CHAPTER THREE
I’m Everything
Felicity
8:17 p.m.
I hesitated in front of my door. I knew they were waiting on the other side. I was so tired, and I really didn’t have time to deal with their inquisition. I had done things, stupid things, like text my friends about things I didn’t want to talk about or give random billionaires my cell phone number. I was sure I would be adding a whole lot of other things to that list before the night was done.
With a sigh, I went inside.
“Felicity!” Cleo all but jumped me at the door, holding up two dresses. “Black or red?”
“Black?” I pointed at the simple yet elegant dress with a gold zipper up the back.
Nodding, she turned and moved toward the stairs. “Mark, she chose the black one!”
“Got it!” he yelled, and she turned back to me.
“We don’t have much time. Hop into the shower and get ready—”
“What are you talking about?” I dropped my bag on the couch before going into the kitchen. I was about to grab something from the fridge when she closed it.
“I’m talking about your date tonight. Don’t eat, just drink.” She handed me a bottle of water.
“What date?” I took the water from her. “I didn’t agree to anything, and he didn’t ask.”
He’d demanded.
“You said over the phone he would see you tonight.”
I nodded. “He did. However, I never said I would.”
She sighed loudly before calling, “Mark!”
Rolling my eyes, I grabbed a bag of kettle corn and returned to the living room. Before I made it, Mark snatched the bag from my hands and threw it at Cleo, who threw him an apple, which he gave to me.
“Guys!”
“Felicity, are we going to ignore the fact that on your first night out fishing with us, you caught the Loch Ness Monster?” Cleo said.
“The Loch Ness Monster?”
They lifted their hands and spread them wider to give me a measurement. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“You both need professional help.”
“I dated a psychiatrist once.” Mark shook his head. “Believe me, they are way more fucked up than we are.”
“Besides, we don’t just call him the Lock Ness Monster because he’s…blessed. But because he doesn’t exist in our circles, Felicity.”
That caught my attention. “What do you mean?”
“He isn’t a sugar daddy. But the women he’s been seen around are all the same: smart, pretty, successful,” Mark replied as he hopped onto the barstool.
“If that’s true, how do you know he’s…” I almost lifted my hands. Dear God, I’d been friends with them too long. “How do you know he’s blessed?”
“Thank you for asking.” Cleo grinned and raised her phone. On the screen was a grainy paparazzi photo of Theodore on the beach, and a rather large, thick bulge in his swim trunks had been circled and highlighted.
Holy… Don’t even, Felicity.
“Guys, I’m tired—”
“Are you really so afraid you’re going to enjoy yourself?” Mark frowned, his tone a lot more serious than it needed to be. “The reason we signed you up isn’t because we thought you needed a new purse or shoes.”
“Though….” Cleo started to say, but he gave her look.
“For years we’ve watched you work harder than anyone we’ve ever met, and honestly that makes no sense to me because you aren’t saving up for anything. It’s like you just like to work. You don’t go out unless we force you to. You don’t socialize unless we force you to. You work then come house, and when we’re gone, you do nothing but read. You’re twenty-four-years old, Felicity, not eighty-four. So tell me, what’s so wrong with having fun?”
“If you really didn’t want to do this,” Cleo whispered, placing her phone on the counter, “we wouldn’t force you. You know that, right? But it feels like part of you really wants to. So why stop yourself? There is a wild side to all of us. Why not indulge a little?”
Luckily, my phone rang before I could respond, and without checking the caller ID, I moved away from them to answer. “Hello?”
“I have a car waiting outside your place. The driver will bring you to me whenever you’re ready.”
“What?” I rushed to the balcony. The cool breeze felt refreshing on my skin when I looked down, and there he was, hat and all, in front of my building with a white Bentley behind him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I already told you I wasn’t, Felicity.”
“You didn’t—”
“Don’t make me wait long, Ms. Harper. Patience is not one of my virtues.” He hung up.
I stared at my phone, then at the man waiting for me like a statue downstairs. Mark whistled loudly, drawing the man’s attention, and pointed to me.
“Do you think you can wait, like, twenty minutes? Hell, just give us half an hour.”
I smacked his chest.
“Yes, sir,” the driver said.
“Sir,” Mark repeated in a snobby tone, liking the sound of it.
Cleo came back and held up the dress. “Are you going to stop fighting now? Because if you don’t get in that car, I sure as hell will.”
I grabbed it. Stupid mistake number three of the day.
9:25 p.m.
