Undying Love (9 page)

I fumbled for an excuse. “Um, uh, I was sick.”

His menacing eyes lanced into me. “Don’t bullshit me, Ryan. And don’t ever do it again. You will pay the price.”

With that, he slapped a hundred dollar bill on the table and strode off, his gait a blend of grace and arrogance. I was too numb to move. My own father, that bastard, had threatened me. Maybe, he should pay the price. But deep inside, I knew I could never beat my father at his own game. Or win a place in his heart.

I needed a drink. Desperately. My eyes darted around the bar for a waiter and then they grew wide. Heading out of the bar, was someone who looked a lot like Allee. At least from the back. She had long, ebony hair that cascaded past her shoulders, well-toned calves, and slender ankles. And a perfect ass. Except it couldn’t be Allee. She was wearing a tight, mid-thigh blue dress cut low in the back and matching six-inch stilettos. She walked seductively in them like she was born wearing them. No, it couldn’t be Allee. I must just be fantasizing about her. Damn the effect she was having on me.

“Why, hello, Ryan.” A too-familiar voice hurled me out of my fantasy. I looked up. It was Charlotte with a flute of champagne in her hand. She was dressed in a stunning tweed suit, Chanel I thought. “Do you mind if I join you?” She took the empty seat to the right of me. My stomach churned.

She took a sip of her champagne. “I’m sorry about the other night. I think I may have had too much to drink.”

“There’s nothing to apologize about,” I said without a trace of emotion.

Her classically gorgeous WASP face brightened. “So we’re back together.” It was a statement, not a question.

“No.” I was actually now glad I didn’t have a drink because it might have blurred my thinking and made me say things I didn’t really mean or want to say.

Her cat-green eyes narrowed, and her voice took on a snippy tone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s over between us. I don’t want to see you anymore, Charlotte.”

Her face turned into a glacier. I thought she would throw the flute at me—just what I needed, another gash—but instead she slammed it onto the table. Inwardly, I sighed with relief as she leaped up from the chair. “Call me when you’ve come to your senses,” she hissed before storming out of the bar.

I finally ordered a drink, pleased that I hadn’t given Charlotte any hope for reconciliation. There was another girl working her way into my heart. The complicated, mysterious, and beautiful, Allee Adair.

EIGHT

“W
hat’s she like?” Duffy asked me first thing in the morning before we sat down to review the upcoming edition of
Arts & Smarts
.

“A lot different from Charlotte. She has dark hair and lives in Queens.”

“No, I mean in bed.”

I rolled my eyes. Like I said, he thought with his dick. My silence gave him the answer he was seeking.

“Find out if she has a friend.” Duffy never had any luck in the girlfriend department. The poor bastard needed to get laid before his dick withered away.

I thanked him for covering for me yesterday and then told him to get to work. The magazine was going to press on Friday. There were tight deadlines to meet.

As for me, getting into my work was easier said than done. I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was Allee. I felt different about her than the other girls in my past, including Charlotte. There was something about her that made me feel connected to her despite our social and cultural differences. She challenged me. Made me think. Made me laugh. Made me take stock of myself. Made me feel alive. And made me fuck like I’d never fucked before. I hardly knew her, yet I was afraid of losing her.

With shaky fingers, I dialed the Met and, once again, asked my favorite operator to give her a message to call me back. The jovial operator, who was by now used to me calling, promised to get the message to her quickly. I hung up the phone.

All day I waited for her to return my call. She didn’t. Damn it! Why didn’t I take down her cell phone number? I had no other way to get in touch with her.

At six thirty, I had my work done for the day. I marched past Duffy’s desk and asked him if he wanted to go for a drink.

“No action tonight?” he asked.

“You overestimate me, Duffster.”

One hour later, I was drunk as hell. Damn that girl.

NINE

T
he week went from bad to worse. The printing press malfunctioned, shorting our circulation, ultimately costing Madewell Media a shitload of money. And me, a shitload of grief from my father. Worse, Allee didn’t return my calls. No matter how many messages I’d left for her, including one that I had found her eyeglasses—she had left them behind in my loft when she’d rushed off to her massage client. Interestingly, when I had put them to my eyes to see how nearsighted she was, I’d discovered that they were pretend glasses; there was no prescription in the lenses. I was baffled by why she would wear such big, nerdy glasses when, in fact, she really didn’t need them.

