by JA Huss
I scream from the pain, and all Nolan hears is the pleasure of my orgasm. Because he breathes hard in my ear, saying, “Yes, yes, yes,” over and over again. And then he stops. “My turn, Ivy. My way now.”
He rolls us over, his crushing weight pushing me into the bed, but all I’m thinking about is the relief of not having him pounding his dick into me.
A second later I’m face down on the mattress, his chest pushing hard against my back. His mouth on the back of my neck. “Now you’ll see how I do it. None of that soft shit, Ivy. I like it hard. And when I’m done, you’ll like it hard too.”
He grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. just the way he told me he would.
He pulls hard, making me look up at the ceiling. I concentrate on it as he thrusts his dick back into my pussy.
I scream again, the pain shooting through my body.
“Fuck, yes,” Nolan says, his face hovering over mine now. Hiding the view of the ceiling. “Scream, Ivy. I like the way you scream.”
He fucks me.
Hard. And when he’s ready, he pulls out, rips the condom off, flips me over, and says, “Open your fucking mouth.”
I do it automatically. Like I’m under some kind of spell. And then he comes all over my face, my tongue, my hair.
And when he’s done, he collapses on top of me, rolls to the side when I grunt and try to escape, and wraps his arms around me. “We’re going to do this again. Later, when I’m not so sleepy and content.”
I cry into my pillow, sticky and wet from his come. I wipe as much of it as I can on the pillowcase and then just lie still as the hours tick off. I don’t fall asleep until there’s a crack of light coming through the closed blinds.
I feel like I just barely closed my eyes when Nolan gets up and walks into the bathroom. I roll over and watch him disappear inside, then scoot over on to the other side of the bed so he won’t get any funny ideas about fucking me again when he comes back. I pretend to sleep. I squeeze my eyes closed and start breathing heavy. Faking it.
He returns a few minutes later, but he doesn’t join me in bed. I feel a wave of relief. I can’t fuck him again. Ever. He’s too much. Way too much. That hurt so bad last night. It wiped away all the stuff I loved. I will never have sex again, I know it. My vagina is permanently damaged.
“What the fuck, Ivy?” Nolan asks, annoyed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were on your period? I would’ve put a towel down.”
“I’m not—” I stop. Because I realize what’s on the bed. Blood. Evidence of my lie.
But before I can say anything else, someone is pounding on his door.
“Nolan!” Claudette’s voice booms from outside. “Open this fucking door, right now!”
Chapter Seventeen - Nolan
“I thought you said your sister was out of town?”
I just stare at Ivy, ignoring my sister’s tantrum. “What do you mean you’re not on your period? Then why were you bleeding last night?” It’s not a lot of blood, but it’s definitely blood.
“Nolan,” Ivy says. “I can explain.”
“Explain what?”
Claudette is still pounding on the front door to the room. In fact, she might be kicking it.
“I just…”
“Wait,” I say, putting the pieces together. “No. It’s not possible. You’re… you were a virgin? Jesus Christ, Ivy! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
She jumps up from the bed as I pull on some shorts. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I look around for her clothes, realize she came here in a bathing suit, and then fish through my drawers until I come up with a shorts and t-shirt for her too. “Put these on,” I say, throwing them at her.
“Why are you mad?”
I grab my hair to think this through as I pace the room. Claudette is still throwing her fit. “I took your virginity?”
Ivy pulls the shorts up and then hastily drags the t-shirt over her head. “Why are you mad about it?”
“Why didn’t you say something? Holy shit. I fucked you hard, Ivy. You can’t tell me that it felt good!”
“Some of it did.”
“Some of it?” I just shake my head at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” When she says nothing I get angry. “Ivy Rockwell, I need that fucking answer. Now.”
“Because you might not have wanted to.”
“Is this the reason you came here? To trick me into taking your virginity?”
“You’re the one who invited me here!” she yells. “You came on to me!”
I need to calm down. I need a deep breath and about ten minutes to think about this, and I can’t fucking do that with my goddamned sister screaming outside.
“I didn’t trick you, Nolan,” Ivy says.
“But you didn’t tell me, either. Why not? And don’t say because I might have put a stop to it. That’s fucking lame. It’s my right not to fuck you, isn’t it? So what you did, Ivy, was fucking dishonest. Do you have any idea how bad this looks from my point of view?”
“Nolan, look—”
But before Ivy can finish, Claudette comes barging in, having apparently given up hope that I will answer the door and used her master key. “Get away from him, Ivy.”
“Jesus Christ. I’m not dangerous, Claudette. She doesn’t need your protection. Believe me, she’s got her secrets too.”
“That’s why I’m here, Nolan. She certainly does have her secrets. Did you know she lied on her résumé?”
“I did not lie!” Ivy yells.
“Are you trying to tell me that you actually did graduate Brown with an MBA, Ivy? Because I’ve already checked, honey. You’re as fake as that blonde hair you have.”
“I don’t dye my hair!”
“Enough!” I say. “Enough. Now what the fuck is going on here?”
“That résumé she sent us is a lie!” Claudette yells.
