“Come in.”

  She opens the door and steps into the room in her sleeping shirt and a pair of shorts. I can tell she’s almost embarrassed by the way she walks. “I know this is childish, but do you think…” Lane catches herself and looks away.

  A bit unnerved, I sit upright in bed. “What’s going on? Talk to me.” I take her arm and pull her closer, until she’s sitting on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

  She shrugs and shakes her head. “It’s stupid. I just had a dream that those guys found us here. I woke up really scared for a second.”

  I can see the redness around her eyes, and it’s clear she’s been crying. Whatever happened in that dream shook her up.

  “I was just wondering if I could sleep in here with you tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor, I don’t care—”

  “Lane,” I say, seriousness in my voice. “You really think I’d make you sleep on the floor?”

  “No,” she admits, looking up at me with a small smile. “You really don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. You were attacked a few nights ago. If you need me here to feel safer, then you can sleep in my bed for as long as you’d like.”

  I mean every word, too. The least I can do is make sure she feels safe. Whether or not that’s the reality of the situation, I don’t know. I’ve had some people look into where Leon and his friends went, but I haven’t had any luck so far. This whole thing shook Lane up pretty bad, so whatever she needs, I’ll provide.

  “Come here,” I say, pulling her into the bed with me. She crawls across it until she’s on the other side, next to me.

  “This is comfortable,” she notes, smiling. “I should’ve come here a long time ago.”

  I certainly wouldn’t have argued with her, that’s for sure. “Here, take an extra pillow.” I pull one from behind my head and place it on her side so that she’s more comfortable.

  Lane snuggles up under the covers and rolls over to face me. For a while, she doesn’t say anything. She simply examines me, her eyes searching for something I’m not sure she’ll ever find. After a few minutes, Lane whispers,

  “Thank you for taking care of me, Everett. I know I haven’t said it before, but thank you. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here. I can be a handful, and bratty, but I mean it. Thank you.”

  Impulsively, I reach up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to do all of this. I wanted to make sure you were safe. I’m just mad that I couldn’t get there before they hurt you.” My fingers trace the fading bruise on Lane’s cheek where one of the men slapped her.

  I start to pull my hand back, but Lane places hers on top of mine so that I’m cupping her cheek. “I’m okay,” she assures me. “Thanks to you.”

  Lane scoots closer and presses a kiss to my lips. The logical side says to stop her before this goes any further, but I immediately shut it off. I almost lost Lane that night, and I don’t have any plans on letting her get very far from me again.

  I’m done playing it safe. Before I know it, Lane could be back home with Justine, and I’ll be alone again. Rather than sitting in my office, beating myself up over what she and I could’ve had, I make the move. I pull Lane closer to me, her small body against mine, and deepen our kiss.

  She practically melts into me, her body fitting against mine like the perfect fit. As we kiss, I feel her hand on my chest, stroking my stomach as she slowly drags her hand lower. It’s a slow, teasing crawl down to my underwear, and when she finds the bulge she’s looking for, Lane grips it and gives it a few tugs.

  I break the kiss to groan against her lips. “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself, Lanie,” I breathe.

  “What do you mean?”

  Rather than using my words, I use actions. I pull the covers from her body and roll over so that I hover above her. Then, I kiss down her neck and chest, making my way south. As I get to her shorts, she lifts her hips and shimmies them down. A second later, they’re discarded somewhere on the bedroom floor.

  Though the light is low, I can see the faint outline of the lips of her pussy, and it takes all my restraint not to pounce. Lane parts her legs and welcomes me between them, where I drag my tongue over the fabric of her panties, wetting it hungrily. She lets out the sweetest moan, the moan I’ve been thinking about since that morning in the art room, and I know without a doubt that this is what I want.

  All of the fighting with myself, trying to keep my needs under control, it all goes out the window the moment I taste even the hint of her juice. My tongue strokes her again, lapping at the front of the material until I’m not sure whether it’s soaking wet from her or me.

  Lane slides down her panties as well, and finally I’m treated to the sight of her. Pink and soft, with a tiny bit of hair above. She’s as beautiful as I could’ve ever imagined, and this time, I don’t hold back my desire. I bury my face between her legs and greedily lick at her, tasting every last inch of her with enthusiasm.

  I feel her fingers slide through my hair before she creates a fist with her hand. She begins rolling her hips against my tongue, and if my mouth weren’t this busy, I might let out a satisfied laugh. I knew she had a little fire in her. Lane tugs my head closer to her pussy, and I happily oblige, sucking the folds for a different feeling.

  I lick my way up to her clit, where I begin rolling it in circles. Lane gasps and clenches her thighs around my head, keeping me even more still.

  “Yes,” she cries, writhing beneath me as she grows even wetter.

  For the first time since I got down here, I pull my lips away. “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she says immediately. I smile wickedly and resume, grabbing her hips and drawing her closer, fucking her with my tongue. She practically squeals when she says, “Yes, Daddy, that feels so good. Fuck, fuck.”

  I don’t have any plans on stopping, and that seems to drive Lane over the edge, because after dropping her hand down between her legs to play with her clit, I feel her start to convulse, her body quivering as she climaxes against my tongue. Greedily, I slur every last bit of her that I can, staring up as she squirms beneath me.

