Our Love Story
An MMFMM Romance
Frankie Love
Copyright © 2020 by Frankie Love
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
About the Author
Chapter One
Chloe
Jordan is a smooth talker.
He had to be, considering he convinced me to go with him, on his private jet, to Jamaica, as a graduation gift. I’ve only known him for four weeks, yet he talked me into putting all my worldly possessions in a storage locker, even though I have no plans for what would happen after our trip.
There’s already a lot of pressure on tonight. I know what Jordan expects, but right now I just don’t feel ready.
And I know that isn’t going to make him happy.
But ever since we got on his jet today, he’s been predatory … no longer the romantic who gave me flowers before every date, the sweetheart who told me it was okay to take things slow. Suddenly he’s eyeing me like a piece of meat.
Before I give him my body, I need some reassurance.
As if he’s able to read my mind, he crosses the bedroom of the condo where we’re staying. “I just wanted to tell you something, Chloe. And I’ve been waiting for the right time to say it.”
I smile, wanting tonight to be perfect. I slip off my shoes, and walk toward him.
He takes my hands and says, “This last month has been incredible. And I want this trip to be a dream come true for both of us. The truth is, I love you, Chloe.”
My eyes widen. It’s not that I don’t believe that love can blossom in a month … but when he says the words, they sound hollow.
Stiff.
Memorized.
“Love?” My voice reveals my surprise. “You think you love me?”
Jordan’s eyes flash with anger. “That’s how you’re going to answer?”
“Well…” I falter, biting my bottom lip. “I mean, it’s a big deal. I’ve never said those words to someone before.”
“And you think I have?” Jordan shakes his head.
“I don’t know. I mean, you’re Jordan Connors, a billionaire CEO. You could have anyone.”
“But I want you.” He reaches for me, and I flinch, not even knowing why. He’s never hurt me, and maybe I’m acting crazy to doubt his love. Honestly, I have next to no experience with giving my heart to anyone.
Jordan is pissed. He raises his hands in anger. “Look, I need to cool down. I’m gonna go find some fucking ice. I got us champagne, you know, for our celebration?”
He leaves in a huff and I sit on the edge of the bed, hands clasped in my lap, wondering if I just ruined everything.
Then a phone starts buzzing. It isn’t mine, and I look around, seeing Jordan’s on the dresser. Twisting my lips, I consider looking at it.
There have been little red flags all month … but I keep squashing them because the idea of having someone looking out for me is so appealing.
I’ve been on my own forever.
His phone buzzes again.
I trust Jordan, don’t I?
I must not, because the next thing I know I’m looking at his lock screen, entering the four-digit password I’ve seen him use countless times. I press Messages, and see the newest one.
Hey baby. My pussy is so wet for you. Come home and lick it like you did last night.
Oh shit.
This was a bad idea. Those words were not mine.
I click off the text. Then see another woman’s name. I can’t resist.
It’s been three days since we made love … I miss you. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours….
After which is a series of close ups of her lady-parts.
I blink back tears.
I’m such a fool.
I hear the front door open and I drop the phone. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to erase what I just saw.
I can’t believe I was about to give Jordan my virginity.
He comes in carrying a bucket of ice. “Hey love, no more fighting. You all ready to make this a night to remember?” he asks, leaning in for a kiss.
I pull back. “I can’t do this, Jordan.”
“What are you talking about, Chloe?” He pushes his lips forward, his slicked back hair suddenly repulsive. “Did my confession scare you?”
“It’s not that. It’s you.”
“Why do you think I brought you here, anyway?” His voice is cold and calculating.
I shake my head. “No, Jordan, I don’t want—”
He storms around the room, hands flying in the air, livid. His face is red, he’s lost his cool, but that’s not my problem. I don’t owe him anything. Just because he brought me on this lavish vacation doesn’t mean I’m required to pay him back with my virginity.
Especially not now.
Now that I know I am nothing to him but a present he wants to unwrap.
“It’s not going to happen, Jordan. I told you, I’ve waited my entire life, and I want the moment to feel right, and this feels...”
Forced.
Rushed.
Wrong.
Not the memory I want.
And I already have a lifetime of bad memories. I need this one to be good.
Perfect.
Am I putting a lot of expectation on one experience? Maybe.
