by Amy Briggs
“What are you doing?!” she yelled.
“Go change your clothes. Enough of this shit!” I shouted back at her. Frustration with her attitude was making me crazy, and on top of that, the sight of her dressed like a 1950’s housewife was also so fucking hot that I needed to adjust my cock. Not only did she have the full vintage clothing on, she had her hair done up in beautiful curls, tied back with a silk scarf. She looked like a fucking pin-up model.
“Oh, I’m sorry, was belabored housewife not what you were in the mood for? What about socialite prisoner? Is that more your speed?” she hissed at me as she attempted to shove me away.
At six foot four, there was not much her tiny frame could do to move me, which just angered her more. I grabbed her just below her shoulders, holding her still before taking in a deep breath. I didn’t want to fight with her. “Please stop, Lucy. Just stop,” I stated as calmly as I could.
“Why? What difference does it make?” She started to calm down, and I loosened my grip on her.
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, okay? I’m sorry that I haven’t been home. Is that what you’re mad about?”
Her lips curled into a sexy pout that I couldn’t take my eyes off of. Her painted red lips were calling to me, and I was doing everything in my power to avoid what I wanted to happen.
“I’m lonely here all day by myself, Ryder. I feel like I’m locked up in a tower and have everything I could possibly need, and yet nothing at all. I left my jobs for this. Do you understand that I wanted to work? Do you even know why I’m here?” A single tear rolled down her cheek, slicing my chest open wide. I felt fucking horrible.
I let go of her immediately, and reached to her face to wipe away the tear, when she flinched. Another knife to my heart. “Did you think I would hurt you, Lucy?” I asked in shock. As another tear fell, she shook her head, but didn’t speak. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” She thought I’d hurt her, and the thought of her frightened of me was more gut-wrenching than the day she left. Completely unsure of how to handle the situation, I did what I knew how to do best. I walked away. “Please come have dinner with me at seven,” I muttered as I headed to my bedroom.
I took off my suit, and changed into jeans and a t-shirt before sitting on the edge of my bed to think. Placing my head in my hands, I tried to calm myself and figure out my next move, when I heard a tiny knock at the door.
“It’s me,” she said quietly through the door. “May I talk to you for a minute?”
“Of course,” I replied as I got up to let her in. I didn’t know what to say, but I was glad that she came to me.
I watched as she looked around my bedroom, taking in her surroundings. There wasn’t much to see. I had a huge California King bed, two nightstands, a dresser, and a lamp. I didn’t bother furnishing it any further than that, as I usually just crashed in there anyway. I stepped aside for her to come in, and motioned for her to sit on the bed, which she did.
“I’m sorry for the theatrics today,” she began. “It’s just that I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I really don’t. I get that I’m supposed to be your fake girlfriend or companion or whatever, but you want me to live here alone, with nothing to do all day. It’s making me crazy.” Her voice shook.
Dropping to my knees in front of her, and taking her hands in mine, I tried to meet her eyes. “Look at me, Lucy,” I demanded softly. As she turned her gaze back to me, I continued. “I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like a prisoner here. I am overprotective of you because of my business and because, contrary to what you may think, I do care about you. I know that isn’t fair to you, though. I’m going to try to make this better, okay?”
“Do you even want me here, Ryder? I could just move back to my apartment, and I can still go with you wherever you want me to, like we agreed. I mean, we’re not a real couple, so what difference does it make anyway?”
Thinking briefly about how to respond honestly, without either getting angry, or handing over my my heart to her again, I replied, “I want you here. It’s been a strange couple of days, and I promise you that moving forward, it won’t be like it has been.” I brought her hands to my lips, kissing the top of each of them gently.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her lips beginning to form a bit of a smile, slowly closing the chasm in my heart, that had been there just moments ago.
I wasn’t at all sure what the fuck I was doing, but I wasn’t going to make her cry anymore. That was for certain. “I’m sure,” I replied. “Now let’s go eat. Like a normal couple.” I stood up, pulling her with me, and we walked to the dining room together.
Chapter 11
Lucy
I knew I was being dramatic, but I was so fucking bored, and the longer we went without talking or seeing each other while living in the same house, I just got angrier. In all honesty, I did have fun dressing up like it was a Halloween costume; it was even kind of cute. But I knew he’d be pissed, and I was pushing his buttons on purpose. What I didn’t expect was for us to connect even more afterward.
Truthfully, I had no idea what I was doing. What I expected from this arrangement was something different. I’m not sure what I thought it would be like, but once I was there, living in his home for a few days, I wasn’t excited anymore. I was a big ball of twine on the inside - all wound up, and slowly coming apart. The money was one thing, but it had become more emotional; he still hadn’t acknowledged what happened in the past, really, but we were supposedly moving on. It didn’t feel like a business transaction anymore. It was as if we were on a reality show or something, where they put you together with your ex and you have to tolerate each other on a desert island to win a cash prize. Except, we were pushing each other’s buttons because we didn’t know what else to do.
