HERO (The Complete Series)

by Bella Love-Wins

  He took my hand and led me into his bathroom. It took my breath away. The bathroom was large enough to do yoga poses in, and probably a couple of cartwheels. The spacious shower stall was large and flush with the floor, with tempered glass doors from floor to ceiling. And inside it was also a dramatic boulder rock for seating. It was pretty obvious that Matt had this room redone to his masculine style. The colors were earth tones, with natural lighting and textured tiles. And it was topped off with a steam shower. Sweet Jesus, was it ever decadent.

  He might have read my mind because he rested his hands on my shoulder and said, “Yup. This is my fave space in the whole condo. I spend a lot of time in here, so it was the only place I redecorated when my parents passed.”

  “It’s just, gorgeous,” I replied, wondering why a guy would admit to spending a lot of time in the bathroom. Admire yourself much?

  He turned on the shower and I stepped in. The deliciously warm water rejuvenated my tired body. Matt stepped in behind me and started to scrub my back with a bath sponge. Could this be what heaven was like? I turned toward him and stopped short for a moment, admiring his delightfully perfect body. For a moment, I couldn’t believe I was in this fantastic place with such an incredibly hot fireman.

  Hero worship.

  I traced my hand down his chest, lingering slowly to feel his rock hard pecs and rippling abs. He guided my hand down to his completely erect shaft and slid his fingers to explore my already throbbing clit. I let out a long moan, and he lifted me up in one swift motion. My legs wrapped instinctively around his hips, impatient for his cock to slide inside me. In three long strides, he was at the wall of the shower. He propped me up against it and in a single thrust, his long, hard shaft was buried inside my hot, clenched channel.

  “Fuck me hard, Matt,” I groaned to him in a sultry voice I barely recognized. It was like I was temporarily possessed by a nymphomaniac who couldn’t ever get enough sex.

  “God, Kate, you’re so tight and wet, baby,” he answered as the water lapped our upper bodies and splashed everywhere from our jerking motion. “Fuck, I didn’t wear a condom.”

  “It’s ok baby,” I said quickly, enjoying feeling his bare cock inside me rocking over and over again. I was well past any sense of care about the logistics of protective sex. “I’m on the pill, and I’m 100% clean.”

  “Fuck! I think I’m gonna come,” he exclaimed. He thrust his shaft deeper inside me, filling my space and then some. As he said those words it triggered my orgasmic rush. My head tilted back in complete escape. I felt his rhythm speed up without warning. In one long, hard thrust I felt his body shudder and then his release deep inside me.

  “I don’t know what you do to me, Kate,” he said after he recovered. Our eyes locked on each other, and I could see this tender, gentle gaze in his eyes. It gripped at my heart. Hard. All I wanted to do was take care of him and agree to whatever he would ever ask of me. Any man who could look at a woman in that vulnerable, honest way, had to be deserving of a woman’s complete and all-encompassing love.

  He lowered me so my feet touched the floor, yet kept me pinned against the shower wall. Warm, steamy water flowed down our bodies as we stood there. It was surreal. Once we gathered up our senses, we finished our shower in silence but smiled at each other whenever we made eye contact.

  * * *

  “Hey, you should go check the stuff in the next room and find something comfortable to wear,” Matt said as we dried ourselves off in his bedroom. “I want to take you for breakfast. Well, more like brunch. You need to eat. And I’m beyond starved.”

  “Okay,” I replied. “You know, you didn’t need to buy me all that stuff.”

  “That was nothing,” he answered. “I just had Ross swing by our Holt’s store downtown. The girls were more than happy to get those together for New York’s newest hero.”

  “Holts?” I asked, sliding into the robe he had put out for me. But what I really wanted to ask about was the girls. What girls?

  “Yeah. We’re a major shareholder in Holts,” he answered. “It’s not the best brand, but it’s up there.”

