CHAPTER TWELVE: Chad

I could not fucking believe Zoe was leaving. Again. I had put this guy on his ass for her and she had the nerve to blow up at me and rush out of the restaurant as if I did something wrong?

Fuck her.

That’s what I wanted to say.

Fuck her.

But something in my brain said no, fuck you if you let her get away again.

I tried to race after her. That look in her eyes, the way she stared me like I had just punched her mother, it really hit me hard. I had never expected to get that look from her. I expected shy, awkward maybe, but never straight out hate. And for what? The lowlife that was writhing on the floor and crying out like a fucking baby because I’d broken his fat nose? The motherfucker should thank me. I was sure it would improve his looks.

The waiters held me back for a bit, and the maître d’ told me the police were coming, but I tossed two hundred-dollar bills on the table and pushed past them. By the time I had made it outside the restaurant, she was gone. I cursed out loud, making a few heads turn.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” I screamed at a lady who made sure there was enough distance between me and her as she walked past.

I tried to calm down. I had an image to maintain, after all, and soon my face would be plastered all over the city. I couldn’t let something like this blow that all to hell.

I stood on the sidewalk, fuming as I waved down a cab. I was angry. Fucking furious. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to play out. When I had asked Zoe to dinner, I had intended for a small romantic dinner with maybe a quick kiss goodnight and the promise to do this again. Nothing more. Seriously, nothing more. I just wanted to spend some time with her, catch up, maybe get some closure or just see where things might lead. And to do it the right way. Like the gentleman she wanted me to be. Right now, those plans were as badly crushed as that guy’s nose.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, the taxi dropped me in front of Zoe’s building. I handed the driver a hundred and told him to keep the change. I was less furious at Zoe now, but still seething at myself. Why couldn’t I have just let her handle the guy? I mean, obviously, there was something there that… holy shit… Jesus, Chad… you stupid fuck… obviously that was someone she had been seeing… someone she must have cared for at one time… And I had driven his face into the table…

Shit.

No wonder she was pissed.

Maybe she was still carrying a torch for him.

Maybe I was just wasting my time because of my stupid pride.

“Fuck it,” I said under my breath as I plastered on my best smile and nodded to the doorman, then went up to the desk. There was a big guy in a blue blazer behind the desk, older with a gray buzz cut and suspicious eyes. He stared as I approached. I had waited in the cab when I picked Zoe up. I hadn’t paid much attention to the building where she lived. A fucking doorman? A concierge? Marble floors? Zoe was doing fine for herself. This was a far cry from that little apartment I was giving her shit about at dinner.

“Hi, can you ring Zoe Maxwell for me,” I said formally, giving him my best “I mean you no harm” smile.

“Is she expecting you?” he asked, still giving me a suspicious eye.

“No, but I’m sure she’ll see me,” I said. I set another hundred-dollar bill on the desk and slid it toward him. “Tell her it’s Chad Walters. We were just at dinner and she left her cellphone in the cab.”

He squinted at me for a second, then pushed the hundred bucks back toward me. He picked up the phone and dialed. “Miss Maxwell, Hank at the desk. Yes, ma’am. There’s a gentleman in the lobby to see you. Yes, Mr. Walters...”

Hank went silent for a few seconds, then said, “He says you forgot your cellphone at dinner and he has it.” More silence, a nod. “Yes, Miss Maxwell. No problem at all.” He hung up and folded his thick arms over his chest. He nodded at the door. “Miss Maxwell says her cellphone is with her, and that I should ask you to leave. Politely. Or call the police if you refuse to go.”

“Ah, okay, my mistake then,” I said holding up my hands, taking a step back. “You have a good night.”

Twelfth floor. She said she was on the twelfth floor.

I turned around and broke into a sprint past the desk.

“Hey!” Hank yelled as I raced past him.

I immediately made for the stairwell at the end of the corridor. I threw my weight against the stairwell door and began taking the stairs by twos. I could hear Hank huffing behind me, yelling, but after the first two floors, I was sure I had lost him. There was no way he was going to run up twelve flights of stairs without having a fucking heart attack.