  After I’m sure Lane’s come down from the ecstasy, I sit back and wipe my face, cleaning my fingers as well. I want every last drop of her, nothing wasted. In a hurry, I strip off my boxer briefs, then return to my place between her legs.

  There’s a soft pink blush over her cheeks, and she looks somewhere in the middle of pleasure and sleepiness. It’s both the most adorable and the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve fantasized about this more times than I could ever count, and even with quite the vivid imagination, nothing compares to this. Nothing compares to seeing her blonde hair splayed out on my pillows, or the way she teases herself, hands beneath her top as she twists her nipples.

  She’s a fucking work of art, and she’s mine.

  “Are you sure?” I ask her.

  “I’m sure,” she replies.

  That’s all I need.

  I take the base of my cock and line it up with her, pressing forward and spreading her open. Our moans become one, and the noise fills the room, even after I’ve buried myself completely inside of her. My movements are slow at first, to give her room to adjust and myself to calm down just a little. I feel like a fucking teenager again, way too enthusiastic and constantly on the verge of shooting my load right then and there.

  When Lane gives me the okay, I begin to move my hips faster, working my way up to a steady speed. Her eyes flutter shut and she lets her hand fall between her legs once more. In that moment, I decide that I want to make her come again before I do.

  I take over for her, working my fingers around in circles, massaging her clit as I fuck her. Her lips part and she smiles wide, occasionally rolling her hips.

  “That’s it,” I say, speeding up. “How’s that feel, Lanie?”

  “So good,” she whines, biting her bottom lip and looking at me through her lashes.

  “Tell me it’s mine,” I say, leaning forward and planting my hands in the bed for leverage. I thrust harder, faster, filling her with my cock over and over. Soon, the only thing on my mind is hearing that statement. Her giving herself to me completely.

  “It’s yours, Daddy,” she cries out, wrapping her legs around me. “It’s yours. I’m yours.”

  “Fuck,” I shudder. I pull her close, chest to chest, and let go of everything. I’m a machine, thrusting into her, eliciting more and more sharp cries of pleasure from her beautiful lips, until she finally reaches her second orgasm.

  Lane’s nails dig into my back, and the stinging pain is all I need to push me there with her. I come hard, pumping her full of my load. Shot after shot is buried inside of her, and Lane kisses me deeply, in the filthiest way, as we both experience this pleasure together.

  I don’t want to pull out of her, but soon I’m soft. I pull out and roll onto my side, where Lane nuzzles close to me. I want to say something to her, tell her how good she was, but it would only be stating the obvious. She knows how good she was. The smile on her face tells me that.

  Rather than ruining the moment, I simply kiss her again, softer. Tender. We kiss for quite some time, and I think to myself that I’ve never been happier than in this moment. Despite all the bullshit that got us here, I’m happy with her. I care about Lane more than I’ve cared about any woman in a long time. Something about her just makes sense to me, and once I feel her slowly drift to sleep, I take one long look at her and realize that she is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

  10

  Lane

  Everett is going to be the death of me, I swear to God. Ever since we slept together, it’s been an every-night kind of thing. I can’t go even a few hours without him pulling me into his lap and having a little fun. Not that I’m complaining in the slightest, though.

  I always imagined what it would be like to sleep with him, but it’s completely different. I was right about that dominant side, the one that wants ownership to be given to him, and I love that side. What surprises me every time is the tender side of him. He’s not just rough and powerful, but he has a gentleness that oftentimes makes me come harder than him lifting me into the air and fucking me.

  Desperately, I wish I could tell my friends about what’s going on. I want to gossip about Everett with them like Whitney always does with Shane or Erica does with the string of older men she’s always meeting online. I want to have girl-talk, where we sit around and drink wine while we discuss all the misadventures in our love lives. But I’m stuck with this secret in my life.

  That’s the only bad part, really. Aside from that, every day since that night a week ago, I’ve been happier than I’ve ever been. I wake up excited to see him, and I go to bed completely fulfilled. We’re in our own perfect little bubble together. We make sense.

  The interesting part has been keeping myself occupied until I get to see Everett again. Apparently there are quite a few new clients that he’s working with, and both he and his assistant Vanessa are always busy trying to juggle them all at once. It’s disheartening, but I know I can’t be too selfish with him. He had this business long before I was even around, and it’s stupid to think he’d drop it all just for me.

  So, I’ve been spending all my time at the house messing around with different things. Gloria taught me how to bake her son’s favorite black forest cake, and even though she completely held my hand the entire way there, I did end up making the cake really well. What was more fun than that, though, was sitting down and talking about her life.

  Gloria told me that Everett doesn’t always have time to talk to her, so sometimes she keeps herself entertained by watching soap operas on the television and coming up with weird food combinations. The strangest she’s ever made was a bologna and peanut butter sandwich. I tried it, and to my surprise, it was actually edible. I don’t think I’ll ever make it again, but still.