But there has been so much in my life I haven’t had control over.
This one thing, I do.
“There’s no such thing as a perfect first time. You’re holding your virginity over me like it’s a goddamn prize.”
“I know you’ve been cheating on me, Jordan. I looked at your phone. I know I don’t mean anything to you. You tricked me.”
As I cross my arms, fuming at his complete disrespect, he grabs my passport from my purse and starts shredding it.
“You want to play games with me? Fine. Then I’ll play games with you.”
I try and pry it from him, but he shrugs me off. I don’t want to get hurt, so I stand there, watching in shock as he takes
my wallet and pulls my ID from it.
Grabbing the pair of scissors from the desk he quickly cuts it, along with all my credit cards. They fall in pieces to the carpet.
With a flash, I know that this man is more than a cheater—he is crazy. And I need to get away from him. Now.
I reach for my cash, but he pulls it from my fingers and starts ripping it, flushing it down the toilet. That’s when I start to feel more than rejected.
I’m terrified.
“Jordan, stop,” I demand, reaching for his arm as he continues to rip the last of my cash.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Chloe.” He looks at me with disgust, his lip pulled back in a snarl and I can’t believe I ever kissed him. “I’m the only man who’s ever even wanted you. You thought I liked you because you read books and graduated with honors?” He snorts. “I’m a businessman, I don’t need a smart girl. I just wanted you because you’re a virgin. But now that I’ve gotten to know you, I bet your cunt is as dried up as your heart.”
“I’m not… dried up.”
Jordan laughs coldly. “Actually, you are. If you had any soul at all, Chloe, you wouldn’t have spent the last month being a dick tease. You keep promising me a fuck, yet give me nothing in return for my affection.”
I shake my head, blinking back tears, not wanting to cry in front of him.
“Get out of here, you little whore, and take your shriveled-up pussy with you.”
He holds open the door to the oceanfront condo that he rented for us.
“Are you seriously kicking me out? Without any money or my passport or a phone? Jordan, I know you’re—”
But he shoves me the rest of the way out the door before slamming it shut.
I hear the lock click
He kicked me out.
I stare at the closed door, incredulously.
Did Jordan seriously just leave me barefoot and stranded in Jamaica?
Chapter Two
Chloe
I don’t know what to do, but I certainly don’t want to go back to Jordan. The only way he’ll let me in is if I give him my body and I’m definitely not doing that now.
I can’t believe I trusted him enough to let him bring me here. My judgment feels a mess, what kind of woman am I? I shouldn’t have let him sweep me off my feet. I should have stayed grounded and looked for a job, and not believed that a man with money and prestige would love an orphan like me.
No, I tell myself. I’m not going down that road. I’m not going to be a victim, and I’m certainly not going to act like any of this is my fault. Jordan is a jerk. I met him when I applied for a bookkeeping job at his company, and when he asked me out, I didn’t know he was the owner.
I let him take me to lunch, and then gave him four weeks of my undivided attention. All at a time when I should have been focused on getting a job. Now I’ve graduated, and since I lived on campus all four years of college, I am officially homeless.
Jordan had told me he would help me find a place to live when we got home from this trip.
I am such a fool.
A homeless fool.
I look around the condo complex, remembering that when we checked in earlier the place was unseasonably empty. I walk toward the main office and see that the hours are 9 to 5. It’s after eleven o’clock at night now. No one’s here. I bite my knuckles, feeling lost. Feeling stuck. Not knowing where to go.
I may be a virgin, but I’m not an idiot. I can’t just stand on the sidewalk all night. Besides, I don’t want Jordan to come out and see me, or he might start yelling at me again.
And I also don’t want to face the fact that he might not come looking for me at all.
My eyes sting, hot tears threatening to escape.
Don’t cry, Chloe, you’ve been through worse than this.
I grew up in foster care; my mom left me with social services when I was seven. She stopped wanting to parent me... and my dad? Never knew the man. I was undernourished and never loved. My ability to trust people, wrecked... But I had hope that one day someone, somewhere, would care about me.
That is why, when Jordan showed me attention, I ate it up.
I craved it.
I wanted it so badly; wanted someone to take care of me. The truth is, I’ve been on my own ever since I aged out of the system. I got through college on a scholarship—which was wonderful—but it didn’t give me a family.
