by Pamela Ann
CHASING
Imperfection
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without a written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.
Copyright © 2012 by Pamela Ann
TABLE OF CONTENTS:
Title Page
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
Note to Readers Page
Acknowledgments Page
For those who struggled with love,
Lost with love
And succeeded with love.
1
Blake
One month and two weeks later…...
“Do you want any more cognac?” the dark-eyed Spanish beauty asked. Do I want any more cognac? No. I’m already trashed as it is, but my mind keeps running away with thoughts of the woman who stole my heart, my soul.
“Sure,” I murmured.
Her cat-like smile was plastered on her sensual face while she poured. I took a mouthful and loved the smooth burn of the expensive liquor. Her hand caressed the exposed spot on my chest where my shirt was unbuttoned. She’s obviously trying to get my attention, but I chose to ignore her. She took my indifference as a green light and started to hastily undo my shirt.
Hell, this woman was adamant.
She started to kiss my neck, chest and stomach. Her tongue lingered around the edge of my trousers. I just stared at her. Waiting to see how far she’d go to please me. Women were always this easy—they never say no—always willing to spread their legs wide open anytime, anyplace.
Well, with the exception of one.
The one I wanted more than anything.
The one I fell in love with but who walked away from me.
Fuck the blasted karma. My head’s been bombarded with thoughts of her—thoughts of her with that insipid man that she’s with. My heart squeezed as I tasted acid in my mouth. The hell with it!—if she doesn’t want me then there are tons of women who are more than willing to accommodate me….like this harlot trying to appease me and my moodiness, my thoughts queried sourly.
I groaned as she undid my pants, slightly lifted my hips so she could easily pull them down. She stroked my semi-hard cock as she sought my lips.
“No. There will be no kissing. I’ve emphasized that fact enough. If you’re not happy with it—you know where the door is.” I hissed at her. Her dark eyes widened from shock but fully recovered from it after a few seconds.
I don’t give a fuck if she stays or not.
“Whatever you want mi amor,” purring as she lowered her head to capture the head of my shaft. I released a sigh and leaned back on the couch as she started to stroke it with her tongue.
Damn, why did I expect it to be like hers? Not only did she steal my heart, but she stole a bloody part of my sex life.
FUCK! Bloody Fuck!
How will I ever be satisfied with any other woman if she was the best I’ve ever had? She gave a mean head…and when she takes you—she gave it her all—and there was nowhere to go but to get sucked into that soul-gripping abyss.
This woman before me—fucking mediocre—most of them are when it gets down to dirty business.
Most women aren’t gifted, only some are. And let me tell you—there aren’t many of them out there. Some can be okay, some good, some great, but only a few will seriously blow your bloody fucking mind. Sienna was the bloody fucking package. And I loathed her even more as the day goes by.
Finally, the woman managed to get my dick up.
I pulled out my wallet and handed Maria Reyes a foil condom packet.
Leaning back again on the couch, I closed my eyes and thought of Sienna. I heard her tear the foil packet; she gently rolled it on my cock. I met her two days ago at a friend’s party and she latched on like the leech that she is—but I don’t mind that, not at all—at least she was honest with what she’s after.
She positioned herself and straddled me and gently pressed her wet, greedy pussy on my cock.
A soft moan escaped my lips.
I imagined it’s Sienna on me. I imagined the night I woke up from her fucking me or that night during Chad’s show in the office. Hell, fucking her in the office was blatantly hot. She became even more frenzied when I held her neck while I fucked her some more. She didn’t mind the choking—she just took it all. We wanted each other—in any imaginable way we could get it.
I gripped Maria’s hips harder—feeling the intensity of my climax building and brewing inside. I pictured making love to her—her gasping face as I fill her—her screaming my name—her face as she orgasms. “Fuck Sienna!” screaming her name as I came.
“Bastardo!” Maria screeched as she climbed off me. Not the first time this happened. It happened the night I met her and every single time we fucked—which was a lot in the last two days.
I shrugged when I heard the front door slam with a little quake.
Not my bloody fault if she kept coming back. I didn’t mean it, not really. It just happens. My mind constantly revolves around Sienna. The only time I get a hiatus is at work, but somehow she even manages to penetrate my workaholic mentality at the oddest times. Like I would be spacing out during a meeting because I’ve been thinking about her smile or how she teases me. Anything and everything—always about her—and I’m bloody going mindlessly crazy with this.
When will the miserable longing stop? I hate feeling this way. I got up and took care of cleaning myself. I’m sure Maria left already—but not for long.
Strolling to the kitchen, I found Toby sitting with his laptop on the black granite breakfast countertop. “Maria?” he inquired without looking up.
“Yup,” I said shrugging. “I know I’m paying you tons to do an excellent job—but it’s almost midnight—you need to stop and do that in the office.”