Black-and-gold ankle strap heels. Nude lipstick. A dress I could barely breathe in.
They were my only armor that night. I was going to do this. I was going to just have fun and let loose. Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself as the car carried me to him. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I’d first met him. I didn’t know him, yet I had glammed myself up for him.
“Where are we going?” I asked when I noticed this wasn’t the way to the house Mark had driven us to yesterday.
“Mr. Darcy’s penthouse, ma’am.” He turned the car smoothly down West Hollywood.
“Oh, right. The penthouse,” I whispered to myself, gazing out the window. My hands shook slightly.
What’s wrong with you, Felicity? You’ve had sex before. You’ve had hot, great sex with hot guys before. Theodore Darcy is nothing. This will be nothing.
“We’re here, ma’am,” the driver said before he parked, stepped out, and walked around the car. But I opened the door myself and stepped out slowly.
Theodore Darcy is nothing, I told myself again, even as I looked up at the massive glass tower over my head.
“Welcome, Ms. Harper. Mr. Darcy is already waiting. The code is 4-2-1-3, or would you prefer if I escort you?” the doorman said, as if I had come here a million times before.
“No, thanks,” I uttered as I pushed open the glass doors and went straight over to the steel elevator.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside one and saw my reflection in the glass walls. Pressing the PH button, and entering the four-digit code on the keypad beside it, I gripped the small clutch Cleo had given to me before I’d left the house.
Theodore Darcy is nothing.
Theodore Darcy is nothing.
Theodore Darcy is nothing. I’m everything.
The moment I thought it, that boldness spread from my mind through my whole body.
That was right. This wasn’t about Theodore Darcy, it was about me. What I wanted. I’d come here for me, not him.
“Penthouse suite,” a digital voice announced as the doors opened. There was one more set of double doors between the elevator and penthouse, like a final test of my will.
I’m everything.
I knocked, but no one answered. Turning the doorknob and stepping out with my head held high, I opened the doors and was graced with what had to be the best view in all of Los Angeles. The whole city could be seen from his living room, and the floor-to-ceiling windows made up the entire view of the penthouse. Right outside was an infinity pool, underwater lights glowing in the night.
“Maybe the next time we meet, I’ll be the only thing that steals your attention.”
He was leaning against the staircase railing. He’d removed his jacket, leaving him in only a button-down shirt and dress pants. His hair was messy, and he looked more relaxed than the first time I’d met him. He stalked over to me, and I was sure I had stopped breathing.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
“My friends wouldn’t let me,” I stupidly confessed. Come on, Felicity, this is about you!
“Good.” He held out a hand.
I smirked. “You want my cell phone again?”
“Your hand will suffice,” he replied, still waiting.
“I’ll keep my hands to myself for the time being,” I answered, placing them behind my back and leaning in. “Isn’t that the game we’re playing? You tell me to do something, I say no, yet you get me to do it anyway?”
“Ms. Harper,” he whispered as he stepped closer, his face hovering over mine. “I’m doing my best to be a gentlemen right now, and not the man who wants to slowly peel that dress off and fuck you on my couch, because I know we wouldn’t make it to my bedroom. So give me your hand.”
Just like that. That’s how he gets me to do what he wants.
I placed my hand in his, and he led me toward the dining room.
There was a long, dark wood table. He pulled out a chair and seated me before walking to the opposite end.
“I half expected food to already be waiting,” I said as I unrolled the napkin and placed it on my lap. The only thing on the table was water and bread.
“Léon,” he called, and out of nowhere, a French chef who looked to be in his mid-to-late forties appeared from what I guessed was the kitchen.
“Are you ready to order, Mr. Darcy?”
Theodore looked at me. “There was no way for food to be waiting when I didn’t know what you like to eat. Say it, and Léon will bring it.”
Léon turned to me, waiting patiently.
“Anything?” I asked the man across from me. It felt like a challenge.
“You will learn I say what I mean, Ms. Harper,” he countered.
Ass.
I smiled at Léon. “Soupe au poulet épicé chili peppers avec de.”
“Oui, et à boire?” He smiled, asking what I wanted to drink.
“A Domaine Coche-Dury Corton-Charlemagne,” Theodore cut in with a perfect French accent, stealing my moment.
“Année?” Léon turned to face him, the smile dropping from his lips like he’d just remembered who else was in the room.
“Two thousand five—”
“Two thousand two,” I interrupted, reaching for my glass of water. “If you can manage it.”
