by Harlow Grace
I thought I had my fucking life under control. Turned out to be the biggest lie I’d ever told myself.
Chapter Thirty-Five — Maya
What if Larissa was completely wrong? What if Oliver had moved on and really wanted to marry his longtime fuck buddy? I couldn’t bring myself to think of her any other way, yet jealousy gripped my heart as I sat there wishing I could be her.
Since I’d walked into his office, my stepbrother hadn’t attempted to touch me in any way—not even a brotherly hug. Instead it felt like he was ensuring Bianca was always between us, like now, sitting at the counter. She was all over him, her hand on his leg.
Sometimes they’d slip into talking Danish to one another; it came so naturally to them. Oliver was smart, so I wasn’t surprised when I heard him order our drinks from the barman in fluent Danish. But talking to her and excluding me from their conversation hurt like a motherfucker.
“Um, I need to go to the ladies room,” I said, sliding off the barstool and back onto the impossibly high heels I’d worn to make my legs look longer. I should have saved myself the effort of dressing to kill. The dress, the shoes, the hair, the makeup—none of it made any damn difference. Suddenly I just wanted to go home, curl up in bed, pull the covers over my head, and go into a deep sleep.
Bianca slipped off her chair and hooked into my arm. “I need to go too. We’ll go together, yeah?” She leaned over and kissed Oliver full on the mouth, sticking her tongue down his throat. I rolled my eyes. For fuck sake, she was going to be gone ten minutes tops; she wasn’t leaving the country. Jealousy did nasty things to me, and right now I wished I had a voodoo doll of Bianca I could stick all sorts of pins into.
Oliver grinned sheepishly and took a large sip of his beer. I followed Bianca as she dragged me through the crowd of trendy hipsters. A few times I had to grab hold of something to stop me from twisting my ankle in the precarious heels I was wearing, yet she never slowed down. Only when we reached the inside of the washroom did she let go of my arm.
She swung around, glaring at me with unadulterated hatred in her eyes. “Listen kid, I don’t know what your fucking game is, but Oliver’s mine. He has been for years. We would’ve been married a long time ago if you hasn't fucked with his head.” She threw back her head and laughed. “Yeah, bitch, I know all about you seducing your brother. You’re such a slut. I'm surprised he didn’t throw you right out when you came to his office.” Pure venom dripped from her voice.
Staggering backward as if she’d slapped me, my hand moved to cover my mouth.
“That’s right, bitch, you should be ashamed of yourself. Oliver doesn’t want you—he told me himself. He said moving here was the best thing he could’ve done. So spare yourself further embarrassment and just leave before it gets ugly.”
My throat burned as I bit back the tears. God, I was a fool for believing Oliver would want me. Of course he didn’t— he wouldn’t have move to another damn continent if he did. Heat flushed over my cheeks as the truth dawned on me. Bianca was right—Oliver hadn’t even attempted to touch me, and he looked anywhere but at me.
Did Larissa purposely lie to me so that I could make a complete idiot of myself while she laughed at me behind my back? And if Bianca knew everything about Oliver and me, he must've told her. They probably laughed at my stupidity, too. I’d felt so confident in myself coming here, and now I just felt unwanted and plain stupid.
“Um . . . I have a headache. Please tell Oliver I said goodbye,” I said as calmly as I could. I couldn’t get out of this place fast enough.
“Shall I tell him an emergency came up and you had to go back home?” she offered, grinning.
Tears blurred my vision and any second they were going to fall hard and fast. I didn’t need her to see that, too—it'd just give her and Oliver something else to laugh about.
“Tell him anything you damn well want.” I spun around on my heels and made my way to the exit, escaping into the cold night air without my coat or scarf. Thankfully I’d taken my purse to freshen my lip gloss and didn’t need to face Oliver again to retrieve it. I didn’t care that the icy wind whipped around my body; I just wanted to put as much distance between us as I could.
