Chapter 67: Chapter 67

Why are you doing this?” I ask. “I want to know if you miss it.” “Of course I do.”

“Him?”

“No, yes!”

“What do you mean?”

“I miss dad, our skating, being on top of the world, but not Scott.”

“Are you sure that’s all you miss? Judging by your reaction, I doubt you.”

“I guess you don’t know, you’re just going to have to trust me.”

“Listen Isa, I can’t compete with the level of intimacy the two of you shared on the ice, I see it every time I watch the two of you skate.”

“Then stop watching because what Scott and I have together didn’t survive.” “That point is the only thing that keeps me going. I’ve dated other girls Isa, but I’ve held out for you. You’re the one I want.”

“I want you too.”

“I’m not so sure of that. I don’t think you are ready. Grab your things I’ll take you home.”

The valet brings his winged car around, and the novelty of its elegance wears thin due to our changing moods. He buckles me in and we sit in silence as he drives slowly back to the office lost in his own thoughts. I stare out the window devoid of any hope that the evening can be salvaged. He swipes his card to get into the underground and pulls up next to my lone car. He places her in park and I start digging through my handbag for my keys to the Jag. I find them and press the door locks making it beep a hollow sounding echo before looking at Michael, “I’m sorry our evening is ending like this.”

“So am I,” he admits. His eyes look dark and he’s brooding. I don’t wait around to see if he will kiss me. That will make me look desperate. I unbuckle my belt and press the button to open my wing. He opens his wing too and escorts me to my car door. I turn to him to thank him for the evening, when he slams my body against my car door and his lips press hard against mine. He kisses me with the hunger of a thousand starving men. I return his hunger getting lost in the warmth of his lips, his firm body presses hard against mine. He is making me want him more and more.

His hands grab hold of both sides of my face and he use them to guide me in different directions, his tongue delves deep into my mouth. I crave him inside of me, but he eases off and stops kissing me. His hands still cradling my face, “I’m sorry for losing it. It won’t happen again, not until I know your ready.” At this point I see into his troubled eyes, as I throb with desire for him and I know I won’t be satiated anytime soon. Frustrated, I look down and that’s when I notice it’s a mutual frustration. He walks away quickly and gets into his car closing both wings, I watch as he starts it and throws it into reverse, and then he burns out of the lot, narrowly missing a pole on his way out.

I slowly get into my car and lock the doors. I try stabilizing myself after this roller coaster of an evening. Conflicting emotions consume me, as my thermostat slowly returns back to normal, I’m left with a disarray of emotions. Unable to concentrate, I manage to drive home while my mind constantly replays what happened this evening. I remember the video he played to me and I feel sad about my past, the present, and my unforeseeable and desolate future. I feel so alone.

I get off the lift and walk directly to my door. “Isabella?” I hear Scott’s voice in the hallway. A short time ago, his voice would have a soothing affect on me, but now I respond with rigidness. I half turn in his direction but stop myself, not wanting to show him weakness. I also don’t him seeing my apartment for obvious reasons.

I say, “Hi,” before quickly going into my loft and closing the door behind me. My thermostat, mind, any sense of calm I previously had is gone. With my back pressed against the door, I slide slowly to the floor where I really break out into a sobbing mess.

Scott’s here, he’s back. I don’t even have a couch or bed to cry on, how pathetic is that? Feeling sorry for myself, I strip down and head for the shower. The water is tepid at best, and the pressure leaves something to be desired. I turn the knob more and a rush of freezing water shocks me. I readjust the temperature again and close my eyes to it as it pours over my face and then the rest of me.

The shower stall door opens. I hear it before seeing it. My back is still turned towards the door, before I have a chance to react, familiar hands cup my breasts. He pulls me back from the spray so that my naked body is touching his naked body. He drops a hand from one of my breasts and reaches down for me, fingering me. I melt to his touch instantly moist and responsive to him. I gasp with pleasure, leaning my head with eyes still closed against his broad chest.

I reach back to fist his hair, happy that he’s changed his mind, to find there isn’t any. Confused, I turn expecting to see Michael but instead Scott is looking back at me. He must have let himself in. Caught completely off guard, I push him off me in attempt to recover my dignity and hide behind a towel, but of course he doesn’t budge because he’s too fucking strong.

“What are you doing?” I ask angrily. “Let me go! Do you always break and enter?”

He ignores me and takes advantage of my speaking by kissing me again. His tongue flicking mine wildly. His fingers kneading me effortlessly with amazing skill. The surprise kiss leaves me breathless and I push away for a second time but he’s ready for it and bridges the gap. I resort to breathing through my nose until his kisses end. He pulls back and asks, “Who were you expecting?”

“Not you,” I say rebelliously. He doesn’t like the answer because then he pushes me under the water and impales me with his cock. He lifts me carefully into the air and carries me until my back is pressing against the shower wall. I wrap my legs around his firm gluteus Maximus. Agh I cry out as the water rains over us and he fucks me with everything he has. My nipples are hard and they bounce off his chest with each thrust. I caress his shaved head as his tongue dives deep into my mouth muffling my cries of arousal. I come undone around him as he fills me with his sex, the warmth of his fluids running down my legs.

He turns the water off and lowers me down to the shower floor where we stay kissing for a few more minutes. When we finish I look into his warm brown eyes and say, “That shouldn’t have happened. Forget we did this,” I resolve. We start drying ourselves off.