  “Nice,” I replied, a little distracted. I was still thinking about the girls he mentioned. What the hell was wrong with me, feeling a pang of jealousy at the mere mention of another female?

  “And the clothes are of excellent quality. We carry a lot of the other designer labels too. My mom really loved their stuff.”

  “Awww, that’s sweet,” I answered as if my responses were on auto-pilot.

  “Go on,” he encouraged, and then smiled his broad, playful smile. “Before my hard-on kicks in again.”

  I smiled and walked out into the hall toward the room.

  “Check it out. I hope there’s enough to choose from.”

  I let out a soft gasp when I walked into the spare room. It was almost filled to the rafters. Racks upon racks of designer dresses, tops, pants, furs and winter coats stood in rows as though I was in a department store. All manner of shoes and winter boots were laid out on top of their respective boxes, just waiting for their new owner to try on for size. It was sweet of Matt to get these for me, but it was way too much stuff.

  I looked through the pants rack and pulled out a pair of straight-leg blue jeans. I found a simple, white cashmere sweater in the tops section – it really was too much – and walked back into my room to get dressed. As I got out in the hall, I heard loud noises coming from downstairs. I was concerned because it sounded like a heated argument. I didn’t recognize the female voice, but then again, I only knew Ross and Yolanda from Matt’s world.

  Looking back, it probably wasn’t a good idea to have gone downstairs in just my robe. Matt and a woman about my age were in an animated argument. So animated I couldn’t understand a word they said as they talked and screamed over each other. I couldn’t see her face as her back was turned. What I did see was that she was dressed to the nines in designer labels from head to toe.

  As I approached them they stopped mid-sentence. She turned around. It was Joy.

  “What the fuck is she doing here, Matt?” Joy asked, and glared at me.

  “I should be asking you that, Joy,” I replied quickly. Probably too quickly. “Why are you here?”

  “Not that it’s any of your fucking business, tramp,” she started. “I’m Matt’s girlfriend.”

  * * *

  TO BE CONTINUED

  (Get the first 2 chapters of Book 2 below)

  Book Two - Hero For Me

  Chapter 1

  Two days had already passed since I had last seen Matt, and the pain was still lurking. After Joy showed up at his place, I didn’t wait to hear another word from either of them. I had quickly run back to the guest room, put on what comfortable clothes I could find, grabbed my purse, and left.

  When I had gotten back down to the elevator, Joy was gone. Matt kept repeating that he could explain, and it felt like reliving Chad Bridges all over again. So much so, that I refused to hear him out. I stood at the elevator, waiting for it to return so that I could escape. Matt insisted that it was a simple misunderstanding, and if I would only stop and listen to hear him out, that I would not need to leave. I couldn’t.

  I had to get away. There really was nothing that he could have said that would convince me to give him a chance. What more did I need to know? Matt and Joy were an item. The last thing that I wanted to be was the other woman. Sure, it felt good being with him, but that was before I had this new information.

  Finally the elevator had arrived, so I could get as far away from him as possible. I had asked the concierge to call a cab to take me home. I still had nowhere to go, but I knew that I could take care of that quickly enough. There were two decent hotels around the corner from the radio station, so I directed the taxi driver to the one that was closest. With just a purse and its contents as my only remaining possessions, I checked in and went to the room that the hotel receptionist assigned.

  The room was quaint; however I knew that it was the bes
t choice, if I had to be there for longer than a month. I had no idea what would happen with the insurance for the old place and in what timing, so I knew I had to rely on my savings to get by in the meantime. One good thing was its proximity to the radio station. As I had begun to think about it, I realized I really missed my job. It had only been a few days that I was away, and with everything that had happened, from the fire, to the hospital, to Matt, I hadn’t had much time to notice.