Larissa had a fucking lot of explaining to do. But it was my own fault. I wanted to believe her. Wanted to think that after three years Oliver yearned for me as much as I did for him. That he felt as incomplete without me as I felt without him.
But now I knew the truth. He probably hadn’t thought of me for a day since he left the US. He probably came to Denmark because Bianca was there. What a stupid fool I was. When it came to Oliver, I just couldn’t ever see the damn truth, even if it hit me over the head with a stick.
I flagged down the first taxi that looked unoccupied. Luckily the driver understood English and I gave him the address of the hotel I’d booked into only hours earlier. I'd get some sleep—probably cry all night, of course—and then after breakfast I'd figure out what to do next.
At this moment it was just all too damn hard. I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel. All the insecurities of feeling lost and alone, unwanted and unloved, came flooding back.
I couldn’t wait to get back to my hotel room, away from prying eyes. A woman in a low-cut, clingy red dress without a coat to shield her from the weather probably screamed slut.
The taxi driver grinned from ear to ear. I didn’t want to wait for change, so he’d just scored a huge tip. I practically ran to the elevator, praying it would swallow me up and take me up into the sky where I’d be safe.
Fumbling in my purse for my magnetic key card, I cursed as I remembered I’d been so excited when I left the hotel earlier that I’d just shoved it into my coat pocket. But luck was on my side that night after all. The cleaner for our floor was just wheeling her trolley laden with dirty sheets toward the elevator when I called out to her.
“Hi,” I said with a wide smile as I approached her. God, I hoped she still remembered me from earlier—it would be so much easier than going back to reception for a new key. “I’m wondering if you can help me get back into my room? I accidentally left my coat behind and my key is in the pocket.” I rubbed up and down my arms, still feeling the cold from earlier despite the warmth of the hotel.
She looked up and smiled back, “I don’t normally do this, but since I was here when you checked in and asked for an allergy-free pillow, I remember your lovely face.”
Thank goodness Daddy taught me to tip well—I was sure that helped her remember me. Wearily she shuffled back to my door and opened it with her master key card, letting me into the darkness.
“Thanks, that’s very kind of you. Saves me an elevator trip to the lobby.”
“Goodnight.. Hope you can get your coat back tomorrow.’
“Yeah, me too,” I lied.
I closed the door and switched on the lights before I made my way straight into the bathroom to scratch through my toiletries. My blades had to be there somewhere. I always carried a packet with me wherever I went. Pure stainless steel. No expiration date.
I’d made up my mind on the short taxi ride to the hotel. Maybe it was brain freeze from the cold, but I’d made a monumental decision. This was the night I was putting an end to all the bullshit that was my fucking life. I'd had enough of it all. It ended right there, right at that moment.
In a hotel room in Denmark. All alone.
Chapter Thirty-Six — Oliver
Watching Bianca swing her hips as she sauntered back toward me, I kept looking behind her, waiting for Maya to appear. When she finally reached the table I’d secured for us, my stepsister still hadn’t appeared. Worried that she’d gotten lost since I’d moved a few feet away from where we’d sat before, my eyes kept darting around the space searching for her.
“Darling, the kid had to go back to her hotel. She has a headache. She said for me to tell you goodbye and that we should enjoy our evening together.” She smiled at me, flicking her fringe backward.
“What the fuck, B
ianca. What if she gets lost? And she doesn’t have her fucking coat either.” I glared at her, unable to comprehend her stupidity. Through gritted teeth, I hissed, “And never call Maya the kid again, understand?”
That was all I had time for. I had to find Maya before she disappeared. I grabbed a few notes from my wallet and threw them onto the table. “Get a taxi back to your place. I'm going to find Maya.”
Thank fuck I hadn’t allowed Bianca to move into my place. Sure, she slowly brought stuff over and left it at my place, but I made a point of not letting her feel as if it were her home.
Snatching up Maya’s coat and scarf, I went in the direction of the bathroom, hoping to bump into her before she left the building. It was fucking freezing out there and I didn’t want her catching her death.
