by Amy Brent
The truth was he abandoned me.
He abandoned all of us.
“Wanna tell me how you’ve been lately?” I asked.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Megan said, smirking.
“I know that look,” I said. “That’s your ‘I got laid’ look.”
“And it was mm-mm-good. Ready for the details?”
“Let me get a drink of this margarita and I’m all ears.”
Chapter 22
Christopher
My alarm clock went off before the sun started to rise, and I tossed it across the room. It shattered against the wall into tiny little pieces as I sat up lazily in bed. I’d always hated that thing. It was way too loud for any one person to handle first thing in the morning. It had been a gag gift from Justin that I’d taken with me when I left, but hearing it ring so early in the damn morning made me think of him.
And he was the last person I wanted on my fucking mind right now.
I had a long day ahead of me. There were potential client meetings all morning in my office and I needed to be prepared for anything. I was looking to expand my choreography business beyond individual dancers looking to audition and runway shows for stuck-up designers. I wanted to be taken seriously in the business. I wanted to choreograph for movies and stage productions and dance companies. I wanted to be hired for music videos and mingle with the world’s elite. I wanted to be the go-to man for anything relating to group dancing, no matter the venue that was hosting the event.
And today was the day I started that journey.
I dragged myself to the shower and turned on the hot water. I was ready for it to wash away the last of the bruising on my jaw and the aches from deep within my muscles. Justin had a harder hit than he let on, and it was taking a bit of time for my jaw to heal. I hadn’t heard from him since the fight and I didn’t give a shit about it. If he wanted to be some over-protective asshole over shit that happened years ago, that was his problem.
Not mine.
I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes as the hot water bathed my skin. I cracked my neck and stretched my limbs, bending over to touch my toes. This was my favorite part of the morning. Stretching and getting limber in the middle of a steamy shower. It helped to relieve my muscles from the tension I carried throughout the night. I struggled with vivid dreams. Nightmares that felt real every second and visions of dance routines that made my body feel rough even though I hadn’t moved a muscle.
But lately, my dreams had been about her.
Jessi and that fabulous body of hers.
I let the water pour over my shoulders as her lips came into view. I felt them against mine as her hands stroked my body, her fingertips rolling over the dips of my abs. I sighed as her body came into view. The swell of her tits and the swollen peaks of her nipples. My hands ran down the length of her torso and grabbed onto the excess of her ass.
Fuck, I loved her ass.
I felt my cock rising to the occasion as I backed into the shower wall. I wrapped my hand around my thickening girth as Jessi’s body draped over my bed. I saw myself pressing into her. I saw the coating of her arousal slicking my cock. The sex we’d been having lately was amazing. Despite our past, it kept getting better and better. Each orgasm was more blinding than the last and left me struggling to remember my own fucking name.
“Jessi. Fuck—those thighs.”
I thought about how she took control the other day. How she pressed me into the wall of her kitchen and took my cock between her lips. How her decadent pout had swollen and turned red. I had dripped down the back of her throat and watched her swallow like the sweet girl she was. I hadn’t been expecting that. When she called in tears that day, I hadn’t been expecting her to rip my pants down and devour my dick.
But she did, and I loved it.
I wanted her to do it again.
I saw her, naked and on her knees. I felt her hands pressed into my hips. I felt her hair against my hands as I bobbed her head up and down my cock. I squeezed my dick, envisioning her lips wrapped around it as my head pressed deep into the wall of the shower.
“Shit, Jessi. You feel so—good.”
Her tight pussy was all I could think about. How wet it always got for me and how it flowed with rivers of lust that poured onto my skin. I wondered if she got wet like that for anyone else. I wondered if any other man could make soak her panties with only one look.
I saw her in the shower with me, bent over and holding her ankles. I envisioned myself slipping my cock into her as I pounded her sweet little pussy. Her ass was jiggling and her tits were swaying. She was moaning my name and pressing her hands into the wall. I felt her slamming back into me as my cock grew in my hands. Swelled and pulsed as my balls filled with want.
“Fuck me, Jessi. Oh, my sweet girl. You’re so good for me. So good. So good. So—good!”
My toes curled into the bathroom floor as beads of sweat dripped down my face. Water ran down my torso, dropping down to the floor as my abs contracted. I fell into the wall as my cum shot from me, landing on the floor of the shower to circle the drain. Thread after thread leaked from me as Jessi’s smile came into view. Those pearly white teeth and those big doe eyes. Shining emeralds amongst a sea of plain brown eyes.
I slid down the wall and sat on the floor, trying to catch my breath as I muttered her name.
The only name I’d muttered for the past two years.
Opening my eyes, I found myself alone in the shower. I shouldn’t have struck me as odd, but it did. For a second there, I had convinced myself she was here. The image of her had been so vivid that I actually thought she was in the shower with me. Bucking against me, skin slapping skin, with her body drenched in water and her moans drenched in passion.
