Keeping My Ex-Crush (Love and Deception #1)

Chapter 1

Resignation Letter

Fenella

“I wanna quit.” I place the white envelope on Alan’s desk.

Alan looks at it, one eyebrow arched. I brace myself for the blow-up he’s capable of. He can go from calm to temperamental in seconds when he’s mad.

I swallow hard, waiting, but he doesn’t move. He stays in his chair, tapping his pen against his hand, elbows resting on the armrests as he stares at the envelope. After a while, he swivels his chair to face me. He uncrosses his legs and leans forward, both elbows on the desk.

My fingers tighten around my small white bag. My whole body stiffens in the chair, like I’m sitting in front of a judge waiting for a verdict. His cold stare cuts straight through me.

“Is this some kind of April Fool’s?” he asks, frowning.

“It’s December first, Alan, not April first.” My voice comes out flat, no hint of a joke.

“Then explain why you’re wasting my time with this.” He tears open the envelope and scans the paper.

“Because I’m leaving Gene.”

“You don’t resign from Gene, Fenella. That’s not how this works.” He waves the envelope.

“Of course I can,” I shoot back, leaning in.

“No, you can’t. I know you didn’t read the contract, but I’m sure Laird spelled it out for you.” He lays the letter down like the paper dirtied his hands.

“I haven’t told him yet, but trust me, he’ll be thrilled.” I shrug, keeping my tone flat.

“Aha. Makes sense now. If you had told him, he’d be floored—and probably end up with a migraine. I can already see it. The veins in his temples would be throbbing.” He narrows his eyes, pressing his temple like he’s the one in pain.

“You don’t know that,” I snap, shaking my head. He smiles faintly, like I just said something na?ve.

“Yes, I do. You can walk away, sure. But first, you’d owe back every dollar. Salary, bonuses, all of it. Five years, that’s what you signed. Standard top model contract. Nothing personal.”

What? A sharp pang of shock hits my chest. Pay him back for everything? This can’t be true. I try to keep my cool, to press him like a ruthless model, but the words slip out in a whisper instead.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” My eyes widen, breath sharp. “You really set me up, didn’t you?”

“That’s what you signed. No one forced you, did they?” He shrugs, voice calm, almost kind.

Yes, Laird mentioned this months ago. Yes, he warned me about penalties if I broke the contract or ditched jobs. But I didn’t care. I didn’t listen. I just rushed to sign.

Now I taste my own poison, and Alan sees right through me. He knows I can’t do a thing but squeak like a cornered mouse, protesting with no way out.

“This is fraud. I’ll sue you.” The words rip out of me.

He stifles a laugh. “Go ahead. Laird will explain it better than me. Don’t cry to me if he calls you a fool.” He leans back, too calm.

I go quiet, chewing the inside of my cheek and my stupidity. God, yes, I never read the whole contract. Who could possibly digest that wall of text? My confidence crumbles under the reality he laid out. I should’ve asked Laird before barging into this office.

“I’m disappointed, Fenella. I’ve invested everything into you—time, money, reputation. I even staked my own name just for you. All to make you the dream girl you always claimed you wanted to be. Where has she gone?”

He pauses, glaring at me like I’m the one in the wrong. But shouldn’t I be the victim here?

“If this is how you repay me, fine. I’ll step back.” Alan throws up his hands like he’s surrendering.

My breath catches. Oh God, not this guilt trip again. I pretend to ignore everything else and focus on my fate. “So… you’ll let me go?”

“Yes, if that’s what you want. Think of it as me firing you. No penalties.” Something’s not right. He’s way too calm.

“But?” I press, because with him there’s always a catch.

“Finish every project you’ve signed up for, and forget about Mallory. She’ll never lift a finger for you again.”

I swallow hard. Everyone knows Mallory West holds the sharpest grudges in the industry. Nobody survives going up against her. She turned an entire album about her cheating ex-fiancé into award-winning revenge, and she tanked her enemies’ careers just because she could.

Do I really want to be on her blacklist? Maybe she won’t even bother with me. Maybe.

“Fine. I’ve only met her once. Doubt she even remembers me.” The disappointment is there, but I keep my resolve.

“You’d really throw everything away for Laird? The reputation you’ve built for seven years?” Alan snorts, that crooked grin mocking me.

“Yes. My decision’s final.” Laird and I have talked about this for ages, but I should’ve spelled it out to him first. He should’ve known the way out before I wrote the letter.

“Fine. Then it’s a deal. But trust me, you’ll regret what you’ve just agreed to.”

* * *

I taste my Bolognese sauce from the tip of the spoon. Yes, it’s unusual, but cooking dinner for Laird is a good distraction from all my negative thoughts.

Earlier this afternoon, I decided to quit Gene. But by tonight, I might have made the wrong decision. My mind keeps imagining all kinds of worse outcomes. They haven’t happened yet, but they make me circle the flat too many times.

“Ugh, yuck.” I grimace and stick out my tongue.

The taste is sour and too spicy. It doesn’t work, even though I followed the recipe he sent this afternoon through the chat. I don’t get how he can make his instant spaghetti sauce taste so amazing.

The door beeps and opens, signaling that he’s back. Sure enough, he walks in with a wide smile on his face.

“Fenella!” He hugs me and sweeps me off my feet. He kisses my cheek and then my lips with quick pecks.

“What’s up with you?” I chuckle, amused by his behavior. This is the first time he laughs like that.

“We did it! A major studio from LA just reached out to seal the deal!”

“For real? That’s incredible, baby!”

“Yeah!” He laughs.

My eyes widen, and a smile spreads across my face. My expression mirrors his, equally lit up by this joyful news. We hug tight, and he lifts me off the floor. He even spins us around for a moment, both of us laughing out loud.

