Hard & Fast_A Hard Thrusting Racing Heart Billionaire Romance

by Vivien Vale

  He's in it for the long haul like a fucking marathon. I'm spent as all hell, but Xavier hasn't had his fill.

  He dominates me once again as if we both haven’t just come our brains out.

  I don't know what's left. But he’s surely gonna find it.

  He pushes into me and I'm whimpering and begging for it. I just want more of him. Always more.

  "Ah, Allie, you're so tight," he growls.

  The way he says it makes me get even wetter for him. How can this one man consume all of my thoughts and my body at the same time?

  The connection seems too deep, too real. I don't know what's going on. And I don't know if I can trust it.

  But for the time being it's all about the present moment. I can hardly think of anything else except for what's going on right now, which is the fact that I'm blindfolded and I only have the sensory experience of him taking me once more.

  He sinks into me deeper and deeper. My throbbing pussy is still aching for more. I can't keep up, so I just give in. I relax and give in to the force of his cock.

  I think I'm coming again but I can't tell because I'm living in one blissful place where everything all blends together. It's almost like having an out of body experience.

  "Are you ready for me to come?" he asks.

  "Yes," I sigh, my voice thick with desire.

  His motion speeds up considerably and he's pounding into me and it's everything.

  Before I can savor it for one single more second, though, he pulls out and sprays his cum all over my chest.

  I’m sure my tits are glistening with his sticky essence. I want to taste it and to have every part of him inside of me. I lick up what I can and this makes him groan.

  I'm completely spent, exhausted, done for. I lay stretched out on his bed unable to get up, unable to move. That many orgasms will do that to a girl.

  With one heaving motion, he lies down beside me and we curl up and go to sleep. It's been forever since I've slept like this, with a man that I feel safe with enveloping me.

  I think about our relationship and how it feels so real. I let myself drift off to sleep with fantasies of this man, Xavier, who is wrapped around me.

  Can it be real? Can I trust what I have? Surely I'm not making up a connection such as this.

  Don't do it, Allie. Stay guarded. You can't trust this guy.

  My intuition is screaming out at me to fucking pay attention, but all I can do is let myself drift off into a blissful sleep, unguarded, next to the man of my dreams.

  Allie

  It's been a few days since that incredible night of sex with Xavier. He made me feel things that I never felt before. He took me to realms of bliss that I didn't even know existed.

  Lately, he's all I can think about and that makes me nervous. I know he's a bad boy and I know he's a player, but somehow I've become wrapped up in him.

  You'd think he would've at least called by now, but he hasn't. So I'm trying not to get my hopes up.

  I haven't booked any more jobs since that video either, which is frustrating. I have rent to pay.

  Nothing is guaranteed in this business. I've learned that the hard way. But if I don't figure out something soon, I'm gonna have to take a second job.

  I make a cappuccino and then take my laptop outside to the common terrace I share with some people in my building. At least I have this outdoor space in NYC, which is damn hard to come by.

  I get comfy and pull my sweater tighter to shield against the fall air. There's nothing like fall in the city. I have a nice view of a tree-lined street where the leaves are just beginning to turn to shades of orange and deep red.

  Unfortunately, I'm unable to appreciate it as much as I should because my career is looming over me. I may not be able to afford to live here through the winter, and that thought is disheartening.

  I can't even let myself think of how it will to crawl home to my parents and have to admit that I failed.

  I'm an aspiring model and actress and this career has come with a certain cliche. No one thinks you can make it big because so many people try.

  I push those thoughts from my mind and get on the internet to see if my video is up yet on Hard Pressed .

  As soon as the site opens, I’m stunned into a shocked silence. The ground suddenly feels unstable beneath my chair.

  There's my face, the video, all under the caption "Beware: The Spread of STDs."

  What in fucking hell is this? This can't be right.

  With trembling hands, I press play and I see a vidio play about how STDs can spread so quickly from person to person. And guess who seems to be the spokesperson for it?

  Me.

  The video highlights a bunch of statistics about STDs.

  And then there I am saying, "Okay, well, for something to go viral let's say a person named Jamie has it and he then hangs out with Sarah and gives it to her and then Sarah gives it to Charles. This is how things get spread and before you know, it’s spread around to everyone you know and everyone they know."

  Oh my God.

  My words have been edited. While in the shoot I was talking about a video going viral, they've edited my words to include STD, which I know I never said.

  I don't know how this happened. I certainly didn't do my research into what the shoot was for, but I trusted my new agent Harry and I trusted Xavier to put me in the right position.

  I never dreamed the video would be about this. If I had known, I would've done it. They've painted me to look like I have a true STD.

  Is this even legal?

  The sad thing is, I don’t know. I didn’t even bother to read the contract. You’d think I’d have learned my lesson after Cheri.

  But no. Here I’ve gone and gotten myself royally screwed all over again.

  It doesn't look like I'm a model posing for a shoot, pretending to have an STD. All my words have been twisted and it sounds like I really do have one.

  I frantically search the Internet to see how far the video has spread. I go to YouTube and see that it has 800,000 views already.

