Break Up with Him, for Me: A ‘Friends to Lovers’ Romance

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Break Up with Him, for Me: A ‘Friends to Lovers’ Romance Page 22

by G. , Whitney


  I swallowed as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and kissed me again, as he whispered, “Get on your knees.”

  I obliged, sinking my knees into the hotel room’s plush red carpet.

  He didn’t let his grip on my hair go, he tightened it. “Take out my cock”

  I reached up and unbuckled his belt. Then I pulled it through the loops of his pants and let it fall to the floor.

  Unbuttoning his pants with my fingers, I leaned forward and bit his silver zipper with my teeth, pulling it down.

  I took my time as he watched me, and I watched him.

  “Fuck…” He looked somewhat impressed.

  Sliding my hands into the top of his briefs, I pushed down the fabric until his thick cock was staring me in the face.

  I kissed the tip of it, swirling my tongue around it in circles. Using my hand to rub up and down his length, I stared at the veins that swelled with my touch.

  “Keep your eyes on me,” he said. “I want to look at you as you take it down your throat.”

  I looked up and opened my mouth as wide as it could go, taking him in inch by inch, holding back my tongue as I adjusted to his girth.

  I sucked it hard and moved back, slowly pacing myself to take another inch.

  Without warning, he gently guided my head forward and then back. Forward and then back.

  “Like this,” he said, staring at me. “Like you know there’s no place better for my cock than your hot mouth.”

  I couldn’t even nod. My mouth was too full of him.

  I pressed my hands against his thighs to balance myself, and then I slowly began establishing my own rhythm. And then he slowly stopped having to guide me.

  “Fuck…” He groaned as I took him in deeper, faster. In between taking him inside, I used my right hand to tease him.

  His breathing slowed, and I felt his body stiffen against me.

  While his eyes were still on mine, he whispered, “Let me come in your mouth…”

  I said, “Yes,” with my gaze, and he grabbed a fistful of my hair again. I took him deep into my mouth—as far as I could go, and the next thing I felt was his warm cum shooting past my lips.

  I stilled as the saltiness sat on my tongue.

  Then I swallowed.

  Smiling at me, he grabbed my hands and pulled me up. He pressed a kiss against my cheek and positioned me on the bed so that my legs were hanging over the edge.

  “Let me pay you for that.” He kissed my thigh.

  He slid a hand between my thighs and swirled his thumb around my clit.

  “Wait!” I gasped and sat up.

  “What’s wrong?” He pressed a kiss on my shoulder, looking completely unfazed.

  “I think we should get dressed and take this upstairs to your room.”

  His lips curved into a smile. “Why is that, Penelope?”

  “Because some of my brother’s entourage is next door and they might hear us.”

  “Then try not to scream.” He pushed me back down, rendering me useless with the skills of his mouth.

  Thirty Five

  Present Day

  Penelope

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  “Is it me, or does your brother look a bit more psychotic than usual?” Tatiana whispered to my left. “Something’s off with him.”

  I looked up from the floor as he danced in his corner of the ring.

  “I don’t see any difference,” I said, noticing the same fire that’d been in his eyes since he was sixteen. “He looks focused.”

  “If you say so.” She shrugged. “By the way, a brand-new, designer wardrobe was delivered to our suite last night, but since you weren’t there, and your boyfriend can afford to buy you another one, I’m keeping it for myself.”

  I laughed. “Noted.”

  “Ladies and gentlemennnn!” The announcer stood at the center of the ring, yelling into the mic. “Welcome to UFC Fight 1234 between Travis ‘The Punisher’ Carter, the undefeated, undisputed welterweight champion and the challenger, Christopher ‘Red Eye’ Juarez!”

  Screams filled the arena. The lights above flashed in an array of reds and blues.

  “This match is five rounds,” he said. “The winner will be determined by judges in the event that there isn’t a TKO. If you’d like to touch gloves out of respect, do so now.”

  My brother didn’t make a move.

  The announcer looked surprised at that, but he focused on the crowd. “Let’s fight!”

  The referee took his place in the ring—going over the rules one more time, and I braced myself for an ongoing saga of brutal wear and tear.

  My brother attacked Juarez the moment the bell rang, punching him straight in the face.

  He didn’t falter, though.

  He returned the jabs to my brother’s shoulders, kicking him in the legs whenever he couldn’t quite connect.

  My brother smiled with glee as he punched Juarez in the throat, right as the first round came to an end.

  “I wish he’d retire,” I whispered to Tatiana as the crowd roared.

  “I don’t see why.” She tilted her head to the side. “I take back what I said about him earlier. Your brother is hot as fuck.”

  “You’re dead to me.”

  She laughed. “I’m just saying. Do you know if he has any cock pics out in the world?”

  I swallowed before bile could rise up my throat.

  The bell sounded for round two, and I leaned against Hayden’s shoulder.

  He smiled and clasped my hand.

  My brother bobbed and weaved between Juarez’s attempts to strike, but one of the left punches actually landed on his face. Hard.

  Then Juarez landed another one.

  And another.

