Buying the Bride

by Penny Wylder

  Andrew presses a kiss to my neck. “There wasn’t nearly enough screaming.”

  “I’m not a screamer.”

  “You will be,” he says, spinning me so my back is to the window.

  I feel dizzy with my back to the world, like I could fall at any moment. Andrew doesn’t waste any time, instead of pushing back in, he drops to his knees, devouring me with his mouth. A second orgasm explodes through me, and my knees are on the verge of buckling. My breath is coming in huge, heaving gasps, but I don’t scream.

  He smiles up at me with a wicked smile on his face. “Scream for me.”

  “No,” I say, but I’m smiling back. I’m going to do my best, and so is he.

  His mouth covers me again, lips closing over my clit and sucking deep. I swear I almost come again, those lips are magic. He teases me with his tongue, drawing circles and patterns, focused entirely on that little bundle of nerves. I’m so wet that he slides against me, but he drinks me in like he’s dying of thirst. I hold on until I can’t anymore, and I come, the pleasure pouring over me like a waterfall.

  Andrew stands and spins me back to the window. “Let’s see if there’s anyone watching now.” He slams in to the hilt, and I bite my lip to hold back the scream I swore I wouldn’t give. His hands slide up my body as he fucks me, and every touch feels like it has echoes.

  I look down towards the High Line, and there is someone watching. The Tai Chi class is breaking up, and a man is standing, watching. Arousal washes through me like wildfire and I shudder. Andrew sees the man at the same time and laughs, knowing this is just turning me on even more. “Now you have your audience,” he whispers.

  He thrusts in again, and I realize that this whole time he’s been holding back. This is so much more than what I’ve felt before, even just with him. I can’t think, can’t breathe. My fingers grab at the glass of the window in attempt to hold on to something, to anchor myself, but I can’t.

  Every stroke brings me closer to my next orgasm, and it’s big. I can feel it building like I can see it from far away, and it grows. The man down below has pointed us out to some of his classmates and now several people are looking up, watching.

  Andrew wraps his arm around me, fingers finding my clit effortlessly, and I’m so damn close. I’m moaning now, begging him to finish me, let me come again. I’m shaking with it, right on the edge, and he doesn’t stop. Andrew pounds into me, and then his thumb comes down on my clit and I’m screaming. I’m coming, and it tears through me like a storm. I sag against the window as he continues to move, and I feel his cock jerk as he comes too.

  This pleasure feels like it’s never going to end, and I would be perfectly happy if it didn’t. I sag against the window as he slows, glancing down at our audience. Everyone has moved on except for the first man, who has a smile the size of Texas on his face.

  My body is shivering with aftershocks, and as Andrew pulls out of me, I suddenly feel like something’s missing. He scoops me up and carries me back to his bed, where the coffee he made us—still warm—is waiting. “Well, I guess you are a screamer,” he says when we’ve settled back into the bed.

  I snort. “Maybe I’m only a screamer with you.”

  “I’m just fine with that.”

  I finish my coffee and am dozing when I hear Andrew pick up his cellphone and make a call. “Hi, May, I’m going to be working from home today. Just let me know if there’s anything urgent.”

  “You don’t have to stay home because of me,” I say through a fog of incoming sleep after he hangs up.

  Andrew pulls me closer, fitting me against his chest. “I’d much rather stay here in bed with you. And tonight, we’re going to dinner.”

  11

  I shouldn’t have expected anything less, but going to dinner with Andrew is way more than I imagined. He fits me in a dress that he hasn’t debuted and calls easily the fanciest car I’ve ever seen to take us to the restaurant. I raise an eyebrow when it pulls up to the curb. “Business is really that good, huh?”

  He winks. “It’s been all right.”

  The young man driving the car hops out, and Andrew opens the door for me, and surprises me when he actually gets into the driver’s seat. He sees my look. “I’m not really the chauffeur type.”

  “There are certain advantages to having a driver you know.”

  “Oh?”

  I reach over and touch his arm, “You are free to do whatever you like while you’re being driven around.”

  Even though his eyes are still on the street in front of us, I see the color in them deepen. “That’s an excellent point. Maybe I’ll think about that for next time.”

  Andrew drives us to a restaurant in midtown called Serenity. It’s gorgeous Asian fusion, with dark and rich decor and a vibe of relaxed elegance. We’re seated immediately, and I wonder if Andrew comes here regularly, though I’m too busy taking in the little details of the restaurant to ask. Sculptures of glass flowers erupt at different points in the room, fabric twists in elegant drapes from the ceiling, and colored lights in the floor slowly rotate through the spectrum, giving the room a shifting rainbow glow.

  “So,” Andrew says when we’ve settled and ordered, “you told me at the party that I’d hear the story of what you wanted to be.”

  I shake my head. “You don’t want to hear that.”

  He catches my hand across the table. “I do, actually.”

  I huff a sigh. It’s not a story that I particularly enjoy telling, but I don’t think he’s going to let it go. “I wanted to be an interior designer. I went to school for it, and I even got a job right out of college. Heidi Carson’s company.”

  Andrew raises an eyebrow, and I can tell he’s impressed. Heidi runs one of the best design outfits in town.

