by Nikki Ash
Not that it really matters at this point. No matter how much I’ve tried to get Heath out of my head, I can’t. He follows me everywhere I go. When Elliot touches me far too softly, I recall all the times Heath would push my limits. Bruising and punishing. When Elliot refuses to talk business to me, I can’t help but think back to when Heath would ask for my opinion. When Elliot brings me home meaningless trinkets, I try to block out every thoughtful gift Heath has given me: from the first edition of Wuthering Heights that he saved up and purchased for my birthday one year because he knows how much I love British literature, to the charm bracelet he gave me for Christmas, promising each year to add another charm. I glance down at my unfinished bracelet, with only three charms linked on: a book to symbolize my love of reading, a yellow taxi cab that he purchased after he made me take my first ride in one through the city, and a heart with a key hanging on it, which he gave me on Valentine’s Day. He told me I hold the key to his heart.
Speaking of hearts, mine is aching. I have all the things money can buy, yet here I am longing for the one thing it can’t. Damn Heath! I hate the hold he has over me.
“We’re here,” Elliot says, and I push my thoughts of Heath to the side. The driver opens my door for me to get out, and when I step outside and take in my surroundings, I see we’re standing on Madison Avenue, adjacent to the Morgan Library, and directly in front of us is a food truck. My heart picks up speed as a flashback to a couple months before my father passed away hits me in full force—back to a time when my world felt complete.
I have just gotten home from my weekly tea with Delores and Isabel Lincoln and I’m not even through the foyer when Heath appears out of nowhere and announces we’re going on a surprise trip. Refusing to give me any details, he hoists me over his shoulder with a slap to my ass and carries me outside to the car where he deposits me into the passenger seat before walking around to the driver’s side and getting in. He starts up the car and presses the button to lower the top of my convertible BMW.
When I give him a curious look, he simply grants me a boyish grin and says, “It’s too nice of a day out not to enjoy the breeze.” With his hand in mine, he puts the car in drive and peels out, the dirt from the driveway kicking up behind us.
“Heath! Where are we going?” I laugh, my hair whipping around my face from the wind, as we drive down the windy road.
“It’s a surprise! Now pick something good to listen to and enjoy the ride.” He smiles my way and I let out a happy giggle. I love when Heath is carefree. When he lets his guard down and simply enjoys life.
“I’d rather enjoy you.” I rub my hand flirtatiously along his crotch and he hits me with a warning glare.
“Woman, don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“And who says I can’t finish?” I bite down on my bottom lip seductively while undoing his pants.
“Your track record for refusing to give me head speaks for itself,” he points out.
“There’s a first time for everything.” Taking his dick into my hand, I stroke it a few times to get it hard. Heath glances down and I feel the car swerve.
“Heath! Watch the road.” I laugh.
“I can’t help it. You’re touching my dick.”
“Well, help it. I don’t want to die giving you a blow job,” I scold. Heath chuckles and I go back to giving his now hard cock attention. Dipping my head down, my lips wrap around his hard length as I take him all the way in. I start off slow, getting used to him in my mouth, wetting him with my saliva. Once he’s hard as steel, I start to bob my head up and down over his shaft. I have no clue what I’m doing, but Heath must be enjoying it, because the more I suck, the louder he groans. His fingers grip my hair and I think he’s going to force me farther down, but he doesn’t. Then the thought of him forcing me has me squirming in my seat. He slaps my ass and I take him deeper, the tip of his dick hitting the back of my throat.
“Fuck, woman, I’m going to come,” he moans out as a warning. Wanting to make it good for him, I don’t heed his warning, and a second later, he’s coming down my throat. I choke on his salty seed and gag, lifting off him and coughing loudly.
Of course Heath finds this amusing, throwing his head back with an animated laugh. “I warned you!”
Grabbing a napkin from my glovebox, I spit out what I hadn’t swallowed. “Well, how was I to know your cum would taste like the ocean mixed with urine?” I pout, embarrassed.
“Hey, don’t get upset. You give great head.” Heath winks at me. “And I might even let you do it again on the drive home.”
