Chapter 11 Hayes
Hayes
“Thanks, Ben.” I end the call and set my phone on my desk.
I can’t take my eyes off the screen. I haven’t seen Raegan in twenty years.
Axel hacked the airline records and confirmed she arrived in town about an hour ago.
Ben, the amazing attorney that he is, has just confirmed that everything is in order for her arrival.
He’s bringing the divorce papers and she’s supposed to be here at nine–after my class–to sign them.
Two fucking hours and this entire disaster will finally be done.
The beat of my heart picks up its pace at the realization that I’m about to see her again, after all these years.
I’m going to have to push the memories of what we used to be away, if I have any hope of getting through this with my sanity intact.
We had a brief blink in time of bliss but it’s been too long and the reckless, impulsive Hayes of my past is gone.
It’s time to leave the past where it belongs.
A soft knock interrupts my solo pity party and my eyes pull away from my cell and land on my office door. “Come in.”
The door inches open slowly, and Demi slides through the space it creates, a burst of music from the bar following her until she closes the door and leaves us in silence.
I’ve never seen a woman dress so simply–in underwear and a fucking t-shirt–and be so fucking stunning at the same damn time. The only way it could be better, is if it were my shirt and she lost the panties. Don’t get me wrong, they make her ass look stunning, but she looks better out of them.
“You eye fucking me, boss?”
Busted.
“Of course not. That would be extremely unprofessional of me.” I seal it with a smirk.
We’ve developed a fun banter since the night we met.
It’s a new dynamic for me, but it’s also something I’m learning to embrace.
She brings a new light to my days and I’m grateful for her presence despite our platonic arrangement.
Platonic.
That’s also something new to me, but she’s made it clear she’s not in a place for more.
If I’m being real, neither am I. There’s also the barrier of her preferring women.
She really had me fooled the night of Axel’s wedding, but I’d never dream of pressing her to explore anything she doesn’t want.
No matter how much my dick would love to press.
He’s obviously still interested, but luckily for me, I’m the one in charge.
I stand and move to the front of my desk. Motioning to a chair for her to sit, I lean against the edge of the desk and cross my arms over my chest. “What can I do for you, Demi?”
She hesitates but strolls to the chair and sits, but doesn’t speak. Instead, she rubs her hands against her thighs, then proceeds to tap her tiny fingers against her knees. Why the fuck is she so nervous?
“Demi?” I ask again, my eyebrows raised.
“I’m tired of being benched. When are you going to actually let me help you in your classes?” The words come out a little too hastily as she averts her eyes.
“We’ve talked about this.” More than once, actually. After that morning in the diner, I had her meet me here and we went over some basic safety guidelines, but I also told her she’d have to sit in on some classes before she could help. “It’s for your own safety.”
“Respectfully, fuck that. I don’t know why you keep using that as an excuse to not let me help you, but it’s so fucking dumb.
I’m not a novice in the lifestyle. I know my safeword.
I could see a class or two, but we’re over a half a dozen classes deep and you still won’t use me.
Unless you had no intention of using me in the first place and this was all a lie so you could gift me a membership because you feel sorry for me. ”
Fucking hell. Now I feel like Dick of the Decade.
“That is not the reason.”
“Is it because I’m gay? If it is, please tell me now.” Her eyes gloss over as she pleads with me like she wants me to tell her she’s right. “I can take it, Hayes. I’m a grown ass woman and I can handle it. I swear.”
“Jesus Christ,” I curse under my breath. “No, Demi. I would never do that. I don’t give a shit about your sexuality. If anything, knowing I’m not your type makes it easier to keep things platonic.” I won’t tell her that my dick has yet to get the message. Now is not the time.
“Then why? Give me one good reason, Hayes.”
I wish she wasn’t, but she’s fucking right. There’s no good reason for me to repeatedly bench her. Which begs the question... What the fuck was I thinking?
I’m on my feet and moving to the chair next to her in seconds. “I can’t give you a reason that would make any logical sense.” Her gorgeous brown eyes burn through me as she waits for more. “You can help me tonight.”
“Oh my god!” she shouts, jumping from her seat and onto my lap. Her delicate arms wrap around my neck and she squeezes tightly into me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I can’t stop the little bit of laughter that escapes me at her enthusiasm.
There’s a child-like joy in her excitement and it almost feels like it’s a new experience for her.
A dull ache runs through my heart at the thought she may have never had this.
Nevertheless, I’m glad I was able to give it to her.
This beautiful woman deserves the fucking world.
“You’re welcome, Little Pixie.” I pat her back lightly, hoping she’ll move soon. If not, we may soon have a problem on our hands with the way her ass is grinding against my–now growing–cock. “Class starts soon. We should get ready. I have a meeting right after and I don’t want to be late.”
“Oh!” She smirks. “Seems like someone’s already ready.”
My hands plant on her hips and I lift her off me. “Don’t be a brat. I’ll have no problem gagging you for the entire class as punishment.”
“I’m not afraid of you… Sir.” She draws out the word Sir, long and slow. Her southern lilt is generally subtle, but in times like this it’s more prominent and I kind of like bringing it out of her, even if she is mocking me. “Do. Your. Worst.”
She thinks I’m bluffing, but she’ll learn soon enough that I never do.
Standing, I shrug before leaning down and whispering in her ear, “We’ll see how confident you are after class. Time to go.”
She rolls her eyes and I silently put it in my mental filing cabinet for later.
“Wait. What kind of meeting do you have after the class? Isn’t that kind of late for a business meeting?”
Now it’s my turn to eye roll. “It’s not just a business meeting. My wife is finally stopping in to sign the divorce papers.”
“Hayes, that’s great! You’ll finally be free and can move on.” She pauses with her finger in her lip. “How are you feeling about it, though? Are you okay?”
“I’ll be better when it’s over.”
Opening the door, we step into the booming noise of the bar. I love Gravity, but the bar is not my baby. It’s Ryker’s. I prefer spaces that have less music pounding in my ears and more implements or even moans floating through the air.
“Boss. Boss,” our lead security guard–Damien–yells, out of breath, as he flies up the stairs in our direction. “I tried to stop her.”
“Stop who?” Demi and I ask in unison.
“I would assume he’s talking about me,” a female voice sings from behind us.
We both turn around and my heart skips when I see her.
Raegan.
Her red locks are pulled back in a tight bun and she’s dressed in all black. A pencil skirt and silk blouse, shiny, black patent leather pumps. And glasses. Those are new. She looks like a supermodel and a librarian had a love child and I’m pretty sure my dick is all-the-way hard now.
“Shit,” Demi squeaks next to me. When I turn my gaze to her, I follow her line of sight to find it locked–intensely–on my wife.
What the fuck is happening? Do they know each other?
Before I can ask, Raegan answers the question by taking four steps closer, until she’s no more than a foot from her, and like she’s said it a thousand times, confidently states, “Demetria–”