by Cole, S. Ann
That island was worth it. It was the perfect slice of heaven he could transform into the resort of all resorts, smacked right in the middle of the ocean.
For that reason, this was an as-soon-as-possible take off, which meant he’d be canceling yet another night of plans with Krissan.
He knew she’d understand, though. She always did. Krissan wasn’t whiny, needy, or nagging, and handled situations with a heck of a lot more maturity than he expected. She understood the shit out of everything so much more than shit could even be understood, that Trevillo sometimes wished she would nag and complain. Wasn’t that of women’s nature?
He figured she just didn’t want the limited times they got together to be wasted on arguments. And he agreed. Because, on the real, she couldn’t possibly be all tranquil about the fact he left the state or country at least twice a week.
The beeping on his receiver hauled him from his thoughts, and he pressed the answer button. “What now, Milo?”
“Miss Sarah James is here to see you, sir.”
Right, because that’s just what he needed at the moment, wasn’t it?
Trevillo decided maybe it was time he started following his brother’s advice by being sure to send a prayer up to heaven before he left his house in the mornings. Maybe it would make getting through his insufferable 24 hours a lot easier.
It was Monday. One of his in-office days. So, of course, Sarah would pop up without appointment. The initial thought was to deny her visit, but with the knowledge of her recent tragedy, he was feeling somewhat sympathetic towards her. Trevillo tried reaching out to her a couple of times during the week-long media blast of Johnson James’ underworld discoveries, but he could never get hold of her, so he figured maybe she needed time to mourn.
Now it was six weeks later, and he was hoping she was over her husband’s death and wouldn’t crumble into a blubbering mess in his office, because he was inept when it came to bawling women.
“Send her in,” he said, and before he could even press the button on the receiver, Sarah was in his office, looking nothing like the mourning widow he expected.
In heels made for the nighttime, she wore a black skirt short enough to tempt men around the building to risk being sued for sexual harassment, and a red blouse with the three top buttons undone, exposing her spilling cleavage, while her long, dark hair flowed down her back and whispered around her hips.
Trevillo knew Sarah well enough to know she was dressed for seduction, and he suspected the person who was going to be seduced was him. Sucking in his cheeks, he cursed himself for his idiocy of feeling sympathetic towards her in the first place. He should’ve known this bitch never gave a shit about her husband. Dead or alive.
Eyeing her warily, he got up from behind his desk and rounded it to perch on the front, crossing his legs at the ankles. Disguising his features in a sympathetic expression, he started, “Sarah. It’s nice to see you’re holding up well. I’ve tried reaching out — ”
Trevillo forgot whatever bullshit he was about to spew when Sarah dipped inside her cleavage, took out a pocketknife, and flicked it open in one smooth go. The sweet sound of the knife flicking open lingered in the air.
Like he said, the woman was there to seduce.
Walking up to him without a word — Sarah wasn’t a talker during her seduction sessions, she just did what she knew would make a man give in — she pressed the blade of the knife against his lips, and Trevillo tried to send a message to his cock that this wasn’t the woman it should be muscling up for, but his cock wouldn’t listen. Instead, it hardened against Sarah’s touch the second she rubbed her palm over it.
He tried to remain stoic, knowing it would be wrong to Krissan if he gave in to this sex fiend. However, his lungs, too, were betraying him, as his breathing grew ragged when Sarah carefully trailed the blade of the knife down his lips, down his chin, down his neck, where she paused, then looked up at him and flashed an ‘I got you’ smile.
His cock got even harder.
Shit.
This was bad.
Really bad.
He knew it was bad. Yet he couldn’t control his reactions.
In all seriousness, though, this was Sarah James here. The female version of himself. The seductress of all seductresses. The face you’d see next to the word ‘nymphomaniac’ in the dictionary. Resisting her wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, for any man; even he had to admit that. Especially when she knew every little dangerous thing he liked. Things he was trying not to like because it was insalubrious. Proclivities he’d successfully locked away since Krissan.
Until Sarah James showed her goddamned face.
Moving the knife from his neck, Sarah made one swift swipe and slashed his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Trevillo took a deep breath and glanced down to see if she’d cut him, and sighed in relief when he saw there wasn’t a single scratch.
She was good.
She was also fucking crazy.
“Sarah,” he tried to resist, “I can’t — ahhh … ”
He groaned when she leaned in and bit hard on one nipple while she used the pointed tip of the knife to gently press into the other one. Her tongue swirled around one while the blade pushed into the other as deep as possible without drawing blood.
He wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel amazing.
But it also felt wrong.
Krissan, he thought ruefully.
That lent him enough strength to push her away, and she stumbled back a bit. “Stop fucking touching me, Sarah.”
But in a flash, she rushed back up to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him. He didn’t kiss her back. Her lips weren’t soft or plump or red.
They weren’t Krissan’s.
Though his restraint was tenuous, he pushed her off again. “I said stop!”
“Don’t deny me, Trev, or I’ll slit your fucking face open. I swear it.”
