by Rena Marks
She’s not ready to let go of the fight, though.
“Hmm. Guardian? Even though he bought you, like a rare art piece for sale?”
Confusion colors my voice. “Sale?”
“I saw some paperwork left out of the safe. A hefty settlement exchanged hands to change your name and sign over your mother’s parental rights to Nico. Ten million? An amount that high, there’s no other words for it but the sale of a child.”
I thought back to what we had discussed regarding my mother. He told me he could have had the marriage annulled, but she would save face in a divorce, so he agreed. It would give her pleasure to divorce him for his business rival, who she married instead. Not once did he say the exchange of money was for terminating her parental rights. For a legal adoption, complete with name change.
“Louis?”
The butler steps into the room at the sound of my voice.
“Escort Stephanie from the premises.”
I’m proud of myself. There’s no emotion on my face and there’s no slacking in my posture. I turn and walk away, my heels clicking on the marble floors. There’s no way I’ll allow her to see the hurt in my heart.
My own mother sold me.
* * * * *
“What is wrong, ma petit?” Nico closes the paper he is reading, setting it on the table next to him.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You have not been yourself since I returned home.”
I was quiet during dinner and hoped he would just chalk it up to a mood.
“I’ve been thinking about the past.” I don’t want to tell him anything about Stephanie’s visit, because quite frankly, I don’t need any reason for the two of them to get together, especially not with her plan to “satisfy” his perverse desires. Not that I’m worried. I just don’t want to tempt fate. I’ve been happy lately and all my life, my happiness has been taken from me. I’ve been kicked to the curb by everyone and this time, I’m not risking it.
“What about the past, love?” Though his voice is casual, his eye is sharp. He tugs my arm, hard enough to pull me onto his lap, where he tucks my face to his chest and rests his chin on my head.
“My mom used to make a living off me. I was a model by the time I was three. How did you get her to give up her sole source of income?”
“After our divorce, she had enough money to last her the rest of her life if she desired. She didn’t need to stay working as your mom-ager for your modeling career any longer. And I saw no reason for you to continue to work. I figured let a kid be a kid.”
That wasn’t the answer I was looking for.
“But how is it that she signed me over to you?”
I feel the deep breath he takes, as his chest swells under my cheek.
“Why are you worried about this, ma petit?”
“I want to know.”
“And I wish to not cause you pain.”
“Sometimes we have to have the ugly so we can see the beauty. We need to feel pain so we know when we are well.”
“You were part of the package arrangement. I agreed to allow her the divorce filing instead of annulling our sham of a marriage. I agreed to give her ten million dollars.”
“Why? You could have annulled the marriage and she’d have gotten nothing.”
“But then I wouldn’t have you.”
“You bought me.” My voice is flat.
“Yes,” he agrees, surprising me.
I look up at him and his palm reaches out to cup my cheek.
“I bought you lock, stock, and barrel. And I would have paid much, much more than that for you. My sweet angel. I would have given every cent I had. But she didn’t know that, or she might have held out. Those first few days when she left, you were like a frail bird, barely picking at your food. At night you would silently cry. I carried you onto the balcony on those nights, sitting with you outside under the stars…on the very balcony your mother threatened to push you from. As you learned to sleep without her in your life, I was happy for you and sad for me. Because you no longer needed me to hold you through the terrifying first nights.”
Suddenly it didn’t matter that he bought me. That my mother sold me for ten million dollars. All that mattered is that he was there to hold me. And that he cared enough to buy me.
“I love you,” I say, tears spilling down my cheeks. His lips crash down on mine, despite the salty wetness, and the need between us ignites into flames.
It isn’t until well into the night that I wake in his arms and realize he never said it back. But then he holds me…and I’m okay as he lulls me back to sleep. The words can wait.
Chapter Eight
Nico went down to our gym to work out with his trainer early the next morning. He re-enters our bedroom afterward, sweaty and delicious.
“I forgot something at the office last night, ma petit,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my throat. “Do you wish to come with me?”
“I do.”
He drops a kiss on my lips as he heads to the shower, and I prepare for the visit to his office by removing the underwear underneath my clothing.
It is a short ride in the limo, with my fingers clasped loosely in Nico’s. His thumb rubs the top of my hand and I can’t help but notice how his gaze drops to my breasts.
We walk into the building and everyone scurries.
“Monsieur Barreau.” The receptionist acknowledges. “Good morning, Felicia. You look beautiful, as always.”
“Thank you, Lucy.” I smile at her, and it is genuine. I have always liked Lucille.
We head into his huge office and he shuts the door, heading to his desk. I walk over to the window seat. It was my favorite place as a child. I’d curl up in the seat and stare at the tiny moving dots below, pretending they were ants. This time I sit in the seat with my back to the reinforced glass.
“Found it,” Nico says as he places the packet of papers into a folder and then into his briefcase.
He turns to me, his gaze quizzical. “Your favorite spot.”
“Yes. I could watch you from here.”
“But you did not. Instead you watched the ants on the sidewalk.” He mimics my younger voice.
