2. BELLA
2
BELLA
H is lips were all over me before we even made it out of the bar, hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as if he was afraid I’d slip away. I should have pulled back. I should have told him to stop. But every nerve in my body was on fire, and all the hatred I thought I harbored for Chris Blackwood seemed to dissolve and melt away with every touch.
We stumbled out onto the street, the warm Mediterranean air wrapping around us and he pulled me into a nearby alley, his mouth crashing against mine.
I didn’t know what I was doing, couldn’t think straight, not with the way his hands roamed over my body like he was trying to memorize every inch of me all over again.
“This way,” I murmured against his lips, breaking away just long enough to catch my breath. I grabbed his hand, leading him toward the Hotel Novotel Monte Carlo. It was within walking distance of the bar. I’d chosen that watering hole for that reason.
I hadn’t in my wildest dreams thought I would run into Chris there.
Not that I didn’t know that he might be around—he always went to these shows.
But what were the odds that we found each other so quickly?
Something about him drew me, no matter how hard I tried to push him away. Even when we were fighting, it ended up in something else—something hot and heavy that couldn’t be resolved with words.
My heart hammered in my chest as we weaved through the narrow streets. I was making a mistake, a colossal one, but the way he looked at me, his blue eyes dark with need, made my body betray every rational thought I had left.
The lobby of the Novotel was a blur as we stumbled inside. It wasn’t the glitz of the luxury hotels up the hill, but it was clean, comfortable, and enough to keep me grounded in reality. The stone floor was polished but slightly worn, the kind that spoke of years of use rather than ostentatious wealth. The decor was simple—muted tones, sleek lines, the kind of understated elegance that didn’t try too hard.
Chris’s hands were on my waist as we waited for the elevator, his breath hot against my neck. I was aware of the receptionist somewhere behind us, probably glancing in our direction. She would recognize him, of course. Nothing about this would be a secret.
But then, I was a nobody, so it didn’t matter.
The thought shot a pang into my chest but I buried it.
This doesn’t have to be like that , he’d said in the bar.
The polished brass doors opened, and I pushed him inside, pressing the button for my floor with a trembling hand. The moment the doors closed, he had me up against the wall, his mouth devouring mine like he was starving. His fingers dug into my hips, pulling me closer, as if he couldn’t get enough.
I had to stop this, tell him no, but the past was rushing back, clouding my judgment. “This is a mistake,” I whispered between kisses, my voice breathy and unsure, but my hands still tugged him closer.
“Maybe,” he murmured against my lips.
“Don’t stop,” I breathed against him.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. We barely made it down the hallway, our steps clumsy and urgent as we fumbled for my room key. The hallway was dimly lit, the carpet a deep navy blue with a simple geometric pattern. I felt the cool metal of the key card in my hand, but my focus was on the heat of his body pressed against mine, the way his lips trailed down my neck again, stopping my brain function completely.
Finally, the door clicked open, and we tumbled inside. The room was small, the kind you’d expect for a mid-range hotel in Monaco, but it had everything I needed—a queen-sized bed with crisp white sheets, a small writing desk by the window, and a chair that sat in the corner like an afterthought.
All surfaces he could fuck me on.
My mind was only on one thing.
Chris.
His hands were everywhere, his lips moving over mine in a way that made me forget everything—where we were, why this was a terrible idea, the years of anger and hurt. All that mattered was he was here, and for a moment, it felt like we were back to where we’d started before everything fell apart.
I knew I shouldn’t let this happen. I couldn’t let him back in. But God, the way he touched me, the way he kissed me, it was like he poured all the years of longing and regret into every movement.
It’s all in your head. He doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t care, this is just sex for him.
It should be just sex for you, too.
And still, I drank it in, letting it wash over me like a wave, pulling me under.
His hands found the hem of my dress, and I gasped against his lips, feeling the heat build between us, the need almost too much to bear. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper, desperate for more, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
I’d blame the wine, but I’d only had one glass. This was all him. All us .
His tongue swept into my mouth as he pushed the straps of my dress over my shoulders, tugging it down until my breasts were bared to him, my nipples hardening in the cool night air.
“You’re not wearing a bra,” he said in a thick voice.
“I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.”
“I’m impressed,” he growled and cupped one breast in his hand, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak. I groaned, my core tightening with the ache that was building, begging to be released.
My fingers scrambled at his waist, and I found the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with haste. He pulled the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it aside, then pulled me back to him, our lips colliding once again.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I breathed.
“Take them off me,” he said against my neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh.
“You take them off.”
He chuckled. “Still as stubborn as ever.”
He unbuckled his pants and pulled them open so that his cock sprung free. It was hard and smooth, the tip glistening with his lust for me, and I ran my fingers up and down his shaft. Chris groaned through gritted teeth.
I kneeled, pulled his pants down, working them over his legs, and his cock was right in front of me.
I couldn’t help myself.
I sucked the head of his cock into my mouth and ran my tongue over the tip. He groaned and his fingers fisted in my hair. I took him deeper, his cock bumping the back of my throat. I gagged a little, and he pulled me off.
“What are you doing?”
“Just wanted a taste,” I said, licking my lips.
He reached down and pulled me up, then crushed his mouth to mine, pushing me back against the wall.
“You’re going to be the end of me,” he mumbled against my lips. He tugged the red dress so that it fell off my hips and onto the floor, and he pulled my panties down far enough so that I could step out of them.
When he pushed his fingers between my legs, curling them into my wetness to find my clit, I moaned.
“You’re so fucking hot, Bell.”
He hadn’t called me that in a long, long time.
“Chris,” I pleaded.
“Tell me what you want,” he growled.