His eyebrow rose. “I can have him bring out a 1990 bottle if you’d like.”
“You’ll learn, Mr. Darcy, that I say what I mean.” I winked before I took a sip.
Whoa, Felicity. Calm yourself.
“A 2002 bottle it is, then,” he said to Léon, who quietly excused himself, leaving us alone to stare at each other over glasses of water, bread, and candlelight.
“You speak French?” he questioned me.
“What? You wanted to be the only one to show off tonight?”
“Was that what I was doing?” He turned his glass of water slowly, his green eyes never leaving mine.
I nodded. “I knew you were rich when I saw you at the diner. But you still brought out your Bentley and the driver, who brought me to your stunning penthouse where a personal chef is waiting to make anything my heart desires. It’s a bit showy.”
“If that isn’t the standard for any man you’re with, Ms. Harper, you should get a new one,” he shot back.
“You can call me Felicity. Ms. Harper makes it sound like I’m here on business.” I tried to change the subject because there was no way I was going to tell him the last guy I was with was actually a personal driver to people like him.
“But aren’t we?” He pointed between us. “I want your body. You just haven’t told me what you want from this transaction.”
“But I have at the diner. I said sex, and boom—I’m here.”
His eyebrow raised. “Are you always this forward, Felicity?”
“Forward? First of all, from you that’s funny because that’s all you’ve been with me since I met you,” I replied. “Secondly, it’s not 1920, Theodore. You asked me what I wanted; I answered. But would you prefer I act shy?”
I had no idea where this was coming from. Yes, I’ve always thought of myself as a strong-willed person. But for the most part, I did my best not to even get into discussions with people. Yet with him I felt like we were at constant battle of wills. Toying with each other seemed to be our foreplay for the evening.
“Oh, the mouth on you,” he said, his eyes drifting to my lips. “Witty, rebellious, sexy, and wants nothing from me but sex. Either I’m hallucinating, or you’re lying to yourself.”
“Third option… I’m really horny.” I smiled brightly, pushing it even further, and I could see something change in his whole posture. His gaze shifting from my lips, down to my neck, and stopping at my breasts, he finally let out a deep sigh and stood up out of his chair.
“Léon,” he called again. And without hesitation, Léon was back in the dining room with the bottle of wine.
“Yes, sir,” he said, handing it to him.
“Please set aside our dinner and go home. It seems neither of us is as hungry for food as I thought.” He looked at the bottle in his hands.
“Of course, sir.” Léon vanished.
When he was gone, I started to get nervous. “Mr. Darcy—”
“Theo.” He cut me off and placed the bottle gently on the table before meeting my eyes. “Call me Theo.”
“Okay, Theo, what happened to dinner?”
“It’s been postponed,” he said as he stepped in front of my chair, took my hand, and lifted me to my feet.
“Why?” I asked him, only inches from his lips.
He grabbed my waist and pulled me into him. My eyes widened as his bulge throbbed against me.
“That’s why,” he answered, his hands wondering down to grab a handful of my ass before working their way up the length of my body. “I tried to be good, but you kept tempting me.”
“I was just talking to you,” I whispered, grabbing his cock through his pants. “This is me tempting you.”
His kissed me with no warning, hungrily and relentlessly. Without hesitation, I grabbed his hair as one of his hands worked its way up my black dress, not daring to stop until he cupped one breast tightly in the palm of his hand. I pressed into him, moaning into his mouth. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and squeezed my ass tightly.
We kissed like we were long-lost lovers and not strangers. His very presence overwhelmed me. He smelled like fresh spices, and I breathed him in. He tasted like French vanilla, and I wanted to drink all of him. The passion of his lips made my legs go weak, but he held on tighter. For a split second, I wondered how we must look. This wasn’t just lust. It was animalistic, raw… and if not for the fact that we had to breathe, neither of us would have broken away.
“You….” He didn’t let me finish speaking before spinning me around. I had to brace against the table as he brushed my hair to the side and kissed my neck.
“This dress will look much better on the floor, don’t you think?” he whispered into my ear as he slowly unzipped my dress.
When it slid off into a pile around my feet, I turned and propped myself up on the edge of his dining room table, dressed in nothing but my lacy yellow underwear. As he slipped his fingers between my thighs, I gasped and clutched on to his arms myself. His hand was cold, yet my skin felt like it was on fire.
“I was right,” he said softly as he slipped a second finger in me and slowly moved them in and out of me. I was getting wetter with each passing second. “You look so much better like this.”