“Yes. I’d watch them scurry about their business and I knew someday I’d be as big as you. Possibly bigger.” I smiled sardonically at my childhood dreams. “Then I would turn and see you at your desk, on your phone, so much larger than the ant people, and I felt secure. Safe.”
“I will always keep you safe, ma petit. So that is why you would stare at me? I was larger than the ant people?”
I laugh softly. “And even back then, I knew I would grow to find you incredible. Irresistible.”
“Do you, sweetling? Find me irresistible?”
“Irresistible. Sexy. Powerful. Masterful.”
His dark eyes begin to gleam.
“You are still the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.”
“Am I?” My voice is casual as I hoist a foot up onto the seat and drape my arm around my knee.
“Exceptionally. You are perfection, ma petit. And you fit me perfectly.”
Casually I let my skirt slither up my thigh, giving him a glimpse of my pussy.
His eyes are glued to the sight.
“I thought I was lucky that you wore that silk blouse without a bra. The sight of your nipples protruding through the fabric is tantalizing. But I had no idea you were so naughty beneath the skirt.”
Nico begins to loosen his tie, rocking his head from side to side as if his neck is tense. From the front of his pants, there is a tenseness starting, but it’s not in his neck.
“This little silk blouse?” I unbutton it and let the peach fabric fall apart. It still covers my breasts, but there’s a visual line straight down my body.
“Are you wet?” he asks.
“All day I’ve been wet, Nico. Am I around you?”
The tie comes off.
“I am not taking care of you properly, little one. I know what you need.”
He unbuckles his belt.
“Yes. Please remedy that, Nico.” My voice is soft as he approaches.
One touch of his finger parts my folds and I lean my head back against the cool, slick glass and moan at the exquisite touch. He lights me on fire and brings me heaven at the same time. His touch gathers slickness and he circles it round and round my clitoris. My clit hardens; I can feel it poking stiff against his finger.
“I love that you want me instantly,” he murmurs.
I use one hand to bunch my skirt up around my waist, and the other to release his burgeoning cock from his pants. It’s warm and throbbing, bulging veins traced along his length. The head is purple and seeping with need.
“I love you. I love this.” I bend down and touch my tongue to the sweet wetness and his breath hisses.
“Oui, mon amour. Juste comme ca.”
He likes my mouth on him. I engulf the head within my mouth, sucking gently on the rim of skin that separates the head from the shaft.
“Tu est parfait.”
He seems to be incapable of separating his languages, which is sexy and empowering that I can reduce him to this. His flesh is wet from my mouth as I have my way with him, and his low groans ratchet my needs higher. My nipples are sensitive hard rocks, rubbing against the cool silk that covers them. Nico reaches down and pushes the blouse from my shoulders. The silk falls in a swish behind me, leaving me bareback against the glass, though I am not touching it yet.
“Bit of a voyeur?” I ask around the musky flavor of his cock.
“I will kill anyone who sees you like this. You are mine, Felicia. Never forget it.” I guess it’s a good thing the people-ants are too little to watch.
“Much as I want this, I must ask you to stop, sweetling. I need your other lips around my cock right now.”
“Mmm,” I agree. “You’ll let me finish this later?”
His hand caresses the back of my head. “Whenever you wish.”
I love the taste of his cock, but I release him and lean back against the window. The glass is cool against my flesh. Both of my heels come up onto the seat, bent at the knees. My pussy is open and exposed.
“You are so wanton. So beautiful.” He lines up his cock with my entrance, and it gives me a hidden thrill to see his hand wrapped around his shaft. He enters me on one swift thrust and we moan together at the instant gratification.
“Nico. Take me, my love.”
He sucks on my neck as he sets a twisting rhythm instead of a thrust. It’s a turn on to know that someone could walk into his office and see his beautiful, muscular ass working me. His hands are spread wide on the glass as he’s fucking me and I can see his biceps quiver under the white fabric of his dress shirt. He’ll leave handprints on the window.
“Play with your nipples, Felicia.” His deep voice is smooth as chocolate and washes over me.
“I love your lips on my nipples. Your tongue.” I tug the points of my breasts, aware he’s looking down. The tension on his face shows his terse control.
“Felicia…”
I squeeze his cock with my inner walls. Hard. I release him, and squeeze again, rhythmically.
“Fuck,” he growls and begins coming. The heat of his ejaculation fills me and I snake my hand down to scissor my clit. Just a couple of strokes makes me orgasm around his thick, meaty girth.
He lowers his forehead to mine. “Naughty girl. Do not make me come before you. You are always to take pleasure first.”
“Perhaps you should learn to control yourself, monsieur,” I whisper cheekily, and kiss his lips.
His face is filled with love—even though he can’t see it. Even though he can’t say it.
We use tissues from a box to clean ourselves, whispering between us. I start giggling when I realize we’re whispering now…but we weren’t whispering when we were climaxing. No, Nico’s shout was quite loud. He laughs with me and dumps the handfuls of tissues into the wastebasket as I button my blouse. He begins to re-tie his tie and I dig the dirty tissues from the trash and shove them into his briefcase instead.
“Felicia.”