Her threat was made in such a sultry voice, Trevillo wondered if she was serious or not.
Sarah then laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “But then again, you’d just love that, wouldn’t you? You like it dangerous. I could twist this knife in your heart and you’d have an orgasm from dying.” Licking her lips, she moved in closer to whisper, “You twisted fuck.”
She pulled open her blouse and unsnapped the front of her bra so that her savory pink-nipple tits were right there in front him, and Trevillo thought this must be some sort of punishment or something. How was a man supposed to climb his way out of a temptation such as this?
If there was ever an enticement to be deemed as the hardest to resist, it would be an unwilling man being seduced by a bodacious, almost physically perfect woman.
“Touch me, Trev,” she begged.
But he didn’t, because he was only one woman’s fool: Krissan’s.
When she realized he wasn’t going to touch her, and he was keeping his eyes trained on her face instead of her tits, a shade of sadness passed over her face.
“Does she know, Trev? That you like it dangerous?” she asked as she started to sink down to her knees. “I bet not. She’d run.”
He guessed she was referring to Krissan, but he didn’t respond, because he wouldn’t want to utter the wrong words. The bitch had a knife in her hand. And for all he knew, she was some bitter widow wanting blood for her husband’s that was shed.
One could never tell with Sarah James.
True, it was because he had liked it dangerous that he’d ended up screwing her longer than the others. She was good at danger — she was good at every damn thing, to be honest.
Now, the danger felt wrong, bad, unhealthy, and he found he didn’t crave it anymore because …
He’d been fucked by an angel.
Sarah feverishly unzipped him, and before he could stop her, his cock was in her mouth. Trevillo’s hips jolted forward, and his head fell back when she sucked him with that deep suction only Sarah had. He’d never met another woman who sucked his dick as if she was trying to se
parate it from his body. Only Sarah James could do that.
Now that his cock was in her mouth, he knew he was screwed.
Big time.
Sarah dropped the knife and grabbed his thighs with her fingernails as she sucked him hard and fast and greedily. “Does she suck you like this, Trev?”
Trevillo tried not to make a sound as the vibration of her voice traveled through his cock and up his abdomen.
“Can she suck you like this, Trev?”
“Sarah,” he moaned as he gripped the edge of his desk. “You’re insane.”
“That’s because I love you.”
Trevillo’s eyes snapped open. “What the fuck?”
She smiled around his dick. “Yes, baby. You heard right. I love you.”
Before he could speak another syllable, she did that suction thing again, and he felt his orgasm travel up his legs, up his back, and … shit, he was a second away. His fingers twisted in Sarah’s hair as he prepared for the explosion. But Sarah suddenly stopped and shot up to her feet, wrapping her long-nailed fingers around his throat. “You don’t get to hold onto me, Trev. You stand and take it like a man. Got that?”
Trevillo was on the very edge, and if she squeezed her fingers any tighter around his throat, he was going to come. He didn’t want to play this rules and punishment game with her.
So he aggressively reached up, grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. Hard. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, pulling even harder on her hair. “Down.”
Loving that, as he knew she would, she grinned as she released her grip on his throat and started lowering back down to her knees. “Yes, sir.”
In less than a minute, his fingers were curling into her hair again, as the woman who gave the best blow-jobs on the planet sucked him into incoherency. She suctioned him deep into her mouth again, and Trevillo’s body stiffened. This was it …
In that moment, his office door opened, and standing in its frame was Krissan, eyes wide, mouth agape.
One would think by the sight of her there, his orgasm would’ve turned the fuck back. But no, that flow of unwanted pleasure came anyway and shot straight down Sarah’s throat, while the love of his life watched.
The love of his life?, he thought in shock at the realization of what Krissan meant to him.
She was the love of his life?
Yes, his thoughts continued, Krissan Kingston was the love of his life.
This realization came to him even as his cock was in another woman’s mouth, and his body was spastic with an orgasm that wouldn’t fucking end. The shit just kept rolling on and on and fucking on. MotherFuck! This has got be some sort of retribution. Might have been the longest orgasm he’d ever had. Or maybe it was the severity of the situation he didn’t want to face, but there he was.
“Oh God, I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Nelson,” Krissan mumbled, then quickly backed out of his office and closed the door behind her.
Mr. Nelson?
He was screwed.
Sarah didn’t seem to care she’d been caught guzzling down his sperm. She was still there on her knees, licking him clean, then tucking him back inside his pants. While he stood there immobile, unable to process what just happened. He almost felt like howling.
Trevillo turned his eyes to Sarah, too numb to feel if they were showing anger or calmness. Slowly and quietly, he told her, “Leave … my office. Leave … my building. Leave … my. fucking. life.”
“You’re firing me?” she asked in an incredulous tone.
“Yes,” he distractedly answered, remembering the heartbreaking expression he’d seen on Krissan’s face.
It hurt him so much that he hurt her.
“Because of her?!” she yelled, pointing at the door where his angel’s feather had stood mere minutes ago.
“Yes.”
