Hers

by Dawn Robertson

  The door closed and I set up a meeting with Ellen, bringing her up to speed with the newest issue on my plate of overflowing nonsense at Alexander Mobile.

  I explain the Cliff’s Notes version of the morning, filling Levi in on Ellen's suggestion of removing him from the board of directors, something that made me absolutely giddy. His fuck up wasn't part of my original takeover plan, but it worked out perfectly.

  “Wow, well, I can't say that scumbag didn't deserve it,” Levi says. Aren't these guys supposed to like each other?

  “Aren't you friends with Daniel?”

  He smiles like the Cheshire Cat. “Seven, I hate the guy. Have you ever heard of the term ‘frienemies?’” Maybe Levi would be a more valuable asset than I originally thought?

  “Yeah, I guess. I never thought men actually acted that way.” I shrug, and pull my laptop out to tackle some work before we touch down in London in a couple hours.

  “Seven, he is a piece of shit. He cheats on his wife, and he cheats in business, but everyone has to be nice to him because of his position. Well, had to, I guess.” He scrolls through his cell phone, as he types on the keys of his Blackberry. He tosses the phone onto the tiny tray in front of him in a huff.

  I wonder whether or not I should even ask. If it was anyone else, I am positive I wouldn't. I care; I refuse to admit it, but I do.

  My heart thumps in my ears, while I stop eying my own e-mail, and I turn to face him. “Everything okay?” Praying he shrugs me off, I start to turn away. I feel his finger run down my arm, stopping when it reaches my wrist.

  “Can I talk to you as a friend, because I think that’s what I need right now. Not a lover, or a boss. But a genuine friend,” he pleads with me.

  I can't help but be the friend he needs right now. I lock my fingers with his, and give his hand a squeeze. “Yeah, I can be that friend.” The walls I have been carefully building to keep him out continues to crumble. As I repair each missing brick, another falls at the other end. I’m fighting a losing battle, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  It is a scary feeling. I have been so careful to remain in control of my post-Daniel life, and here Levi is, carefully breaking down every defense I have carefully orchestrated over the years.

  “My ex-wife is a real bitch. She is doing everything she can to squeeze more money out of the alimony settlement; she already gets over thirty grand a month. I don't know what game she’s playing, but she’s threatening me with personal shit now. I don't know what else to do.” His fingers run through his messy brown hair, as he leans his head back against the plush leather plane seat, and he lets out a deep sigh.

  I think of something comforting to say, but I don't have a comforting bone in my fucked up body. “Hit her where it hurts.” Revenge is how I roll. I just can't understand the whole process of being upset and sappy over something when you can take charge and take over.

  “I don't even know where to start. The only way to hurt her is with money. I can't get out of alimony without violating the court order. Not worth going to jail over.”

  Do I really have to teach this boy everything? “Did you hire a PI before you divorced?” Excuse me for thinking everyone out there doesn't have an ulterior motive; with my track record, I don't trust anyone.

  “No, I never even thought of it.” For someone in such big business, he certainly is trusting.

  I try to think of the best way to put it without coming across as cold-hearted as I am. “Hmmm. Well, I’ll call my personal PI once we land in London. Give me her name, and some general info. I will get some dirt dug up. She thinks she has the upper hand; you have to put a stop to that.” I try to tone down my brazen attitude, but fail miserably. Maybe my lack of empathy, and caring, will drive him far away. This could work to my benefit after all.

  “Once we get the upper hand, we’ll formulate a plan, feed some information to your divorce attorney, and you can probably get her stripped of the alimony altogether.” I shrug, and run the pad of my thumb across his fingers. “It may be a long shot, but most of those trophy wife bitches are hiding some kind of skeleton in their closet. You just have to find out what it is.”

  “Thanks, Seven.” It’s all he says before releasing my hand, and going back to work.

  “What do you call this?” Levi asks, as he looks around the spacious foyer of the Empire Suite. The spacious pale yellow room is elegantly accented with rich hardwood flooring, modern chandeliers, and chic furniture. Two hallways run across from each other, one leading to the grand master suite, the other leading to two smaller, but just as impressive, bedrooms, all with attached en suite bathrooms.

