BOOK 3—BROKEN
Chapter Five
“Come on, Ciara, the car must be waiting for us downstairs.”
“I’ll only be one more minute. I only have to jump into my jeans and I’ll be ready.”
Crap, it’s his fault if I’m late. I’m so bruised again today and my body is aching. You’d think I got a massage from a steamroller.
“I hope I didn’t push you too hard this morning.” Nikolaj grins with a guilty half-smile. “My appetite for you never subsides no matter how many times I fuck you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I need to focus on getting dressed.” I feign being upset.
“Honestly, those skin-tight jeans fit you so well, it makes me wonder if there’s any more room for anyone else to slide in.”
“By anyone else, do you mean you?” I ask, hopping on one foot to maintain my balance as I slide my right foot into my boot.
“Well, I am the only one here,” he says, taking a step towards me.
“Stop it right there, buddy.” I drop my left boot and raise my hand like a New York traffic cop. “You fucked me last night until I nearly passed out and after this morning’s round of toe-curling sex, I’m lucky I can walk without a limp. I’m so bruised you’d think I was involved in some sort of kinky underground sex ring, but you want more? You’ve said it yourself, the car is waiting and we can’t be late, my mom is a stickler for punctuality.”
There’s no end to this guy’s voracious energy.
“Are you mad I give you so much pleasure, love?”
I shake my head and bring my hands to my hips, ready to scorn him. After eighteen months of shitty sex, this is exactly what I needed. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I can call the car and ask the chauffeur to wait a few minutes for us to enjoy a quickie.”
“Please. You wouldn’t know how to spell the word with your nine-inch cock.” I grab his burgeoning erection and squeeze tight.
“Argh.”
“If you behave, I’ll let you pound me as many times as you want tonight,” I tease, tracing my index finger around his luscious lips.
“I have a feeling this is going to be another bloody long day.”
“Yeah, but you know it’s going to be worth it. Come on, let’s go.” I pull him by the lapel of his exquisitely cut sand-colored blazer.
Diego has invited Nikolaj and I to spend our last day in Barcelona with him and my mom at his home. I’m amazed at the chemistry between the four of us—it’s as if we’ve all known each other forever. We spend an enjoyable time chatting, debating, laughing and of course eating. Diego lives in a sprawling apartment with beautiful architectural bones, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city and a sophisticated décor sure to leave celebrity decorators in awe—it’s as if I’m flipping through the pages of the latest edition of Vogue Living.
I nearly pass out when we enter his kitchen and I notice to my surprise a modern lighting fixture with three smoky grey glass covers I designed years ago when I was first getting started with my business. My mom had told me a colleague of hers wanted to support me in my endeavor and gave me carte blanche to design anything I wanted based on a few photos of the room he wanted to update. I always wondered about the identity of the mysterious client who had scored such a massive kitchen in Manhattan and now I know it was Diego’s kitchen I was designing for.
I remember how nervous I was when it came time to submit my invoice for fear one of my first official paying clients wouldn’t like my design, but when I opened the envelope my mom had handed me, I knew I had finally landed in the right profession—after a few short-lived gigs as a sous-chef in some of the busiest kitchens in New York City, I had found my true vocation. I was over the moon when the anonymous client paid me three times the amount of the invoice. Diego might have lived on the sidelines during the time I was growing up, but I discover during my last day in Barcelona how many little coincidental things were his ways of watching over me.
The day ends on a melancholy note when it comes time for Nikolaj and I to return to the hotel. I knew it would be heart-wrenching to say goodbye to my mom, but I didn’t expect a pang of sadness to hit me when Diego embraces me to wish me a safe trip back to America. He’s such an eloquent speaker and I’m floored to see a tear roll down his face as he tries to tell me how proud he is of me—what a pivotal moment in our relationship.
When I wake up early the next morning, I fully expect to spend half of the morning walking around with a lump in my throat knowing Nikolaj will be returning to the Far Orient and I’ll be going back home. He must notice how pensive I am, because during breakfast he declares he won’t be able to leave me so soon and insists on making a detour so we can fly back together to New York in his private jet.
Once we land in New York, we rush to my place and lock ourselves in my bedroom. At some point during the evening, I have to ask him if he hasn’t secretly slipped into the bathroom to swallow a couple boxes of Cialis pills without telling me because his raging erection is like a starved animal.
I really should force him to sleep in the guest room, but how can I possibly resist his nine-inch cock?
God, how am I going to make it this week without seeing him?
BOOK 3—BROKEN
Chapter Six
I have to talk to the building management about redoing the lighting in these elevators because this tired face is scaring me.
Nikolaj made me come so many times last night I can barely walk and I look like I haven’t slept in days. Honestly, since the man landed in Barcelona, he’s been pounding me to the point of exhaustion, but since I can’t get enough of him, there’s no way I’ll refuse him.
My back is so sore. I don’t know if I can remain seated for long today. He banged me against every wall in my house and today I’m paying the price. He’s a machine.
Thank God for a venti latte from Café Du Jour or else I don’t think I could make it past ten am without crashing.
“Welcome back, Ciara.” Jody is always so chipper.
