I grip the soft flesh above her hip with my free hand, digging my fingers in. I increase my speed, my cock swelling. I struggle to follow my own command to keep quiet. I can't count how many partners I have had in the past twenty years, but this…this is different. I grind my teeth as I drive in and out, nearing the point of no return. I almost stop just to prove to myself that this is nothing—means nothing. But Denielle's cunt has other plans. She tenses around me as I tug on her hair once more, and this time, she doesn't stifle the moan. The sounds coming out of her as she milks my cock are too much. I squeeze her hip, and her moan turns to a whimper. I'm leaving marks for her to remember later how she submitted to me.
Two more thrusts, and I can't hold back. I drive forward, lifting Denielle onto her tiptoes with the sudden explosive movement. Her ass and hips roll as I thrust, my cock pressing into the limits of her body deep inside.
Stars explode behind my closed eyelids, and I still, letting the overstimulation of all senses overpower me. I groan as the last wave racks through me, and my knees threaten to buckle. I don't want to admit to myself that this is one of the best orgasms I've ever had. I can't. Not with her.
My throat burns as a bitter taste settles on my tongue. Regret is setting in, and I'm still balls deep inside of her.
I withdraw and pull my jeans back up. I tuck my still-hard, pulsing length into my briefs as my body continues to betray the thoughts that have already entered my mind.
I don't bother fastening the button before I pivot and exit the room, leaving Denielle there, holding on to the shelves, gasping, with my cum dripping out of her.
CHAPTERELEVEN
DENIELLE
The heatof the water scorches my skin. I've been under the spray for so long that my fingers and toes are pruned to the point that I doubt they'll ever recover.
What did I do?
This day turned from bad to unsalvageable.
I'd been workingmy ass off since I started my new job last Thursday: getting acquainted with how Denis runs things, meeting the girls working at the showroom, finding my place at La Déesse, and avoiding my BFF, to an extent.
I lost it last week when Rhys mentioned my coffee date with Charlie. As soon as he spoke his name, Kelly's face flashed in front of me, visions of her being submerged underwater, fighting to flee the confinement of her car. Charlie informed me the medical examiner concluded she was unconscious when her car filled with water. Nonetheless, my mind came up with its own version, soon replacing Kelly with— I couldn't breathe. The need to run pulsated through my body, and the more I attempted to stay and explain myself to my friends, the harder it became to supply my lungs with oxygen. Saliva began to pool in my mouth, and my stomach clenched. I couldn't form the words. The pictures flashed faster and faster in front of my mind's eye. Charlie and me in high school—happy. Tracking him down at the frat orgy—cheating. The sorrow on Kelly's face the last time I saw her when she dropped off the things I had left at their house. Her driving. Kelly going through the side rail, her car plummeting toward the water. Kelly's face morphed to my mother's—submerged underwater, her dark hair fanning around her. A visual I've suppressed for years. A wave of nausea racked through me. I raced out of the kitchen and locked myself in my room.
Needing to turn it off, I did the only thing I could think of. I filled the claw-foot tub in my room to the rim. Eyeing the shimmering surface, I propped myself on the side and stepped one foot into it, then the other. The water reached right underneath my knees. Fully clothed, I sat down. My drenched shorts and shirt weighed me down in a way that allowed me to pretend I had sunk to the bottom of a pool.
The tub was a decent size for being freestanding but not large enough to comfortably support my five feet, seven inches, which is why I hadn't used it for mytherapyuntil now. I draped my legs over the edge, letting the water drip from my feet onto the white-tiled floor, my upper body automatically submerged. It didn't give me the floating sensation I would get in a pool, but all I wanted was the burn. Pushing my limits. Making it stop. I blinked my eyes open, staring up at the blurred ceiling above me.
I stayed like this until my lungs were spasming and forced me to surrender. I repeated my ritual until my mind was numb from exhaustion, and, only wrapped in a towel, I fell into a dreamless sleep on top of my mattress.
As soon as I woke, I dressed in workout clothes and headed to the gym to exercise—my new way of turning it off. Thankfully, I didn't run into Marcus that night. I couldn't have held my own against him.
The next day, Lilly tried once to ask me about my meeting with Charlie, but I just murmured that I needed time to process while chugging my entire mug of coffee, not to have to respond further. Whether she accepted my reply or just indulged me remains to be seen. She could figure out where I was, given that all her cars were supplied with trackers.
Fast forward totoday's disaster.
I'd been taking Lilly's G-Wagon to work. It allowed me the freedom to come and go when I wanted. Not knowing how long I had to stay at the boutique, Lilly didn't try having one of her guys chauffeur me. I would get my own mode of transportation as soon as I saved up enough—not that Lilly cared. But I wanted to start fresh on my own and with no one's (financial) help. Be one-hundred-percent independent for the first time in my life.
With Collin arriving in LA early Monday morning, Denis and I met Sunday and went over the designs he planned toloanLiberman for their fall collection. The sketches were breathtaking, and when Denis asked me for my input on the fabrics, I couldn't stop the grin that stretched across my face. Phyllis had never asked for my opinion.
Needing the time to prepare myself, I arrived two hours early. I'd refused to take Collin's calls for weeks, ignored his emails, and blocked him on social media.
Maybe taking this job was a bad idea.
La Déesse didn't open until eleven on Mondays, which allowed me to hide in my office while one of the salesgirls made sure the showroom was in order.
I was reading an email inquiring about an appointment for a custom fitting when a knock on my door diverted my attention. My lips parted in surprise, and my gaze flicked to the gold-framed clock on my wall.
"You're early." I steadied my voice, despising the knot in my stomach.
"I flew in last night," Collin replied as he strode into the room. "The girl downstairs let me in." He sank into the plush pink chair opposite my desk and crossed his legs, interlacing his fingers around his knee. "How are you, sweetheart?"
He did not…
I wanted to dive across the tabletop and throttle him for his audacity to use the endearment he always addressed me with during our relationship. Instead, I leaned back in my identical chair and folded my arms over my chest. "I'm well. How is your chlamydia?"
The corner of his eye twitched. I had struck a nerve. While I never submitted to him (like I did with Marcus for years), I also never let him seeThe Bulldog.