“That’s the bestest job ever!” beamed Ben.
“Which one, my dear?” asked Ari’s mother.
For a second, I didn’t remember. The hot, pulsating sensation between my legs was taking up all of my concentration. Yikes!
“Ike’s Tikes,” I finally stammered.
“That’s so cool!” exclaimed Ben. “I’ve got lots of those little beanbag thingies. Wanna come see my collection?”
Ari looked my way again, his beautiful face a total poker face. “Sarah will come as soon as dinner is over.”
“I’d love to!” I gulped.
Holy shit! I might not last that long. Slathered with my wet heat, his big toe rammed into my pussy. Once inside, he jabbed it in and out. The pressure was building. My heart was racing and my temperature rising. I was falling apart, my pussy begging, desperate for release.
Ari, the madman, was enjoying every minute of his ministrations as I began to unravel. I couldn’t take it anymore. Waves of ecstasy started to crest through my core. Oh my God. I was going to have an orgasm right here in front of Ari’s mother, sister, and son! Oh please, not here…Oh please, yes now!
I was so close. Just as I thought I would scream out in divine pleasure and create a scene I’d regret forever, Luisa entered the room with the candlelit birthday cake. Everyone shouted “Happy Birthday,” including happy, happy me.
As Ben made a secret wish and blew out the candles, my wish came true. Sweet spasms coursed through me, zapping every cell in my body. The flames on the candles might be extinguished, but I was on fire.
“I hope everyone enjoyed dinner,” said Ari as Luisa sliced a piece a cake for everyone.
He withdrew his toe and shot me a playful glance. I tried to keep my cool as he stuffed himself with a mouthful of the cake and then sensuously licked the creamy icing off his fork with his tongue.
Unable to form words, I gulped down a big bite of the cake. Gwen shot me a dirty look. The intensity of the fire raging in my body was equal to that of the iciness coating her eyes. Damn him! Damn her!
Shortly after the cake was served, Ari’s sister and mother dismissed themselves from the table to call it a night. While Ari’s mother gave me a warm embrace and said she hoped to see me again, Gwen left with a cold goodbye. The chill in her eyes told me that she had not warmed up to me one bit. The feeling was mutual. Not only did I dislike her, I distrusted her, and the less time I had to spend with her the better.
“Do you wanna come see my playroom now?” asked Ben as I, too, was about to say goodnight. Before I could utter a word, he clutched my hand and led me down the long foyer. Ari trailed close behind us. I could feel his eyes on me and imagine the satisfied smirk on his face. I was still experiencing intense tremors from my orgasm, and I bet he knew it.
The huge paneled room, located at the end of the hallway, was lined with built-in shelves filled with toys. I recognized them all—from Moshi Monsters to Transformers. On a wall facing a plumped-up slipcovered couch was the biggest flat screen television I’d ever seen. It must have been close to five-feet long. Bringing my attention back to the toy-lined shelves, Ben proudly showed me his sizeable collection of Ike’s Tikes. He must have owned every one of the collectible little beanbag characters. And then my eyes landed on a toy that brought a smile to my face—a Green Power Ranger. For sure, the original one from the 1990s. I had loved the Power Rangers growing up, and my favorite had been Tommy, the Green Ranger, because he was somewhat of an outsider like me. I’d actually had a secret crush on him.
“Wow! Where’d you get the Green Ranger?” I asked Ben.
“It was Daddy’s when he was growing up.”
Ari gazed at me sheepishly, looking almost embarrassed that he had once played with Power Rangers. Now, I suppose he only played with power. And clits.
“My father bought it for me,” he said, flushing. “The Green was my favorite because I was really into the martial arts. I still practice.”
So Ari, the warrior god, was also a martial artist. Fitting.
“Grandpa’s name was Benjamin like mine,” interjected Ben. “That’s a photo of him,” he added, pointing to a framed photo on an end table.
My eyes shifted to the photograph of a handsome dark-haired man who had his arm wrapped around an angelic golden-haired boy. The child looked to be the same age as Ben and bore a striking resemblance. Of course, Ari and his father. I could detect the loving bond between them, further evidenced by the fact that Ari had named his son after him.