As the week progressed, a slew of negative thoughts passed through my head. They kept me kept me distracted at work when I couldn’t afford to be and tossing and turning until the wee hours of the morning, further affecting my ability to get anything done work wise. Maybe I was just a one-night stand. Or she thought I was a jerk (I’d been accused of that before). Or thought I had gone back to Charlotte. Or I wasn’t her type. Maybe Sid was more than her other boss. Or she met someone new. Or something bad happened to her.

That was the last thought that crossed my mind on Friday. It was eight thirty in the evening; I had been working late the whole week to make up for lost time. Panic gripped me. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? Grabbing my overcoat, I raced out of the office and asked Marcus to drive me as fast as he could to the Met. Thankfully, the Met was open until nine o’clock on Friday nights. I had to get there before it closed. To see if she was there.

The mid-November night was chilly, and storm clouds threatened. My heart beat a mile a minute as we inched uptown. The bumper-to-bumper Friday night traffic was miserable. At this rate, we’d never get there in time. At Forty-Second Street and Madison, I jumped out of the car and began to run uptown. A former track star and marathon runner, I could do it. I had to do it!

My heart raced, and my lungs burned as I charged up Fifth Avenue, weaving in and out of the swarms of pedestrians. If people were staring at this crazed runner, I was oblivious.

When I arrived at the Met, it was after nine. Hundreds of people were flocking out of the front doors. I was panting. My eyes searched the crowd in desperation for her. I hoped I wasn’t too late. Finally, after the crowd had thinned, I spotted her. She was wearing a drab gray wool coat and a striped knit hat along with a new pair of eyeglasses that were almost identical to the ones she’d left at my loft. She looked worn-out as she trudged down the steps. Fuck. Maybe something was wrong with her. I mounted the steps two at time, hoping to meet her half way.

“Allee,” I shouted out to her.

Her mouth dropped open when she saw me. She galloped down the steps, attempting to run past me, but I caught her and held her firmly in my arms. She squirmed, trying to break away, but she was no match for my strength. I studied her face. Her eyes were painfully sad and her cheeks were sallow. She had lost weight.

“Get away from me, Madewell,” she begged. There were tears in her eyes.

I didn’t let go of her and, in fact, squeezed her tighter. “Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

“Madewell, please! Let go of me.” Her voice was watery and desperate.

“No, you’re not going anywhere until you answer my question.”

“I don’t belong with you. You’re too good for me.”

“No, baby, you’re too good for me.” I pressed her even tighter against me.

Thunder roared in the night sky.

“Please! I’ve gotta go home and get ready for a massage client.”

Maybe she had just been overworking. Fuck her client. I tugged hard at her ponytail that hung out from under her funky hat. “You’re coming home with me.”

“I can’t.” She blinked back tears. “You don’t understand—”

“Stop it!” I crushed my lips against hers, hushing her, and pulled her down to a sitting position on the step where we were sparring. She couldn’t resist my assault. Her tongue hungrily met mine, and a hot bolt of energy surged through my body.

Lightening flashed, and another loud burst of thunder followed. The sky opened up, and torrential rain fell upon us. But it didn’t stop us. Soaked, our embrace deepened, the warmth of it fending off the icy chill of the pounding drops. I don’t know how long it lasted, but she was the first to pull away. Wet streaks rolled down her cheeks… tears, not the rain.

“Why me, Madewell?” she asked, her voice hoarse and strained.

“Because, Allee Adair, I’m suffocating without you. You’re the air I need to breathe.” Cradling her in my arms, I removed her rain-streaked glasses and brushed away the shimmering rivulets dripping down her face. Just the mere touch of her infused me with light.

She looked deep into my eyes, hers still watering. “Oh, Madewell, I’m so afraid.”

“Afraid of what, baby?” I held her tear-drenched face in my hands.

Her lips quivered. “That I’ll hurt you.”

That wasn’t possible, I thought as I swept her into my arms and carried her down the rain-soaked steps, my lips never leaving hers.

I carried her straight into my bathroom steam room. She was shivering wet. I set her down and rapidly peeled off her drenched layers of clothing. I removed mine just as fast. She let me wrap my arms around her naked body and hold her close to me as a cloud of steam warmed us. Tears were still streaming down her beautiful face, mingling with the steamy mist. I sealed my mouth over hers and kissed her deeply and passionately. With my lips still covering hers, I lifted her up off the water-coated tiled floor.

“Wrap your legs around me, baby,” I breathed into her ear.