“Jody, have you been holding down the fort while I was gone?”
“Of course I have.” She beams, sitting straighter in her chair. “So…” Her eyes sparkle like a kid admiring the Rockefeller Center’s Christmas tree. “How was Mr. Echev? Is he single? Will he be coming back to New York any time soon?”
Down, girl. How can I break it gently to my receptionist who has a crush on my dad?
“Jody, the hot Spaniard is doing quite well. Alas, I did have an opportunity to meet his drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend. She’s as beautiful as a movie star. I’m afraid we don’t hold a chance. I was devastated when I found out he wasn’t single, so I’m sure it might take you a moment to process the news.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sad to hear he’s already taken. He’s a little bit older than my usual type—okay, I’m lying, he’s much older—but he’s adorable and those blue eyes are dreamy. I hope you still had a great time—even if he’s not single.” Jody winks.
“It was truly an exceptional trip,” I respond, winking back before heading into my office and closing the door behind me.
I sigh, reminiscing about my last bittersweet day in Barcelona. So much has changed in my life since I was last in this office. I drop my handbag on my cabinet.
How am I going to make it through this day without thinking about Nikolaj every three seconds?
I walk to my desk and stop the minute I see a small box. My pulse quickens when I catch a glimpse of the little white envelope sitting next to it. It simply reads in gold calligraphic font, My dearest Ciara.
No, he didn’t.
“Knock, knock. Ciara, how are you?”
I whirl around when my assistant opens the door. “Meghan, you startled me.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I wanted to let you know a box arrived for you about fifteen minutes ago. Could it be from Mr. Echev?” Meghan asks suggestively.
“I’m not sure yet. Why don’t you give me thirty minutes and we can
have a quick meeting to catch up,” I respond a little too mechanically.
I return my attention to the box when Meghan closes the door behind her. My palms are sweaty and my throat is dry.
Is this a gift from Diego or Nikolaj?
I hold my breath as I rip open the little envelope and unfold the card.
Good morning, sweetness.
The countdown is on. I’ll be back in Toronto in exactly six days. You’ll find in the box a first-class ticket so I can wrap my arms around you the second I land on North American soil. I’m not certain if our schedules will coordinate since I’m coming from afar and I don’t want you to wait around for me at the airport. I’m sending the keys I had with me—I have a spare set at home. When you arrive in Toronto, call a chauffeured car from the service I’ve listed below and when you get to my place, please make yourself at home—mi casa es tu casa. The fridge will be stocked with some of your favorites and my housekeeper should have bought plenty of wine. BTW, the keys are yours to keep, love. I know I could have handed them to you before I left this morning, but I’m sure the look on your face right now is priceless. Not to mention I’d hate to be predictable. I can’t wait to see you soon, Ciara. I already miss you like crazy, baby.
—Nikolaj
Oh. My. God.
It’s a simple set of keys, but it’s so meaningful to me. I can’t believe he’s ready to go there this fast. If this were any other guy, I would have already run away fearing things were moving way too quickly, but for some reason the cadence at which things are unfolding feels so right with Nikolaj.
* * *
The first day back in New York passes in a blur. The day is so packed and intense, I don’t have time to remember I miss Nikolaj more than words can say.
First I meet with my assistant, Meghan, for a debrief on what I missed. Then, after running around the city to meet with three new VIP clients who hired my firm to come up with kickass lighting designs for their luxury downtown offices, I head to West 56th Street for lunch with my sister. We already made plans to meet my dad for dinner later tonight, but the two of us wanted some one-to-one time after my mom dropped the big news that the sister I’ve known my entire life is my half-sibling.
In typical Sofia fashion, my big sister spends lunch sobbing and worrying about how things will change between us. I console her, reassuring her the only real change is the fact both of our parents have found true love. When I uttered those words I can’t blame her for nearly spitting out her red wine, since I’m the biggest skeptic when it comes to relationships and I doubt I would have said anything this sappy before Nikolaj.
The afternoon is as hectic as the morning, but I’m grateful for the distraction. I meet with the creative team working on concepts for the lighting scheme for Toronto’s Bishop boutique hotel. I’m so impressed with what they’ve come up with while I was away and I marvel at how far I’ve come. I still remember starting my company on my coffee table and I never imagined that I’d experience this level of success or that I’d be surrounded by such an outstanding group.
I’m so blessed.
Normally, I might have stayed late to catch up on emails, but by six o’clock, I call it quits and head over to my parents’ house to have dinner with my dad and sister.
Both Sofia and my dad are waiting for me when I arrive uptown. When my dad opens the door, I jump into his arms and he wraps me so tight I think he’ll never let me go. I’ve been on edge since leaving Barcelona, dreading this dinner, but from the warm welcome, I already know nothing has changed between me and the only father I’ve known until recently.
After two hours of comparing notes on the new family dynamics, my dad announces his fiancée Beverly will be coming over with a homemade dessert to officially meet my sister and I.
I’ve only left New York for four days, but with all the drama and revelations, it feels like it’s been a lifetime.