I reached up and switched the water to cold, trying to pull myself back to reality.
That was what Jessi did to me.
She pulled me into another dimension.
It took me time to gather myself, but I finally did. I dried myself off and got ready for my day, then headed to the office I was renting. One of my first clients wanted to meet with me about choreography for a new reality television dance competition, and I wanted to make sure I nailed it. I got to the office and pulled up some videos of things I had choreographed, then prepared myself for the meeting ahead.
“Mr. Miles?”
“Mrs. Cane, come on in.”
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic is rougher than usual today,” she said.
“I don’t mind at all. If you want to take a seat, we can get started. You’re here about a new dance show?”
“Yes. There are plenty of dance shows on television to catapult people into their careers as new dancers, but there aren’t any shows on television to cater to those who already have a career.”
“So this new television show would do that? Cater to people who already have careers?” I asked.
“It wouldn’t cater to them, but the guidelines wouldn’t shove them off to the side, either. It would take the basic format of every other reality television show. Auditions where judges rate them, pass them through and whittle them down. You wouldn’t come in until it was time for the audience to start calling in and voting.”
“Sounds pretty basic. I’ve got some clips up on my computer if you want to see a few of the things I’ve done,” I said.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I think you’ve misunderstood me. You already have the job if you want it.”
“I don’t follow,” I said.
“I’m familiar with your work, Mr. Miles. You choreographed a dance showcase about a year ago. In Seattle.”
“‘Take It To The Streets’?” I asked.
“That one, yes. I was impressed with what you were able to do. Is it true you choreographed all of those routines?”
“I did, yes. It was a volunteer position and no one else volunteered, so I took all the routines on.”
“They were outstanding. I was absolutely floored.”
“That’s very k
ind of you to say, Mrs. Cane.”
“I’ve already gotten the okay from the guys above me to provide a contract for you to look at,” she said. “I’m assuming you’d want to have your lawyer look it over.”
I didn’t have a lawyer, but she didn’t need to know that.
“Yes. That was the first thing I was going to ask you for,” I said, with a grin.
“I’ve got it right here,” she said, as she searched around in her bag. “Have your lawyer look it over, then give me a call. My number’s at the top here. It’s my personal number so—”
The smile on her face was flattering, but I had no intentions of doing anything but taking this job. She was pretty. Older, but pretty. However, I was already spoken for.
And I couldn’t wait to call her and tell her the news.
“Well, it was nice meeting with you, Mrs. Cane,” I said as I stood. “I’ll have my lawyer look this over and I’ll call you as soon as he gets back to me.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she said.
She held out her hand and I shook it before ushering her to the door. I waited until I heard her walk outside before I threw my fist in the air. Holy shit. I was going to be a choreographer for a new dance reality series.
I had to call Jessi and tell her the news.
Digging my phone out of my pocket, I immediately dialed her number. It rang and it rang, but eventually her voicemail picked up.
“Jessi. It’s me. You have to call me back once you get this. I just got awesome news. It’s Chris, by the way.”
Sitting down, I got to work, rolling through meetings like it was nothing. Some of the clients were interested in one-on-one work and others wanted help with audition pieces to get into college. One person in particular wanted help with a music video, so I took down their information and told them we’d be in touch.
But as the hours ticked by, I didn’t hear back from Jessi.
I called her again, but this time it didn’t ring. It simply went straight to voicemail. I hung up the phone and tried again, hoping maybe it was a connection issue.
But there was nothing.
Just right to voicemail.
“Hey, Jes. It’s Chris again. Look, I hope things are okay. I know we left things on a rough note, but I want to get together and talk. Some awesome things are happening and—well—I want to share them with you. Give me a call back soon, okay?”
I hung up the phone and sat down in my chair as I stared at the contract. I picked it up and started reading through it, getting lost in the legal mumbo jumbo. Shit. I really would need a lawyer in order to decipher what this damn thing said.
So I turned to my computer and started my search to try and get my mind off Jessi.
Why the hell wasn’t she returning my calls?
Chapter 23
Jessi
It had been a week since I’d talked to Christopher and I hoped it hurt. I hoped he was wallowing in his own self-pity somewhere wondering why the hell I wasn’t returning his calls. I hoped he was crying himself to sleep at night and wondering what he did wrong, and finally getting a small taste of what he put me through a year and a half ago.
But then again, I was getting it too.
Every time I saw a call come through from him, a part of me wanted to pick it up. A large part of me, in fact. And I wasn’t deleting his voice messages. Nope. Instead, I was replaying them over and over and putting myself through the same fucking torture I went through after he left. I laid in bed at night wondering how he was. The angry part of me hoped he was suffering while the soft part of me wondered if he was okay.
If he was okay.
Like I was the one doing something wrong.