“Do you want to play Pac-Man with me?” asked Ben, plopping down on the couch and grabbing a remote.
“Ben,” chided Ari, “I don’t think—”
I cut him off. “Sure. You first.”
Ben loaded the game onto the big screen TV and began clicking the remote with his thumbs. Both Ari and I kept our eyes riveted on the screen as he managed to get to level three, scoring 1235 points.
“Okay, your turn.” Beaming with pride, the little boy handed me the remote. Ari fired me a bemused look. Like I was out of my mind.
“Good luck, Saarah,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Thanks,” I said brightly. Ha ha. Just wait.
Without wasting a second, I plunked down on the comfy couch and began feverishly pressing the remote with my thumbs. My eyes stayed glued to the cute little yellow open-mouthed face gobbling up pellets and striving to eat enemies before they ate me. In high school, no one could beat me at Pac-Man. Or at RISD. It had been a while since I’d played, but I hadn’t lost my touch. Ten minutes later, I was at level five with 5020 points.
“Wow!” exclaimed Ben. “You’re awesome.”
Ari’s brows lifted with shock and then a smirk slid on his kissable lips. “Saarah, you are surprisingly good at manipulating things with your hands.”
The innuendo (and boy, was he full of them tonight) made my cheeks heat and my skin prickle. And not just on the back of my neck.
“Let’s play again,” begged Ben.
A familiar voice stopped me from answering. “It eez bedtime for Señor Ben.”
Standing at the entrance to the room was Luisa, her arms folded under her buxom chest. A warm smile spread across her bright-eyed face.
Ben frowned. His father gave him a signal to get up, tilting his chin toward the foyer.
“No fair,” he sulked.
The cutie-pie reluctantly rose from the couch, leaving the remote behind, and shuffled over to Luisa. She wrapped an ample arm around the child’s slender shoulders.
“Luisa, I’ll be there in a minute to tuck him in and read him a good-night story,” said my companion.
I was impressed by what a devoted father he was. A pang of sadness stabbed me. That was something I had never had in my life.
The adorable little boy gazed up at me and then unexpectedly broke away from Luisa to give me a hug. The warmth of his little arms wrapped around my waist radiated throughout me. My heart melted.
“Thanks, Sarah, for my cool train. Can you come over and play Pac-Man with me again?”
I fired an uncertain look at Ari. The impassive expression on his face was unreadable. “Maybe,” he said. My heart quivered, not knowing what that meant.
After wishing us “buenas noches,” Luisa shepherded Ben out of the room, leaving me alone with Ari. Despite the mixed messages this devastating man was giving me, I didn’t want this evening to end. I wanted to be in his arms and make delicious love with him in his bed. Don’t go there, Sarah. I was hit hard with the realization that it was time for me to leave. That I would not be spending the night. His house, his rules.
“I should say goodnight.” My voice wavered.
“Wait for me here. I’ll be right back.” He abandoned me but returned quickly holding a small shopping bag. “Yours,” he said softly, handing me the bag.
With just a glance, I knew what was inside. I took out the Jimmy Choo box and lifted the lid. Inside were the black satin peep-toe stilettos. I was on the verge of cryin
g.
“Thanks.” My voice was watery.
He tilted up my chin with his thumb as I fought back tears. “I thought you might like to have them back. You’re quite a Cinderella.”
In some way, at this moment, I felt like Cinderella. A clock gonged in my head. It was time to leave. That was the deal. His next line confirmed it.
“I’ll walk you to the elevator.”
Planting his hand on the small of my back, he ushered me out of the room and walked by my side as we traversed the long foyer. There was no more physical contact, not even the holding of a hand. Maybe, “maybe” really meant maybe. Or never. I had to remember that this man was afraid of a relationship. Afraid of commitment. I had to accept that. It just wasn’t as easy as I thought.
Ari pushed the button by the elevator and the door immediately slid open. To my shock, he shoved me into the carriage, straight into the corner. As the door closed, he pinned me against the upholstery with his hip and crushed his lips onto mine. The kiss was fierce, all-consuming, and passionate. As the elevator descended, a fire re-ignited in my core and coursed through my body. Oh what a kisser this gorgeous god was!