  “I was assisting her with the intent to move up to be an independent designer. I was working with her on a job, and offhand I made a suggestion, a small edit to one of her designs. The client loved it and wanted it implemented in more of the house.”

  I swallow, pushing down the familiar ache in my chest. “The next day Heidi called me into her office and fired me. She said that I wasn’t ever supposed to make suggestions like that in front of a client, and that since I wasn’t a full designer yet my opinion didn’t count. That I made her look like a fool because she wasn’t the one that suggested what the client really loved. I tried to find another job after that, but no one would take me. I didn’t have a choice but to find another job. So three years and countless retail jobs later, here we are.”

  I look down at the table, taking a breath. There are more details to that story, the countless interviews that I got based on my portfolio and credentials, and the pained look on the interviewers faces when they got a well-timed phone call. No one wants to cross someone that big in the business, and they had no loyalty to a twenty-something nobody. But I don’t want to relive all of that by dragging out the story longer than it needs to be. I told him the high points.

  Andrew folds his hands together on the table, and he looks troubled. “So that’s why you said your opinion didn’t matter yesterday.”

  Lifting my shoulders in a shrug, I carefully avoid his gaze.

  “Delia, look at me.”

  It takes me a second, but I do.

  “Your opinion one-hundred-percent matters. Heidi was clearly threatened by what you did, and reacted very badly. But that has no bearing on whether what you say has value. It does.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble. Rationally, I know what he says is true, but it’s hard to erase that ringing voice in my head that’s saying that I don’t matter.

  “I’ve used Heidi and her company before. That won’t happen again.”

  Our food arrives, and it’s the perfect distraction. There’s a little glowing spark in my stomach from his words and his promise not to engage Heidi again, but I don’t want to talk about Heidi or my issues, not when we’ve been having such a good time. I see my opening. “Do you have an idea for your next show?”

 
Andrew’s eyes light up, and he starts to speak. I don’t wonder why everyone loves him and wants to be involved with him and work with him. The passionate way he speaks about everything—especially his work—is contagious. “I have a few ideas for that fall collection. But I was thinking about doing a special show before that to advertise some of the stuff we already have, and of course, for the publicity.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  He tilts his head. “I want to use the gallery again, I think. It’s a great space and really flexible. As for theme, I’m thinking something royal and exotic. A good transition between summer and fall because of jewel tones.”

  “That could be fun,” I say.

  “Or maybe I just want to put diamonds all over your body and make you sparkle.”

  Arousal sparks low in my belly, and my mouth goes dry. “How would that fit the theme of royalty?”

  “You’d be the queen, of course.” The smirk on his face does things to me, and I’m suddenly squirming in my seat, ready to drag him back to his apartment and fuck him again. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that.

  The rest of our meal is light and easy, trading silly ideas for the art show and flirting, each of us getting a little more turned on. No more talk of past disappointments.

  It’s a perfect summer evening, and I’m enjoying the breeze as Andrew goes to get the car. The sky is a beautiful plum purple, and I can’t keep the smile off my face. I’m not sure how I got so lucky.

  “You were with Andrew Xellum in there.”

  I look away from the sky, blinking as a tall brunette saunters towards me. “Yes, I was.”

  Her expression turns to one of disgust. “Looks like he finally found model that he thought was good enough to fuck him. Don’t worry though, you’re not special. He’ll drop you as soon as he’s bored and move onto his next ‘muse.’”

  I take a step back, her words hitting like knives. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  “It doesn’t matter who I am. But you should know that you’ve made a huge mistake.”

  “I don’t think I have.”

  A tiny smile appears on her mouth, and it makes my stomach crawl. “You’ll see if you feel the same way tomorrow.”

  And then she turns and walks away, disappearing around the corner just as Andrew pulls around with the car. I realize that my mouth is open in shock, and I feel a little numb as I get in the car. “Are you all right?” he asks.

  “I don’t think so.” I tell him what just happened as he drives, and I watch his expression harden. “Do you know who it was?”

  He shakes his head. “No. Like you said before—and it’s an accurate criticism—I don’t hire many blondes. As much as I try to treat all my employees well, there are always some conflicts. I’ve been doing this long enough that I have a few people who are less than friendly towards me.”

  The rest of the drive is silent. I’m not sure what to say and I can see from the look on Andrew’s face that he doesn’t want to talk about it. I’d be upset to if the reverse had happened. We’re still silent as he passes the car off to the same young man, but he takes my hand as we walk into his apartment building, and once we’re inside he pulls me closer, and he makes me forget her entirely.

  12

  This morning it’s not the sunlight that wakes me, it’s my phone. I didn’t set an alarm, so it’s a text. I click the button to acknowledge it without opening my eyes. Then there’s another sound. And another. And another. I groan, and I feel Andrew shift behind me. He rolls over and tucks his arm around my waist, and I can feel the hard length of his cock against my ass. “Good morning,” he whispers.

  “Bad morning,” I say. “I’m going to kill whoever is texting me.” Pulling my phone off the nightstand, I glance at the screen. All the texts are from Fleece. She knows I’m with Andrew. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many exclamation points in a single text message when I told her what happened yesterday.

