Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

T he last person I expected to see when I walked into this club was her. Bentley Johnson, grinding up on some guy on the dance floor—some fucker who certainly wasn’t me. I was pissed. I don’t recall a time I’ve been so fucking pissed off before. I couldn’t exactly walk over to her and drag her off like I wanted. After all, I’m trying not to draw our relationship into the public eye. Not that I think we’re doing anything wrong. But Bentley doesn’t deserve to have people whispering behind her back about how she slept her way to the top. Which she didn’t. However, that won’t stop people from saying it.

So, instead of walking over and taking her with me, I reach out and grab the first woman I see. If Bentley thinks it’s okay to grind her ass on some other guy’s cock, let’s see how she likes it when I have another woman in my arms. I bring the girl up to the VIP section with me, where I take a seat and pull the blonde onto my lap, hating every second of it. It’s the wrong girl. I should be with Bentley. I should have Bentley sitting on my lap, not some random chick I have no intention of touching.

Alistair slides in next to me with a girl on top of him while Xavier sits alone on the opposite side of us. I watch through the glass barrier, spotting Bentley easily in her little hot-pink dress. She’s walking off the dance floor in the direction of the bathrooms. I look back when Lucy, Xavier’s sister, approaches our booth with Shardonnay. I smirk. This should be an interesting show.

“Xav, I knew you’d come!” Lucy squeals.

“Those two wanted to come here. How many of them have you had?” Xavier asks her, while eyeing Shardonnay, his newest assistant, up and down.

“Lucy, I’m hitting the dance floor,” Shardonnay yells over the music.

“Wait, I’m coming.” Lucy stumbles as she tries to stand upright again. “Come dance with us, Xav,” she slurs.

I grin at him. “Yeah, Xav , go dance with your sister and her friend ,” I say, with extra emphasis on the word friend .

“Asshole,” he mumbles, before leaning into the blonde’s ear, the one currently perched on my lap, and whispering something to her. I have no idea what. But whatever he says has the chick getting up, slapping me across the face, and storming out of the booth.

Xavier is already on his way down to the dance floor, otherwise I’d thank him for getting rid of her. She’s not the girl I wanted anyway. The girl I want is down there somewhere, and now that my friends are both occupied, I’m going to go and find out where exactly she is and remind her who it is she belongs to.

I watch Bentley as she enters the ladies room. I lean back against the wall and wait for her to exit, ignoring the numerous lingering looks from the rest of the women in the line. She’s taking forever, and just as I’m about to go in and find out what the holdup is, she walks out and right into me. I catch her around the waist to stop her from falling. As soon as her feet are stabilised, I grip her wrist and drag her off into the darkness of the hallway. I know there’s a supply closet down here somewhere, Alistair told me he stumbled upon it the other weekend.

“Wait… What are you doing?” she asks me.

I look back at her and all I can see is the image of her grinding her ass on someone else. I can’t answer her. I don’t have the words to be kind right now, and I don’t want to come off like an asshole either. Finding the door, I turn the handle and thank god that it’s unlocked. Then I pull her inside and slam the door closed. It’s pitch black in here. I don’t bother looking for the light. Instead, I use my hands to feel her out before pushing her back against the door.

“I think you forgot who you belong to, baby girl,” I growl into the darkness. Her only response is a whimper. “That’s okay, because I’m going to have fun reminding you.” My hand finds her leg, trailing higher until I’m able to pull her panties to the side, where I roughly shove two fingers inside her.

“Oh fuck, Nathan. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” she cries out as I begin to pump my fingers in and out of her.

“You’re wet. Tell me… is it because of me or him ?” I ask her.

“You. It’s you,” she says. “Oh god.”

Just before she’s going to come, I pull my fingers away, unbutton my jeans, drag the zip down, and free my cock. I pick Bentley up by her thighs before pressing her against the door again. “You’re not coming on my fingers tonight. No, the only thing you’re going to drench with your cum is my cock.” I thrust into her, bottoming out. I don’t move, giving her body time to adjust to my size.

Her arms cling tight to my neck, and her legs wrap around my waist. “Oh god,” she says.

When I feel her muscles relax, I start to fuck her. Fast. Hard. The door vibrating in its frame with each back and forth thrust. “Who. Do. You. Belong. To. Bentley?” I ask her.

“Y-you!” she screams.

“That’s right. You’re mine. This pussy is mine. This ass is mine,” I grit out, increasing my speed to the point I’m not sure the thin wood will continue to hold us. It doesn’t take long before her cunt clamps down on my cock. “Fuck! Come all over me, baby girl. Fucking soak my cock with your juices.”

She obeys so well. Her body spasms at the same time my cock shoots spurts of seed inside her. I lower her to her feet, and it’s not until I pull back and see myself leaking out of her pussy that I realise I didn’t use a condom. I drag my finger through my cum and shove it back inside her. Usually, I’d be mortified by the concept of no protection. With Bentley, I just want to do it again. I like knowing that I’m leaving part of me inside her.

