30. Nina
Nina
I haven’t been able to concentrate on painting the gym. Every few minutes I check my phone, waiting to hear how Evren’s meeting with Glam Pop went.
Between everything that happened with Mom and everything still unraveling with Evren, it’s been an emotional roller coaster.
Relief hits in one moment, anger in the next, and then devastation takes its turn.
But meeting with Rose earlier today—hearing her say I did the right thing—helped. Just enough to breathe again.
“Hi,” Evren says from the doorway.
I spin to face him. His jaw tenses as he stares past me, lost in a storm of thoughts. His usually composed face is shadowed with something raw and uncertain.
“How did it go with Glam Pop?” I ask.
“It went.” He sighs, coming over to me. His steps are measured, heavy with something unsaid. “ I fired them.”
“You what? You can’t do that, you need them.”
“I don’t want anything to do with Mick after his reaction. We don’t think he’s working with Harold and instead is just trying to hurt you.”
“Jeez.” I grimace, the sharp pang of betrayal twisting in my chest. “I really lucked out in the parental lottery.”
His expression softens, and he steps closer, warmth radiating from his body as he wraps his arms around me. “I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into my hair.
“And Ben?” I whisper, afraid to ask.
“Only time will tell where he stands.”
I swallow hard, the lump in my throat burning. “I’m so sorry you lost them as a sponsor.”
“It is what it is, but I need to ask you something.”
There’s something in his tone that has me pulling back so I can see his face. “Okay?”
“Mick mentioned that you’ve been applying to work with other teams and that you have an interview next week in New York.”
I stare at him in confusion, trying to piece together what he just said. “I don’t have an interview. I honestly have no idea what he’s talking about.”
“But you applied for a job with other teams?” he presses.
“I applied for one team when you first moved in. It was after you called me out for partying. I was drunk and hurt and wanted to provoke you. But I haven’t checked the email account I used to apply since then. I don’t want to work with anyone but you. ”
He exhales slowly, the tension draining from his body. “Okay.”
“Did you doubt me?”
“I never thought you were working against me, but if you did have an interview without telling me…that would hurt.”
“Of course I’d tell you,” I say, lifting a hand to his cheek, his stubble rough against my palm. His eyes close briefly at the touch. “A lot of shit is happening, and I feel like people trying to pit us against each other just might be our new normal. But I don’t want us to allow them to do that.”
“You’re right,” he says. His fingers wrap around my wrist and gently pull my hand from his face, pressing a kiss to my palm. “It’s just…I don’t doubt you. I doubt myself. I keep missing all the signs from people who want to fuck me over, and it makes me question my own judgment.”
“I get that, I do. And I also get that no matter how much I tell you I won’t fuck you over, it won’t penetrate. Only my actions will show you that I’m serious.”
“You don’t have to prove anything to me,” he says. “This is a me issue, and I think I need to start therapy to work through it all.”
“What if we both start therapy? I’ll work on my issues with my mom, and you’ll work on your history with Mert and Harold.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in therapy.”
“I guess,” I say, stepping closer, the space between us shrinking until there’s nothing left but our shared breaths. “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“Hmm, and what else have I been a bad influence on?” he teases.
“Well, you’ve now gotten me used to eating my favorite cereal, and I can’t bring myself to buy the box that’s on sale just because it’s cheaper.
I also don’t think I’ll ever be able to have sex without hearing the words good girl again.
But you’ve also made me believe in myself and my capabilities as a designer.
And worst of all, you’ve shown me that you like me just the way I am, flaws and everything. ”
“Sounds to me like I’m a bad influence.” He brushes his lips against mine in a whisper of a kiss. “I’m not sure why you even keep me around.”
“It’s for your money,” I say with a straight face before breaking out into laughter. “What? Too soon to joke about that?”
“Depends.” He lifts me in his arms and my legs go around his waist.
“On?”
“What my therapist says.”
Another laugh bursts out of me.
“You say I’m a bad influence,” he says, nuzzling my neck.
“But you’ve corrupted me, wrecked me, in all the best ways.
” He pulls back and stares deep into my eyes.
“I’ve never felt more alive than I do in your chaos.
Before you, I couldn’t remember what it was like to have fun, to laugh, hell, even to sleep.
But now I sleep because I can’t wait to wake up next to you.
