by Stella Gray
“Yup. It was the best night of my high school life. Before that, I was the biggest nerd of the freshman class. But he treated me like I was the coolest girl in the room, and after that, so did everybody else.”
“That’s a great story,” I said, my heart swelling. “I can’t believe he did that.”
“Yeah, that was him. And then right before he went to college…something changed.”
“What happened?” I asked, taking another sip of my mojito.
“I don’t know. He got cold. Maybe he was just preparing himself for the real world.”
Emzee’s words trailed off as she looked out the window. I imagined she was thinking of the way Stefan used to be. Missing that younger, happier version of her brother.
As we hugged goodbye outside the restaurant, I wondered about Stefan’s secrets, wondered what kind of trauma or tragedy might have changed him into the man he was today.
Wondered if there was such a thing as a miracle that could change him back.
Tori
Chapter 15
When the valet pulled up with Emzee’s cute black convertible, she turned to me.
“You want a ride back over to campus?” she asked.
She was struggling to keep her hat on her head as a gust of wind came up, her arms loaded down with bags, so I took her purse and the leftovers so she could duck into the car.
“Actually,” I said, passing the bags back through the window, “I still have some time before my ASL class. I think I’ll get Stefan something to eat and bring it over to him.”
“Brilliant!” Emzee squealed. “Their food is so good, isn’t it? He’ll love that. My brother the workaholic, always laboring right through his lunch hour. Maybe I’ll see you at the office?”
“Sure. Either way, let’s hang out again soon,” I said.
“Love it.” With an air kiss, she rolled up the window and sped off.
But the excitement I felt at surprising my husband was quickly dampened when I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to go to the office without an explicit invitation. The last time I tried to bring Stefan lunch unannounced, it hadn’t gone well.
Then again, my husband’s rules about not showing up at KZM had probably been due to their behind-the-scenes activities—not whether I was allowed to visit. There was no way I’d get in trouble now that I knew the full scope of what was really going on at the agency.
Still, I was nervous regardless as I sat in the back of an Uber on my way over. What if he didn’t want me at the office for other reasons? Maybe he was having an affair at work, or he engaged in “private interviews” with the models. I clutched the bag of take-out food, anxious.
“Thank you so much,” I told the driver, sliding out of the car in front of the building.
I looked up at the huge skyscraper of glass and brick, taking a deep breath. The last time I’d been here, I had gotten turned around and accidentally overheard Konstantin Zoric yelling at Luka. The owner of KZM had admonished his youngest son for basically screwing “the help.” That was when I’d first realized that the agency’s talent were working as more than just models. It had shattered my entire world.
But Stefan was still Konstantin’s favorite. If my husband was really the perfect son he was supposed to be, he’d know his father’s rules. There was no way he’d be messing around with other women at work, in full view of everyone. Nothing went on at KZM that Konstantin didn’t know about. I clung to that thought despite having no proof that it was valid. I had to believe that Stefan wasn’t cheating.
The security guard at the front desk recognized me, and he waved me over to the bank of elevators without even making me sign in. When I got up to the 29th floor, the receptionist was equally warm.
“Mrs. Zoric,” she said. “So good to see you again. He’s in his office. Go right ahead.”
It was almost too easy. My pulse was kicking as I tiptoed down the hall, turned the corner, and made my way to Stefan’s office door.
To my relief, he swung open the door at my first knock and greeted me with a smirk.
“You know you’re not supposed to be here, kitty cat.” His voice was stern, but not angry.
“I know, but…” I held up the bag and smiled. “I thought you might be hungry.”
“You are a goddess,” he said, taking the bag gratefully and pulling me in for a slow, deep kiss. It took my breath away.
As he settled back into his desk chair, I closed the door behind me and made my way toward him. “I figured it was okay to come since Emzee invited me.”
The last time I’d visited the agency’s offices had also been on Emzee’s invitation—but Stefan was well aware of what had changed recently regarding my knowledge about KZM, and neither of us said anything to acknowledge it.