Didn’t give me a support system.
And I’ve been able to take care of myself. The safety of the college campus helped me keep my life in order. I haven’t needed anyone else before now, to be perfectly honest.
But that self-sufficiency was easier when I had a passport and a credit card. Things I need in order to get home.
Maybe I can walk to town and find the police station. Surely, they will force Jordan to give me my belongings back.
Not that I know which direction to go. Or, I could go to the US Embassy. Of course, I can do that. They will help me get home.
But it’s pitch dark out and it’s so late. I think of all the crime statistics I read about before I came here with Jordan.
A young woman walking around aimlessly at night without any trace of identification or money? It’s like asking to be kidnapped.
Or worse.
I can’t exactly walk down the highway like this either, I look down at myself; I’m barefoot and wearing nothing but a flimsy sundress.
I head toward the beach, thinking maybe I can find a tree to nestle under for the night, and then when the sun comes up, I can make my way into town and start looking for help.
As I walk to the beach, I look over my shoulder and see that the lights of the condo where Jordan and I were staying are still on.
I can’t believe he did this to me. What kind of man throws a woman out late at night in a foreign country?
A sicko, that’s what kind.
A sicko I was so close to giving my virginity to. Apparently, my ability to judge a man’s character is way off. I should have spent time in college dating instead of only studying.
I’m walking along the beach, lost, and looking up at the stars, when the tears start to fall.
I told myself that I could be brave and strong, but with the water lapping at my feet, an empty sky above, I feel so alone in the world.
Just like I’ve felt so many times before.
I’ve never had anyone I could rely on except for myself. It’s exhausting. I just wish I had someone who would take care of me, truly look out for me.
What I want is a man who wants to protect me, make sure that I’m okay. Keep me safe.
I don’t think those sorts of men exist.
I find a palm tree and sit beneath it, my back against the trunk. It’s scratchy and cold. I know this is a tropical island, but by now it’s probably after midnight and my arms are covered in goosebumps. I bury my head in my hands and that’s when the sobs I’ve held back begin to flow freely.
I imagine my cries washing across the shore, and I wish that a fairy godmother would hear them, would come rescue me.
In my fantasy, someone would walk into my life and take away all my problems. But that’s not reality, is it?
The reality is I’m all alone in this world... Without a job or a house. Hell, now I’m without a driver’s license or a cell phone, thanks to Jordan. Is it too much to dream for that the sky would open up and a genie would come down and give me three wishes?
Resting my arms on my knees, I let my head drop as I try to contain my sobs. I’m doing a pretty poor job of it because I’m crying so loudly I don’t even hear them come up.
But the next thing I know, someone touches my arm, causing my heart to jump in surprise.
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asks.
I blink, looking up at the guy kneeling before me. He has wavy brown hair and a week’s worth of stubble, I can see it in the moonlight, and his eyes are filled with concern. “What are you doing out here alone?”
Behind him, another voice calls
out, “Mason? You there?”
“I’m over here, Enzo,” Mason says.
Another man jogs over to us, crouching next to his friend. This man, Enzo, wears a sweatshirt and has closely cropped black hair, a chiseled jaw and strong eyebrows. Both of them are beyond handsome, and the light from the stars above shines down on them both.
Maybe there is such a thing as a magic genie after all.
“Oh, bella,” Enzo says frowning. “What in the world are you doing out here crying? Need me to take your pain away?”
I bite my bottom lip. Where did these men come from?
“Give it a rest, Enzo. Can’t you see she’s in pain?”
Enzo nods. “I know, I know. But bambino,” he says to me. “Why are you crying?”
I sniffle, wiping my eyes with my palms. “I just... I had a really bad night.”
“Where are you staying? Let us walk you back home to make sure you get there safe. You really shouldn’t be out here alone at night. A lot of homeless people make camp on the beach, and I’d hate for you to find yourself somewhere you don’t want to be,” Mason says.
My throat constricts. How do I tell these men that there is no home?
There is nowhere for me to go?
They must notice that I’m on the verge of tears again because Mason starts talking in a gentle voice. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Take your time.” He rubs my back in small circles as if knowing exactly how to comfort me,
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