Page 28 of Between Love and Loathing
I wouldn’t be able to get her out of my system. I imagined her pouty lips wrapping around my cock, how they felt so soft and warm as she looked up at me with her forest-green eyes, determined but just a bit hesitant. She’d take my length all the way back, gag on me because she wanted to prove herself. I saw that little fighter in her, and it turned me on the more I thought about it. I pumped my cock harder, squeezed it tighter, brushed my thumb roughly over the head, and came more violently than I had in a long damn time.
Not once did I think of anyone else.
After I’d dried off and decided the only way I was going to get my mind out of the gutter was to work, I sighed at the black suit in the closet. We’d done most of the construction work, which meant that as the CEO of the resort, I had to look the part. I pulled the suit from the hanger, got dressed before calling my driver to take me to the resort. When a text came through, though, I caught myself smiling at seeing her name on my phone.
I rerouted my driver.
I had a stop to make first.
CLARA
Thank every soul that was holy on the planet and in the universe that it was Sunday. I woke to a rising sun on my face in the soft down comforter and a fresh smell of clean linens. But drool lined my cheek, and it stunk like margaritas with strawberries and extra lime. It was getting all over me and the soft pillows. So soft they couldn’t have been mine.
I shot up out of the bed and grasped at the sheet to hold it up over my body while I searched the massive room. A large television, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, and sleek black-and-white decor. I was in a penthouse suite at the Pacific. Had I booked this room last night?
The idea of how expensive that would be had me feeling like I might break out in hives, and I checked my arms immediately, groaning with the pain of the hangover.
“This was bad, bad, bad for your health, Clara,” I breathed out. I’d gotten better about not drinking as much because flare-ups were the inevitable consequence of that particular indulgence. Minding my diet, stress level, and medication and vitamin routine got tiring though. It was painful to imagine life without needing to factor those things in, and those types of thoughts had me resenting the life I lived when I should have been grateful for it.
Moments with a disease were harder to enjoy, but they were still mine. I was getting them and that was enough, I told myself over and over. Most days I believed it, especially with my bakery.
I sighed and shook off my frustration, focusing on my bank account instead. If I booked this room … That would be impossible. The resort wasn’t open. So, I either broke in here or …
And like a terrible movie, the memory of my night played through my mind. “Fuck.”
That was not a memory I wanted, nor a moment I would ever enjoy reliving.
Dominic had carried me back. Jesus, what had I said to him? I groaned, then looked down and saw I had no clothes on. So, I’d also undressed in front of him. “Okay, today, is the day you hate yourself, Clara.”
Even so, I knew now wasn’t the time to succumb to gravity and throw the sheets back over my head. I had a million things to do before this bakery opened.
I only had two months to make this place what I wanted, and after dealing with Dom’s arrogance, I was going to. Own it, he’d told me. He probably didn’t mean owning the ridiculous display I’d put on the night before, but as my phone rang and I saw my mother calling, I owned that I didn’t want to pick it up. I also owned that I didn’t want to pick up my sister’s call either.
My sister called about twenty more times that morning before I finally answered. “Yes, Anastasia?”
“You know, I’m getting really tired of you being there to pursue this idiotic dream, Clara? What the fuck?”
I winced because for some reason, I still wanted my sister’s approval. I wanted to wake up one day and feel like she loved me how she used to. Somewhere along the way that had changed. Somewhere, we’d lost each other, and I hated that feeling. “Anastasia,” I sighed. “I don’t want to do this with you. If you could be happy for me, I’d love for you to come visit and see why—”
How could I tell my sister that without her here, I was better. She was my mother’s replica, but I swear she had to remember the days we would play outside together, run through the sand on the beach, and swim in the ocean like we were mermaids for hours.
“Do you know what those Hardy brothers did to us?” she asked, and I heard her voice shaking with anger. Anastasia hadn’t only been cruel to me over the years, she’d also taken it out on Carl’s estranged daughter, Evie. Evie had married Declan Hardy, and he was not about to have anyone be disrespectful to his wife. So, I knew they pulled her membership to the HEAT Empire. I agreed with their decision.
“Can we not do this?” I whispered, because in the past month, I’d made a sanctuary. I’d manifested change in my life, and I’d embraced not looking back. I didn’t want to. I wanted my life here to be different.
There was silence on the other side of the phone.
“Why don’t you tell me how things are going for you? How’s Florida?” I tried to change the subject because my heart still wanted us to be seven again, back when we were the only ones who understood each other, who knew the pain that came from being under our roof, who could sympathize with one another.
I’d only had a few memories of my father and mother together when they were happy. He played with us when he was around, taking us to the park, to fancy dinners, and showering my mother with gifts. We had videos of him swinging me high up in the sky. He was a charmer who spoke beautiful Spanish and flew us around the world for a few years before we found out about his other family, leaving my mother with nothing.
It broke her and ultimately broke us. She never got over his betrayal, and I remember how she became obsessed with it being our fault.
“If you slouch at another dinner with Carl, Clara, I promise you won’t get another dinner for a week.” She had thrown the warning out, and it hadn’t been just that. It had been a promise. My mother had starved Anastasia and I before.
Anastasia had been older and she’d been smart enough to hide food. She’d share it with me in the middle of the night. My mother made her pay for that when she was finally caught.
“How’s Florida?Florida is fucking awful, and you know it. It’s why you left me here to fend for myself.”