Really, he wanted this woman to leave before he did something he’d later regret. Like strangle her to fucking death for what just happened.
He wondered for a brief moment how she knew it was Krissan who’d caught them even though her back was turned to the door, but he was too numb to question it.
“You love her.” This wasn’t a question.
At that juncture, he didn’t give a shit how she took his answer. “Yes.”
Sarah pursed her lips and nodded. Then, with calm, steady movements, she redid her bra, redid her blouse, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.
Finding his dead, empty gaze, she held it. “You fucked up my heart, Trev. Best believe I’m gonna return the favor and fuck your heart up, too.” She took a step up to him and all but breathed, “Wait for it.” Then she turned on her heels and walked out the door.
Trevillo was used to pissed-off women threatening him, so he ignored Sarah’s words and breathed a relieved sigh that she was gone.
A sudden headache attacked him, and he dropped his head in his hands at his major fuck-up. In the same minute he discovered the love of his life, he also lost the love of his life.
He’d always known he was hopeless.
Fucking hopeless.
Chapter 24
K. Kingston
Shattered
With firm, unhurried steps, chin lifted, shoulders squared, I walked out of TDR, got into my car, and drove back to Skylark.
Work.
That’s where I was when I was interrupted earlier by a phone call from Milo, telling me Trevillo requested I meet with him in his office urgently.
Even though I thought it odd Trevillo would have Milo phone me instead of phoning me himself, I just focused on the word ‘urgently’, left Skylark at once, and headed straight to TDR. Because, at the end of the day, even with all the earth-shattering orgasms and lavish gifts and sweet words, Trevillo Nelson was still my boss.
Worried he was probably having issues with my work — even though I knew I was unerringly kicking the ass out of this project — I’d gotten there in a jiffy.
Milo had instructed me to go right in because Trevillo was expecting me, and what I saw upon opening his office door sent my heart shattering into a million pieces.
Trev … Sarah James … his dick … his orgasm … the unapologetic look of pleasure on his face … oh Jesus, I couldn’t even fathom …
But I took it like a big girl, pushed my long expected heartbreak aside, and treated the billionaire with the respect he deserved.
Because, at the end of the day, Trevillo Nelson was still my boss.
Milo refused to meet my glare as I backed out of the office, which told me I was set up for that walk-in. I didn’t sweat it, however. I just took it all in stride and left to resume work.
Work I had to get done.
Work I was getting paid a shit load of money to do.
Work I couldn’t — wouldn’t let my emotions affect.
Because, at the end of the day, Trevillo Nelson was still my boss.
For every splintering pain I felt as I tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, I pinched myself. I had no right to feel pain, remorse or heartbreak, because I’d known what I was getting myself into when I decided to make Trevillo an Again.
And then decided to become an apostrophe S.
A girlfriend.
I knew he was a man who could get whoever he wanted, whenever and wherever he wanted, and it was my own imbecility for believing he could remain faithful to me which rendered me heartbroken. He didn’t hurt me; I hurt myself.
I had no right to think I was unique. As if I was better than his other fucks. I was just one more in the line of his female employees he was screwing, and was probably the only one stupid enough to fall for him. I had no right to believe in all the times we’re apart, he was actually ‘traveling for work’.
Laughing to myself, I thought, who the hell was I, anyway? To think I could get that hot, sexy, every-woman’s-fantasy billionaire to fall for me and stay fallen? To think an oversexed fuck-demon like Trevillo Nelson could be satisfied with just me? I was just a shallow five feet one adopted bitch who couldn
’t even turn her face to the heavens and thank God for waking her out of bed in the mornings, even though she was raised by two people who owned one of the biggest ministries in the world.
Who the hell did I think I was?
If my own parents didn’t want me, why would anyone else?
Me: a girl who saw sense only in music. A girl whose heart sang when her eyes cried. A girl who thought life and people were fucking overrated. A girl who just wanted to feel when someone told her, ‘I want you’, ‘I need you’, ‘I love you’.
Many have said it, but I’d never felt it. And I wanted so much to feel it, so that I would know the words could be true. To believe humans aren’t just a clump of lying, untrustworthy assholes who go around saying shit just for the heck of it.
All I wanted to do was feel.
That’s all.
To feel.
I’d been numb for my entire life, and so I tried to find a personality that would work for my world. A vain, materialistic personality. But that didn’t work. Such had only served to teach me that the vanity of this world is the anchor we ignorant humans tie around our ankles and sink our own lives.
Until, I finally started to feel. To fall. To love. To want. To need. To crave. To come alive. To feel free.
Finally.
I was finally getting there. And I was so close. So, so close.
But life is a fucking tease. Always getting your hopes up, dragging you so close to the gold, and just when you think you’ve gotten there, the rug gets pulled right out from under you, twisting hope to despair. Taking it all back. Everything. Because it all was illusion. All fake. All a lie. A tease.
Now I was feeling, yes. But it wasn’t the feeling I wanted. I didn’t ask for pain. I wanted the feel-good emotions. Not the fucked-up ones with my heart imploding every two seconds.