I burst out of the stairwell at the twelfth floor, sweating and panting, and stood frozen at the end of the hall. There were a dozen apartments on the floor, and nothing at all to even hint at which one was Zoe’s.

“Zoe!” I yelled, slamming my fist repeatedly on the first two doors nearest me. “Zoe open the fucking door!”

I heard the chimes of the elevator and knew that Hank had caught up with me. He came barreling off the elevator with the look of a man possessed and grabbed me by the arm. I was about to swirl around and punch him in the face when a door behind me opened. We both turned to look at Zoe, who still looked stunning in her little black cocktail dress.

“Chad, what the fuck are you doing?” she asked.

“I came to apologize,” I said, wrestling out of Hank’s grip. The man might not have been fit, but he was strong as hell, and quickly twisted my arm behind my back and pushed me against the wall. I got the feeling that he was an old cop used to dealing with assholes like me.

“Sorry, Miss Maxwell,” Hank said. “I’ll take him downstairs and call the police.”

Another door opened and an elderly woman stuck her head out. Then a second door, then a third. The ruckus was bringing everyone out of their apartments, and I could see Zoe’s face turning bright red.

“Jesus Christ, Chad,” she hissed, grabbing me and pulling me inside. “Thanks, Hank, I’ll handle this.”

“Are you sure?” Hank asked.

She pushed me inside, a little too roughly.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said and closed the door.

* * *

“Are you fucking insane?” Zoe yelled. “Do you have any idea what you just did? I’m going to be the gossip of the entire building thanks to you!”

“I thought they already talked about you everywhere?” I said, trying and failing at being cute.

Zoe huffed and threw her hands up in the air. “You are fucking unbelievable,” she said, walking away.

I was taken aback, a little surprised at her outburst, wondering if her anger had more to do with her embarrassment than with what I had done at the restaurant. This was a side to Zoe I had never seen before. Strong. Forceful. Powerful. Controlling. I kind of… liked it.

I followed her into the living room and she turned around quickly, pointing a finger at me. “Do you have any idea how much you embarrassed me tonight? I live in this city, Chad! You are going to be on a fucking plane out in a few days, and I have to endure the dirty looks and the fucking gossip columns! I probably won’t ever be allowed into Vittorio’s again!”

“Yeah, the maître d’ was kinda pissed,” I said with a smile. “The spaghetti was a little overcooked anyway, so…”

“Will you fucking stop kidding around!” she screamed, throwing a punch at my chest that probably hurt her more than it did me. “You’re an asshole, Chad! A fucking asshole!”

“You know, you’ve used the word ‘fuck’ more in the past minute than I ever heard you use it in our entire time together,” I said.

She swirled around, angry, and yelled in my face, “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” She punched me again. “Fuck you, Chad Walters! Fuck you for coming back into my life! Fuck you for making me think you were any different than you were before! Fuck you for making me think that I could have a nice night with you! Fuck you very much!”

“Could you fucking calm down?” I said, my voice rising. “I actually wanted to have a nice dinner. It’s not my fault that jackass ruined it for us.”

“No!” she shot back. “You ruined it! That jackass was going to leave us alone eventually. You had to act like some fucking perverted version of Chuck Norris and break his fucking nose!”

“He deserved it,” I shouted back. “And I’m more like Jason Statham.”

“I know he deserved it!” she yelled. “But I didn’t! I didn’t deserve that kind of embarrassment! Damn it, Chad, I’m tired, exhausted, sick of all the shit that’s been happening to me, and just wanted a nice night out. I didn’t fucking deserve this!”

She turned around and walked in small circles around the living room, her head in her hands, her breathing heavy. She looked like she was going to have a panic attack. I reached for her, but she pulled away.

“Please, don’t touch me,” she said. “Just get out.”

“Zoe –”

“Get out!”

I didn’t move. I met her gaze and stood my ground. She frowned at me and shook her head, as if confused as to why I wouldn’t just do what she said.

“I said out!” she screamed, pushing at me, but I didn’t budge. She started throwing punches again, slamming her hard fists against my chest. I grabbed her and pulled her into me, holding her close.

“Let go of me, Chad!” she yelled, still trying to punch even though her arms were pressed into my chest and couldn’t move. “Let go of me you bastard!”

