my hand on the door handle, I turned back to look at him finally.
He looked confused and lost and buzzed.
“Chloe, what’s going on?” he asked.
“I can’t do this,” I said.
“Do what, darling?”
I shook my head, his beautiful dark eyes staring back at me, and I knew this moment would probably haunt me forever.
“This, Bear, I can’t do this. All of it.”
“Is it the job? Chloe, we can find something else for you to do, if you want.”
“It’s the job, yes. But it’s more than that. I can’t do this right now. I don’t even know what I’m doing!”
“Chloe, calm down. Everything is going to be fine.”
“No, it isn’t!” I cried. “I don’t even know who you are, Bear. One minute, you’re gentle and loving and the next minute you’re acting like I’m some whore you picked up in Times Square!”
“They don’t have whores in Times Square anymore,” he said, smiling.
I crossed my arms and looked away, shaking my head.
“Chloe, come on—,” he began, reaching for me.
I put out a hand and shook my head.
“No, Bear,” I said.
I got out of the car and stood on the sidewalk, staring down at him in the limo. I shook my head, my heart in my throat.
“I’m sorry, Bear,” I said, my voice quivering with emotion.
“Chloe, let’s talk about this.”
“Peaches.”
“What!” he yelled. “Chloe! Come on!”
I shook my head and walked away, tears spilling down my face.
Chapter 27
I sat on my terrace the next morning, a hot cup of coffee in my hands, as I listened to the sounds of the city below. Horns blowing, people yelling, car tires skidding and garbage trucks clanking, the song of the city echoing down the street and up into the air.
It was barely six a.m. and all this was going on below already.
I’d woken before dawn after crying myself to sleep, my dreams haunted by Bear’s face.
Now, in the light of day, the world seemed a little clearer. Now that I was alone and had some space and time to think, my decision seemed obvious.
Coming here to New York had been a whirlwind of unexpected adventures. I was beyond grateful for the opportunity to experience every minute.
But everything about New York was harsh and extreme. From the weather to the people, to the pace, to the expectations that had been put on me. I was a lily-white, thin-skinned, lightweight of a human. I’m sensitive. My heart is huge and open and raw.
How was I supposed to survive these conditions with this kind of disposition?
It’s not that I’m not strong.
I am really fucking strong. But this just isn’t me.
I’m strong, but I’m soft, too.
New York City is as hard as a diamond, with not a soft space to land in sight. I just couldn’t understand it. I couldn’t wrap myself around it. And I needed that in a home. I needed a place, a person, a home that I could melt into.
I’d thought maybe I’d found that in Bear. But he was just too much of everything—he was just like the city that had raised him. A big giant ball of tension and drama and intrigue and shock that never let up. I never had time to catch my breath around him. It had become almost impossible to relax.
And, now, more than ever, I wanted to relax. I wanted familiarity. I wanted friends and dive bars and rain.
More than anything, I wanted things to be clear.
Bear clouded my mind beyond belief.
I couldn’t have both. It was time to be honest with myself.
I finished my coffee and went into the bedroom
, pulling my suitcase out of the closet. I packed slowly, my hands running over all the beautiful clothes he’d bought me as I put them away. When I was done, I walked into the spare bedroom that Bear had turned into my studio.
I’d not used it once the whole time.
I’d hardly been home at all, actually.
I trailed my hand over the brand new sewing machine, smiling wistfully at it.
“We could have had a lot of fun together,” I said, feeling a twinge of guilt that I’d never even turned it on. Bear was a good man. He was special and thoughtful and generous.
But he was so much more, more than I could handle. He may have seen something in me, but whatever it was, it wasn’t ready for the intensity that he brought to the table.
I turned off the light and closed the door, walking back to my bedroom to grab my phone. Sitting down, I pulled up the travel app and booked the next flight to Portland.
Chapter 28
“Mom,” I said into her voicemail, “I can’t make lunch today. Don’t be mad, but I’m going back to Portland. My flight leaves in two hours. I’ll call you when I arrive. I’m sorry, I tried, but New York just isn’t for me.”
I hung up, so happy she hadn’t actually answered the phone. I didn’t want to argue with her and I certainly didn’t want to explain everything to her. There weren’t enough lies that I could come up with right now to make anything I said sound normal.
I’m leaving because your billionaire boss made me his sex slave and took my ass virginity at the top of the Empire State Building and I don’t know how to emotionally process all of this shit?
Yeah, it didn’t sound like something one should say to a parent, did it?
I grabbed my bag, my stack of library books and left the keys and Bear’s credit card on the kitchen counter. My stomach dropped as I closed the door for the last time. I made my way down to the security desk and asked the security guy if he would please return the books for me. I was so thankful he agreed, because the thought of trying to figure out how to get back to the library on my own was not a pleasant one.
I walked outside to hail a cab and ran right into Max.
“Ready to go meet Ms. Matilda for lunch, ma’am?” he asked.
“Oh, Max! I forgot to tell you, I’m so sorry. I won’t need you today. I’m not going to lunch with my Mom after all. In fact, I won’t need you at all anymore. But thank you, you’ve been so helpful and kind.”
“Won’t need me at all? Why not, ma’am?,” he asked.
“I’m going back to Portland.”
“Oh?” he asked. “Mr. Dalton didn’t mention it to me.”
“He doesn’t really know yet,” I said. “I just decided this morning.”
He looked at me, squinting his eyes curiously.
“Oh, I see,” he nodded.
“Thank you, again, Max. I’ll just hail a taxi to the airport.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. Please let me take you.”
“That’s okay,” I refused.
