The grin slips from my face when I’m immediately hit with a beep and a computerized voice informing me the line has been disconnected. What the fuck?
Ryder lifts a brow, and I slowly lower the phone, ending the call. “Something isn’t right,” I say.
He shakes his head like he feels sorry for me, the bastard. “You keep telling yourself that, man. It’s like I told you, she lured you in for a good fuck, then raked in the dough. Bet you that number wasn’t even real to begin with.”
That’s when that nagging thought clicks into place. I push back from the table, no longer interested in lunch. I don’t have time for it, anyway. I have a princess to woo.
“What are you doing, man?” Ryder asks, confused. “You owe me ten grand.”
I point at him. “That’s what you think. I’m going back to that club.”
“What? Why? To toss out more of your money on a piece of ass? Shit, just give it to me instead.”
I shake my head, a smile spreading across my face in spite of this fucker’s mocking. “Sapphire wasn’t playing me for money. Not at all. She never took any.”
Not a fucking cent. Which can only mean one thing. Everything about last night was just as real for her as it was for me.
Time to go claim my woman.
12
Ella
Climbing the last of the stairs leading to my apartment, I huff out a breath. Not only did I just put in a killer workout at the gym, but I climbed ten flights of stairs to top it off.
I unlock my door and walk in, dropping my gym bag by the door and heading to the kitchen for a cold bottle of water. I pushed myself hard today, trying to work off some of my lingering tension. That always makes for a good workout, and I pride myself on staying in the best shape. It’s part of the job, after all.
I grimace as it hits me all over again. I have no job. No work to do. I’m going to have to get out there and start all over again, working my way up from the bottom to reach the top spot in a brand new club.
A frustrated groan falls from my lips. I don’t want to work in a brand new club. I want to work in the best club. But that’s no longer an option.
Grabbing my laptop, I carry it into my room and sink down on my bed. At least my apartment is paid for. One of the perks of leveraging my talents into fat stacks of cash over the years. It’s nice, too.
With a few clicks, I pull up the cloud that stores my information from my phone. I scan through the contacts, disappointed that I didn’t add Derek’s number. What if he tried to call? I can’t check my voicemail remotely, so I have no way of knowing.
I have no idea how I’ll get in contact with him again now. But I want to let him know I won’t be back at the club. What if he goes back there looking for me? What if someone else snags him and tries to keep him for themselves?
I want to believe that what happened last night was special. But I don’t even really know him. I mean, fuck, I didn’t even know he was a prince! What makes me think that what happened between us meant anything to him?
Still, in my heart, I know it had to. Experiences like that don’t just come along every day. It’s like his body was made for mine.
My pussy throbs with the memory of it. God, his cock felt so good. So big and thick and long as he slammed into me over and over again, making me cum harder than I ever have in my entire life.
A moan slips from my lips as my pussy clenches tight like a vise, but I feel hollow and empty, needing his cock there to fill me up.
Images of our night together flash through my mind. I miss him so much already. I need him again.
Closing my eyes, I set my laptop aside and let my fingers trail down to my tits, rubbing them lightly through the fabric of my workout clothes. My nipples are instantly hard, puckered and aching. I bite my lip as I remember how it felt to have his hands and mouth on them.
Pretending it’s him, I pull my tits from my bra, letting the spandex fabric push them up and together. They’re so big and round I can actually get my nipples in my mouth. Cupping them in my palms, I squeeze them together, lifting them up until my hard, pink nipples are in front of my lips. My tongue darts out, flicking the sensitive flesh until I’m moaning, my breath coming in quick, desperate gasps.
More. I need more.
Wriggling out of my shorts, I toss them aside and run a hand down my stomach, the other still playing with my tits.
“Derek,” I moan, imagining it’s his fingers that tease the top of my inner thighs, barely brushing against my aching pussy.
My hips buck up involuntarily, my body needing to cum. I swipe my fingers through my soaked folds, still light and teasing, driving myself crazy with desire and white-hot need.