“Yeah, well I needed to straighten out a lot of the budget. This is such a bloody mess,” Toby mumbled and took a long sip of his beer.
“Well who would’ve thought the old arse was embezzling money. If he wasn’t grandfather’s good friend, I would’ve gladly punished him—but hey granddad pretty much said to let it go.”
He smirked. “Sure…five million pounds is easy to let go for you folks.”
I opened the fridge to get bottled water—drank some and turned around to face him. I grew up with Toby. We went to the same boarding school and university. We grew up privileged, but his father’s gambling took a toll on the Watson’s bank balance and it’s been dwindling ever since. His parents have been pressuring him to help out his younger brother, Liam, through high school and he’s been lending them a hand. He was making a decent amount in his other job in the finance department at one of the leading hedge fund companies in Europe.
But when I found out what old McKenzie was doing—I threw him out and hired Toby. I’m paying him double to ease some of the pressure. He’s worth it, not only am I lending him a hand—he also happens to be a genius when it comes to money. Toby’s the closest thing I have for a brother and it pains me to see him stressed out about his father’s failings.
Toby cleared his throat and looked me in the eye. “Mate—for years I haven’t said a word about all your follies—but what in God’s name are you doing? I see you’re hurting—but you won’t talk about it. You’re drunk most nights and frolicking with different women. What the hell happened with Sienna? Lucy and Chad are clueless too—no one is talking and we’re all wholly baffled.”
Fuck, I knew this was going to come.
When Toby moved in a few days after Sienna left, he never said a word about it. He simply dodged the whole subject, but I knew he was giving me time to come to terms with my problem—my pride—but now time’s up.
Never once had I retained any reservations when it came to talking to Toby—this bit with Sienna—where do I even begin? It was a bloody calamitous disaster. Now my best friend is staring me down, waiting.
Blimey, this is bloody difficult…just start with a cleaner version, less hassle…less questions.
“She found out about Camilla. I promised I would take care of it and I did. She obviously was gutted about it—I understood that—but I couldn’t lose her—so I proposed—she turned me down and went to LA with that cretin named Kyle. End of story.”
“Wait—you proposed? Like marriage?” His face was disbelieving.
“Yes! Exactly that! End of discussion.” I roared at my friend’s face which he unfortunately didn’t notice.
How the heck does he know how this feels like? He’s so smitten with Lucy.
“Mate—I knew you were/are still enamored with her—but you proposed marriage…you’re that in love with her? Wow, I get it now—all these clamoring different women….” He trailed off shaking his head, “—but mate—you can’t fuck your way out of this one.”
“We’ll see about that,” barely hearing my own murmur because I simply doubted it myself. I have a slim chance in hell getting over that woman who unequivocally bewitched me. But I have to try at least and try I will.
I can’t keep living like this—like my insides—like my soul is being sucked out of me—it’s frightening. Surely there are tons of broken people who move on quite easily, why couldn’t I be one of those people? I’ll be damned if I wouldn’t at least try—even if my method is “fucking my way out of it.”
“She’s back you know. Why don’t you go see her?” Toby eyed me with those knowledgeable blue eyes.
“Fuck no! I’m not going to crawl back and beg again. Once was humiliating enough. I’m sure Matthews got her now.” The thought of her being with Matthews is killing me. She needs to get out of my head and make camp somewhere else. It’s like having insanity running havoc in your head.
“Yeah ’cause her being with Matthews is what you really want,” he finished his beer and slammed it down on the counter.
“Listen—she didn’t want me. There’s no why or how—she just doesn’t. Do you not think I berate myself enough for not telling her about Camilla? I do—but my apologies were shrugged off and dismissed without consideration. If she doesn’t want to be with me—then what is the point with begging again for her to come back? I’m convinced that I was just a little jaunt to get over her hurt from the cheating wanker.”
“You both did start dating quite quickly after Kyle. You probably have a point—Luce did mention you were the second man she dated after him. And I suppose you two being close friends helped your cause. So, if that theory is true…being used as a rebound by Sienna shouldn’t be so bad, I take it? It is Sienna we’re talking about…I know a few mates who are captivated by her but I doubt they can hold against Kyle or you. Don’t say I didn’t warn you about her and Kyle, mate. She used to talk about being married to him before you even came in the picture.”
“You did—and I didn’t pay heed. I couldn’t—I wanted her.”
“There were times I saw her look at you in a certain way—like conflicted somehow—but the way her eyes looked—I thought she was in love.”
“She doesn’t… she never did.” Painful but it’s the truth. Idiot me thinking I’ve found the one.
“What happened with the Clayworths then?”
“They were understanding and said they wanted me to be happy. Camilla was shattered of course. She already had her dress drawn out and ideas where the wedding was to be held. I like Camilla, she and I are compatible—and she loves me. But I fell in love with Sienna. I wanted it to be like the usual blasé I went for—but she was different—she rocked my world and left me in shambles.”