  The very day that I left Matt’s place, I had gone into work. George was surprised and felt I really should have been resting. Still, he was happy to see me because of how busy things had become. The station was gearing up for the food drive and fundraiser, and they were shorthanded. I spent the rest of that first day organizing the food donations, and researching content and communities on social media to help get the word out. And thankfully, because it was so busy, George didn’t ask me anything about Matt. He offered me to stay with him and Richard again, but this time, I really needed to be on my own, and he understood. That night, when I got back to the hotel, one of the reception desk staff waved at me to come to speak to her.

  “Is there something you need?” I asked her.

  “No, ma’am” she answered. “I just wanted to let you know that you received a substantial delivery. As we don’t have a lot of storage, we placed it all in the room that joins with yours, and opened the adjoining door so you could access it.”

  “What kind of delivery?” I inquired further. I had not ordered anything to be delivered, so I was confused.

  “It’s from Matt Lewis, ma’am,” she answered. “And he also prepaid for your room, well now it’s two rooms, and it’s paid for until the end of January.”

  “Who authorized you to do such a thing?” I asked, with a slight irritation in my tone, surprised that the hotel would allow this.

  “Well ma’am,” she explained, “Mr. Lewis’ company owns this hotel.”

  “Oh,” I answered, annoyed. “Well I certainly hope you won’t be handing over my room key to Mr. Lewis should he ask you for it. Will you? Please let me know now, so I can check out if needed, and go to a place where I have complete privacy.”

  “Certainly not ma’am,” she answered. “I mean, yes he does, as the owner of the hotel, have the ability to access your room, however I don’t believe he will disregard your request. I’ll make a note not to have anyone disturb you or deliver anything to you for the rest of your stay.”

  “I appreciate that,” I stated firmly. “Thank you.”

  My blood was boiling. I know that hotels would deliver items to people’s rooms. This was just too much. It all reminded me of my parents’ control. Matt may have meant well, but the invasion only served to make me resent him and his power. I was tempted to look up another hotel and move immediately. My gut told me it was probably a wasted effort, because he would probably own half of the other places in this area, or would know the people who did.

  Having come from that life, I knew with certainty how small the circle of power really is. What most people didn’t know is that less than 50 families around the world control over 80% of all of the Western world’s assets. I decided to stay put, but I refused to enter that adjoining room or to use a single item from it. Instead, I went back out to one of the neighboring boutiques, and bought my own clothes, shoes and other things I needed. I was not going to have him think I could be bought.

  I kept busy the next day. There really was nothing that I should’ve expected from Matt, and honestly, there was no one to blame but myself. I had just presumed Matt was available and good God, look at him. A man so insanely attractive had to have been taken. I wouldn’t say that I was heart-broken. It was more of a disappointment. I was numb. Maybe a little confused. The events of the last few days alone, without Matt in the picture, could explain how I was feeling. I knew, though, that Matt was a factor, so there was no use denying it.

  Every time I thought about Matt, nausea would rise up to my throat. It’s not that I felt he betrayed me. There was nothing to betray. I’d only known him for two days. Still, there were points where I felt I couldn’t function. Like something was broken. He had been growing on me, but I had no explanation for how I was feeling. We were just getting to know each other, and there I was, like a bundle of frayed nerve endings.

  Maybe a part of it was the loss of hope. I had to admit, I was beginning to hope for something to blossom between Matt and me, before I learned about Joy. Hope is one of those intangible feelings. It’s something that could make you live an entire lifetime in one moment. It’s like those science fiction movies, where we have carbon copies of ourselves in many different dimensions.

  Hope can be a window, where you can see one possible you, and the path of your whole life and the people around you in the blink of an eye. My pain, then, must have been my mourning the loss of that one possible future, where there might have been something special between Matt and me. Whatever it was, I needed to get a fucking grip. I admitted I was being foolish, and just had to accept that he was not The One.