I didn’t have a chance to respond. He wrapped my leg around his waist. I shivered when he pushed his cock against my entrance. He pushed into me, and I cried out and clawed at his shoulders.
“Shhh,” he said, and kissed me, his tongue stroking mine.
I held onto him, my body on fire, and he thrust again, filling me, stretching me, driving me to the edge of ecstasy.
He fucked me against the wall, each stroke sending me higher, taking me closer. The sound of our panting breaths filled the room, along with the wet sounds of his cock slipping in and out of me.
I could barely hold on. I was going to fall over the edge, and I wanted him to fall with me.
My mind fought through the pure pleasure.
“Chris,” I gasped. “Chris, wait.”
He paused and then pulled back with a frown.
“What’s wrong?”
“You have to put on a condom.”
He hesitated only a second.
“Right.” He pulled out, and I sighed at the absence of him filling me.
He picked up the pants he’d kicked off and found his wallet, taking a condom out. In no time, he was wrapped up and he turned back to me. He took my hand and wrapped his other arm around my waist, spinning me around so that the bed was behind me. He gently pushed me down and then followed, his weight resting on top of me, the tip of his cock pressing against me.
I opened my eyes and met his, and time stopped.
In his gaze, I saw everything.
I saw the boy who’d loved me.
The man who’d destroyed me.
And the stranger I couldn’t escape.
Chris pushed into me, and I stopped thinking. He filled me up, and my body stretched to accommodate him. I trembled around the size of him and relished in the feel of his bare chest against my breasts.
Slowly, Chris moved his hips, and then his mouth was on me, his tongue tangling with mine, tasting and exploring.
He pulled out and then slammed back into me, and I arched my hips, wanting more, needing it.
His fingers tangled in my hair as he moved in and out of me, each thrust harder than the last.
“Bella,” he said, his voice raw.
“Yes,” I gasped.
He moved his hips faster, his body tensing as he pumped. His fingers gripped the sheets by my head, and he growled as he fucked me harder.
I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight, feeling every inch of his body against mine. He rocked me back and forth on the mattress so that my breasts jiggled and my breathing came in rhythm with his thrusting.
The pleasure built and built, and I could feel the tension growing inside me, the orgasm threatening to tear me apart.
“Please,” I begged.
“What do you want?”
“Come with me,” I cried, my fingernails digging into his back.
He thrust one more time, and then I was lost.
My body shattered beneath him, waves of pleasure making me tremble and shake.
Chris thrust a few more times, his body tensing and shuddering with his release.
“Oh, God, Bella,” he moaned.
I was floating, flying, falling. Nothing else mattered in this moment. It was just me and Chris. The way it used to be. The way it was supposed to be.
He collapsed on top of me, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
The only sounds were the pounding of my heart, the raggedness of his breath.
Finally, he rolled off me and disposed of the condom. He turned and looked at me, and I stared back, lost in the intensity of his gaze.
I couldn’t look away.
“Stay tonight,” I said.
“I should go.”
I looked at him, waiting for him to make the decision.
But he lay back on the bed and pulled me against him.
“Just tonight,” he said.
The words stung, but I nodded. I wanted him here with me.
The rest, we could figure out tomorrow.
*
When I woke up the next morning, the room was empty. The sheets beside me were cold, and Chris was gone.
My heart twisted. What the hell did I think was going to happen? I should have known this was coming.
Hell, I had known.
But I’d been an idiot and let him in again. Because for a moment, it had been just Chris, the boy I’d once loved, and not the guarded man he’d been when I’d lost him.
I sat up and ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the fog of sleep. The scent of him still lingered on my skin, the feel of him between my legs raw and delicious.
Part of me had hoped he’d still be there, that he’d have some sort of explanation, a reason why he’d left without a word, but this was Chris. This was what he did—come in like a storm and leave just as quickly, leaving nothing but destruction in his wake.
I pulled the sheets around me, fighting the sting of tears. I couldn’t let myself cry over him again. I’d wasted too many tears on Chris Blackwood before. I had to remember who he was, what he’d done, how he’d broken me.
I dragged myself out of bed, forcing my legs to move. I had work to do. I wasn’t here for him; I was here to prove myself. And I would, no matter how much seeing him again stirred up all the shit I’d buried long ago.
I checked my phone, and an email caught my eye—confirmation of a new contract. A job on a yacht during the show, starting in a month’s time. It was from Carla, the head of operations at the staffing agency I worked for. She knew how much I needed the money, and this was a big opportunity.
“Bella,” she’d written in her usual no-nonsense tone. “You’re assigned to a high-profile yacht for the duration of the show. It’s good money, and the clients are known to be generous. Details to follow.”
I sighed, leaning back against the desk chair. Carla didn’t bother with niceties, but she always looked out for me. My best friend Gigi had introduced us to each other when I’d desperately needed something more permanent than the jobs that kept falling away.
For some reason, Carla had decided I was valuable in an industry dominated by people who had more connections and more cash than I ever would, and she gave me a chance to prove myself. I’d worked all over the world as head of staff on different yachts and it had given me a foothold, a way to make a name for myself in a world that was still very much out of reach.
Running into Chris was a stumbling block I hadn’t expected, but I’d known being in Monaco would be a risk. A job was a job. I’d been placed by the agency plenty of times without knowing all the details, and I would just forget about Chris. As long as I did my work and got paid, that was what mattered. Building a life, keeping a roof over my head, moving onward and upward in my career.
I stood, pulling on some clothes and glancing out the window. The sun was already climbing higher in the sky, casting its golden glow over Monaco and the stunning Mediterranean, a glittering sapphire that stretched out below. I had a month to prepare, to get my head straight, to forget that Chris Blackwood had ever walked back into my life.