I roll my eyes, trying to think of something to say, but when I look around at our surroundings, I recognize where we are. “Heath!” I exclaim. “You brought me to the Morgan Library!”
“You said you wanted to see the British Literature Exhibition, didn’t you?” He grins, and I throw my arms around his neck, planting a big wet kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you.”
We spend the entire afternoon walking around the library. I know Heath doesn’t care about eighteenth century literature in the slightest, but he pretends to by asking me questions and pointing out things from every exhibit. And only when we’ve seen it all twice and the library makes their announcement that they’ll be closing soon, does he take my hand in his and walk us out of the library and down Madison Avenue. When my stomach rumbles and I tell him I’m hungry, Heath grins mischievously and walks us over to a food truck that’s parked along the side of the road.
“No way!” I withdraw my hand from his. “I was thinking more along the lines of the Madison Café.”
Heath snorts out a laugh and snatches my hand back up in his. “Yes, way. Today you’re going to eat like the common folk.” His eyes shine playfully, so I don’t argue further. When he steps up to the truck, he orders for the both of us and makes me promise to at least try it.
Once our order is ready, he hands me my food and explains that it’s Russian dumplings. Taking a hesitant bite, I’m shocked by how flavorful it is. The dumplings are juicy, tasting of beef, onions, and potatoes, and I wonder if I can get Helen to make this dish at home.
“Good, huh?” Heath asks knowingly.
“It is,” I concede, taking another bite.
“Sometimes slumming it isn’t so bad,” he murmurs.
“Catrina, are you okay?” Elliot asks, shaking me out of my thoughts.
“Yes, I was just thinking we could try out that food truck over there.” I point to the truck parked along the edge of the road. It isn’t the same one Heath and I ate at, but the aching pain in my heart over missing Heath has me wanting to try it anyway in hopes of feeling close to him again, even for just a moment.
“I’m almost positive that food truck would fail over a hundred safety and health inspections. Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve brought you to the Madison Café, your favorite.”
“Well, this is where I want to eat!” I point to the food truck and Elliot glares at me.
“Are you buying?” he asks incredulously and I shoot daggers his way.
Who the hell does he think he is?
“No, you are.” My arms cross over my chest defiantly. I scowl at him, refusing to move toward the café. For a long moment, Elliot and I stare at one another in a silent standoff, but I know I’ve won when he finally relents with an annoyed sigh and walks us over to the food truck. The Asian food isn’t half as good as the Russian cuisine Heath got for me, but I don’t tell Elliot that. I eat my entire plate of food with a smile plastered on my face, hiding a snicker when he complains he’s going to get food poisoning from eating this food, or sick from my forcing him to sit on the city bench. Unfortunately, it was a wasted effort on my part, as I don’t feel any closer to Heath, but again, I don’t mention that to Elliot.
Once we’re done eating and have disposed of our trash—and Elliot insists we don’t have time to check out the library today—we head back home. The moment we arrive, he tells me he has some work to do, so I make my way outside to tak
e a walk down to the stables. One of the perks of living with Elliot are the horses. While my father felt they were too much of a hassle to maintain, Elliot’s family has an entire horse ranch complete with stable hands.
I walk down the middle of the barn and find my favorite American Quarter horse Elliot bought me. She pops her head out when she sees me coming and lets out a neigh. Grabbing a carrot from the bucket, I feed it to her while I rub her beautiful brown nose. “Gerald, I would like to ride Copper,” I request to one of the stable hands that I find mucking the stalls. He scurries off to get her ready, and once she is, he helps me up, and with a click of my heel, Copper takes off in a trot.
The path leads us down to the large lake that separates my family’s estate and the Lincolns’. My thoughts go back to all the times Heath and I would go swimming in these very waters during the hot summers. Elliot would come down on his horse with Isabel by his side and scold me for swimming in the dirty water. Then of course he would tattle on me to Helen. Heath loved when I would get punished. It just meant hours of time spent in my room without anybody bothering us.