Apologizing to him was the right thing to do, even if I wasn’t completely sorry. I saw the way he looked at me; there was a part of him that enjoyed it. He’d become so stuffy and driven over the last few years that I enjoyed ruffling his feathers, even if it was only for a moment. In his bedroom, I looked around and noticed he had nothing personal there. Not a single picture, nothing indicating who he was or where he’d been in his life. The furniture was, of course, high end and beautiful, but there was no personality to anything in his home. His demeanor had shifted from angry to what seemed like anguish, and that is when I offered to just go back to my own apartment.
It didn’t make sense for us to spend the next year silently torturing each other, and the more time I spent with and around him, the more lost in my head I was becoming. To my surprise, he knelt before me, and promised that it would be different. And in that moment, I flashed back to when he first told me he loved me. We were only sixteen, but we’d had a stupid argument about him driving us around too fast in his Camaro. When we finally stopped and I got out of the car angrily, he chased after me. He grabbed my arm the same way he did after our fight in the foyer, and sat me down, professing his love for me. How he’d never do anything to hurt me. He had actually lived up to his end of the deal.
As we sat across from each other, eating the amazing chicken marsala that Maybel had made for us, I reflected. I realized that the man he’d become - the cold, unbreakable rule-making man - was of my own making. I’d done that to him. In my selfish pilgrimage to the big city, I left more than my shitty home life behind. I left behind people who genuinely cared about me because my dreams seemed more important; I was desperate. It seemed that perhaps I was always desperate.
“What are you thinking about, Lucy? You’re lost in thought,” he interrupted my reflections.
“I was thinking about what brought me here,” I replied thoughtfully.
“Here, to my house?” he asked, seeming confused.
“Here to New York. Here to this place in my life. Here, back to you, actually.” I let a slight chuckle out, recognizing the irony in all of this.
“And what are you thinking about it?” he asked me, listening intently.
“I’m thinking that I’ve made
some incredibly selfish decisions in my life that have hurt people. And while maybe I was young, and naive at the time, I knew what I was doing, and I did it anyway.”
Raising his eyebrows at me in surprise, he asked, “Do you talk to your mother at all?”
Pursing my lips at the thought of her, I let out a breath. “No. No, I don’t.”
“Do you wonder how she’s doing?” he asked me, taking a sip of the red wine he’d poured for us.
“Sometimes. But you know how she was…” I started to trail off, and as I grew more uncomfortable with the topic, I tried to close that door. “She didn’t care what I was doing, Ryder. She never cared. You were there. You saw what my life was like.”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles tightening and bulging at the sleeves of his shirt. “You didn’t have to run away, Lucy. You realize that, right?”
I didn’t want to be having this conversation, but I’d accepted the fact that it was going to happen eventually. “I think that I did, Ryder. I needed to get away. I needed to find myself.” I scoffed at the statement. Finding myself wasn’t exactly a revelation in realizing success for me. “If I had stayed, I’d still be there. Working some shit job, taking care of my mom, who didn’t really like me anyway. It was miserable. And I deserved another chance.”
“So, is this your second chance? How is what you’ve been doing any better than it was back then, except that you have nicer clothes?” That stung a little, but it was the truth.
“I honestly don’t know. But I had to try.” I gave in to the reality that I was in exactly the same position I was in six years ago, when I’d left for a fresh start. He was right. I was waitressing and working as an intern. At my age, I should have had a real career. Or started a family. Or both. Something more than doing the same thing in a different town.
“Lucy. Look at me,” he said sternly, as I’d lowered my head in remorse for my shitty choices.
Trying to break the seriousness of the conversation, I sneered at him playfully. “You’re very bossy these days, Ryder.”
Laughing, he relaxed his posture, and leaned forward. Then, in a hushed and serious tone, he replied, “That’s right, I am, Lucy. I’m the boss now. Do you think that you can handle that for the next year? Me, taking care of you. Telling you how it’s going to be. Do you think that you can stop fighting me every day?”
As I watched his lips form the words slowly, I licked mine gently as if I were about to have him for dessert. His dominance was so fucking sexy, I was melting into a puddle in my chair. Part of my wanted to verbalize how sorry I was for everything, how it was my fault he’d become cold, but in that moment, he was lighting me on fire. As I gulped, my fingertips made their way to my neck, brushing gently against my skin.
“Answer me, Lucy. Can you handle it?” he practically growled at me.
I felt myself nod slightly, as I stared into his eyes, burning intensely through me. “Yes.” I managed to force a whisper, completely entranced by his raw manliness.
He stood up abruptly, on a mission. Advancing quickly to my side of the table, he grabbed the back of my chair, pulling it back and grabbing me simultaneously. Before it registered with me what was happening, his lips were on mine, feverishly sucking me into his storm. In that second, I forgot everything, and let him consume me. As his lips found my neck, I gasped, grabbing at his waist under the hem of his tight shirt. He dominated me, pulling me to him, his hardness pressing against me, and he grabbed the hair at the back of my neck, granting himself better access as he ran his tongue along my shoulder.
If he hadn’t been holding me so tightly, I’d have melted into the floor as my knees buckled, and he pulled me closer. Raising both of his hands to my face, he pulled away, meeting my gaze. “Do you want this, Lucy?” he asked in a low, breathy voice.