  I turn to the bellboy tucking a tip into his palm and sending him on his way. The dirty looks I have been getting from this boy, barely out of puberty pisses me off. I don't want to come across as a complete cunt to the hotel staff, so I send him on his way. Apparently tattooed trash isn't typical in their designer suites.

  “I call this exactly how I travel. If I have to be out of my penthouse, this is where I need to be resting my head at night. And with the amount of bullshit I am going to have to deal with here in London, I wasn't settling for anything less.” I slide my suitcase off the bellboy's cart, and tug it behind me in the direction of the master suite. “You can pick whichever room suits your needs best.” As I enter the bedroom, I can see Levi removing his suitcase, and starting in the opposite direction.

  The only thing I need right now is a fucking shower. I hate flying; it always makes me feel gross. I open my suitcase, digging for my girly products, all my toiletries I never leave the country without, along with my petite makeup bag. Just enough for my less than extravagant taste in makeup. Of course, I packed them all the way at the fucking bottom of the suitcase. Isn't that how it always goes?

  By the time I discover the bag I’m looking for, it looks like a bomb went off across the bed. My clothes are thrown everywhere like a band of gypsies ransacked the place. I really wish I had my housekeeper right about now.

  I’ll deal with it after I wash off the funk of the flight. I slide my sweatpants off, leaving my green satin panties in place, before tugging off my Marilyn Monroe t-shirt and tossing it onto the giant king size bed. I unclasp the black lace bra, throwing it alongside the discarded t-shirt, and make my way to the sprawling bathroom. The shower has room for a half dozen people - with no privacy at all. Two sliding glass doors stand in place next to the enormous marble Jacuzzi bathtub. It rivals my own personal tub back home. This is one of the reasons I always come back to this London gem. I open a single glass door, and turn on the shower. I grab the missing bag of toiletries while the water heats up to the perfect scalding temperature. Honestly, the heat of my showers would probably cause third degree burns on most sane people, but for me, it is nothing short of refreshing. Sliding my panties down my legs, I kick them to the side, and step in to the shower. Placing my bag of soaps on the stone shelf in the corner, I adjust the water setting and let the hot water cascade over my body.

  I run my fingers through my long hair, then slowly turn around while I close my eyes, letting the steaming water run over my face. It feels nothing short of fucking amazing. I totally needed this to decompress and collect my thoughts. I turn once again, letting the water spray down my back. I lift my hands to wipe my face, and when I flicker my eyes open, all I can see is Levi, standing in the shower stall across from me, wearing nothing but a mischievous smirk, slowly stroking his erection. Creeper!

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I kind of want to punch him in the balls. What the fuck makes him think it’s okay just to stroll into my bedroom, and bathroom, and invade my privacy on this level?

  On the other hand, watching him slowly stroke his dick gets my juices flowing. He parts his lips, like he is actually going to answer my question, but he only runs his tongue along his bottom lip before pressing them tightly together.

  A long moment passes as we stare at each other. My gaze occasionally lowers to watch the show he is
putting on for me. He never makes a move for me, keeping his distance.

  He finally answers me. “What am I doing, Seven? I’m enjoying the show.” He pauses once again, almost as if he must catch his breath, “I came to ask you about dinner for the night, when I heard the water running. The thought of you naked on the other side of that door did bad things to me. I couldn't help myself. I just had to see your flesh again.”

  I listen to him and wonder why, for the first time in my life, someone is having this profound of an impact on me. Levi is like a drug I just can't get enough of. I want to overdose on him until I fall into a sex-induced coma, only coming back to life once he is fully out of my system, and I am once again safe. I know I shouldn't make a move, but his show has me beyond horny. I am at needs to fuck def-con level three-thousand.

  My nipples stand at attention, as my bare pussy starts to swell with anticipation of his homecoming. I step toward him with one thought on my mind, tasting the glistening precum dripping from the tip of his impressive length. This is totally out of character for me, but even if I wanted to stop, I couldn't. My body is on autopilot and Levi is in charge.