This wasn’t at all how I’d seen this going down. I saw this being the pinnacle of my closure. The epitome of my revenge on him. Get him close like he did me then shove him away for the rest of my life. He’d get a taste of everything I had to wade through and then he could watch me rise to the top of the modeling industry. He could drool over me like all the other men did whenever I posted pictures on my social media accounts.
He was supposed to be another one of the masses.
He wasn’t supposed to be special.
But it was having the opposite effect on me. My heart hurt. I ached to return his calls and my vision got blurry whenever he left me another voice message. I found him in my dreams, holding me on the couch and looking down at Caleb and smiling. I could feel his hands between my legs whenever I masturbated to his memory. Every time I closed my eyes I could see him. Hear him. Feel him. Even smell him.
He had lingered in my apartment long after he was gone.
I wasn’t expecting to be so upset about this. I hadn’t prepared myself for how much this would hurt me again. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not this way, and not this time. He was the one that was supposed to be in pain. Not me. I’d experienced enough pain because of that asshole. I’d gone through enough because of my choice to let him in.
I was supposed to be the one to break his heart.
And yet, my heart felt like it was breaking, too.
It was impossible. I didn’t have a heart for him to break. To break someone’s heart, you had to love them. And I wasn’t in love with Chris. Right? Megan couldn’t possibly be right on this one. I couldn’t have feelings for the man. He had ripped my heart out and stomped on it. I was stronger than that. I was a symbol for all the women out there who’d had their hearts stomped on by men who didn’t deserve them. They looked up to me to show them they too could be a single, independent mother and never give another look to the man who broke their hearts.
What message would I be sending them if I inadvertently fell back in love with the asshole I was telling them to walk away from?
My phone rang again with another call from him and I ignored it. My hand was trembling and my heart was slamming against my chest, but I couldn’t cave now. I couldn’t pick up the phone. I had to stay strong. I had to do this for myself. That man had no idea what he put me through and I had to make sure he understood. If he understood the pain, then he wouldn’t do it to another woman. If he understood the agony I experienced when he left, then he’d second-guess himself before ever doing it to another woman again.
I was saving women around the world.
Right?
I looked down at my phone as it lit up with another voice message. My finger hovered over the call button, trembling as a tear stained my cheek. It shouldn’t hurt this bad. Something had faltered in my plan. He had done something, I was sure of it.
I needed to talk to him to figure out what it was.
“Jessi? Holy shit, finally. Where the hell have you been?”
“Busy,” I said. “Could we get together and talk?”
“Yes. Yes, of course. I have so much to tell you. When are you free?” Chris asked.
“What about for lunch? I could get the nanny to watch Caleb and we could get together for drinks or something.”
“Sure, that’s fine. But if you can’t get your nanny to come in, bring him with you. We’ll forego drinks for something else.”
I felt my heart flutter in my chest and I tried to ignore the tugging sensation in my gut.
“All right. Um—let me give her a call and I’ll text you.”
“I’ll be ready and waiting,” he said.
An hour later, I was passing off Caleb to his nanny and going to meet Chris. And man, did he look hot. I shook my head as visions of his body against mine danced behind my eyes. I wasn’t here to screw him. I wasn’t here to fulfill some short-fused desire.
I was here to talk with him.
I was here to figure out what the hell went wrong in my plan.
He took me into his arms in a massive hug and I had to catch myself. I could feel my body wanting to melt into him and I couldn’t let that happen. My hands fell onto his back and I slid my hands down his muscles, choking back my own groan at the strength that coursed through his body.
“So? What’s
this good news you have for me?” I asked.
“You’re looking at the new choreographer for Hollywood’s latest reality television dance competition.”
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“I’m not. I signed the contract and sent it in a couple of days ago.”
“Chris, that’s huge. Congratulations.”
“What jobs have been keeping you busy?”
“Hmm?”
“Your jobs. I’m assuming that’s why you haven’t been available to hook up until now,” he said.
“Um—they’re—going well,” I said. “Sometimes being a mom gets in the way of things, too.”
“Everything okay with Caleb?” he asked.
“Oh yeah. He’s fine. Just a growing boy with growing pains.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
The hairs on the back of my neck rose at his question, and I swallowed hard to try and choke down the heat rising up my spine.
“Nah. He’s good. We’re good. Everything’s good.”
“Good,” Chris said. “You look good.”
“Can we find another word other than good?”
“Okay. You look—breathtaking?” he asked.
As I felt myself blush at his words, I mentally kicked myself for it. What the fuck was going on? Why the hell was my body acting this way?
“You know, the walk here isn’t actually that long,” I said.
“You walked here?” he asked. “Your apartment’s, like—ten minutes away from here.”
“Sure, in a car. But it’s only a four mile walk.”
“But you walked here?” he asked. “In the heels you’re wearing?”
“I can’t look fabulous walking for four miles in heels?”
“Did something happen to your car?”