I pushed my way impatiently through the throngs of people who’d multiplied like locusts in the last half hour, my eyes frantically searching for a dark head. A few times I thought I'd spotted her, but every time I was disappointed when it wasn’t her. My gut dropped to my shoes and my mouth went dryer by the second.
Maya was gone. Fuck.
My stomach pulled into a tight knot when I realized I had no idea where she was staying or what her phone number was. A few months back I’d caved in and called her number, just to hear her voice on her mailbox, and I’d discovered that she’d discontinued that service.
Her coat hung over my arm, and I could smell her fragrance lingering on it. It was driving me insane. But then a thought hit me—I checked the pockets, grinning when I saw a keycard for a hotel that was about five minutes away.
“Find me a taxi,” I yelled above the noise to the young waiter as I shoved money into his hand. He nodded and scurried off while I glanced around the room again. Still nothing.
Two minutes later the dude signaled me that a taxi was waiting. They must’ve been lined up outside the place, and for once I was glad I could escape the jolly bustle of a Friday night. The fact that Bianca let Maya leave without her coat was pissing me off more and more. I clenched my jaw, anger swirling in my gut. Jealousy was an ugly look on anyone. I knew because I’d worn it more times than I cared to admit.
I shivered as I opened the door to slide in beside the driver. I wanted to be up at the front so I could look out for a Maya—if she hadn’t taken a taxi, she’d be frozen stiff. Directing the taxi driver to the hotel, I sat forward in my seat, my gaze pinned to the road.
Being a Friday night, there was a hell of a lot more traffic in this part of town than midweek. I cursed as we stopped at one traffic light after another, sometimes barely moving a few yards before stopping again. As soon as we turned off the busy road though, I instructed the driver to go as fast as he could. I couldn’t wait any longer to find Maya.
I'd been checking the meter as we drove, so I just pulled a fifty from my wallet and threw it down onto the seat as soon as I’d hopped out.
“Thanks—and keep the change,” I said to the driver as I closed the door and marched into the hotel foyer through the revolving doors. I checked the magnetic card for a room number. Fuck. Nothing.
The line at the desk was longer than I had the patience for. For some bizarre reason I had the strangest sensation that I had to hurry or I'd be too late. For what I didn’t know, but I'd had a sort of sixth sense when it came to Maya, and I knew something was going to happen.
A pretty redhead dressed in the hotel uniform stood alone on the far side of the desk, her attention on a computer. I was in luck. Plastering my most charming smile on my face, I walked over to where she stood. I cleared my throat so she would look up at me.
A small frown marred her forehead as she moved her head upwards, irritation just under the false smile she was about to present me with. “Good evening,” I said in my strongest American accent. Danish women were suckers for the way I spoke. The frown evaporated and was replaced with a genuine smile.
“Good evening, sir. How may I be of assistance?” The way she was checking me out, I was sure she had a few things in mind, but I didn’t have time for small talk. Time was ticking and I had to get to that room. But I also knew that if I didn’t play along, she could give me grief—I turned the charm factor up a notch.
“I was wondering if you could help me, sweetheart? I need the room number to this key card please.”
Her eyebrow shot up as she took the card from me. “We don’t give out room numbers unless we have the occupant’s name on record,” she said in a heavy accent.
Not wanting to piss her off, I leaned against the counter casually. “My sister left her coat in the taxi.” I held up the coat as proof. “Poor thing, she must be jetlagged.” That part at least was true.
“I'm just about to sign off for the night, and then I’m out of here,” she said, smiling widely. “If you want, I could arrange for someone to take the coat up to her and you could buy me a drink to say thank you.”
Fuck. This wasn’t going my way. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all night, beautiful. But little sis left her asthma inhaler in the pocket and I just want to make sure she’s okay.” I was completely fucked if she asked to see the damn inhaler I'd just fabricated.
Alarm came over her face. “Oh, my little brother has asthma, too. It's terrible having to watch him suffer sometimes. His seems to get worse at night.” I wouldn’t have a clue, so I was willing to go along with anything she said if it would get me to Maya.