When the door reopened, he pulled his lips off mine. I was breathing heavily, and my legs were trembling.
“Thank you for coming tonight,” he said, leaning his body against the door to hold it open.
“Sure,” I said breathlessly.
“Andre is waiting for you outside to take you home.”
My heart clenched. Reality. I was going home.
As I stepped out into the lobby, he placed his strong hands on my shoulders, holding me back. He spun me around to face him. My skin tingled from his touch as his warm breath skimmed my cheeks.
“Goodnight, Saarah.”
My gaze held his as if we would never see each other again. I held back the tears that were threatening to fall.
“Goodnight,” I said softly.
Forcing myself to not look back, I headed toward the entrance of 1001 Park Avenue. I heard the elevator door close behind me. My heart sank. He didn’t ask me out. Or even ask me to meet him for a coffee or a run. Clutching the bag with my shoes, I stepped into the foggy New York night, unsure if any form of “we” was meant to be.
CHAPTER 13
Ari
“Goodnight comb.”
“And goodnight brush.”
“Goodnight nobody.”
“Goodnight…”
Waiting for Ben to shout out “mush,” the next word of his favorite book, one of our bedtime rituals, I realized he was sound asleep. A small smile spread on my lips. I stared at my beautiful little boy, feeling so blessed to have him in my life. A shudder ran through me at the thought that I had almost lost him—on more than one occasion. Yes, that hellish night, but that wasn’t the first time. There was the incident right before that one as well as another in the Hamptons. And I almost lost him right from the onset. Eight months into her pregnancy, fucking Cassandra, who was high on something, fell down the stairs of our Upper East Side duplex and had to be rushed to the hospital. In the ambulance, she went into premature labor, requiring an emergency C-section to be performed. After two hours of surgery, Ben was born at a mere four pounds with a life or death condition known as PDA (patent ductus arteriosus)—an opening between two major blood vessels leading to his heart which could result in heart failure. While Cassandra recovered quickly from the fall and the surgery—at least physically—poor Ben, who almost didn’t make it, had to remain in the hospital for two months on ventilators and IVs until the heart defect closed—that is, if it closed up. Every morning and night, I visited my tiny, brave boy and prayed for him to get well. The bitch, on the other hand, didn’t visit him once, and spent her days in bed, strung out on a cocktail of vodka and Valium, with an endless pile of fashion magazines that featured her on the cover or in spreads inside. As little Ben’s heart defect healed, after a couple life-threatening setbacks, mine began to fall apart. I went into a state of denial—thinking that this nightmare would go away. That once Ben got better, Cassandra would come out of her depression and we’d be that family that fairy tales were made of. But that never happened. Cassandra fell deeper into her depression and wanted nothing to do with our son. As my love for him never wavered and grew every day, I began to wonder—had she deliberately fallen down the stairs in an attempt to end our unborn baby’s life?
To this day, I didn’t know the answer to that disquieting question. But what I did know was I couldn’t live without Ben. He was a miracle baby, the gift of life, and the only bright light in my years of darkness with Cassandra. Knowing what he’d been through, each birthday was more special to me than the one before. Loving him with all my heart and soul, I gave my precious son a kiss on his forehead and, then after putting the book on his nightstand, headed to my bedroom to call it a night.
I did a little bit of last minute packing for tomorrow’s trip, performed my normal bedtime routine, and then got into my pajama bottoms. While I used to love to go to sleep in the raw, I no longer did that in case Ben woke up in the middle of the night with a nightmare. I couldn’t waste a second getting to my son whenever that happened. Checking the two-way monitor on my night table, which would let me know if he was having one, I crawled into my king-size bed and hoped there wouldn’t be a repeat of last night. While he was having his nightmares less and less frequently, they were never easier to deal with. And I sure didn’t want him to end his perfect birthday with one.