I nodded to him, unable to speak and wanting his lips on mine again.
“I need you to say it. You have to tell me that you want this,” he said desperately,still holding me close to him, almost out of breath.
I swallowed to find my voice, replying in a whisper, “I want you, Ryder.” I said the words, and as I heard them come out of my mouth, I had another revelation. I never stopped wanting him.
And with that, he planted his lips on mine one more time, before dragging me to his bedroom.
Chapter 12
Ryder
I didn’t care about the contract anymore. The only thing I wanted was to reclaim what was mine. Lucy was always mine, whether she knew it or not. I had lost complete control, and my longing to touch her had only just begun to be sated. As I dragged her like a caveman to my bedroom, I shoved away the thoughts of what would happen next.
“Lucy, I’m not the teenager you used to know.” I backed her against the wall just inside my bedroom. I wasn’t nearly as timid or capable of being gentle with her as I would have as a kid. I wanted to own her, and she needed to know that.
“Take me, Ryder,” she breathed out as I pressed my body against hers, giving me the permission I needed.
Her fingertips ran along my torso, as I inhaled the smell of her perfume at her neck. Her touch was intoxicating, but everything about her made my head swim. I ferociously kissed at her delicious neck again, before grabbing her tiny hands and raising them above her head. Her eyes met mine through her lashes, and her hair fell around her shoulders. I took in her stunning beauty for an instant before continuing my feverish exploration of her body. Holding her in place like that made me feel powerful; she was giving in to me, and it was fucking hot. She didn’t fight back, I controlled her, and I was going to take my time reclaiming her.
I turned her around to face the wall, then grabbed the hem of her tank top, pulling it over her head. As her blonde waves fell around her shoulders again, I slid the strap of her black lace bra down over her shoulder, pulling her into me. My cock throbbed against her back, while I ran my other hand up her torso on my way to her breasts. From behind her, I pulled the lace down, cupping her breast, and running the pad of my thumb over her stiff nipple. Her reaction let me know she was enjoying my touch as she pressed her ass into my cock and moaned slightly.
“Ryder,” she whimpered as I lightly pinched her nipple, then ran my hands down to her hips to take off her pants. Sliding them down, I took note of the matching lace panties that accentuated her perfect ass. She began to drop her hands to help me, when I stopped her.
“No,” I commanded quietly, my lips brushing against her ear, causing her to shiver. “Keep your hands against this wall. I’ll tell you when you can move.” I fucking loved telling her what to do; her compliance only made me harder. I could barely stop myself from fucking her right then and there, but I wanted this moment to last as long as possible. I wanted her to beg me for it. I ran my hand along her smooth ass, taking in her perfect body.
I quickly shed my own shirt, then pressed myself against her again, skin to skin. “I’m going to spank you, Lucy. You’ve been bad. That’s your punishment,” I growled in her ear as I pulled the lace down underneath her other breast, pinching both of her nipples. “Bad girls get spanked. And you’re a bad girl, aren’t you, Lucy?”
I felt her breath hitch before she diligently replied. “I’m a bad girl, and I need to be punished.”
If it were possible, my dick got even harder, and I released her tight little nipples to run my hand over her ass as I bent her over slightly, her hands still against the wall. Her panties were cut high along her hip, exposing most of her ass to me, and as I slapped her with mild force, she let out a slight whimper, but continued to stay still. Rubbing the spot I had just smacked, I watched her skin turn slightly pink from my touch and I slapped it again. This time, she let out a moan and I ran my fingers between her legs. She was soaked, and I needed to taste her. I’d have to punish her more later; I couldn’t wait any longer.
I turned her around to face me again, watching her stare at me with wide eyes. Her breath was labored, as she placed her hands o
n my chest. I kissed her more softly, coaxing another soft groan from her as she pressed herself against me. I stroked her long hair before gently shifting us to the bed where I laid her down tenderly. Before I crawled above her, I rid myself of my clothes quickly as she examined my body quietly.
As I approached, she spread her legs to me. Saliva pooled in my mouth as I caught the sweet scent of her desire for me. I wanted to hear her voice. “Lucy, tell me you want me to devour your pussy now.” She stared at me, her mouth open, her bra still out of place pushing her breasts up dramatically, her tight little nipples on display.
“Ryder, you know I want you. Take what’s yours,” she pleaded.
“Say it, Lucy. Say you want me to eat your pussy before I fuck you like it’s the first time,” I growled at her. She was so fucking hot, her blonde curls splayed behind her.
She whispered, “I want you to eat my pussy, Ryder. And then I want you to fuck me… Like it’s the first time.”
I pulled her panties down, kissing the inside of her thigh as she fell back onto the huge pillows. As I flattened my tongue and licked her wet slit, I watched her reach up to caress her own nipples. My cock was starting to drip; I could barely stand the pleasure of seeing her like that. She immediately started rocking her hips into my face as I lapped at her clit, but when I slid a finger inside her, she cried out, the waves of her climax coming quickly. While she rode my face, I continued sucking at her, holding her hips to me.
