I rolled over to the find the bed empty, but that didn’t take away the luxury of it. No, I revelled in the blankets and the sunlight streaming in through the beautiful glass wall of the condo. I didn’t realize his bedroom had one too, last night we were far too busy for any of that. I just sighed and looked at it then around the room. It was empty. The whole apartment felt empty. No noise of someone moving about the place. No television or rustling of papers.
I felt empty.
I got up from the bed and looked down at the scene played out before me. My dress, that mask, his suit. It was all strewn about the place. The only evidence of what happened last night.
Of all the things, he made me feel.
I walked towards the bathroom and saw, in his chair, a set of neatly folded clothing and a note.
I picked it up and smiled when I saw his handwriting.
Have work this morning. Wanted to stay and hold you, but it couldn’t be helped. Fresh clothing for you. Stay as long as you like. I’d love to see you when I got home.
I remembered what he said “I want you to live for my pleasure.” The rush of feeling that hit me in my center knew I wanted it too. I shouldn’t, I should not have wanted it. I should not have wanted the touch of his lips against mine. Against me. I should’ve avoided him. I had half a mind to walk out of there right now and never look back.
But I knew in the end that I could fight and fight these feelings, but I wasn’t going to win. I was never going to win. I wanted to feel him. I wanted to see him.
I wanted to know exactly who he was.
I looked at the clothing he left for me. A long men’s t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. I could get home in that, but I didn’t know if I wanted to. I touched the place the mask bit into my flesh last night and remembered the way he kissed my cheek.
I wanted to be right back there in that instant. Instead, I took his shirt to my face and breathed it in. I could still smell him, his detergent, his scent. Comfort complete.
Then I set it down and walked into the master bath, my jaw dropping as I looked around. It was better than most spas I’d ever been in. Bigger than my entire apartment. My eyes set sight on the giant tub, big enough to fit two or three people and I had to stop from salivating. Dear lord, it was gorgeous. I knew what I was going to do until he got home. Forget my papers, forget reading, hell, forget anything else but this tub for an hour or two.
Instead of the peace and quiet I was hoping for I heard a knock on the door, the angry pounding making me jump right out of my skin. I had half a mind to go out there and start yelling at them.
Then it occurred to me that I wasn't at my own place, and I probably had no idea who was out there. I probably also didn’t want to know who was out there.
I threw on the clothing Greyson left and padded to the door looking out of the peephole.
Motherf*ck
er.
"Open the damn door, Joanna. I know you are in there." I saw the frown on my uncle's face and glared at the door. I didn't want him in here. I didn't want him anywhere near me.
"Go away," I said finally leaning against the door. "You can't be here."
It was the f*ck
ing home of his rival's son. Why would he even attempt to come here.
"You know I can go wherever the f*ck
I want. Now, you can either let me in, or I can have this conversation out in the middle of the foyer, and let the whole complex know what a whore you are." The bite of his anger stung. I didn't want to be in the path of it.
I opened the door, and crossed my arms, "that was totally unnecessary."
"But it got your attention." He said as he walked into the condo and looked around. "Well, I have to say, the motherf*ck
er sure has good taste."
He sat down in a very expensive looking leather chair and crossed his legs, looking at me.
"What do you want?" I asked.
“I'm impressed. I told you to get to know them, to learn about them, and you made a beeline right for the next in line.” His vision narrowed. “It wasn’t what I expected, but we can certainly work with it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“The best way to get a permanent link to the damn Fitzgeralds. You. You will marry Greyson Fitzgerald.”
I crossed my arms and bit my lip. Marrying any man, especially not a future mob boss, was not on my agenda. I had a Ph.D. to finish, and I should’ve been at school even now writing papers and finishing my reading. I was already starting to get behind.
No, my plans had very little room for a man.
“I have no intention of marrying anyone.” I said, taking control of myself for the first time in days. “I’m not your lapdog, and I won’t do it.”