“Anyone with eyes can see how Camilla is so smitten with you, mate. You always treated her differently than your usual conquests. You took her on holidays and such—then again you needed that to get to know your wife-to-be. I think Camilla is a great woman—but I’m biased because I love Sienna and you’re my friend—so I want you two to be together. But since you’ve categorized that subject as rubbish and you’re done fighting for Sienna and handing her over to Kyle —why don’t you want to date Camilla? You do like her and you two seem quite compatible actually. All these different women Blake—surely it’s taxing? Think about it.”
“I’m really starting to hate Sienna. My whole life is out of order.”
“Doubt that but sure, whatever you say. I’m off to bed. See you in the morning.” He took his laptop with him and left the kitchen.
Damn him. He knew how much I hated Kyle Matthews and he kept rubbing it in. Every night I’ve been tortured with thoughts of them together. It’s no wonder I drank myself to sleep most nights.
I left the kitchen towards the stairs and headed to my room. I needed to shower and clean myself of any traces of Maria on my body.
Can I really consider dating Camilla? I have to be sure because Camilla’s an excellent woman and I don’t want to hurt her, again.
Turning the dials on my steam shower, I dwelled on my thoughts. Sienna, you really crippled me. I thought abhorrently.
I have to rein my feelings before this whole disaster affects my work. I can’t let down grandfather. This company is my legacy. My children will inherit this someday and their children’s children. Hell, the thought of kids turns my stomach into acid. A little girl that looked like Sienna floated around my head.
God, how I want that woman—it’s maddening. Maybe if I could taste her one more time—get her out of my system—it would help. She did believe in closure, didn’t she? She went to see Kyle for “closure” and moved on from me. I suppose I could test that theory.
Fuck! Fuck! I’m getting hard thinking about her body. I’ve had sex three times today, but put Sienna in my thoughts and I instantly get a hard-on.
I’ll figure something out. I always do.
I want to possess her—for the last time.
Then I can move on and not look back.
2
Sienna
It’s been a month and three weeks since I’ve been back in London. The trip to LA was worth it. Although, my teachers were accommodating, I still had homework to catch up on. I stayed with Kyle and his parents during the whole two week visit. Marie was overjoyed and wouldn’t stop implying that someday I would eventually go back to her son. I hid most of the time in the guestroom and tried to forget about everything—which was simply impossible to do.
My memory always flashed back to that single moment when he proposed and I declined—his expression then—his beautiful face contorted with hurt and rejection—made me feel like a double cold-hearted bitch. He proposed and I never saw it coming. Not only was I reeling from the revelation of his impending engagement, I was gob-smacked by the proposal. As much as I loved him, I am not ready to be married. I’m not even twenty—marriage is out of the question. I felt bombarded with all sorts of emotions at tha
t very moment—but it doesn’t take away the fact that the bottom line was/is, that I’m still in love with Blake Knightly. If he told me about the whole thing before I found out from that wretched woman, I would’ve forgiven him. But it was all a joke wasn’t it? I felt betrayed and most of all the butt of all jokes. Who else knew and never once warned me about it?
Everything’s been on auto-pilot. I’ve trained myself to smile and be cheerful around people even though it’s killing me inside. I’m a living empty shell—but the beat goes on right? And so I shall.
After the first week in LA shutout to the world in Kyle’s guestroom, he wouldn’t let me have the same courtesy come the second week. I was grateful for his persistent nature. He took me to Disneyland and Universal Studios, twice for both. I had a blast—who wouldn’t? I felt like a kid again. Kyle knew me inside out and I’m thankful he’s helping me through this rut of post-breakup madness.
Oh, the irony. When Kyle broke my heart, Blake was there for me. And now the situation’s reversed. The cycle of life can be so tedious and complicated.
Kyle on the other hand—took a different turn. A hot sexy turn, I might add. He cut his surfer hair and had a buzz like cut, got a large intricate tribal tattoo on his back that wrapped around his shoulder and arm. The trip back home gave him a nice tan. He’s been dropping hints about us again. How long can I evade the subject? This is major emotional overload.
I’m on my way to catch up with Chad and Lucy in a pub outside Lucy’s school. I’ve explained the situation to them—only the highlights. I don’t think I can voice much without breaking down into hysterics. It’s best to keep it that way. I have a façade to put on.
I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure those two didn’t buy the crap I fed them, but hey I had to keep trying. It’s easier to be in denial with my feelings to others when I simply couldn’t deal with it either. I’d rather dwell on it alone without anyone seeing me. I was functioning and that I believed was a great head start.
Upon entering the pub, I saw Luce and Chad tucked in a booth on my far left and made my way to them. Their faces lit up upon seeing me.