  Holy fuck. Oh my God, what have I done?

  I feel nauseous. My ears are ringing.

  I hold onto the sides of my chair to steady myself as the world spins. I feel like I have vertigo. Everything seems a little off balance.

  A rush of adrenaline pumps through my body as I realize what this might mean. My reputation is on the line, and with this thing getting so many views people are always gonna know me as that model with an STD.

  "Are you all right?" some stranger asks me.

  I guess I must look as ill as I feel. I continue to hold my seat as the world appears simultaneously frozen and spinning at the same time.

  "Thank you, no, I'm fine," I say to him. I don’t even know how I force the words out.

  I don't know what to do or what my next step is. Can I have them take it down? I can try but if they don't agree there's no way I can afford a lawyer right now.

  I think back to when I signed the contract for this shoot. I thought everything would be in the clear. I was stupid and naïve and trusting.

  But now that I’ve signed, I don't think I have any course of action. I have no retribution. I fucking signed up for it. With a goddamn smile on my face.

  A sense of claustrophobia takes over. I feel the walls of my life closing in and I don't know how I'll get out of this mess.

  I pick my stuff up and rush back into the building to my apartment. I'm frantic, needing to get this thing contained. But I have a sinking suspicion my efforts will be in vain. The video has almost a million fucking views already.

  I scramble to the phone and call the one person I know I can trust. Lindsay.

  "Hi, Lindsay, it's me, Allie. You'll never guess what just happened."

  "Allie, I think I've already seen it," she says, her somber voice telling me all I need to know.

  Oh my God, if Lindsay's already seen it, that means most of the world probably will before long.

  "You saw my video?"<
br />
  "I'm afraid I have. Babe, I'm so sorry. Listen, I know it's not true and I know everyone else will think that also."

  The truth hits me like a ton of bricks. Lindsay's trying to be nice, and she's trying to soothe me, but the fact is people are definitely gonna think I have an STD from now on.

  I mean, I know it’s a serious thing. I know people suffer from this every day. I’m not making light of it. But this could effectively ruin my career for the types of jobs I want to go for. I’ll always be known as the STD video girl.

  Every time a new casting director Googles my name this is gonna come up. I will never escape this vicious shoot. I will never live it down.

  "Lindsay, I think I've just committed career suicide and I didn't even know what I was doing. I thought the video was for something else entirely. I didn’t say what it looks like I said. They've edited this to make it look like I really have an STD. I'll never have a normal life again."

  "It's okay, Allie. There's a way around this. You just have to figure out how to clear your name."

  She's trying to be a good friend, and she really is, but despair still washes over me.

  "I know you're right, Lindsay, but at this point, I just want to stay in my house and be a hermit forever. How can I show my face around town again?"

  "You can do that, Allie," she says supportively. "You have every right to just lay low for a while. But trust me, this thing is gonna blow over. It's not gonna haunt you forever. And besides, nobody watches these boring old videos anyway."

  "Thanks so much, Lindsay,” I say, but I don’t feel any better.

  "Okay, sweetie, call me if you need anything. And I'll call and check on you."

  I make an attempt at a joke. "Can you pick up my groceries and dry-cleaning forever?"

  We both laugh but I'm gonna be staring at a lot of delivery menus, this I know for sure.

  Lindsay says what only a good friend would.

  "I will seriously do that for you. If you feel like you can never leave the house again, I will be your personal slave and make sure you have everything you need."

  At least that gets a laugh out of me. "Thank you. You're always there for me."

  At least I have one person in the world that I can count on. I don't know how this happened, but I have to get to the bottom of it.

  For now, I decide to sulk. I play some moody music that has a sense of melancholy and I lick my wounds.

  I'm going to take a long, hot bath and pretend that this day never happened. At least in this moment, here in my own space, I can imagine that this never happened.

  I let the water run and my tears fall. There's no holding back this rush of emotion. I feel betrayed but I'm not sure by who. Did my agent do this? Or was it Xavier?

  How is it that I keep having such bad luck in the modeling world? Maybe I'm not meant to be here at all. Maybe I should've just stayed in my hometown and been satisfied with the status quo. Instead, I had to move to fucking New York City and try to make something of myself.

  Well, look at me now. I couldn't get much lower than this.

  I get into the bath and make sure there are lots of bubbles. Then I put a cold compress over my eyes and just try to disappear from the world.

  Xavier

  I always begin my day by working out. And today is a beautiful morning to be in the window-lined gym. The air is crisp and the fall weather is starting to turn.

  I've been a member at the little, exclusive gym right next to Hard Pressed ever since we opened.

  I had a vision of the kind of company I wanted to create and it's all come to life in such a short time. Our success was virtually overnight and it just confirms the fact that everything I touch turns to gold. I have the Midas touch.

  My morning workout is part of a kind of ritual that I prescribe to every single day. It keeps me steady, and it keeps me grounded, and most of all it keeps me in shape.