BOOK 3—BROKEN
Chapter Seven
The second day back could have easily been another long day of back-to-back meetings with nothing more to keep me going than a dinner home alone, had it not been for an invitation from my favorite blonde in the world—my best friend Harley.
She’s pissed off at me for sending her a few cryptic text messages suggesting I might really like Nikolaj and I’m willing to take things further with him. She demands an immediate intervention over drinks to get the full story and to make sure no one has swapped me for one of those women willing to get messy over a guy.
The last time I went out with her, we nearly caused a poor guy to have a heart attack because we were both so convincing in our roles as jealous lesbian lovers. I wonder what kind of trouble will find us tonight.
When I arrive at Raines Law Room, Harley is already flirting with a tall stylish black guy built like a basketball player. I can tell from the way he’s leaning into her he likes my sassy little blonde friend. Even from afar, I can see the lust in the guy’s eyes.
She can’t get enough of black men.
Watching him slip his business card down the revealing décolletage of her skin-tight oxblood-colored dress is a telltale sign she might find a convenient excuse to leave early to hook up later with this hunk.
I see why she suggested we meet at this funky neo lounge. She’s on the prowl for a new lover.
Once I’m able to peel her off of him, we find a quiet spot where I fill her in on every single detail, leaving nothing out. For an hour, I recount the events in my life since leaving the Big Apple. At some point during the evening, I’m so distracted by my phone Harley snatches it away from me and tucks it in her new designer handbag to prevent me from checking every two minutes to see if Nikolaj has texted me. Damn, I miss him so much.
I nearly choke on laughter when Harley’s eyes jump out of her skull when I tell her Nikolaj has given me the ultimate gift any man can give a girl—the keys to his rented house.
After three hours of chatting, laughing and rejoicing, I grab a cab and make my way home ready to crawl into a hot bath and curl up under my covers with my phone in hand waiting for Nikolaj to call.
I’m about to climb up the stairs to my brownstone home when a familiar voice comes from behind me. “The queen finally graces us with her presence.”
I turn around and I’m faced with the man I officially broke things off with before leaving for Barcelona.
“Christ, Dylan, you scared the hell out of me.”
“Why would you be scared? Aren’t I the guy you think you can walk all over?” He smirks. “Or have you already forgotten about me?”
God, I hate his annoying laugh. “Dylan, what are you doing here? Why are you hiding in the bushes?”
“You thought you had gotten rid of me when you broke up with me a few weeks ago in that stupid park. Was the Cubano sandwich my consolation prize, Ciara?”
“Dylan, you have it all wrong. I thought we talked it out in the park and we were on the same page.”
“I’ve been so miserable since you dumped me and I want you to see what you’ve done to me. I’m a fucking mess,” he slurs, taking a step closer.
“Are you drunk?”
“Of course I’m drunk, Ciara. You left me for another guy. There’s no other reason for you to end our relationship. You’re lying about it and you think I don’t see through your pathetic little game, but I do. Heck, your entire office is covering up for you, but I’m not falling for it.”
I can’t believe he’s called my office to check up on me.
“I love you, I want you back and I won’t take no for an answer.”
He moves in so quickly he catches me off guard and I step closer to the curb to avoid any contact with him.
“Were you away with your new lover? Was your prissy little office manager brushing me off to protect you?”
“What does my office have to do with any of this?”
“I’ve been keeping tabs on you and calling to find out when the big boss would be in. I even parked all last week in front of your swa
nky downtown office, but when I didn’t see you come in, I called your Miss Sunshine of a receptionist and she told me you were away.”
“Don’t you ever involve my staff in our personal dealings.” I point a finger at him.
Dylan grabs both my wrists and twirls me around before slamming my body against his parked Mercedes Benz SUV.
What the hell happened?
“What we had wasn’t a relationship and you know it. We were fucking,” I spit out defiantly.
“In other words, you used me for four months as a man whore you can discard at will? You allowed me to develop feelings for you, but you knew from the start you were going to dump my ass?” he rages.
Fuck. When you need a passerby, the streets are deserted.
“I wasn’t playing with your emotions, Dylan. Things weren’t working out between us,” I say in an attempt to calm him down and to get him away from me.
“You’re a pathetic liar, Ciara. I can see right through your charade.” The hatred in his eyes is unrecognizable. “I’m a great catch. Every woman in this city would be lucky to end up with a guy like me—I’m tall, rich, attractive, successful and I have a big dick.”
Yeah, but you don’t know how to use your seven-inch cock, you idiot. “Then why are you here? Go out there and find one of those desperate souls who’s dying to be with you and leave me alone,” I hiss, exasperated by his drunken tirade.
He presses his entire weight against me, forcing me to part my lips as his tongue searches for mine.
Fuck, he’s so heavy.
“No. I said no.”
His breath reeks of booze and I’m nauseated by his closeness. I try to fight him off in vain. He’s a fit and athletic guy and no matter how many hours I spend at the gym, I’ll never be a match. I struggle against him, but his grip is tight. Too tight. Damn, he’s hurting me.
His leg is pressing against mine, making it impossible for me to yank up my knee and hurt him where it counts. This was not the best day to wear these five-inch heels and this pencil skirt.
Broken Page 6