  The crowd collectively gasped as Travis stumbled backward.

  I jumped to my feet as his head hit the mat with a sickening thud. Blood spewed from his lips.

  Juarez moved over him, punching him in the face repeatedly until the referee pushed him away and called the match.

  There was a stunned silence in the arena. Everyone held their breath in confusion, but then wild, raucous applause broke out amongst the fans.

  Juarez strutted around the ring and blew kisses to the crowd.

  My heart dropped to the floor.

  I’d watched Travis conquer his opponents time and time again; I’d never once had to witness him in defeat.

  In a state of shock, I rushed over to the side of the ring, waiting for him to move, but he was out cold. The bleeding was getting worse.

  Medics surrounded him, and I grabbed onto the rope.

  “Travis!” I yelled louder. “Travis, get up!”

  “He’ll be alright, Pen.” Hayden pressed his hand against the small of my back. “Come on.”

  I screamed his name again anyway, wanting to watch until the medics got him up, but Hayden pulled me away.

  Several hours later

  “Juarez is on fucking steroids.” Travis seethed from the hospital bed. “I want him tested for drugs, Shaw. I want him tested tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.” His manager nodded, and his entourage of yes-men remained silent on the other side of the room.

  “Mr. Carter?” A nurse held out a tray of pills. “Can you—“

  “Get the fuck away from me, please.” He glared at her. “I’ll heal myself.”

  Her cheeks reddened and she rushed out of the room.

  “It’s not her fault you lost,” I said softly.

  “It damn sure isn’t mine.” He glared at me. “I’m fucking undefeated. This bullshit match doesn’t count, and it’ll be wiped away the moment everyone knows the truth about him being on drugs.”

  I bit my tongue.

  “How the fuck does some scrawny ass kid from the middle of nowhere beat a fucking champion?”

  I’m sure your first opponents thought the same thing …

  “I don’t think he was on steroids, Travis,” I said.

  “He was, and he is.” He attempted to glare at m
e, but his face was too fucked up for it to have the full effect. “I’ll never make the mistake of pacing in a match again. Now that I think about it, I remember telling you to start every routine with an attack when you were skating.”

  “Funny, I remember you hardly ever showing up for me when I was skating.”

  “What’s that, Crown?”

  I didn’t answer him. I’d already gotten away with more than usual.

  Hayden suddenly stepped into the room, handing him an energy drink and a bag of Cheetos from a vending machine.

  “Here you go,” he said. “Need me to get you anything else?”

  “Yeah, I want you to fly Crown away from Vegas,” he said. “Distract her with something she actually understands.”

  What the fuck? “My reservation is for the rest of the week, Travis. I’d like to stay and enjoy it.”

  “I don’t want her here anymore. Take her and Tatiana on to a beach or something,” he said. “I’ll pay you back for whatever that costs.”

  “There’s no need to talk about me like I’m not standing right in front of you.”

  “Oh, and keep checking out her new boyfriend for me.” He ignored me like I was seventeen all over again. Like he made all the decisions, and I had to willingly accept the aftermath. “Maybe we can all get brunch sometime after I get Juarez’s drug test back. You can help me with this, right?”

  Hayden didn’t bother answering him.

  Travis’s requests were always rhetorical.

  Right as I was about to tell Travis that he deserved to get his ass beat—that a part of me was happy his ego received a healthy dose of defeat, Hayden clasped my hand.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of Vegas.”

  “Thank you, Hayden.” Travis shot me a ‘Fucking try me’ look as we left.

  Hayden held onto my hand until we made it downstairs and through the waiting press. He led me over to a waiting town car and pulled me into his lap once the doors shut.

  “We’re really leaving Vegas tonight?” I asked. “Just because he said so?”

  “Fuck no,” he said, smiling. “We’ll stay here as long as you want.”

  “Promise?”

  “Always.” He controlled my mouth with kisses until we made it back to the hotel suite.

  For the next five days, he did everything in his power to make me forget all about tonight.

  He ordered room service and explored my body—giving more than he took, holding me in his arms every time I collapsed from the pleasure.

  Thirty Six

  Present Day

  A week later

  Hayden

  “I hope that smile on your face is because you’re seconds away from handing over the last bulk of your apology letters, son.” Lawrence looked up at me from his desk Monday morning.

  “It’s because I’m taking the rest of the week off.”

  “That’s fine,” he said. “It’ll be nice to give the photogs a well-served break. Hand over the rest of the apology letters that I asked you for.”

  “I’m taking Penelope to Bora Bora for a few days. Then we’re going to Aspen.”

  “I don’t care.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Letters. Now.”

  “I’ll need you and Sarah to keep me up to date on the Tinder thing while I’m away.”

  “The ‘Tinder thing’ is a multi-million dollar lawsuit and they are beyond determined to fry your ass this time.” He leaned back in his chair. “Would you like to write Mr. Lassing an apology letter to see if he’ll drop it?”

  “I’ll consider writing his letter after I get back.” I smiled. “That’s when I’ll pen the others. I’ll see you then.”