“No way, baby. I’m not leaving cum-filled tissues in your wastebasket. Everyone will know what we were doing.”
“They will know anyway, mon amour,” he says arrogantly, and tosses an arm around my neck, pulling me to him to deposit a kiss on the top of my head.
There’s a warm feeling in my belly as we leave the building. Prim, rigid Nico Barreau shows our status for all to see.
Chapter Nine
I should have known the bliss wouldn't last.
Nico introduces me to sex…but then his lust wanders. After all, it isn’t really love, not on his end. It was never love because Nico could not manage to say it back. He called me endearments, his love, more than once. But he never gave me the words. I love you. Is it really so difficult?
Jordan is happy, working his way up in the restaurant. He has a new purpose in life and when I ask him if he’s heard from Stephanie, he assures me he hasn’t.
I push her to the back of my mind—reminding myself that one encounter with her caused a lot of wounds to re-open. I hadn’t any doubts about Nico before she planted the seeds.
Even if the man is incapable of love, it doesn’t mean I am. I can love us enough for him. I make the decision to put my disappointment behind me and then dress with care. He has another business trip to Spain approaching so I want to surprise him in his business office before he leaves tomorrow.
The receptionist, Lucy, nods at me to go through as she continues talking into the expensive headset she wears. I walk down the hallway to the largest office. When I open the door, it’s to find more than Nico.
Stephanie.
She’s leaning over his desk, the tits he paid for in his face.
I slam the door. It doesn’t matter whether they’ve seen me or not, because I’m sure Lucy will inform him of just who was in.
I head home to pack my bag. This time I don't even care that I have nowhere to go, because a month of sexual exploration with Nico has taught me the value of me. I will start over wherever I go and I will be just fine.
“Miss Barreau?” asks the maid who I’d informed I was going to the airport. I’d also told her to let Mr. Barreau know I was leaving.
I look up from my packing. “Yes?”
“A message from Monsieur Barreau. He will be here shortly to pick you up. Please wait in the foyer.”
I frown. He is probably ready to tell me his plans to return to Stephanie. I never suspected he'd be that foolish. But it is all right. I will be waiting for Nico in the foyer with my packed bag. He is welcome to take me to the airport.
When he enters the foyer, he is beyond handsome—so commanding and sexy. He turns his smoldering gaze to me and never breaks contact as I slowly approach.
Bulging muscles ripple through the material of his shirt when he finally moves toward me. Stopping before me, he leans in with a kiss to my cheek. The kiss doesn’t linger as it normally would. It is more perfunctory than anything else.
That can’t be a good thing. It verifies the thoughts I warred with earlier. The knot winds tighter in my belly. Apparently, I was right. He is getting ready to tell me of his renewed relationship with Stephanie.
Again, I am the one easily discarded. Perhaps he thinks he can mollify me by passing me back to Jordan. I’d rather live as a spinster.
Nico takes my bag and escorts me to his waiting car, one hand at my elbow.
He obviously isn’t talking to me. After seating me, he ignores my thank you and closes the door firmly.
We drive in silence before I realize we aren’t heading to the airport where he knew I was to catch a flight. “Where are we going?”
“I think you and I need some time alone.”
Additional miles drift by and I grow impatient with his continued silence.
“Where are we driving?” I ask again when we head past another turn-off.
“Somewhere where we can be alone.” His
voice is short and his tone clipped as he stares directly ahead, keeping his eye on the road.
We are past the house, but still on the property. A little caretaker’s cottage, vacant for the moment, is apparently where we are headed. The silver convertible squeals to a stop, and I open my own car door. Suddenly, Nico appears, taking my arm again like a prisoner. He leads me to the front door and unlocks it, tossing the keys onto a table before he strides to the mini-bar, leaving me standing awkwardly. He pours two glasses of wine and hands one to me.
I take a sip. To hell with it. I swallow a bigger gulp.
Nico watches, a brooding expression over his gorgeous face before he finally speaks.
“I am not sleeping with Stephanie.”
“You weren’t protesting her breasts in your face. More than that, you were enjoying it.” My tone is accusatory. The thought of another woman’s breasts in his face makes me want to rip her hair out. The thought of Nico wanting them causes bile to rise to the back of my throat.
“I’m a man. And like I said, they are as familiar to me as yours.”
“So you aren’t sleeping with her, but you’ll enjoy her breasts after a tough day at work?”
He sighed. “No, of course not. I was just about to refuse her when you entered.” He clenches his fists and then tosses back his own glass of wine. “What do you want from me, Felicia?”
“What do you mean?”
Frustrated, he takes a step closer to me, carelessly tossing his empty glass away. It shatters when it hits the sink.
“I’ve told you I’m not sleeping with her. What else do you want?”
I carefully step back, placing some distance between us. “Like a man, you’ve totally missed the point. The point isn’t that you weren’t going to sleep with her. It’s that you were in the midst of enjoying her.”
“I was not enjoying her,” he growls. “I said she was familiar to me. It does not mean I crave her.”
But I know his track record. I remember well the endless stream of women who enjoyed the pleasures of his sex-room. I can't take anymore.