My heart constricts as I think about Heath. Next week will be Elliot’s and my one-year wedding anniversary. It will also make one year since the last time I saw or heard from Heath.
Bored of riding and sad from reminiscing, I make my way back to the stables and hand Copper back over to Gerald. Elliot is still in his office working, so I look for Helen and find her in the kitchen, making my favorite blackened shrimp salad.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Helen asks without even looking up from what she’s doing.
“Nothing.” I sigh. “Just bored.”
“How could you possibly be bored? You have the entire world at your fingertips.”
Yeah, the entire world minus one broody, sexy-as-sin man who I miss more than I care to admit.
“I just am,” I snap, which has Helen glancing up and assessing me.
“Want to know a rumor I heard?” she taunts, focusing her attention back on the cucumber she’s slicing.
“I suppose.” I feign indifference.
“I heard Mr. Heath is back in town.” Her eyes dart up and I force myself not to react as my thoughts go back to the last time I saw Heath. My wedding day. The way he ruthlessly took me right there in my wedding gown. The way he claimed my ass, punishing me for choosing Elliot over him.
Before I can respond to what she’s said, I hear the doorbell ring. I sit frozen in place. It can’t be, can it? He wouldn’t show up here. Not after all this time. Not after I chose Elliot over him. And then I hear his voice and it has me shooting out of my seat and scurrying into the foyer.
Heath. In an expensive navy blue three-piece suit, he stands in the foyer with a devious smirk splayed across his face. He looks just like he did the last time I saw him, yet different. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but he appears to be more refined, more worldly. His hair is gelled back like it always was when he worked for my father, but now he’s sporting some scruff that’s been neatly trimmed into a distinguished goatee. Usually I prefer a clean-shaven man, but as his finger and thumb come up to rub his new facial hair, I imagine how it would feel between my thighs. His eyes meet mine and the muscles between my legs clench in excitement. His gaze drags down my body and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. The same tongue that was sucking on my clit the last time I saw him. The last time I was fully pleasured by a man.
“And to what do we owe this pleasure?” Elliot says, sarcasm dripping with each word, as he walks up next to me and wraps an arm around my waist.
“Didn’t you hear? I’m living at Windy Hills.”
Heath
ONE YEAR I’VE WAITED. BIDING my time. Working my fucking ass off. It’s a hard world out there, but I’ve learned that if you look and act the part, most people just go with it. And that’s what I’ve been doing. Getting people to just go with it.
Little by little, day by day.
Each second I was away from her, I was able to think. Really think about my situation and how I got there. Most importantly, who was to blame. A man with an idle mind and time on his hands will create a cleverly dangerous agenda.
I’m pleased that the Lincolns are stunned by my surprise appearance. Helen mutters her displeasure nearby and my grin widens. Elliot gapes at me, his mouth opening and closing as though he wants to say something to me. While he gapes like a fish, I pounce on his wife.
“Don’t I get a hug?”
Catrina seems to shake away her daze and a screech of excitement echoes from her. My heart clenches when she throws herself into my arms. After having been denied her scent, her touch, her voice for so long, I greedily indulge in her.
“You just disappeared!” she exclaims against my neck, her hot breath speaking straight to my neglected dick. “I was worried sick!”
Good. Exactly what I’d hoped. It fucking killed me when she chose him over me. But I know my Catrina. She thinks she wants one thing, but her heart has another idea. Her heart always wanted me. Now, it’s time to remind her of that.
“I’m back now,” I assure her, squeezing her. “Come on. Let’s get the hell out of here and catch up.”
Elliot clears his throat. “Darling.” His tone is shrill and feminine. As though his nuts are shriveling up in fear—fear that I’ll walk right out that door with his wife sitting on my dick. The thought is tempting. “Catrina.” This time it’s harsher.
She unwillingly peels herself away from me, but I lock my arms around her waist. Our faces are inches apart. I could just kiss her now. Elliot Lincoln would have to watch.
I could.
But I won’t.
Not yet, anyway.