Life’s better with you in it. And I think I might love that more than anything. ”
That’s the sweetest, most heartfelt thing someone has ever said to me. Tears well and slip down my cheeks. Wiping them away, he kisses me softly, showing me that I’m precious, cared for, and deserving of everything in life and more.
The kiss turns into something edged with desperation, both of us needing to consume the other. We rip each other’s clothes off, and when we’re both fully naked, he lays me down on the new weight bench.
“You have the most perfect fucking pair of tits I’ve ever seen.” He sucks my right nipple and then switches to the other side. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I say without any hesitation, because I do.
“Good, I’m going to tie you up. Is that okay?”
“Definitely.” And it is. Getting tied up and not having to do any work? Sign me up.
He grabs the exercise band and wraps it around my wrists and the bench so that I can’t move my arms. The entire time he works, I stare at his hard dick. When he’s done securing me, I say, “If you don’t let me suck your dick right now, I’m going to scream.”
I scoot so that my head is hanging off the bench and lick my lips. He unzips his trousers and takes out his dick, stroking himself a few times before running his tip over my mouth. I lick him and he pushes forward ever so slowly, before pulling out.
“Do you want to deep throat me?” he asks .
“Yes, I’ve been wanting to for months.”
He groans. “Is your throat ready for me?”
I nod and open my mouth, waiting for him. He leans forward slowly, inching inside, as if afraid to hurt me. But I love it. He keeps going, past my tonsils and into my throat. It’s tight, suffocating even, but I swallow him down.
“Take me, all of me. I know you can,” he says, pressing his entire length into my mouth.
I choke and gag, loving every moment of it. Loving that he’s controlling when I breathe and how much, especially now that my arms are tied up. It’s freeing to give him this much control. To not have to think and just let go.
When he pulls out, I demand, “Again, I love it.”
He does as I ask, and I lose myself in the feel of him, fucking my throat raw, and for the first time my brain just goes silent.
“You’re doing so well,” he says. “I’m going to come down this perfect throat that’s strangling me, fighting me with every thrust I make.”
I moan and he loses it, coming for an endless amount of time while I fight to swallow every last drop. When he’s done, he immediately unties me and pulls me into his lap.
“Are you okay?” he asks, cupping my cheeks in his hands tenderly and searching my face.
“That was the hottest thing in my life,” I say. “Giving you control over everything was amazing. ”
“You’re all mine to use, anytime, anywhere.” He kisses each of my cheeks and then moves to my lips.
“Yes, I am.”
He grins and thrust two fingers inside me. “I’ve never been this consumed, this obsessed,” he says, “with anyone besides you.”
“Same.” My gaze softens. “I love you, so fucking much.”
“I love you, too,” he says, positioning me on the ground with my ass in the air. Him entering me will never get old. Neither will hearing his moans of pleasure or how much he praises me.
This, what we have, is what I’ve been searching for without knowing it—this feeling of unity. It’s more than desire, more than attraction. It’s knowing that we fit together, not just in moments like this, but in everything.
The honesty we have and the way we can work through anything that comes our way and still come out stronger is not just love. It’s more. And I’ll fight for it, for him, for us, every day of my life—because this is what it means to truly be in this together.
A few hours later, Evren catches me around the waist and pulls me onto his lap when I pass him on the couch.
“Hi,” I say.
“I miss you.”
I laugh. “I’ve only been working for an hour. ”
“So? That’s sixty minutes too long.”
“Aww, is someone needy?” I swirl my hips over him, his dick already hard. I unbutton his pants and reach inside?—
“Babe, I’m home,” Elodie singsongs.
I freeze for a beat before jumping off Evren.
“You’ve got to zip up,” I whisper-shout, waving to his dick that’s still standing up at attention.
He chuckles and tucks himself back inside his trousers with a wince. “Remind me why we gave Elodie access to the house.”
“Because she loves me,” Elodie says, breezing into the room with a bottle of champagne but stops abruptly as she takes us in. “And… Oh wow. I’m interrupting, aren’t I?” Elodie’s eyes grow comically wide as she backs up a step, and another. “That’s fine, I’ll call next time beforehand and?—”
“Oh, stop.” I laugh. “It wouldn’t be the first or last time you’ve cockblocked me.”
“Hey now,” Elodie says. “It was one time, okay, maybe two, but that doesn’t mean it’s a regular thing for me.”
“Again,” Evren says. “Why did we allow her to have access to the house if she has a history of cockblocking?”