  This particular afternoon, Gloria and I are working on a bunch of flower-shaped cookies for Everett. From what she’s told me, he always gets gloomy when it gets to be spring time because of all the rain, and I think this will cheer him up. As I start to pipe a bit of yellow icing on one of the sunflower cookies, there’s a knock at the door.

  “I’ll get it,” I say to Davis, wiping off my hands and pulling it open. A tall woman stands in front of me, dressed smartly in a fitted pinstripe suit and a red purse on her arm.

  “Good afternoon,” she says. “Is Everett around?”

  “He’s not here, I’m sorry.”

  “Ah, damn it, Everett. He must be running late. I’m supposed to meet with him at two o’clock. My name is Sidney Dunaway. May I come in?”

  I’m unsure whether to let this stranger into the house, but I decide that Everett might be upset if I send her away. “Um, sure, please come in.” I step aside and let Sidney into the house. She smiles in appreciation.

  Thinking on my feet, I say, “Would you like to wait in his office for him until he gets home? I can show you the way.”

  “I would love that, actually.”

  I lead Sidney through the maze of hallways all the way to the back of the house, where I part the two wooden doors that lead into Everett’s office. He’s cleaned up a bit, and I assume that might have something to do with Sidney stopping by. She takes a seat in one of the plush chairs in front of the desk, and I ask,

  “Can you I get you anything while you wait? A water, juice? Maybe a cookie?”

  “That’s alright, thank you.” I start to leave when she speaks again. “Actually, do you know who painted this beautiful picture?”

  I turn to see Sidney pointing to one of the recent paintings I created for Everett. I jokingly said that he should hang it up on the fridge or in his office, and he took it quite literally. A smile spreads on my face.

  “I painted that piece, actually.”

  Sidney rises from the seat and slowly approaches the wall, in awe. “It’s magnificent. You have an exquisite eye for color.”

  The painting is of a naked woman lying in a bed, and I remember roughly basing it off of the way I woke up alone in Everett’s. I titled it “Lover’s Solitude,” because it was both a pleasant and somber feeling.

  “Well, thank you,” I say, starting to blush.

  “Of course Everett would have this hanging in his office,” she laughs. “He’s always been one for staring at beautiful women. You know, sometimes he tells me that’s the main reason he keeps me around.”

  When she looks back at me, I force a laugh, though laughter is the absolute last thing on my mind. I’m not a jealous person, but hearing this stunning, giant woman talk about Everett stirs something inside of me.

  “Are you two… y’know, together?” I ask. I know I shouldn’t, because I know I probably won’t like the answer, but I do it anyway.

  Sidney gives me a wink and says, “I’d never tell all of Everett’s secrets, of course, but I will say that some of our meetings can be… intimate, to say the least.”

  I try my hardest not to let my emotions show on my face, but I’m failing. I can feel my face start to grow, and I turn around, quickly coming up with a lie. “I think I heard Gloria call my name. I’ll be back.” Before she can get in another word, I hurry out the door.

  Knowing that Everett has been with other women isn’t what’s bothering me. It’s just that Sidney is the very antithesis to everything I am. She’s tall where I’m shorter. She’s dark-haired where I’m blonde. She’s elegant, and regal, and everything that I’m not. Just being in her presence makes me feel insecure. That’s why I have to get away.

  As I hurry down the hall, I slam into someone. I look up to see Everett. “Woah there,” he laughs, holding my hips. “What’s got you in such a rush?”

  The petty words spill out before I can even stop them. “Your girlfriend is waiting for you in your office.”

  “My girlfriend? What? Lane, come back—”

  I run upstairs and close my bedroom door, trying to keep it all together. I don’t know why I’m reacting this way, but it’s this close to taking over me completely. After everything we’ve been through. All the drama of Leon, and us not getting along in the beginning. Never did it cross my mind that he might actually be with someone else. And what makes me more upset than all of that is the fact that I can’t even technically be mad.

  Everett isn’t my boyfriend. We don’t have any labels, or titles, and anything like that. I’m just the girl he bought. The girl he fucks.

  There’s a knock at the door, and Everett twists the knob, stepping inside. “Lane,” he says, reaching out for me. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

  “I can’t,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.” He pulls me into his arms and I let him. I don’t want to, but just being this close to him almost makes me ignore everything with Sidney. I’m so over the moon for him, it makes me sick.

  “Is Sidney your girlfriend?” I ask.

  “What? No! What would make you even think that?”

  Everything just comes out at once. I tell him what she said in the office, and how I feel stupid for thinking that we were ever exclusive in the first place. It hurts, but I even give him permission to have his fun.

  “Lane,” he finally says, cutting off my meltdown. “Lane, look at me.”

  When I do, he has a sympathetic, soft expression on his face. “What?”

  “Sidney and I are nothing but friends. She was joking when she said those things. That’s how we are. She has a husband, and since you got here, you are literally the only woman I’ve ever thought about.”

  I blink back tears. “Really?”

  “I swear on everything, Lanie. I don’t want another woman but you. That night with you was even more amazing than I could have ever imagined, and I would never do something to jeopardize that. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about Sidney, but I was swamped with working with Vanessa to get all these clients taken care of.”

 

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