“I’ll get my purse,” she breathes. “There’s a cute little French restaurant down the—”
“Catrina,” Elliot snips. “Don’t be ridiculous. Helen will make some refreshments and we’ll entertain Mr. Heath.”
Helen scurries away to do his bidding.
I bite back a laugh. Fucking pussy. He doesn’t trust me alone with his wife. And he shouldn’t. The moment I get her alone, I’m going to defile her and stain her with me.
Catrina’s green eyes flicker with disappointment. Poor girl’s probably been half-dead with boredom. She thought I’d lick her back to life.
In due time, love.
“Fine,” she huffs, placating her whiney husband. “But I want to hear every detail, Heath.”
She grabs my hand and guides me over to a loveseat. I sit, pulling her down beside me. Elliot glowers at me but takes a seat in a nearby chair. He blabbers on, but I’m not interested in what that prick has to say. I’m too busy admiring her. Her cheeks have rounded out some. They must feed her well here. It looks good on her, but I’m smart enough not to bring up the fact she’s gained some weight. I’d like to keep my balls. Her husband already lost his and she keeps them in her purse. Our hands remain conjoined and I run my thumbs across the tops of her hands. So smooth.
“I missed you, my love,” she mutters.
Elliot goes silent.
“My best friend,” she amends, flashing Elliot a polite smile.
I laugh, earning a warning glare from Catrina.
“Anyway, tell me where you’ve been.” She bats her lashes and bites on her bottom lip. Gives me those pretty fuck me eyes like she used to. This bored housewife is ready for some excitement.
“I’ve been in London.”
“London?” she gasps. “Why? What’s in London? How did you get there?”
Without money she means.
“I have my ways,” I say, winking at her. “Tell me how married life is treating you. Are you satisfied with this new life?”
Her nostrils flare and a blush creeps up her throat. I wonder if she’s remembering the one time I fucked her in the lake with swimmers nearby. Or the time I fingered her in the movie theater. Perhaps she’s recalling the time I licked on her pussy while she talked to her father on the phone when he was away on business.
&nb
sp; “Elliot provides well,” she says primly and flashes him one of her beauty queen smiles.
He grunts and then thanks Helen when she sets down a tray of cookies and lemonade.
“Lovely,” I tell Catrina, once again laughing. I wonder if she ever regrets her decision. Was an indoor pool worth a year of no orgasms? “Sounds like the perfect life.”
I turn away from Catrina to pick up a glass of lemonade. Elliot shoots laser glares at me, but I ignore him. Catrina leans into me, her head resting on my shoulder.
“You smell good. New cologne? Is this Armani?” Her fingers run along my jacket lapel. “It’s new. Where did you get a new Armani suit? I have so many questions,” Catrina chatters on.
“I have my ways,” I say again. Then, I turn to Elliot. “How is Isabel these days?” I don’t care about her, but I want to rattle him. A vein pulses in his throat at the mention of his little sister.
“Isabel is fine,” he clips out. “She is—”
“Right here,” Isabel chirps from the doorway and then prances into the room, batting her lashes. “I’m right here.”
So pathetic. The whole lot of them.
“Good afternoon, Isa.” I wink at her.
Her cheeks burn bright red and she looks away. “Good afternoon, Mr. Heath.”
Catrina squeezes my shoulder. “I think you’re bigger. Have you been working out?” She looks up at me with her seductive eyes and flashes me the look she always gave me when she wanted my undivided attention. Naturally, Catrina doesn’t like sharing my attention with Isabel. Noted, darling.
“I’ve been doing a lot of things,” I assure her. My eyes drop to her lips. She licks them and I grin.
“Catrina,” Elliot grunts. “You’re being overly welcoming to Mr. Heath. Perhaps give him some space to breathe.”
Her nostrils flare and annoyance flickers across her features. “I’ve missed him. He’s my best friend. It feels like a decade, not a year. Right, Heath?”
“Feels like a lifetime indeed,” I agree. “But I’m back for the time being. There will be plenty of time to catch up. We’ll pick right back up where we left off.”
