I take three pills and swallow them, not bothering with water to wash it down.
I toss the case on the bathroom counter and walk to my briefs on the floor of the bedroom, carelessly putting them on before sitting back at the desk in the room and opening my laptop.
It’s nearly 4 a.m., but there’s work to do, and I know I won’t be sleeping tonight. I’m sure there are at least a few dozen emails that require my immediate attention. My assistant will have a list for me in only two hours. I should finalize the other business deal I came here for, although I’m not sure I’m interested if they don’t come down in price and agree to the last two terms.
I sigh heavily and run my hands through my hair. It’s just another day. They’ll bend to what I want, or I’ll simply walk away. That’s how it works in my line of business. And they know it.
As soon as the screen comes to life, her picture stares back at me. I never should have touched her. I’m a bastard for what I’m doing.
My heart clenches slightly, a feeling I’m not used to. I start to feel regret, but she loved every second of it. I made her come alive beneath me. I saw how she became paralyzed with pleasure under me. I can give her that. I can give her the escape she desperately needs.
She’s running away from her past more than she's running toward me. This will help her.
Even as I try to justify it, I know there’s no good reason I should continue this. I know this is wrong. I don’t give a fuck though.
I still want her. And I’m not going to take no for an answer. Nothing is going to keep me from having her.
Chapter 10
Charlotte
I wince as I set my suitcase down in the living room of my apartment.
I’m still hurting from Logan. It’s such a good hurt though. One I’ve never felt before.
My sore pussy clenches with desire at the thought of the previous night. The way Logan fucked me has me going through all sorts of unwanted emotions all morning. I crave the feeling of my body aching, but it was a one-time thing. Seriously, he’s a master in bed--a fucking sex god. I can’t help that I want more. Ian has never been that hungry for my body, nor attentive to my needs.
Selfish bastard. Neither has anyone else I’ve ever been with.
As I stand up straight, a feeling of guilt washes over me. I’ve been running from the feeling all morning, but now it’s finally caught up with me.
Logan gave me the best sex of my life, I tell myself, and I repaid him by leaving him with just a note.
I’m not sure why I care so much. I feel horrible. Like I’ve committed some awful crime. Logan most likely doesn’t give a shit. After all, it was just a one-night stand. And I’m sure he gets more pussy than a cat catcher. We'll never see each other again, anyway.
I set my coat down and begin unpacking when I notice a box sitting beside the couch. It’s Ian’s, and it’s sitting exactly where it was when I left. I glare at it, anger knotting my stomach.
“I told him his shit better be gone when I got back,” I mutter angrily. “Figures it’s still here.”
I feel like going over and kicking it, and then stomping it with all the rage I have pent up inside. I resist the urge. It won’t do me any good. What I need to find out is if he’s been here or not. He could just be fucking with me, trying to piss me off.
I walk into the kitchen and see that his work keys are gone. They were here when I left, so it means he came and got them, but left his box of shit.
I’m quick to grab my cell and send him a text.
You left a box of your shit here. Can you come get it, please?
I want to add on ‘asshole’ at the end of the message, but I exercise immense restraint and just press send. I stare at the screen and wait for a response before adding:
If you don’t come get it, I’m going to donate it to the Salvation Army.
He’s had plenty of time, and I’ve been more than reasonable. I wait for a reply, but after it becomes clear he’s not going to respond, I let out a sigh and set my cell on the table. Staring at it and resisting the urge to smash it with a hammer, just because it reminds me of him.
“I need a cup of coffee,” I mutter, walking over to the Keurig machine, starting it, and then sitting down in a kitchen chair. I bought this dining set right before he moved in. My first meal at this table was with him. I cooked something special, I don’t remember what. I let out a long exhale and try to ignore the painful reminder that I once loved him. I gave him everything I had.
Sighing, I place my head in my hands and try to calm my racing thoughts.