  I'm lifting weights and there's just the usual crowd of a few people other than me who are dedicated enough to show up here at five am. You have to be committed to your health to be here this early five days a week.

  I like to have everything exclusive and everything private in my life, and the gym is no exception. It has every amenity I could need and there's a spa attached for those really hard days when I need to unwind. It's only the best for me and even my gym must be swank.

  As I pump iron I think about Allie. I'm really having second thoughts now about the video. She's likely already seen it and that means her world must be crumbling around her.

  I try to take my aggression out on the weights but it does me no good. She's permeating every facet of my thoughts. Ever since Allie walked back into my life, I haven't been able to think of anything else.

  Even though I want to hurt her and to get her back from the past, there's something irresistible about her that I find truly fascinating. Despite the way she wounded me as a teen, I feel like she does have a good heart. She's not shown me anything but kindness, integrity, and humility since we’ve met again.

  She's not some arrogant model who feels entitled and like the world should be hers without having to lift a finger. No, that's not Allie. She is a lot more depth than that.

  So how did it all go so wrong?

  I take to the treadmill and try to sprint my way out of it. I feel truly bad for what I did to her and yet part of me feels like it was necessary.

  I run and I run and I run, trying to escape the pain of what I've done. The STD video has gone viral just like I anticipated. And it was me who did it.

  Suddenly I feel like I'm not much better of a person then Allie was in high school. The hatred I bear towards her is starting to fade and I see myself as a vile creature.

  Not even the toughest workout can erase this.

  I shower and leave the gym to hit the coffee shop that's conveniently located right next door. Everything in my life is in order. I'm at the height of my career, in the height of my life. And yet by hurting Allie, I feel like I've gone so wrong.

  I take my triple shot latte to the Hard Pressed headquarters next door.

  I walk into the building and nearly everyone says hello to me. I'm the boss and the CEO and that affords me respect, whether earned or not.

  If any of them knew what I did to Allie and how I pushed that STD video on her, well, I'm not sure I'd be getting such friendly greetings this morning.

  I take the elevator up to the top floor where I occupy the entire penthouse as my office. My secretary checks in and gives me a list of things I need to get done today.

  "Thank you, Tricia," I say to her. "Can you please bring me my protein shake?"

  "Sure, Mr. Armstrong. Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."

  I don't know why I even have to ask. I have the same thing every day and she should know it. I think it's time to find a new secretary.

  I'm in a brooding kind of mood. The gym did nothing to take my mind off Allie. And the idea that I've ruined someone's entire life doesn't feel so good. I definitely thought I'd gain more satisfaction from this but all I feel is guilt and blame.

  I take my phone to text her and think about maybe trying to smooth this whole thing out. But I just can't do it.

  I log onto my computer and find the video to see how many views it has by now.

  My God, the numbers have nearly doubled. Over 1 million hits already.

  I wonder how Allie's feeling? I imagine she hasn't left her apartment and I imagine she's shed a lot of tears over this. That thought should make me so happy. But instead, I feel like less of a man.

  Fuck. This is how she got me to fall in love with her before. She has a sparkling personality. But if that was so true how could she have been so cruel before?

  I reach again for my phone thinking maybe I can text her and we can meet. Maybe I can explain to her what happened and we can go about fixing it. Every time I see her name flash on my phone, though, I'm just reminded of the past and what she did and how she hurt me.

&n
bsp; I keep feeling like she doesn't deserve success. She doesn't deserve me to help her. She needs to be permanently scarred like I was. I wonder how many other guys she marred with her awful secrets?

  I sit at my desk and ponder the day. I have a lot to do but part of me feels like I have to see Allie. Being with her makes me just want to fuck her into oblivion. I long to possess her and for her to have eyes only for me.

  I simultaneously hate her and desire her. These feelings are confusing and they torment me. Normally I don't care about women very much. But something about Allie is the same as the girl I thought I knew in high school. The girl who wouldn’t do what she did to me.

  I used to be in love with her, I think, because not only was she beautiful but she was nice too. And I'm seeing that as she's changed into a woman, her heart is the same. And it's a heart I've officially hurt by releasing that video.

  Things are not adding up in my mind and I don't understand how I've arrived at this point.

  I decide at the very least I need to see her. Otherwise, she'll be on my mind all day and I'll have this inner battle of whether to text or not.

  I write to her and ask if she'll meet me at the coffee shop below the building.

  Her response is expected.

  I want to but I'm just too devastated. Have you heard about what happened? I don't want to show my face around town. How could you have done this to me?

  Okay, so she knows it was me. I'm going to have to weasel my way out of this. I'm not ready for her to know my true identity just yet.

  Just jump in a cab and come down here. No one will even see you. I need to talk to you.

  There's no response and I know she's probably sitting there thinking about what to do.

  I picture it and decide to push her farther.

  Please, Allie, it'll be worth it. Besides, I know you can't resist some espresso this early in the morning.

  If I cared about her at all I should really be the one bringing her coffee. I should really be nurturing her wounds and helping her through this.

  Instead, I'm the one who caused all this. I'm just not that guy she needs to comfort her.