When he starts coming down from his excitement, he sets me back down. He’s panting, his face flushed, lips curled into a joyful smile.

“Congrats, honey,” I whisper and kiss his cheek.

“Thanks, hun. It’s all because of you.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb.

“No, it’s all because of you and Dave. You’ve both done an incredible job,” I say as we look into each other’s eyes.

“In that case, you’re still my lucky charm—because the game they picked is a game about you.”

Hearing that, my eyes blink, and my mouth falls open. “A game about a model?” I ask, stunned.

“Yup. It’s called My Supermodel.” He grins.

“Oh, wow, Laird. That’s huge.” I cheer.

But my heart sinks as I hear it. His career is taking off, while I’ve just handed in my resignation. He’s building a game about a supermodel, while I’ve thrown away my last chance to earn that title.

Of course, I can’t tell him now. I’ll break this surprise later, when he’s calmer. I don’t want to ruin his joy in this moment.

He kisses me like he’ll never let go. Our adrenaline overflows, turning the kiss wild and ecstatic. Luckily, I’ve turned off the stove, making sure we’re safe when he picks me up again. My thighs clasp his waist for support.

He seats me on his sturdy wooden dining table. Our lips stay locked in a passionate embrace, tasting each other’s tongues. His hands slip under my shirt, unfastening my bra. He pauses the kiss to take it off while I pull off his jacket and shirt.

His hands squeeze my breasts, fingers pinching my nipples, all while his lips keep exploring mine. I moan, pleasure spreading from my chest down to my core. Warmth pools low in my belly. He holds me tighter, his hard bulge pressing against my thigh.

His lips move down to my neck, sucking hard. His tongue teases, licking the sensitive spot that makes me groan. He tries to take my nipples into his mouth, still cupped in his hands, but the height difference forces him to bend down awkwardly.

“Lie back on the table,” he murmurs.

I comply, lying flat on the wooden surface. The cold, hard surface feels unpleasant against my back, but he makes up for it with the pleasure he gives through his tongue. He pulls off my pants until I’m completely naked, spread out on the table.

“Jesus, Fenella. This is insane. This sight…” His voice trails off in admiration.

He gazes at me, stretched out across his dining table. My face and body burn with embarrassment. It’s my first time lying naked on a table like this. His roaming eyes fix on me.

“Please, no…” I try to cover my face, but he pushes my hands to the sides of my head, keeping me open to his gaze.

His fingers trail down my arm to my chest. “You’re the most decadent, sexiest dish I’ll ever have. You’re the best art God ever created, and the last woman I’ll ever taste in this universe,” he whispers.

He sits down in a chair. His hands flip me onto my side. From this angle, his mouth latches onto my nipples. One hand toys with the other nipple, nimble fingers flicking rapidly, while his wet tongue teases the one he’s sucking.

I whimper and moan in pleasure. I bite my lower lip to muffle the sound as my hips start moving on their own. Sensing it, his free hand presses against my clit. Pleasure tingles in every sensitive spot of my body.

I groan as his fingers slip inside my pussy. His palm presses against my clit while two fingers curl into my deepest sensitive spot. The combination is overwhelming.

Minutes pass, he’s driving me higher and higher until I peak, groan after groan tumbling from my lips. Even when he knows I’ve come, he doesn’t stop.

His mouth alternates between sucking my nipples as if he finds comfort there, while his fingers keep moving deep inside me. My hips keep grinding, desperate to fill the emptiness. His thumb flicks my clit while his fingers press and push just right.

“Laird!” I moan as the force of a second orgasm rips through me, flooding his fingers.

“Open up,” he orders.

He brings his wet fingers to my mouth, and I suck them clean. The salt-sweet taste floods my tongue. He stands, bends over, and turns me back flat on the table.

“God, Laird. I need you,” I plead, breathless.

“Patience, baby. You’ll need more as I give you your thank-you gift.”

He kisses down my neck, then the swell of my cleavage. His mouth and tongue worship every inch of my breasts until I bite my lip again to stifle a moan. His tongue trails down my stomach and waist, licking along my hips and thighs.

“Wow.” He exhales in front of my pussy before lowering his mouth and tongue to tease me.

I groan at the electric jolt inside me. His tongue slides deep into my pussy, wet and soft, licking again and again. Each stroke makes me moan louder. It doesn’t take long before I shatter in a third orgasm.

“Laird, please. I’m gonna pass out.” The little death hits harder than anything I’ve ever felt.

He strips off his pants and rolls on a condom from the kitchen drawer. He teases my entrance with the tip of his cock. I try to push myself up on my elbows, but he shakes his head.

“Hold tight. I’m not finishing anytime soon,” he says before thrusting inside. “Oh, yes,” he hisses with his eyes closed, and I echo him.

His thick shaft fills me completely, as he reaches every part of me. We’re a perfect fit. He moves back and forth, creating friction that makes my eyes flutter closed and open.

“Yes, baby, just like that.” I grimace with pleasure.

His hips snap faster and harder, pounding me with each thrust. Our breaths come ragged, tangled with moans.

“Turn around, baby,” he commands again, his voice low and rough, impossibly sexy.

I turn, stepping down, half standing on the table, gripping the edge of it. His hands clamp my hips as he pushes back inside me from behind.

“Oh! God!” I squirm as the tip of his cock hits so deep, pounding hard inside me.

I moan and whimper with every thrust, my clit rubbing against the polished wooden table. The mix traps me in unbearable, incredible pleasure. He groans in sync with my moans as I come again and again, losing count.

We finally fall silent, catching our breath. He kisses my back, trailing down my spine. A moment later, he goes to the sink, ties up the used condom, and tosses it in the trash, while I dash to the bathroom to clean up.

Right after, my phone rings on the sofa. The ringtone is distinct enough, it’s Jessy.