She did as I asked, twisting her long limbs around my waist like a pretzel. I carried her to the edge of the steamy room and pressed her against the dripping wet back wall, just high enough so that my cock could shoot easily into her glorious pussy. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders.

“Baby, I’ve missed you so much.” I studied her angelic face, made dreamy in the steamy haze. My lips latched onto hers and pressed into another deep, tongue-driven kiss. Her velvety breasts skimmed my chest. I groaned as my girth grew between my legs.

“Oh, Golden Boy,” she rasped as my mouth released hers. “Make me come.”

I was going to make her come hard. With my hand, I angled my hungry cock and guided it inside her. Her inner muscles clenched around my hardness. Such a warm “welcome back!” We both moaned with pleasure.

I dragged my cock back down her own steamy, wet walls, and then pressing her tight against the tiles with my hips, I picked up my pace, grinding into her with ferocity and velocity. Her rhythmic moans let me know I was hitting all the right spots. Her legs squeezed tighter around me, and my hands moved to her hips to keep her steady against the wet, slippery wall as I pounded faster and harder. Panting now, she fisted my hair with one hand and raked my back with the other. My breathing grew ragged with hers. As I built toward climax, the steam hissed in my ears.

“Come for me, Allee,” I cried, pining to feel her shudder around me before I came.

“Oh, Madewell!” she screamed out as her orgasm broke loose.

“Oh, baby!” I groaned back. With a final deep thrust that made her whimper, I exploded inside her as her waves of ecstasy rippled around me.

I held her up against the wall for several long minutes, my pulsing cock still inside her, and then set her down onto one of the seating banquets that lined the other walls.

“I’ll be right back,” I breathed. I ambled to the glass door, turning my head to glance at her before I exited. In the cloud of steam, she looked so ethereal leaning back against the wall, with her eyes closed and her long damp tresses falling loosely over her full breasts. The sight of her otherworldly beauty made my balls tingle.

I came back to fetch her, scooping her up in my arms to transport her to the hot bath I had drawn. I gently lowered her into the deep copper tub. The water rose to her buoyant breasts. Scattered scented candles threw off muted lighting, bathing her in a golden haze, and Jason Mraz’s “I Won’t Give Up” filtered softly through the built-in speakers.

“That’s a beautiful song,” she said softly, her soulful eyes gazing up to meet mine.

“Yeah. It reminds me of us.” We still had much to learn, but what I did know is that she made me whole in a way no one ever had. There was no way I was going to let her go. Getting down on my knees, I threaded my fingers through her loose, damp hair and cherished the feel of her.

She shivered.

“Are you still cold, baby?”

“No,” she rasped seductively. “I’m hot. Hot for you.”

My cock twinged. It was aching again for her. Swelling and throbbing. I slid gracefully into the tub behind her. I lifted her buttocks onto my thighs and folded my arms around her taut torso. My hands groped her supple breasts, massaging and squeezing them. As her nipples hardened, she arched back her head and, with eyes closed, hummed to the melody of the song. Her sensual, husky hum tugged at my heartstrings. It came from somewhere deep inside her, a sad, distant place I didn’t know or understand.

Leaving one hand on a tender breast, I sponged her back and neck, alternating the dabbing movements with flutter kisses. She tasted and smelled so delicious. I let the sponge fall into the water. Nibbling the nape of her neck and earlobes, I moved my hand to the soft folds between her legs. After stroking them, I rubbed her clit with the pad of my thumb. Around and around, in firm little circles, the way she liked it. Her nub hardened quickly. Her chest rose and fell as her breathing grew heavy. I just couldn’t get enough of her.

“Are you ready for me again?” I breathed in her ear. I was a ready as ready could be. My cock, a pillar of hard flesh between my legs. A torpedo ready to be released.

“Take me, you fucking son-of-a-bitch.”

Her dirty talk turned me on even more. I lifted her a few inches off me and spread her legs slightly, making way for my thick, hard, pulsating dick. With one forceful thrust, I dove into her from behind. The sudden deepness of me inside her made her yelp. I splayed my hands firmly over the haunches of her hips and ground up and down her warm, wet tunnel. Gripping the rim of the tub for support, she bounced up and down, meeting my every thrust, deepening the insatiable pleasure her exquisite pussy was giving me. I felt my cock swelling inside her as I drove toward another orgasm with single-minded fury. Our moans and groans washed out the music. She was riding me to heaven.