  “Hayden fucking Hunter.” He stood up from his desk as I walked away. “Hayden get back here right now!”

  I made it onto the elevator before he could come after me.

  When I made it downstairs, I slid behind the wheel of my car.

  “How did Lawrence take it?” Penelope smiled at me.

  “He was totally fine.”

  “So, he’s mad as hell?”

  “Yep.” I sped toward the airport, and she laughed. I clasped her hand behind the gear shift as I drove.

  “I don’t want this to ever end, Hayden,” she said.

  “It won’t,” I said. “This is just our beginning.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Thirty-Six (B)

  Present Day

  Hayden

  * * *

  Hayden Hunter Jets Away with Friend As Tinder Case Heats Up

  * * *

  Was Hayden Hunter Trolling Us with His Apologies?

  * * *

  Simon Gaines of the Simon G. Fund Under Fire for Alleged Fraud

  * * *

  Hayden Hunter Spotted at Private Aspen Resort with Friend

  Thirty Seven

  PRESENT DAY

  Hayden

  Why didn’t we cross the line years ago?

  Dating Penelope was the best thing I’d ever experienced in my life, and I now understood why she’d so desperately chased this euphoric high.

  My days started and ended with her taste on my lips, her laughter against my chest, and conversations that I never wanted to end.

  Our nightly strolls through Central Park were slowly trickling onto the smaller gossip blog sites via “Is Hayden Hunter Dating His Best Friend?” and “Is it Me, or Are They A Bit Too Close in These Pics?” type of posts, but there was nothing more.

  And I honestly didn’t care.

  I was in love with her.

  Occasionally, she’d still say, “Please don’t ever hurt me,” and “I don’t have anyone else if I don’t have you,” when we spoke for a little too long, but I was determined to make her never worry about us breaking up again.

  Armed with roses and wine, I stepped out of my car and walked up the steps to her brownstone. I wasn’t sure what came over me this afternoon, but I’d gotten up in the middle of a meeting and headed straight toward her side of town.

  Walking into her kitchen, I pulled out a few wine glasses. Then I checked to make sure the catering would arrive before she came home from the rink.

  As I was rinsing off the stems, Tatiana cleared her throat.

  “You want to join us for dinner?” I asked. “I ordered Italian.”

  “No, I’ll pass. I’d rather know how the fuck you live with yourself.” The harshness of her voice made me turn around.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard what I said.” She glared at me from across the room. “Are you happy holding Penelope back? Do you get some sick thrill out of it?”

  I think I liked you better when you hated Penelope. “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.”

  “It must be nice to achieve everything you’ve ever wanted in life, huh?” She continued her one-sided conversation. “I bet you don’t have any regrets because the world laid out the red carpet for you, and you’ve never had to face anyone ripping it from under your feet.”

  “You know, I vaguely remember you playfully swinging a bat at Penelope’s knees at a competition years ago,” I said. “Do I need to find that video and blackmail you into talking like a normal person again?”

  “I’m being serious, asshole.” She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “Bora, Bora, Aspen, Hawaii. What’s next?”

  “The Dominican Republic.” I crossed my arms. “I invited you to join us for all these trips.”

  “Yeah, and you purposely threw in little hints at your gala about ‘Twenty-seven still being great,’ right?” She shook her head. “I’m sure you thought that was a nice, warm touch. So, let me ask you something. When’s the last time Penelope went to the rink and worked with a client?”

  I shrugged. I honestly couldn’t remember.

  “When’s the last time she gave a speech or did anything outside of flying around the world and fucking you?”

  I said nothing, unsure of where she was going with this.
<
br />   “You know her better than I ever will—and everyone who’s ever been around you two knows that.” Tears fell down her face. “Which is why I don’t understand why you’re being so fucking blind about standing in the way of what she’s chased her entire life.”

  “Tatiana—”

  “Her entire life.” She interrupted me. “I may have hated her for years, but I’ve always respected what she was trying to do. And I think she would’ve done it if she never fell. But she has a chance to make it now, and she’s giving it all up for you.”

  “I’m honestly lost as hell,” I said. “Can you tell me what you’re talking about?”

  She walked over to a drawer and pulled out two letters, handing them to me.

  “The president of U.S. Figure Skating sent me a letter this morning, saying that Penelope nominated me to go in her place to help coach Team USA in Salt Lake City for the Winter Games.”

  I raised my eyebrow. Penelope hadn’t uttered a word about this, and I refused to believe that this was true.

  I opened the first envelope, the one for Tatiana.

  “You’ve been highly recommended by Penelope Carter…”

  I tucked it back into its envelope and opened the other. Then I flipped it over and saw that she’d received this weeks ago. It was timestamped for the week of my gala.

  She never said a word about this to me.

  “She watches her old performances in secret every night,” she said. “Well, before she was traveling off with you anyway. I haven’t been living with her for that long, but I’ve never seen someone watch all of their perfect performances and say, ‘Too bad I never surpassed my mom like I promised. I really wish I would’ve…’ And then she cries as if somehow her career was a fucking failure.”

 

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