  I take another step, before I drop to my knees. I look up at him, making eye contact, as we exchange power without speaking a single word. I wrap my tiny hand around his cock and guide it into my mouth. Slowly teasing the tip, I lick the salty and sweet mixture of his arousal before wrapping my lips around his length and plunging it down my throat. Levi lets out a grunt of appreciation, while tangling his fingers through my wet hair. He grips it tightly, and it hurts, but the pain is nothing but pleasure. If he only knew hair pulling was the one thing that turned me into a wild woman, I am confident he would be pulling even harder.

  I run my tongue down the bottom of his beautiful shaft as he pulls out, and thrusts back in, fucking my face at a growing pace. My free hand grasps his heavy balls, squeezing and massaging them roughly.

  His body starts to tense, as he leans against the stone lined shower, never missing a thrust down my hungry throat. His balls tighten as his pace increases. I can feel the twitches in his dick, and I know he is about to empty down my throat. For the first time ever, I am beyond hot over the idea.

  “Oh, fuck. Seven!” he yells, followed by a deep growl. His semen fills my waiting mouth and pulses straight down my throat. He pulls out mid-orgasm and continues his release all over my face. Stream-by-stream, his seed covers my face. It falls onto my cheeks, and in between my lips, onto my waiting tongue, while he continues to work his dick, ensuring every last drop covers my face. With the last burst of come, he turns and walks out of the shower, leaving me alone, and covered in his semen. Well-played, you son of a bitch. Not only am I hot as fuck, and in need of my own relief, but he just completely mind-fucked me. Game. On.

  He sits across from me with a smug grin on his face, eating bite after bite of his salmon. I push the chicken parm around on my plate with absolutely no appetite. Still within the confines of our luxurious suite, we’ve opted for a room service-catered evening. After the brain beating I took in the shower, I had no desire to leave my bathroom, let alone face the world.

  “You really aren't going to talk to me?” he questions, reaching for a glass of red wine sitting in front of him on the table. As the glass meets his lips, I finally decide to give in.

  “What is there to talk about, Levi?”

  The fact is, we have the most fucked up relationship on planet Earth. I don't want to want him, but I do. He wants more than I will ever be able to give him, or at least I think he does. And we’re forced to work together in the most uncomfortable situation ever.

  During the day, we opened the door for some kind of friendship, as I offered to help him fend off the claws of his ex-wife. I, Seven Fucking James, was helping a guy, whom I’m fucking, fend off his ex-wife. Ex. Wife. I might as well start waving a little white flag in surrender, because no matter the outcome, it was going to be downright fucking bad.

  “What happened earlier?” His voice drips with sarcasm, as I try not to lunge across the table and strangle him to death. I’m pretty damn close.

  “Oh, you mean when you came into my shower and busted a load on my face without letting me return the favor?” I try to brush it off like his actions don't bother me in the least, but it’s clear that he can see right through me.

  “Seven, I don't know what kind of game we’re playing. But I am kind of over the game portion of things.” He’s trying to take charge of the situation, and in a way, it’s sort of cute.

  “What game, Levi? I told you it was a one-night thing. You wouldn't leave it at that. So I tried to push you away with the threesome with another guy. . The only thing that did was drive you closer. I don't know what else to do to push you away. I don't do whatever this is.” I wave between us with my fork, before tossing it down onto the plate in front of me and pushing my chair out. “We have to work together for this week, Levi. Please, don't make this any more uncomfortable than it is already going to be.” I stand on shaky legs, praying he can't tell my body is blatantly betraying the tough front I’m putting on. My bare feet pad down the hardwood floor toward the bedroom.

  I hear his chair push out from the table, and footsteps in the distance, but I don't look back to see where they lead.

  “Seven,” he speaks, waiting for a response. I pause outside of my door, hand on the knob. I turn toward him, locking gazes and he speaks. “Just give it a chance. A fucking chance. That is all I am asking you for.”

  I turn, facing the bedroom door. “I’ll think about it.” I close the door behind me. Fuck.