“I’ll let it slip this time,” he said with a wink, letting his eyes travel the length of my body. “Especially considering you look good enough to eat, yourself.”
As usual, I felt myself blushing under his lustful gaze. I liked his playful mood. After my long talk with Emzee at the restaurant, I also couldn’t help wondering whether I actually did wield any sort of power over this man. He always seemed so self-assured, so completely in control. But I wanted him to let go of that. To lose himself, even if it was just for a short while.
Maybe I hadn’t been wrong about things changing between us. Maybe there was something I could do to change things even more. Looking at my husband in his well-cut suit, feeling the executive power radiating from him, my thoughts went to a very, very naughty place.
Unaware, he untied the bag and started setting the take-out boxes on his desk.
“You know…there are benefits to me being here,” I said. My voice was low and sultry. I barely recognized myself, but I loved it. I loved this risky, risqué side of me. The side that only Stefan seemed to bring out.
“Benefits?” he repeated, unfolding a napkin.
“Mm hmm,” I purred. “You just eat your lunch now. Deal?”
He looked up at me and cocked an eyebrow. He seemed wary, but he said, “Deal.”
With that, I let my coat and scarf slide to the floor and dropped to my knees.
Stefan had opened one of the boxes of sushi, but his chopsticks paused in mid-air as he watched me crawl toward him. His eyes were focused on me now, and the food wasn’t the only thing he was eyeing with appreciation. And hunger.
I watched him watching me, saw the heat burning in his green eyes. I knew my sweater dress was hugging every curve, that my lips looked full and wet with the gloss I’d applied on the way over. I would have been lying if I didn’t admit that part of me had been thinking of him when I got dressed this morning. That I had wanted him to see me looking like this.
“Don’t mind me,” I said, coming closer to him on my knees.
He ate a piece of sushi, his eyes never leaving mine, looking both interested in my movements and incredibly turned on. I liked the idea that I was keeping him on his toes. That I was the one in charge right now—that he didn’t know what was coming next.
But I could tell that he was ready to find out. One glance down at the bulge straining against his zipper indicated as much.
“Let me just help you with that,” I murmured, sliding my hand across his lap, teasing him with a few soft strokes through his expensive Italian slacks.
Stefan let out a harsh breath, and with a wicked smile on my lips, I knelt between his legs and moved my hands to his knees. I felt his thigh muscles clench under my palms as I slid them back up to where his cock was hard and throbbing, the thick outline of it growing even bigger.
“Mmm,” I moaned. I licked my lips and unbuttoned his pants, and then slowly, slowly dragged the zipper down. “I think I’m ready for dessert.”
“Fuck,” he said softly.
His cock—gloriously hard and thick—finally sprung free into my ready hand.
I squeezed gently and Stefan let out a groan, his own hand moving to the back of my head, his palm heavy there. I loved
it, loved that he couldn’t stop himself from reaching for me. His obvious excitement encouraged me to lean forward and lick a slow line from the base of his cock to the tip of its head, swirling my tongue around the swollen cap there.
I could tell by the way his fingers twisted in my hair—fisting so tightly that it bordered on pain—that he was very much enjoying having lunch delivered to his office today.
Although I hadn’t had as much experience at oral as I would have liked, I wanted nothing more than to please him. I opened my mouth wide and took him all the way to the back of my throat, giving a long, hard suck. God, he felt good in my mouth, with my lips stretched around his thickness. I was going to do everything I could to draw out more harsh groans from his lips. The sound made me feel powerful. Made me instantly hot and wet.
Lightly cupping his balls with one hand, I gripped him firmly in the other, letting his cock slide out between my lips. Then I dragged my tongue along the underside like it was a popsicle, just like he’d taught me in the back of a private car the first time I learned how to give a blowjob. His fingers dug into my scalp tighter, tighter, tighter, and I began to stroke my hand in concert with the motion of my mouth as I bobbed my head back and forth, sucking him softly.
