Chapter Eleven
Madi
It’s all too much.
Not the sex–the sex is amazing. But the implications of Brick being in my apartment.
Aubrey wasn’t home when we got in last night, but as Brick brings me to my third orgasm this morning, I hear her moving around the kitchen, softly singing a song by The Cure as she makes breakfast.
Brick clamps a hand over my mouth as I cry out, muffling the sound of my pleasure as he rides to his own.
He was a perfect gentleman last night, helping me out of my dress and drawing me a bath because he decided I was cold.
By the time I got out, I’d warmed up in more than one way, especially after he laid me down on the bed and took his time kissing and licking every inch of my body before he brought me to orgasm. It was incredible.
He’sincredible.
That’s what has me uneasy. It’s the worst part of all of this. I never expected this giving side of Brick. I thought he’d continue to be an asshole, even as a lover, and I was okay with that. It was part of the allure, really. The boss-employee power dynamic turned me on. Like a milder version of master and submissive role play.
But Blackthroat as attentive? Warm, even? The guy who held me all night, lightly brushing circles over my skin every time I stirred?
That I don’t even know how to reconcile. Frankly, it terrifies me.
Right now he’s like an Adonis in my bed. Naked and gloriously muscled. His eyes reflect golden hues of the morning light as he reaches his peak and slams into me to finish. I wrap my legs around his waist and hook my feet behind him to take him even deeper.
He shudders with pleasure as he releases into me, his strokes turning slow and languid. His lids droop.
What is he even doing here?
In my apartment?
In my bed?
It’s a puzzle I can’t seem to solve, and I’m the type of person who won’t stop worrying a problem until I understand it. Give me an unfinished crossword, and I can’t walk away until every box is filled.
But no matter what it is that draws him to me, it won’t change the fact that I know he won’t stay. Which wouldn’t be a problem if it was only about the sex. But it’s not that neat and clean.
I could really fall for this guy. Fall hard.
And I know there’d be no cushion to land on when I fall. The billionaire Brick Blackthroat isn’t going to put a ring on my finger and walk me down the aisle–not that I think the institution of marriage is the end-all or anything. But regardless. This isn’t Cinderella. I don’t get the prince. It’s more like Pride and Prejudice, except there won’t be a happily-ever-after. Falling in love with Brick can only mean one thing: a broken heart.
He takes his fingers away from my mouth and kisses me. “Want to get breakfast?”
“Um.” I try to swallow down the lump in my throat. While spending the entire weekend with Brick like he’s an actual boyfriend has huge appeal, I just… can’t.
It’s not the right move to make. It’s not smart or practical.
Being with Brick is starting to hurt my heart–I’m falling for him. Not the fantasy of him but the real man. And I know this won’t last. It can’t. A billionaire from a long line of wealth and status doesn’t slum long-term.
I know what I need to do here. “I think you should go,” I say. “I need some time to think.”
He studies me. “About me?”
My heart flip-flops in my chest. “Yeah,” I say softly.
He draws away, his face impassive as he climbs out of the bed and pulls on his undershirt and boxers, then tuxedo pants and shirt, which he leaves unbuttoned. I’m already sorry for pushing him away, even though I know it’s the right thing to do.
“Somehow I think you’ve already made up your mind. Let’s have it, Windows.”
“I don’t think we should have sex any more.” I pluck the sheet up to cover my breasts.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and tilts his head. “Odd timing for that pronouncement.” His gaze roves over my bare shoulders. “Considering.”
Considering he just made me come three times. Yeah, I know. Sue me.
“It’s just getting too intense.”
“Too intense,” he echoes hollowly.
“Listen, I like my job,” I tell him. “I’d like to keep it. Is, ah, that possible?”
Annoyance flickers over his face. “Of course it’s possible, Windows.” He stares at me for a moment, revealing nothing of his thoughts, then shoves his feet into his shoes, picks up the tuxedo jacket, and walks out.
Ouch. That…sucked.
“I’m sorry.” I speak the flat words to the shut door. He’s already gone.
I thought I would feel relieved, especially because I still have the job–which I really have come to love. Instead, an unfamiliar anxiety brews in the pit of my stomach.
Like I made a mistake. And I rarely make mistakes. I’m allergic to them.
A moment later, Aubrey throws my door open and launches onto my bed in her Women are fragile like a bomb t-shirt and purple lace panties. “Oh my God! What is wrong with you? I didn’t even know Brick Blackthroat was in our apartment. You could’ve texted or something!”
I fall back on the bed and throw an arm across my face. “I’m sorry! I’m an asshole. Did he see you in your underwear?”
“Well, yeah! Not that I care. It just was a shock. I mean, I thought you were going to walk out of your room and instead it’s this broad-shouldered billionaire asshole in a tux looking like he just ate a lemon.”
“He’s not an asshole.” I’m surprised at the rush of defensiveness that wells up in me at her dig. “And the lemon-face was because I just told him I didn’t want to have sex anymore.”
“That seems like odd timing. Did you say it right after doing it?”
I guess she heard.
Aubrey sits on the bed.
“Yes. He found the timing unusual as well.”
“So what happened?”
“Nothing. I mean, it was just getting to be too much, you know? Him coming over here and asking me to invite him up. He’s not what I thought–he’s really not a dick. I mean, he certainly can be, but not to the people he cares about. Like his sister and niece and nephew and…”
Aubrey’s dark head pops up from the pillow. “And?”
I try to fight back the irrational sensation of panic rising in my chest. “I don’t know!” I throw my hands in the air. “Maybe me!”
Aubrey gives me an exaggerated jaw drop with an extended gasp.
“Stop it.”
“You just broke it off because you’re afraid he cares about you?”
“Well, no. I mean, yes.” I try to organize my thoughts. “No! I broke it off because I care whether he cares, and that’s a real problem.”
“You know…there are no guarantees in love.” Aubrey props her cheek on her hand.
“Please don’t.”
She laughs. “I’m just saying. You’re trying so hard to protect yourself, but is it worth it?”
“There was no love! This was my winter fling, remember? And now it’s over.”
“Okay, that’s legit. So did you quit the job, too?”
“No, he said I can keep the job.”
“Well, of course. He’d better say that, or he’d have a lawsuit on his hands. You can’t require a woman to have sex to keep a job. Which I know you know.”
“Right.” I throw off the sense that I made a mistake along with the covers and climb out of bed, grabbing a shirt to pull over my head, so Aubrey doesn’t have to look at me stark naked. “So it’s all good. I had some great boss sex and now I’m taking a break. End of story.”
“And you could probably always hit that again anytime you wanted to. You know, just for sex-sake. Sex-sake…” she repeats. “I just made up a new word.” She grins at me, and a bit of my dark mood lifts.
Not at the prospect of renewing things with Brick. That would be a bad idea. But it’s nice to know I could choose it if I really wanted to. That it’s still an option. Because Aubrey’s right. It’s not like I just broke Brick’s heart. He didn’t even argue with me–he knew it had to end at some point, too. This was just about sex. Things were getting out of that realm, so we needed to take a break. Once the distance has built back up between us, maybe we can indulge again. Not often–just once in a while.
My heart picks up speed at the idea of it not being completely over–further sign that I really am in too deep and can’t manage what we had.
I need to take a breather. Maybe date some other men. Remind myself that Brick is not the kind of guy you dream about keeping.
Not even close.