I rocked against his fingers, my lips parted slightly.
No. I didn’t want to be just his plaything. I grabbed his belt, not looking away from him as I undid his pants, jerking it dramatically before setting it on the table beside me. That was for later. I slid my hands into his boxers, firmly grasping his cock and enjoying how it eagerly twitched in my hand. “You’re as big as they say. Oh,” I moaned, biting my lip as yet another one of his fingers fucked me.
“Thank you.” He gasped as my hands wrapped around his cock. Our lips were inches apart as we held each other in the palms of our hands.
I stroked him faster as he finger-fucked my pussy, and I fought the pressure building inside me. This—toying with each other, seeing who could lose control first—was driving me crazy. Leaning forward, I licked the side of his neck, sucking and kissing it. He pulled my bra down and grabbed on to my nipple, pinching it hard.
“Oh… oh….” I moaned, closing my eyes.
He went faster, to the point where I was bouncing on his hand. My heart pounded in my chest. Again, he kissed me, his tongue not even bothering to wait for my mouth, tempting me to give in to him.
I lost the moment I let go of him. He knew it, and so did I. With both hands, I grasped on to the table and let his name roll off my tongue.
“Theo… so… fuck… oh… please… ah.”
Fuck.
“I don’t think I’m going to be jealous of anything anytime soon.” He chuckled as he licked me off his fingers. I bit my lips. Watching him taste me like that made me want him even more.
“We’re in a give-and-take relationship, Felicity.” He pulled me off the table. “So give. On your knees.”
I raised an eyebrow, but because I wanted to be the reason he lost control, I got on my knees and took his cock into my hands again. I licked the tip of it.
“Umm….”
Hearing him moan above me was all I needed. Kissing the down the length of him, I enjoyed the way he tasted before taking as much of him as I could into my mouth. I wanted to go slow and torture him. When he worked his hands into my hair, I looked up at him and kept on sucking, gliding my teeth around him.
“Jesus Christ.” He gasped, clenching a fistful of my hair. I gripped behind his knees and sucked fast, letting his cock hit the back of my throat as he thrust. We were in sync, not daring to stop.
“Feli… fuck.” He hissed as he came. I drank every drop, and he watched me.
From the look in his eyes, I knew this wasn’t over.
I was going home with my own wild stories to share.
11:13 a.m.
My back arched as I pulled on the tie securing my hands above my head to the bedpost. He had bound me and covered my eyes before running the ice, which he held in his mouth, over my nipples. A chill went through me. My toes curled, and my breath caught in my throat. He didn't stop until the ice melted.
"Theo…." I begged, trying once more to free my hands. I wanted… no, I needed to touch him.
Ignoring me, he took my nipple between his teeth.
I tried to raise a leg, but he pushed it back down and spread them apart. I felt the heat of him rubbing against me.
"Who are you so wet for?" he asked, pressing hard into me.
"You," I whispered.
"Who do you want?" He gradually began to enter me.
Fuck! This was torture. No matter how much I struggled to bring him closer, deeper into me, he wouldn't have it. Instead, he clutched on to my thighs tighter.
"You," I desperately answered. "I want you. Please fuck me!"
"As you wish."
One powerful, deep thrust, and I almost came right there. He slammed into my wet pussy, and all I could do was wrap my legs around him and take it like his bitch. I loved every second of it.
"Harder!" I demanded, getting excited, and the bed banged into the wall. My breasts bounced freely. His arms were on either side of me, and he kissed me. I moaned into his mouth as our tongues circled each other.
"More!" I cried when we broke apart.
"Fucking hell," he hissed, placing his hand on my shoulder and ramming himself into me more and more.
It was heaven. I had died, and he was my own personal angel, fucking me right into heaven.
The ties on my hands loosened, and I was free, free to push him onto his back. Placing my hands on his sculpted chest, I threw my head back and rode him.
"Yes… oh… I… Theo!" I cried out as I came.
He didn't stop. He thrust deep into me repeatedly before he, too, came.
"God, you’re beautiful," he moaned, holding my waist.
Smiling, I fell on top of him.
"You’re not bad yourself," I said, taking the blindfold off as I tried to catch my breath. My skin was on fire, my hair sticking to our sweaty bodies.
He flipped me over so he was on top of me. “Are you hungry?”
“For what, exactly?”
He smiled wickedly, and it was contagious, causing me to smile in return. We both knew the answer.
Yes, no matter what for, we were hungry.