“You never answered, who were you expecting?”

“It doesn’t really matter, what matters is that I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here?”

“Michael offered me a job.”

“I know, but that’s not supposed to start until Camp.”

“He said he needs me to help you arrange everything. I’m meeting with him tomorrow morning. Giving you a director position is pretty impressive Isa. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I am. He never told me he asked you to come early,” I say taken aback. “He doesn’t report to you.”

“I guess so.”

“When is your furniture being delivered?” he asks looking around my barren loft.

“Whenever I have the time to go pick it out. I’m starting to get used to living with nothing,” I joke. I slide my nightgown over my head and then he reaches for my hand and starts rubbing it with his thumb, “You want to stay at my place tonight?”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“At least let me give you back your old bed. I still have it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely, it’s yours.”

It was good having my old bed back. Scott is nice enough to set it up in my bedroom before leaving.

I show up early for work arriving at my office fifteen minutes to nine. Oddly enough there is a paper strewn across my desk with a highlighted headline. I pick up the paper and a picture of me and Michael catches my eye. The headline reads:

‘Less than a year after her divorce Isabella Moyes snatches the heir to Ted Anderson millions!’

There is a tap on the doorframe and Michael walks in, “I take it you’ve read the article?”

“Yes, I didn’t see anyone take our picture.”

“You wouldn’t, the photographer could have been anywhere. Don’t worry about it. We don’t have anything to hide. I hired you because of your credentials, if a relationship evolves, we’ll deal with the media. They happen in the workplace all the time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you asked Scott to start earlier?”

“It was dad’s decision and last night didn’t go as I’d planned it to go, I take it you’ve spoken to him?”

“Yes, I bumped into him at the loft.” “That didn’t take long,” he complains.

“I wasn’t looking for him, we bumped into each other.”

The guilt hits like a wave even though Michael’s not dating me. He has in fact completely rejected me last night. I have no idea why I’m feeling guilty except for the fact that Michael’s correct about me having residual feelings for Scott. I walk up to Michael and grab his hand, “You’re the one I want,” I reassure. “Let me prove it to you.” I start unbuttoning his jacket and sliding my hands around his waist. Maybe I’m overcompensating right now, would I be doing this if I hadn’t slept with Scott last night?

“I’m meeting with your ex in five minutes,” he warns me.

“Just remember, that’s exactly what he is, an ex. Don’t let me keep you.” “You’ve upped your game,” he notices.

“Maybe I need to,” I say as seductively as I can in an office before nine o’clock in the morning. To my surprise Michael leans in and kisses me lightly on the lips, “Dinner tonight?”

Maybe upping my game is exactly what he needs to believe that I want him? “Sorry, I want to but I can’t, I really need to get some furniture. Do you want to come?”

“I pick the store?” he begs.

“Sure, you pick the store,” but I don’t want crazy expensive. “Sounds good to me.”

The second knock on my door occurs shortly after two. “Come in,” I call.

He comes in with paper in hand, tossing it halfway across the room with the majority of it landing on my desk. I pinch the bridge of my nose dreading this confrontation. I look passed Scott at the door left ajar. I don’t want to make a scene. He notices and slams it shut behind him.

“Of all people,” he complains. “You’re with him?” “Pretty much.”

“Pretty much.” He imitates me, furious beyond reason. “Does he know?”

“About?” “Last night?”

“No, I didn’t tell him how you broke into my place or that I mistook you for him, or how we fucked like sexually depraved animals. I guarantee you that will never happen again.”

“You can’t resist me,” he seethes. “You fucking love me the way I love you.”

If words could make me stumble, I’m falling backwards fast. I force myself to ignore the possibility of any validity to his last statement and trudged forward, “Your mistaken you arrogant asshole! You’re toxin to me. Now unless you have work related issues to discuss, I’d appreciate you vacating my office.”

The door opens swiftly and Michael’s larger than life presence interrupts us. He looks at the paper strewn across my desk, “I can hear the two of you arguing from down the hall. This is a place of business, not a place for relationship rows. Is this going to be a continuous problem?”

“He is just showing his dismay, hearing about us from a third party,” I explain.

“It won’t happen again,” Scott promises.

“Don’t give me grounds for dismissal,” Michael warns. “I’m glad you’re both here. Mrs. Abigail has booked your flights to Owerri. You’ll be spending three nights there, we can extend it if necessary. A car will pick you up at your duplex. I expect the two of you to be cordial with one another, and more importantly, you have to be productive. I leave my office at five sharp and wait in the lobby until I see his car. Unfortunately he is on time. I want to spend every second in the stores. I have a feeling he’s going to select an exclusively rich store to shop in. I have to make my dollar stretch and I also wanted to be stylish. This is truly going to be a challenge. At least, I don’t have to buy a bed.

When I see his car, I hurry out before he can come to a stop. “Waiting long?” he asks.

“No just excited to hit the stores.” I say pumped.

“Did you have a particular store in mind?”

“I thought you’d never ask, I have several. Mind if I drive?”

“Seriously?”

“Darn toting! I can shop in three stores to your one.”

“How so?”

“I’ve seen your furniture!” “Wow, low blow!”

“Is there any other kind? Now get out of the car!”