  The Night

  Fuck London. Fuck this time change. Fuck this incredibly comfortable bed. Fuck it all. No matter how hard I try, sleep won't come. I look at the clock on the nightstand; it tells me something I already know: midnight. I should have been dead asleep by nine if it wasn't for Levi's question as I fled the dinner table.

  He asked for a chance, but a chance at what? We could never have a relationship. I tried the whole relationship thing once. The whole love bullshit. We see how that worked out. As much as everything within me screams to give in to him and just give whatever he wants a try, the rational, stubborn, bitch inside me can’t let it happen. The heart Daniel abandoned and shattered will never be whole enough to open up to someone. It’s just something I accepted a long time ago. Not that I ever wanted that happily ever after anyway.

  I roll over again, facing away from the suite door, and hug a plush down pillow, trying once again for sleep to take me. The bed dips from behind, scaring the shit out of me. My body leaps from under the covers, scrambling to turn and identify the midnight intruder.

  I should have known Levi couldn't stay away. Without a word, he climbs under the covers, intruding my bed. His strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling my naked body to his. He cradles my body close to him, snuggling his face into my neck, and inhales my scent.

  I don't know if I should break the silence. I want to know why he’s in my room once again, interrupting my much needed privacy. But I don't want him to leave. I lie still while he curls up to me, closer than before, almost as if he is trying to climb into my body. I turn toward him and snuggle into the nook of his arm. My body starts to relax and I can feel sleep coming for me. My mind slows from its marathon pace, and I drift asleep in Levi's arms. It’s something I haven't done since my time with Daniel. I pray a nightmare doesn't taunt me tonight.

  Someone was inside the multicolored bus that doubled as a home our parents traveled across the country in. I could tell by the fogged up back windows. If I was really lucky, it would be my parents, along with Star's, engaging in some kind of sick and perverted sexual escapade. Ugh.

  I pried the doors open, and walked up the stairs. Someone moaned from behind the thin tie-dyed curtain. The voice was familiar. I could pick it out of a crowd anywhere. It was Star.

  My body went into overdrive hearing her sexy moans and pants as she neared orgasm. “Mmmmm, oh yeah,” she moaned. It wou
ldn't be the first time I’d walked in on her fingering herself.

  I pulled the curtain back. That was when I saw the most disgustingly erotic scene of my life.

  Star was perfection. Naked and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat across her body, as she was up on her hands and knees, taking it from behind. My eyes scanned up his body, and landed on his face. Blue. My fucking brother. My twenty-nine-year-old brother fucking my sixteen-year-old-best friend. The woman I fucked in my spare time. The only person in the entire world that I loved.

  Blue looked over and caught me staring. He fucked her harder, proving to me that anything I ever had in my life, he would take away from me.

  “You like that, Star?” he grunted as he fucked her harder. Her moans picked up, completely oblivious to my presence.

  “Oh Blue, fuck me!” Star called, as she bucked her ass back to meet his thrusts.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I choked the words out. I was so stunned. I didn't even know what else to say.

  Star turned in my direction, her short blonde hair sticking to her face with sweat, and she gasped in shock when her eyes found my dazed face. “Oh my god, Seven!” she yelled, pulling away from Blue and scrambling for her clothes.

  My brother leaned back on his haunches, stroking his dick while he watched Star flee, and I continued to stand there dazed.

  “God, put it away. You are fucking disgusting,” I yelled at him, as I turned to walk off the bus.

  My moment of excitement was completely gone. Hearing her moans had me aching for her touch, but the desire was long over. The one friend I had in the world, in the arms of my enemy, and I didn't even know where to go from there. What do you do when your life crumbles?

  My body tosses and turns in the spacious bed. I’m covered in sweat, and my yells echo through the expensive suite.

  “Fuck you!” I scream in the throes of a nightmare. “My brother, you fucking cunt?” I throw my arm to the side, trying to slap the target in my mind, but come in contact with a strong arm restraining me against the bed. My body slowly starts to wake up, and I realize that I was not only dreaming, but also that there is someone in my bedroom trying desperately to wake me.