  Over those last few days, with the fire and everything else, I had gotten used to not being online and not checking my texts and messages. As liberating as it was, I felt disconnected. I decided I would take that evening to clear out my inboxes and social media accounts, say hello to a few people, and reply where possible. I ordered room service, then sat on the sofa to start on the text messages first. Most were contacts from the media, and easy to delete. A few were from old college and high school friends, congratulating me and checking to see if I was ok. I noticed one of the more recent messages was from Matt, and said:

  “Hi Kate. It’s Matt. I’m really sorry. Please give me a chance to explain.”

  I hesitated for a moment, and then deleted it. I didn’t want an explanation. I wanted a single man that I was attracted to, that felt the same way for me, so I could at least get to know him better. Was that a lot to ask? Probably.

  I got through the rest of the text messages, deleting all except for two. The first was from a journalist from the New York Times. I had always dreamt of working for them when I was back in high school and college. I decided I would keep that message, more as a momento than anything else. The second was a strange note from a number I didn’t recognize, and without a name. It simply said,

  “Kate Rock. When will you be back for #newsrockcontest?”

  I didn’t know what to make of it. I had all my coworkers’ numbers in my phone, so their names would have shown up beside the message, if it had been one of them. None of our listeners ever had access to our contact information. I decided I’d keep this message and ask George about it the next day.

  Next to tackle were voice messages. I made myself comfortable on the sofa beside the bed, kicking off my shoes and resting my legs across the armrest. I got into a nice routine of listening and deleting the bulk of the messages, as they were mostly media requests. The last one was from Matt, and my heart tugged for a moment, from what he said.

  “Kate, it’s me, Matt. Listen, I’d really like to explain about Joy. In person. Face-to-face. It’s not what you think. Give me a call when you can.”

  Deleting his message was a little harder to do. What could there be to explain? What did he mean that it wasn’t what I thought? It’s either he was in a relationship with Joy or not. He never said he was not in a relationship as I had stood waiting at the elevator. He just kept repeating that he could explain, and to me, that meant they were together.

  I took a deep breath and went onto Facebook. There were too many posts, tags and messages to process. I put up a short note in my news feed to thank everyone for their kind words and support. I also directed them to visit the radio station website or Facebook page so they could support the food drive or donate. I checked the messages people left, and deleted most of them, including one from Matt that was similar to the text that he had sent. Deleting that one was easier. I reminded myself that in a couple of days I’d been over it all. Time had a way with
these emotions. Somehow, deep down, I wasn’t fully convinced. I sighed aloud and re-focused on the task.

  There was a knock on the door and a call from the person on the other side, announcing it was my room service order. I went over to the door and looked through the peephole. You couldn’t be too careful in these New York hotels these days. It was a hotel server, dressed in black and white with a white apron. As I opened the door, he wheeled the meal into my room on a cart, and then turned to leave without handing me a bill to sign.

  “Did you forget the bill, sir?” I asked politely. It had become second nature for me to address server staff that way. My parents had had a tendency to be mean to our maids, drivers and the butler – actually they were rude to anyone they thought were not in their social class – so I did the opposite. I had seen how kind my grandmother was to our house staff, and decided I wanted to be like her. She was nothing, if not kind and humane.

  “There’s no bill, ma’am,” he answered. “I was given instructions that anything sent to this room was not to have any charge to the occupant. I mean to you, ma’am.”

  “Alright,” I answered. I knew there was no point in arguing with him. Matt was making his presence felt, but in a way I resented. If he had known me better, he wouldn’t do all these things. To many other females, his gestures would probably have been met with blushes, smiles and cheer. It was a shame he didn’t know me. All of his effort was fodder for me to like him less, which made me feel even less emotionally bruised. I could have thanked him for making it easier to get over it.

  Chapter 2

  I probably dozed off after eating, because I was abruptly awoken to the sound of someone knocking on the door. I walked over and was sure to look through the peephole again this time, because the knocking was fairly loud. I should have known. It was Matt. For a brief moment, I thought I would just not answer at all. How would he know if I was not at home? Then I remembered he owned the place and would probably be able to check. I then heard him call out to me.