Both my mind and body were restless. While darkness bathed me, the uncanny events of the day whirled around in my head. Sarah’s presence at Ben’s birthday dinner had made me forget about Cassandra, who had wreaked havoc on my mind all afternoon after Lisa had mentioned her name. While toe-fucking Sarah, I had banished the thought of my ex being back in town. It was impossible. Thanks to my sister, the lawyer, we had a heavy-duty agreement that forbid her from ever setting foot in New York again or for returning to this country for that matter. My worries subsided as thoughts of Sarah filled my mind, and I became aware of my raging boner beneath the covers.
Sarah totally turned me on. The more time I spent with her, the more I liked her. And the more amazing I found her. I was impressed by the way she wasn’t intimidated by my snide, in-your-face sister, who I wanted to smack a couple times, and was blown away by the way she kept her cool while I made her come under the table. Most of all, I was astounded by how well she and Ben connected. My little boy seemed to take a strong liking to her and vice versa, and this more than anything turned me on the most.
I can’t begin to tell you how hard it was (no pun intended) for me not to ravage her in the elevator. While I fucked her luscious mouth with my tongue, all I could think about was fucking my Cinderella up against the wall. Hoisting up that pretty dress of hers and ramming my dick right into her delicious pussy. Banging her until she saw stars and I don’t mean the ones in the sky. With the way she submitted to me, I thought she wanted it too. Damn, a missed opportunity—something that, as a shrewd businessman, drove me crazy. The sublime taste and scent of her invaded my senses as I slipped my hand under my pajama bottoms and curled my fingers around my enormous aching erection. I needed relief if I expected to get any sleep. Imagining one of her exquisite talented hands wrapped around the girth, I closed my eyes and began to jerk myself off, fantasizing that her luscious mouth was sucking me off in tandem. My breathing grew ragged as I stroked myself faster, more furiously and imagined what it would be like to come in her mouth. Within a few minutes, I exploded with a loud grunt, my release spreading all over my hand. I kept my hand there as my breathing calmed down.
I snapped open my eyes and reached my free hand across the firm mattress. For the first time ever, I felt lonely in this big empty bed. An unexpected sadness and longing swept over me. I wanted Sarah’s soft body in my arms. But was I ready? Was I capable of feeling again?
This weekend I was going to find out.
I was tired of saying, “Goodnight, nob
ody.”
CHAPTER 14
Sarah
I woke up the next morning with Jo-Jo and reality in my face. I didn’t sleep well. My evening with Ari plagued me, and I had a nightmare in which I was Dorothy and his sister was the Wicked Witch of the West. “I’ll get you and your little pussy Jo-Jo,” she cackled, her evil laugh still echoing in my ears.
As I stumbled out of bed, doubt wracked my brain. I had no clue if I’d see Ari again, or after last night, he’d want to see me. I had to remember this was a man who was fucked up. He had not been in a serious relationship since he’d left his wife, and commitment—okay, date—was a four-letter word.
Heading into the bathroom to complete my morning routine, I decided today was as good a day as any to start looking for a second job to help pay for my mother’s treatments. My plan was to scour the local restaurants to see if I could get an evening or weekend job as a waitress or hostess. The good news was that I had done both before to help pay my RISD expenses. I was an exemplary employee—punctual, hard-working, personable, and courteous—and could expect glowing recommendations from my former employers. Later, I would call my mom, and hopefully, we could share some good news.
Dressed in a mid-length paisley skirt, a lightweight sweater, and my beloved combat boots, I grabbed my bag and trotted down the stairs, passing Mrs. Blumberg, who was already carrying two shopping bags full of groceries.
“So, how was your date the other night?” she asked, always the nosy busybody.
“Very nice,” I replied with a quick smile. Wishing her a good day, I skipped down the stairs, pondering my response. Very nice… but…
Upon opening the front door to the building, sunlight assaulted my eyes. Squinting, I recalled that for New Yorkers, today was the second day of the three-day Memorial Day weekend. Unlike your typical Sunday, the city streets were empty. Families and singletons, like me, had already escaped the rushed, stressful life of the Big Apple by heading to more restful destinations like the Hamptons. Like Lauren and her fiancé Taylor. All their friends owned or rented second homes in these exclusive oceanfront communities along Long Island’s South Fork. Except me, who couldn’t afford to do either. And truthfully, I had better things to do than sun on the beach.
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