He swore, harshly and colorfully, and I couldn’t help smiling as I increased the pressure of my lips and tongue, the speed of my movements. I sucked harder and faster, moaning a little as I fucked him with my mouth. I wanted to give him the same mindless pleasure he had given me against the wall, in our shower. I wanted to make him lose control.
My hand was wet as it slid in short, fast jerks over his velvety shaft, my tongue drawing patterns as I sucked him in and out of my mouth. I could tell he was close from the way he was panting, the way his dick was hard as a rock. All at once, both of his hands were in my hair and he was forcing my mouth down and up on his cock, thrusting roughly against my tongue, guiding me faster and faster into the rhythm he wanted.
“Take it,” he groaned, his cock thumping the back of my throat, his movements getting erratic and harsh. “Take all of it.” I took it, moaning around his length, loving that this was pleasure we were creating together, loving that he was taking control.
Suddenly he stiffened and suppressed a yell, and with that I felt him coming—that hot, thick liquid spilling into my open throat. I swallowed it all, enjoying every last drop, sucking him dry. When he was done, when his body fell limp and relaxed back into his chair, I licked my lips one last time and stood up, smiling down at him. He was spent, completely unable to say a word.
I’d never felt more powerful.
“Have a nice lunch,” I told him, before striding out of his office.
I’d bet anything he was grateful that I—or he, actually—had come.
Tori
Chapter 16
As the days passed, Stefan and I found ourselves in a new sort of routine. It was almost like the early days of our relationship, where we had seemed to reach a place of understanding—although this time, we’d come to terms with our undeniable physical attraction to each other. I still hated what Stefan did and what he was tied to with KZ Modeling, but if I forced myself not to think about it, my life at home was much easier to bear. And my relationship with Stefan reflected that. We seemed to reach a place of harmony.
There was so much we couldn’t speak about, so much we couldn’t say to each other, but I found that it didn’t matter for the time being. We found other things to talk about, other ways to communicate. The backdoor, shady dealings of KZM were still the elephant in the room, but we both became good at ignoring it.
It helped to remind myself that I would be getting a degree soon—a degree that would get me out of my dependence on anyone else. I was lucky to have schoolwork as a distraction, too, and I took comfort in knowing that with my education, I’d ultimately remove myself from the tangled web in which my father and the Zorics had entrapped me. I didn’t know where Stefan factored into that web; how much he himself had woven or if he, at times, felt just as trapped as I did. There were times, when he was kind and gentle, that I thought he must be feeling just as disgusted with the situation as I was. And even when he was cruel, or relished his control and power over me, I wondered if he was lashing out because he, too, was helpless to stop his father.
I didn’t know what to think and I didn’t know what to feel. Nothing was simple anymore. Maybe it never had been. But was it so bad to try and enjoy the presence of my husband while I could? Because I did. And it seemed like he was enjoying me, too.
When we were together, I tried to focus on the good that was between us. On the little moments of peace and calm. Moments that seemed to grow and expand every day. Our new normal was based less on mutual suspicion and instead on a foundation of time spent.
Meanwhile, with midterm exams over and a little less stress on my shoulders, I let myself ease up on the study dates with my school friends. Most days after I got out of class, I’d come home and settle into the big comfy chair in the living room for hours, making sure I kept up with my homework while also taking some time to explore a little extracurricular reading.
I also signed up for an optional extra credit assignment a few hours each week. It required me to communicate in sign language over video chat with Deaf elementary school students and their parents. It was difficult, and I knew I signed painfully slow at time, but overall it was incredibly rewarding. I felt a lot less isolated after completing one of my ASL sessions.
Stefan seemed to be spending more time at the condo too, often bringing his work home with him early in the evening and tapping away on his laptop at the dining room table while I studied. It became a routine of ours. I grew accustomed to seeing him sitting there, and having dinner with him most nights. Sometimes I’d bring him a drink or a small snack I’d prepared while I was trying to make myself useful by helping Gretna in the kitchen.