“I didn’t send you people a résumé! You came knocking on my door!” Ivy’s face is red and she’s breathing hard, clutching the t-shirt at her chest like she needs something to hold onto.
I took her virginity. I made her give me a blow job. I flipped her over and fucked her hard. I thought she was screaming out of pleasure, but it was fake. It was all a lie.
I hold absolutely still. And in that moment, everything goes still. Ivy goes still. Claudette goes still. And there are about three seconds of complete silence before I look at Ivy.
“You lied to me.”
“Nolan,” she says, taking a step towards me.
“Stop,” I say. “And answer my question. Did you graduate Brown with an MBA?”
She shakes her head, her face nothing but a frown.
I glance at Claudette and find a satisfied look on her face, her arms crossed over her chest, her chin tipped up in smugness, like she’s so very proud that she caught Ivy in this lie. And she doesn’t even know about the other lie yet.
Two lies. Two. I don’t put up with lies. Not even one lie. So the fact that Ivy Rockwell tricked me into taking her virginity and lied on her résumé… well, I can’t.
“I think you need to leave, Ivy. It was nice meeting you.”
Ivy sighs, then nods her head, walks across the bungalow, and out the door.
I look back at Claudette.
“I knew there was something weird about her, Nolan. I told her to stay away from you.”
“Yeah,” I say, angry with her too. “You told her I was dangerous. Just what the fuck, Claudette? Why the hell would you say something like that?”
“I’m not the bad guy here, Nolan. I told her to stay away from you for your protection. And it’s clear I was right. She was lying to get close to you, don’t you see it?”
I can see it, that’s the part I hate so much. Ivy wanted me for something, but she didn’t want me.
She wanted to tell her friends that she tricked the infamous Mr. Romantic into taking her virginity. She wanted me to believe she was something she’s not. She played with m
e, from the moment she stepped off the jet, right up until the moment she left my room.
I fucked her.
I can’t even think about what it felt like for her last night. I can’t even think about how she will probably twist this story. I can’t even think about seeing my face on the news again.
I don’t fuck virgins for a reason. I don’t want to be careful and I don’t want to be someone’s trophy. I don’t want to be a story that gets told over and over.
“You slept with her,” Claudette says. “Didn’t you?”
I nod, but I don’t look at her. I just go back to my bed and start ripping off the sheets before Claudette—
“Is that blood?”
Fuck.
“Nolan, please tell me you didn’t get rough with her. We don’t need any more shame brought on our family name because of you.”
“Of course not,” I snarl. And I didn’t. It was definitely rough by virgin standards, but I’m not someone who likes sexual blood play. “And fuck you for even thinking that.”
“Then why are you changing the sheets? Why is there blood—Oh, good God. She wasn’t a virgin. Was she?”
“Yup,” I say. “She was. But she isn’t now.”
“I cannot believe that sneaky little bitch.”
I sigh. Because I can’t either. I never saw it coming. I saw exactly what she wanted me to see. An innocent college grad looking for her first big opportunity.
Well, she got more out of this than I did, that’s for sure. So even if she’s not the business-school prodigy I thought she was, she’s damn cunning. She got me.
“I’m calling the pilot right now,” Claudette says. “She’s out of here. Xavier,” Claudette says into her phone. “I need the jet fueled and ready to take Miss Rockwell back to Rhode Island immediately.”
“That’s probably the best idea,” I say, balling up the sheets and tossing them into the corner for the maids to take care of. I sit back down on the mattress and hang my head in my hands, scrubbing them up and down my face for a few seconds.
I’m disappointed.
I’m really fucking disappointed. How could I have been so blind? How could I not have noticed the way she was writhing when I flipped her over and started fucking her from behind? How could I not have seen this coming?
How could Mr. Corporate make such a huge mistake?
I reach for my phone on the bedside table and thumb through my contacts until I find his face. Claudette is still talking, her words coming out in a rush that I need to ignore. I can’t.
I press Corporate’s contact. But it goes to voicemail, even when I try his office. Not even his assistant is answering his calls today. It’s Saturday. And she said he had a full schedule of meetings today.
It’s not unusual for him to work weekends. He does whatever it takes to headhunt the perfect corporate executive. Meets them wherever they are. Travels all over the world.
And maybe it’s not so weird that he doesn’t pick up? How would I know? I’ve barely talked to him over the years. I’m only talking to him now because Perfect and I are still sorta close and he recommended I ask Corporate for help in finding a manager.
I end that call and tuck my phone in my shorts pocket.
“I’m outta here,” I say, dialing the front desk on the hotel phone. “Get my car ready, Denise.” I hang up and look at Claudette. “I’m going back to San Diego for the rest of the weekend. You can hold things down?”
Claudette stops rambling on about Ivy Rockwell, and she nods. “Of course, Nol. Of course. I’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry. I’m sorry you got hurt by this. You know I just want to protect you, right?”
“I know,” I say as I pull a shirt on and slip my feet into some old Chucks I’ve had since college.
We walk out of the bungalow together, make our way into the main building, and then say goodbye in the lobby.
My little silver Porsche Carrera is already waiting and I can’t get in fast enough. I tip the valet and slide behind the wheel, eager to forget about this day before it even properly starts. It’s only nine AM.