  Have you seen this??

  What the fuck is going on?

  Delia, if you’re sleeping WAKE. UP.

  It’s only on the one website now but it will be everywhere in a few hours.

  I rub my eyes and try to ignore the way Andrew is kissing my neck while I click on the link she sent in her first text. If it’s another story about me and my racy moments, I’m fine. It’s probably just a news story about me and Andrew having dinner last night. But as the screen loads, my stomach drops. A giant black headline.

  ANDREW XELLUM DROVE ME INSANE: THE DESIGNER’S FORMER MUSE TELLS ALL

  I sit straight up in bed. Right below the headline is a picture of the woman from last night. “What the fuck,” I say.

  “What is it?”

  I pass him the phone. Now I know what she meant by seeing how I felt today. She knew that story was coming out. “Shit,” Andrew says, grabbing his phone and dialing.

  He’s on the phone with May in seconds, who’s already heard the news. I pick my phone back up and read the article. I want to know what she’s saying. I know immediately that none of this is true. She’s saying that Andrew pushed her to her breaking point. That he never let her eat because he wanted her to be thinner for his shows, that he was controlling of her and her life and appearance to the point of abuse. That he kept her locked up in a house so that no one could see her unless he allowed it. The woman—Maya Hart—is someone I recognize now. She used to do what I do for Andrew in terms of modeling, and I always thought her work was brilliant. Not only that, but she has some of the world’s biggest campaigns right now. I’m surprised that I didn’t recognize her last night, but I chalk it up to the fact that I was too shocked by what she was saying.

  She claims that she had to go to rehab for anorexia and get psychiatric help because he abused her. Further, she claims that any person associated with him, especially models, are in danger.

  Bullshit. I’ve seen the way Andrew treats his models. He’s the ultimate professional, and I’ve never ever seen him tell anyone they were fat or that they needed to lose weight. He hasn’t locked me up or ever tried to control my everyday life. I’m not sure why she’s doing this, but it’s not true. None of it. I know it in my gut.

  Andrew comes back into the room, already half-dressed and still on the phone. “Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hold all the media requests until I get there.” He hangs up the phone and is buttoning his shirt.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I have to go to the studio, I need to get ahead of this.”

  “Of course,” I nod. “I should go home for a little while, too. I could use some fresh clothes. But I’ll see you later?”

  He kisses me briefly, though I notice he doesn’t meet my eyes. “Of course.” Grabbing his phone and a jacket he heads out the front door. I take my time getting ready. I root around in Andrew’s workshop until I find something more casual to wear that won’t have me doing the two-day walk of shame in that party dress. But I take the dress with me. No way in hell I’m letting that go.

  I haven’t answered Fleece, and I know that she’s freaking out, so I decide to stop by the Blind Scorpion on the way home. The minute I walk in she’s on me, “What the hell is going on?”

  I drop onto my perch at the bar, even though it’s way too early to drink anything. “Honestly, I don’t have a clue.” I fill her in on everything that happened over the last days, from the incredible sex to Maya confronting me.

  “So what are you going to do?” she asks. “Are you going to break it off? Stop working for him?”

  “Why on earth would I do that?”

  Fleece gives me a look. “I’m not dumb. I read the article.”

  “And you actually believed it?”

  She has the good sense to look a little embarrassed. “Like I told you before, I’ve heard things. I wouldn’t put what she says past him.”

  I shake my head. “I’ve never seen him do anything like that. And you’ve seen me? Has he tried to control my life? No.”

  �
��That’s true…” she says, wiping down the bar with a cloth even though it’s already clean.

  “I don’t know why Maya is doing this, and Andrew left too quickly for me to ask, but there’s more to this.” I grab my bag, suddenly determined to find out what’s really happening. “I’ll let you know when I find out.”

  Fleece gives me a small smile. “For what it’s worth, I hope you’re right.”

  It doesn’t take me long to swing by my apartment and grab the few things I need before I’m on my way to Xellum Studios. I should have made Andrew tell me exactly what this meant this morning. My phone is continuously buzzing with questions from friends and notifications of new articles surrounding it. People are asking questions about me, and whether Andrew is subjecting me to the same ‘abuse.’ He hasn’t been answering my calls. Directly to voicemail every time.

  Whatever it is that Maya was trying to do, so far she’s been successful. There was an announcement that Whitman & Crown are considering dropping Andrew’s line because of the ‘revelations.’ If they drop out, other companies will too.

  There’s a crowd of reporters outside the studio. Up till now, I haven’t been afraid of the press. But fighting my way through the crowd who’s shouting my name and pressing microphones into my face is scary. I finally break through and the security guard lets me inside. For a second, I just lean against the door and catch my breath. This is insane. Absolute madness.

  The studio seems oddly deserted. I don’t hear the usual hum of noise that is the sewing shop and the other assistants bustling around. Upstairs is quiet too. I head down the hallway towards Andrew’s office, and I hear his voice and also May’s. I come around the corner and May is at her desk. She sees me and freezes mid-sentence on her phone call. “I’m going to have to call you back,” she says into the receiver. “Delia, he can’t see you right now.”