It was on one of these nights—when I’d been madly refreshing my sign-in page on the UChicago website in between chopping vegetables—that my midterm grades officially posted to my student dashboard.
“Oh my god,” I blurted, my voice shaking. “My test scores are in. I got straight As!”
I let out a little scream of victory, and before I knew what was happening, Stefan had run in and scooped me up in his arms, spinning me around in the middle of the kitchen as Gretna laughed gleefully and a stray tear rolled down my cheek.
“This calls for a celebration—Mr. Zoric, the good stuff,” she commanded, pointing to the pantry where the wine was kept.
“My wife deserves nothing less,” he agreed.
Dom Perignon, it turned out, was delicious. And here I had thought all champagne tasted exactly the same.
“I’m proud of you, kitty cat,” he’d whispered in my ear that night, letting me ride him as long as I wanted. I came twice in succession, so hard I had to grit my teeth against the force of my orgasms.
I found that I liked waking up next to him, and sleeping next to him, even on the nights when we didn’t have sex. There was something comforting about knowing he was there, that I could just reach my hand out and touch him if I wanted to.
Sometimes we talked about my program, though we both made sure to avoid mentioning Gavin. I honestly missed studying with him, our coffee breaks between classes, and his always-sunny mood, but I’d told him I was taking some time to myself and he’d been supportive.
Stefan brought up Emzee one night, saying her new boyfriend had stopped by the office that day. I was dying to know what he thought of the guy that Emzee was head over heels for.
“What’s he like?” I asked. “Emzee’s crazy about him. I’m excited to meet him, too.”
“I doubt you’ll get the chance,” he said. “They’ll probably be broken up before spring.”
“Really?” I was shocked. “Your sister made it sound like he was…pretty perfect.”
Stefan scoffed. “You don’t know photographers. Always flying all over the world, heads filling up with
new projects left and right. They’re flighty. You can’t trust them,” he said.
“You do know that your sister is a photographer, right?” I teased him.
“Exactly,” he responded. “And you just proved my point. In fact, she’ll probably get sick of him first. She changes boyfriends like she changes outfits. My little sister’s got game.”
We laughed together, and I felt the knot in my chest ease.
From the kitchen, Gretna sang out, “This dinner is about to change your life!”
My mouth watered. Whatever she’d been working on for the past few hours, it smelled amazing. The entire condo had slowly filled with the scent of rich tomato sauce made with fresh herbs, crushed garlic, a pastry baking in the oven, and a plethora of other delights.
“I don’t know what Gretna’s been up to in there,” Stefan said, “but I’m done waiting to find out. I’ll get the plates and utensils, you grab the wine and the glasses.”
I nodded and we split off to get the table set in record time. After we sat down—on the edge of our seats—Gretna carefully brought in the heavy platter. I couldn’t help but gasp.
“Is that a…” Stefan’s voice trailed off, his brow creasing.
At first, I didn’t know what I was looking at. I had expected one of her expertly homemade ravioli or gnocchi dishes. Instead, the thing she was carrying into the dining room looked more like a huge pot pie. It had a smooth, doom-shaped shell and was the size of a basketball. It smelled like a dream, but the visual gave no indication of what was inside.
“What is it?” I had to ask.
“It’s called a timpano,” she told me proudly, setting it in the center of the table.
“Timpano…that sounds so familiar…” I said.
“It’s an assembly of pasta with onions and cheeses and sausages and meatballs,” Gretna explained. “But it’s all baked in a shell of pasta. It’s everything good about Italian food.”
As Gretna said goodnight and headed out the door, leaving me and Stefan to our dinner, I was momentarily distracted by the sight of my husband shrugging out of his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves. I liked that I was one of the few people that saw him this way—tie loosened, top button undone, forearms exposed. Something about it was intimate, unguarded. I also couldn’t help relishing the fact that he looked very, very sexy when he took off his clothes.