She turned her attention back to the computer and typed something into it. “Tell you what. Go check on your sister, and when you’re done I’ll be here.” She wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to me together with the key card.
“Thanks, babe,” I said, relief washing over me.
She laughed. “Sure. Your sister is in room 3003 on the top floor. Now hurry; I’m waiting for that drink.”
Crossing the foyer with long strides, I pressed the button to the elevator. If she’d just told me the room number, what had she written on the paper? I opened it slowly.
Clara—room 515. I'll be waiting.
Underneath she’d scribbled a heart and a smiley face. Crumpling the paper into a ball, I shoved it into my pocket as the doors opened. I stepped inside and sent up a prayer of gratitude that there weren’t ten other people in the car all wanting to get off at a different floor. As I went to press the button for the thirtieth floor I heard a laugh. Clara was inside the car with me.
What the fuck just happened?
Clara inserted a card into a slot and pressed a code into the keypad.
“I thought I’d come with you to check on your sister.” She waved her card at me, smiling. “This means we go directly to the top floor with no stops. Handy, huh?”
Fuck, how was I going to get rid of her? I had to keep my shit together. “That’s cool sweetheart, but why don’t you go to your room, five one five, and I’ll see you in a bit?” Luckily I’d remembered the number so that I’d sound more convincing.
“And miss all the fun?” she said, laughing as she pulled the front zipper of her dress down all the way to her waist. She wasn’t wearing a bra. “I love fucking in the elevator, American,” she said as she pushed the dress off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Fuck me—she wasn’t wearing panties either. She’d looked so professional, innocent even, standing behind the desk earlier.
I groaned loudly. Her legs went on forever in black heels and her pussy had been trimmed with only a small landing strip of dark brown hair. The red hair was fake.
Large brown nipples scraped against my arm. “Let's see how quickly you can come.” Seconds later her hand was on my dick, stroking through the fabric. I felt myself harden under her skillful fingers. A day ago I would have been up for this. A quick fuck on the way to the top floor was nearly as good as the mile high club. I wasn’t unfamiliar with down and dirty stranger sex. No names. No emotions. Just raw fucking.
She tugged on my pants zipper and pulled it down expertly—she’d obviously had plenty of practice. Stunned, I watch
ed her hand disappear into the opening and grab hold of my cock while she licked her lips.
Gripping both her wrists with one hand, I pushed her backwards. “Babe, I want to fuck you all night long, not just here.” I grabbed hold of a nipple and twisted until she gasped. “And I’m the one who calls the shots,” I growled, squeezing her tit forcefully in my palm, intending pain. “Do you understand?’”
She nodded. I turned her around and smacked her ass hard. She yelped, so I smacked again. “Later baby, when I can give you my full attention. Now get dressed like a good girl and go wait for me in your room.”
“Oh God,” she panted. “I'm so fucking wet. Just fuck me now and then I’ll go wait for you.”
“Did I say you can talk?” I growled, lifting my hand for another smack.
She whimpered as my hand connected to her ass, her pussy juices dripping down her leg. I threw back my head and laughed like a madman. Yesterday I would have fucked her upside down if that was what she wanted. Now I wanted no part of her. I had another woman on my mind.
Maya. She was all that mattered.
The elevator came to a stop.
“Get dressed,” I said as I left, already forgetting about her as I scrutinized the numbers looking for Maya’s room. She’d better be there. She’d better be okay. I slapped my hand to my forehead. I was the dumbest fuck on earth. No other pussy—no other woman could come close to Maya. I’d always known that. I wasn’t going to lose her again. To anyone or anything.
Once I reached her door I froze. My heart hammered against my ribs and my mouth went dry. I couldn’t just barge in even though I had a key. I knocked on the door and took a step back, controlling my breathing in an effort to stay the fuck calm.
A minute later I knocked again. Maybe she was asleep already. Jetlag was a real thing. I knocked again, this time considerably louder. Still nothing.