I shift into gear and speed down the resort driveway, the tall palm trees I paid almost half a million dollars to ship and plant blurring by as I pass.
Why? Why did Ivy do this? How did I misread her so badly? Was it Claudette? Did she somehow taint my instincts? Was I just being stupid? Horny? I’ve been out here for two weeks. No girls, no clubs to run, no fun.
But Ivy has to have an explanation.
Doesn’t she?
Chapter Eighteen - Ivy
I am already packed since I barely brought anything. So all I have to do is slip my shoes on and grab my carry-on bag.
I guess you blew it, Ivy.
I guess I did.
I make my way to the lobby and inform the desk staff that I will be waiting in the bar until the plane is ready. There’s no bartender. It’s not even nine in the morning. But I don’t care. I’m not looking for a drink, I’m trying to hide.
And I’m eternally grateful that I didn’t sit in the main lobby, because a few minutes after I sit down Claudette and Nolan appear. There’s a quick, awkward goodbye, and then Nolan leaves.
I can’t believe how badly this all turned out. And maybe last night’s mistake is my fault, but I’m not responsible for that résumé.
Claudette talks to the desk staff, and then the girl points towards me. Claudette turns around, and I swear, even though she is all the way across the lobby, I can see her eyes squint down in anger.
Here we go.
I guess I won’t get out of here without some bruises after all, even if it’s only to my ego.
Claudette’s shoes make a tapping sound as she comes closer, but she stops just at the edge of the bar entrance. “The jet is ready, Miss Rockwell. The car to take you to the airstrip will be here momentarily. Please, wait outside.” She turns on her heel and walks away.
Banished. I’ve been banished from their resort forever.
I don’t bother trying to explain. What does it matter? My fancy weekend is over.
So I get up and drag my carry-on case behind me as I make my way through the lingering haze of Claudette’s sick perfume to the front of the lobby. There is no car outside, but I have my orders. So when the automatic doors open, I step into the unbearable summer heat.
A hot desert wind blows my hair and I catch Nolan’s scent coming off the shirt I’m wearing. It’s an old Padres t-shirt. San Diego. Very… him.
I will never tell anyone about this. Ever. I will take this humiliating experience to my grave. No one will ever know that Mr. Romantic took my virginity. I will lie to Nora when I get home and tell her nope, no job and yep, still a virgin.
Just like you lied to Nolan.
Did I lie to Nolan? It didn’t feel like a lie. But his words, they are ringing in my head. Do you have any idea how bad this looks from my point of view? It was meaningful. It was heartfelt. It was the most emotion I’ve ever seen from Mr. Romantic.
He was referring to the way that girl lied about him back in college. He must have a lot of trust issues. And who can blame him? If I had gone through that, I’d have trust issues too.
And I earned his distrust. Because he’s one hundred percent right. I did come here to lose my virginity to him. At first. But that’s not really what I was thinking when it finally happened. I just wanted… him. That’s all. I just wanted his attention. I liked the way he was flirting with me. I liked holding on to him in the pool. Wrapping myself up next to his hard, warm body.
He felt like… like a possibility. Like maybe he and I might turn into something more. Like he and I were special.
That is so stupid.
I haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours.
But… I can imagine, in a fantastical kind of way, that we made a connection. When he talked about himself I only wanted to hear more. When we were having sex, before he got rough, it was perfect. It felt good. He felt good.
A long black car
pulls up, and while I was almost certain that Claudette would make me take a taxi, she didn’t. It’s for me. Not the same driver from before.
He puts my carry-on in the trunk and then we’re on our way.
I look out the back window as the tall palm trees flash by, and twenty minutes later, we’re at the airstrip.
It’s not busy here. Who is flying in and out of Borrego Springs in August? Just me.
I thank the driver and take my case.
“Miss Rockwell!” I look up at my name and spy Jerry, the flight attendant, waving at me from the top of the stairs. I wave back. “Did you have a nice stay?” he asks, once I’m in earshot.
“Yes,” I lie. “Very nice. But no job offers, unfortunately.”
“Well, it’s not over for you yet, Ivy Rockwell. I know you’re going places, so don't worry too much.”
“You’re right,” I say. “And you know, I’m really tired, so can I take you up on the offer of a bedroom during the flight?”
“Sure,” Jerry says, leading me towards the back of the jet. He pulls a panel aside to reveal a small room filled mostly with a large bed. It’s tight, but I don’t care. I keep my purse, but nothing else, and the minute he closes the door back up, I fall face-first onto the soft comforter.
And cry.
I sit up and rub my eyes. We’re still in the air, so I’m still stuck in this nightmare. I get up and grab my purse and open the door. There’s a bathroom across the hall. I know this from the last trip on the plane.
I try to close the door as quietly as I can so Jerry won’t know I’m awake, but there’s a knock as soon as I engage the lock.
I disengage and open the door to Jerry’s smiling face. Can’t put anything over on him.
“Miss Rockwell, as soon as you’re done in there I’m going to need you to take your seat and buckle in. We’ll be landing soon.”