“I’m on the pill,” she says, looking down as my finger slips into her cunt and back out again.

“I don’t care if you are or not. From now on, it’s only you and me. Nothing between us,” I tell her.

I wake up with a dead arm and a live weight on top of me. Opening my eyes, I see the cause of both, and a smile spreads across my lips as a very faint snore escapes Bentley. Gently pushing her hair out of her face, I stare down at her. She really is breathtakingly beautiful, her porcelain skin flawless. Long, thick, dark lashes flutter as she begins to stir.

I roll over on my side, so I can get a better look at her. Then I cup her cheek in my hand as my lips gently meet hers. I’ve never been so happy to wake up next to a woman before. I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want her. I want to shout it from the rooftops, announce to the world that this girl is mine. But I know I can’t do that. I don’t want to hurt her career in any way. I’m also not prepared to give her up. Ever.

Bentley’s eyes blink open. “Good morning beautiful,” I whisper.

“Mmm, morning,” she grumbles. “How long have you been staring at me like a creeper?”

I chuckle. “Not nearly long enough,” I say.

“Maybe you should just take a photo,” she suggests with a yawn and a stretch of her arm.

“Nothing is as good as having the real thing to look at,” I reply. “What are your plans for today?”

“Apart from making the walk of shame? Not much.”

“There is no shame in what we do, Bentley,” I tell her.

“Maybe not for you. You’re not the one fucking the boss,” she says.

“Technically, last night, your boss fucked you . Not the other way around,” I correct her.

“Same thing. Oh god… seriously, Nathan, what are we doing?”

“Breakfast. We need food. I’ll cook.” I slide out from underneath her. It’s not that I don’t want to address her question. It’s just that I don’t want to address it right now.

“Are you going to make that French toast from last weekend?” she asks.

“I’ll make whatever you desire, baby girl.” I lean down, capturing her lips in mine again and letting my tongue slip through her mouth briefly before I force myself to pull away.

“Thank you,” she says.

Winking at her, I pick up a pair of sweats from the closet and then head out to the kitchen to make her the best French toast she’s ever going to have. I’m plating up the food when Bentley walks out wearing one of my shirts. I freeze, the frying pan midair as my eyes trail from her bare feet, along her legs, and farther up. Her nipples are hard, poking through white cotton.

“That shirt has never looked so fucking good,” I tell her. “Sit down.” I place a plate piled high of French toast on the dining room table. I’ve already set out whipped cream, ice cream, and a bowl of mixed berries.

“This smells so good,” Bentley says as she lowers herself to her seat.

“Nowhere near as good as you do.” I lean down and sniff her neck, before kissing that spot right behind her ear. I sit beside her and wait for Bentley to fill her plate before I load up my own. “You know, this is nice,” I say.

“What is?”

“Having you here, waking up next to you. We should make it a more permanent thing. I can clear out some closet space for you.”

Bentley chokes on her food as her hand shoots out for the glass of orange juice. Taking a big gulp, she stares at me with wide eyes. “No. You can’t just spring shit like that on a girl, Nathan.”

“Shit like what?”

“You just asked me to move in with you.”

“Technically, the words move in never left my mouth. I just said you could leave your clothes here. And sleep here. And wake up here. And spend your free time here. And?—”

She cuts me off mid-list. “Really, that’s the very definition of moving in.”

“So that’s a no then? What if I counter with an offer of multiple orgasms. Every day.” I wiggle my eyebrows up and down. The sound of her laughter fills my usually quiet space. I like it. Way too fucking much.

“Tempting,” she says. “But I think I’ll hold out. You never know when a better offer could be just around the corner.” She grins at me.

“You’re a tough negotiator, Miss Johnson. It’s a good thing you’re focusing on corporate law. You’ll do well.”

Her face reddens at my compliment and she casts her eyes to the floor.

“You know, I don’t say these things to get into your panties. I’m already in them. If I thought you were a shit attorney, I’d tell you. But, thankfully for both of us, you’re not shit.”

“Well, thanks,” she says, taking another bite of her food. “But, seriously, what are we?” Her fork points from me to her.

“You want a label?”

“I don’t know. I don’t need a label. But I need… something.”

“You want to be my girlfriend, Bentley Johnson? You want to go steady with me?” I ask her with a raised brow and a smirk.

“Steady with you? Geez, how old are you? Actually, how old are you ?” she repeats her question.

“I’m not old,” I tell her.

“How old, Nathan?”

“Thirty-three.”

“Oh, that’s not that bad,” she says.

“Wait, how old did you think I was?” I ask, slightly offended.

“At least forty.” She lifts one shoulder up and down like it’s not a big deal.

“Forty?”

“Give or take,” she adds.

“Take, a lot.” I can’t help but look past her to my reflection in the mirror that hangs on the wall.

Forty? Do I really look that old?

“Relax, Nathan. I was joking. I knew you were in your thirties. And, no, you don’t look that old.”

“Thank god.” I sigh. “Eat up. You’re going to need the nutrients. I plan on working out a lot today. With you.”