“Calm down,” I said softly, trying to stop her assault, keeping her close.

“Let go!” she screamed, and then suddenly fell against my chest and began to cry.

“Dammit, Chad…” she said, her tears on my cheek. “Just fucking hold me… please… just… hold me.”

* * *

We were on her couch, her head lying on my lap as I stroked her hair. It had taken me a few minutes to get her to stop crying, and a few glasses of wine before she finally calmed down. She told me all about that asshole Mark, and I found myself feeling a strange mix of disgust and jealousy. Some of the things she told me seemed to be right out of one of her books.

“Zoe Walters banging a married man?” I said with a teasing grin, my fingers stroking her forehead. “Who’d have thought that Miss Prim and Proper would have scraped the bottom of that barrel?”

“Yeah, I turned out to be a filthy skank,” she said, her words a little slurred as she readjusted herself on the couch. She was drunk, teary eyed, but seemed to be over the worst of it. Her cocktail dress had ridden up and I couldn’t help but stare at the long legs peeking out. She had kicked off her shoes. Her toenails were bright red. She used to love it when I sucked her toes… For some reason, being this vulnerable only made her sexier.

“That’s not so bad,” I said. “I’ve done far worse on the skank meter.”

She gave me a drunken smile and tapped a finger to my chin. “Like what?”

I laughed and took a sip of the wine. She poked the finger to my nose and raised her eyebrows. “Come on, you brought it up. Revel me with stories of Chad in skank town.”

“Fine,” I said, leaning over to set the glass down on the coffee table. “When you left me, I was kind of heartbroken. Slept my way around, tried to get over you. Nothing really filled that space, though. I ended up getting involved with a woman who introduced me to the rougher sides of sex. S&M, I mean.”

Zoe’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “S&M? You? No?”

I nodded without embarrassment. It was what it was. I said, “The whole shebang. Cuffs, clamps, gags, blindfolds, bars –”

“Whips?” she asked, slurring the word.

“No whips,” I said. “Although a good open-handed spanking is not out of the realm of possibilities.”

“You pervert!” Zoe giggled.

“Coming from the girl who fucked a married man in a public bathroom.”

“Hey, we’re talking about you, not me,” she said. “I never should have told you that story.”

“Again, I’ve done far worse,” I said with a smile. “Yeah, well, the lady that introduced me to S&M was married to this tech billionaire who hired a detective and we got caught with our pants down, so to speak. I almost lost everything, and Martin saved my ass. Since then, I’ve been careful, but I do love the toys, the pleasure, the pain. It’s like an addiction.”

Zoe tapped the fingernail to my chin again. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

I wrapped my fingers around her hand and held it there. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “You were always the kind of guy who needed to be in control. Always on top, always demanding, always pulling the strings. I’m not surprised you ended up using a few toys to up the ante.”

“That’s fucking harsh,” I said, even though it was true.

“The truth can be harsh,” Zoe replied, her voice fading a bit. She leaned her head on the back of the couch and closed eyes. I loved the way her hair fell across her face and the light off her skin. Something inside me began to stir. A feeling that started as a tingle in my chest, then worked its way down to my cock. Jesus, was I getting hard? Holy fuck…

Zoe opened her eyes and gave me an odd look. “You okay?”

I forced a smile and picked up the wine glass to help hide the huge bulge in my pants. “Yes, sure, I’m fine.”

She smiled and pushed herself up into a sitting position, rubbing the back of her head. “Well, I need to get to bed.”

I drank the rest of my wine in one quick gulp and slapped my knees. “That’s my cue,” I said, getting up. I picked up my jacket and held it in front of me. “It’s been great seeing you again.”

She grabbed my hand as I started to walk away. The look in her eyes was familiar, but I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

“Stay,” she said quietly. “Sleep here tonight.”

“On the couch?” I asked. “Or…”

She moved in close, her arms going around my waist, pressing her body to mine. My erection grew. It pushed into her stomach. She pressed her wet lips to mine. She clenched my ass in her hands and ground her pussy into me.

“In my bed,” she whispered, her breath hot in my ear. “I want you to fuck me, Chad. Like you used to.”