“No, I insist. Mr. Dalton would be so upset if I let you go in a taxi.”
I sighed, looking into his kind eyes.
“Okay, then,” I relented, “thank you, Max.”
“It is absolutely my pleasure!” he said, opening the door. He took my bag and put it in the trunk and slid behind the wheel. The glass was already down and I was grateful for it. I didn’t want to be alone right now.
The car pulled away from the curb and Max looked at me in the mirror.
“What is Portland like?” he asked.
“Portland? You’ve never been?” I asked, thinking about it. “It’s—well, it’s kind of dreary, actually. It rains about nine months out of the year.”
“That sounds awful,” he said.
“I guess so. You get used to it.”
“When I first moved to New York,” he said, “I hated it. I couldn’t believe people lived in such a crowded place. I was particularly offended by the rats. They seemed so big and they were everywhere.”
“That’s how I felt the first time I visited,” I agreed.
“But you know what?” he asked. “Now, I don’t even notice them. I’m just like everyone else, just going about my business and ignoring them. I used to shudder in disgust every time I saw one. It’s amazing what you can get used to in time.”
I nodded, thinking about what he was saying. He was right. I’d gotten used to quite a lot in my life. I’d gotten used to not having a father. I’d gotten used to my absentee mother. I’d gotten used to the rain and dreary skies.
“I suppose one could get used to almost anything,” I said.
“It’s true,” Max nodded.
We were silent for a few minutes, before he spoke up again.
“Mr. Dalton will not be happy you are leaving,” he said.
“You don’t think so?” I asked. “I guess he’ll get used to that, too, won’t he?”
“Maybe,” he replied, “but maybe not.”
“I think he’ll be okay,” I said.
“He’s a strong man, sure,” he said, thoughtfully, “but still, there’s something different about him when he’s with you. He lights up in a way I’ve never seen. Like something in him comes alive that he usually keeps hidden away in the dark.”
I nodded, speechless, my eyes stinging with tears.
We didn’t talk the rest of the way. I had no idea how to respond anyway and I was thankful he didn’t press the issue. There was something very special about Max and I realized I was going to miss him.
He pulled up to the drop off point at the airport and came around to open the door.
I stood on the sidewalk with my bags and put my hand out to shake his. He looked at my outstretched hand and smiled, before pulling me in for a hug and kissing my cheek.
“In Somalia, that is how we say goodbye to our friends.”
I smiled up at him.
“Thank you again, Max,” I said. “Take care of yourself.”
“I hope to see you again very soon, ma’am,” he said.
I nodded, a huge empty pit growing in the bottom of my stomach as I walked away and into the airport, leaving New York City and everything and everyone in it, far, far behind.
Chapter 29
I sat at the gate, mindlessly scrolling through Facebook on my phone. My plane was half an hour late and we hadn’t even boarded yet. It had taken forever to get through security and they’d looked through my entire bag, pulling out all the fancy lingerie I’d bought and pouring it out on the floor.
I was so embarrassed and I’d wished I’d left it all behind.
It’s not like I was ever going to wear it again. My heart was already hurting just thinking about it. I was giving up everything. I was blowing the biggest opportunity I’d ever been given. And I was probably going to end up throwing away the most expensive lingerie I’d ever buy in my life after only wearing it once.
Was I an idiot?
Was I making a huge mistake letting fear and confusion send me fleeing to safety?
Sure, of course I was.
But that was the decision I’d made and I was determined to go through with it. I’d look really stupid if I turned back now. I had to make a decision and stick to it and this was the only one I was brave enough to make.
I stopped scrolling when I saw a status update from Harlan.
In usual Facebook style, it was something that he’d posted two days ago and just now popped up in my feed.
She can block me but she can’t hide. Nobody runs from me. I’m coming, Chloe.
I shuddered as I read through the comments. Thankfully, it was a group of our mutual friends calling him out on being incredibly creepy and stalker-ish. I could only hope one of them had gotten through to him. I’d barely given him a second thought since I’d blocked his number on my phone. I hadn’t thought to block him on Facebook. I’d been so preoccupied with Bear that Harlan was the last person on my mind.
An overhead voice announced my plane was boarding and I sighed wi
th relief. Sitting at the airport waiting felt like being in limbo. It was torturous and took all my strength not to just give in and run back to Bear’s arms. Because the truth was, I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t know if this was the right thing to do or if leaving was something I would regret for the rest of my life.
All I knew for certain was that Bear Dalton shook me to my very core and I had no idea how to handle that.
It was simple, actually.
I stood up and got in line, thankful that I was finally going to be out of here in a few minutes. I looked out the window at the huge jet that would carry me back home and had a flash of memory of my flight here.
I smiled when I remembered the note Bear had sent me telling me take off my panties. It had all seemed like such innocent fun and games back then. I had no idea what was in store for me back then. My heart soared as I thought about how it had all felt. I’d been so nervous and yet so excited, like a little kid going to Disneyland.
The unknown had excited me. The thought of getting to know Bear had excited me.
His brazenness had excited me.
And now, here I was—afraid of it. Filled with fear because I didn’t know how far he could go, how far I could go — how far I wanted it to go.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen, I thought.
I thought about that girl back then and I admired her courage. She seemed fearless to me. Where had that girl gone? What happened to saying yes?
Had she really been so frightened that she’d lost her backbone completely?
I waited in line, a sense of shame washing over me.
I should have been stronger, I thought. I should have given it more time. I should have bucked up and believed in myself.
Instead, I was here in this line, one slow-as-molasses step closer to failure as the line moved forward. I fought back the tears as disappointment filled my heart.
