Saying is easier than doing. My mind is completely obsessed with Anders. There's a strange irrational fear that if I let him go, I'll never have anything like him again. But I know that I need to let him go. I have to let him go, or I'll just be setting myself up for a world of hurt.
I can't do it over the phone though. And there's no way I would let him come to the apartment, so we can talk about it. If he gets me alone, that will be the end of me. He's too good with his body when we're alone together.
I decide to do the one thing I know will drive the final nail in the coffin of my feelings for him. I go back to The Billionaires Club. I don't need to see him; I just need to know he's there. Knowing he's there to fuck another woman will be enough to replace my feelings of desire with disgust. It will be enough to drive me away for good.
“Is Anders here?” I ask the two guys manning the front desk.
Part of me is disappointed that Ryan isn't working tonight. I would have liked to question him about the blonde woman whom he claimed was Anders' wife, to find out under what basis he made that accusation. Maybe it's better he's not here though. I don't need to feel any more unpleasant than I already do.
“Yes. He's here tonight. Would you like for me to call him?” one of the guys responds.
“No. That will be alright,” I sigh, my mind drifting twenty stories up to where I picture an unnamed woman with Anders between her legs. There's no doubt in my mind that he's giving her every piece of himself that he's given me. That thought serves its purpose. I want nothing to do with him anymore.
There's no way to combat the depression rolling through me as I turn and walk towards the door. Even though I knew this was going to happen, that there was no other outcome, I can't help but feel upset about it.
I take long strides through the door, fighting back tears as I walk. I hate that I'm being so emotional over something I fully expected. There's more anger than sorrow inside of me though, anger for allowing myself to hope that I was wrong, that he had magically dropped everything just to be with me. Life doesn't work that way though. He doesn't work that way.
“Tessa.”
I hear my name as my foot leaves the curb, and I nearly stumble from recognition of the voice. He never fails to sneak up on me. It's like he has some sort of secret sense that alerts him whenever I'm nearby.
“Anders,” his name sounds bitter on my lips as I turn to him, sucking up the tears that were threatening to fall only seconds earlier.
He's wearing a genuine smile of pleasant surprise. Normally, it would make me melt. Not this time. Not when I know why he's here.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
“I came to talk to you,” I confess, though I don't feel much like talking anymore.
“You could have called me on the phone.” He finally reaches me and stands dangerously close.
“No. This was something that needed to be addressed face to face.”
“Then why does it look like you're running off.” He casts a glance towards the parking lot.
“Because I decided it's not important anymore,” my tone is dark. I just want to get away from him—to never see him again.
“Is something wrong?” his voice fills with concern, and it makes my heart ache. Why does he have to act like he cares? Why is he such a good actor?
“No.” My jaw tightens.
He lifts his hand to my face, gently tilting my chin, forcing me to look at him. At the sight of his intense blue eyes gazing into mine, my body feels weak. Why is it so hard to walk away from him?
“Come upstairs,” he says finally. “You look like you need to talk.”
Feeling torn and defeated, I surrender, following him back into the building. It's as if I'm a client again. He takes me to the elevator, and we step inside, except this time he presses the button for the eighteenth floor instead of the twentieth. I wonder if they've switched his fuck room, but I don't say anything about it.
When the elevator door opens, we step into a short hallway that faces the door to another billionaire's suite. He takes out a key card, swipes it, then opens the door up to me. Inside, I can see the same floor-to-ceiling window that he has on the twentieth floor. The suite is laid out a bit differently, but its purpose is the same. This is where the billionaires bring their clients for sex.
That feeling of disgust returns, and I wrap my arms around myself protectively, not wanting to step inside. The look he's giving me is predatory. I know what will happen if I go in there.
“Let's talk out here,” I say, standing my ground.
“Why don't you want to go inside?”
“Because I know what happens in there.”
“What happens in there, Tessa?”
“You fuck other women.”
“Is that what this is about?” he sighs, letting the door close.
“I came here to tell you that I don't want to see you outside of The Billionaires Club after all.” I can't even look at him when I say it.
“Why is that?”
“This is why.” I gesture to everything around us.
“It never bothered you before.” He steps up to me, and I feel myself shrinking back, though I don't actually move. His hands reach to rub my arms gently. “I've missed you.” As he's saying it, I can hear the words coming closer, feel his breath on my face, and then he kisses me. I part my lips for him almost reflexively, though I don't reciprocate the affection. This is the best attempt I can make at resisting him.
“I'm moving in a few days,” I tell him absentmindedly.
“But you'll still be in San Francisco?”
I should probably lie, but I don't. “Yes, I'll still be in San Francisco.”
“Then there's no reason why we shouldn't keep seeing each other.” He moves even closer, brushing my long brown hair over my shoulder before leaning to kiss my cheek. His hand slides around my waist, his fingers mischievously pushing up the side of my blouse so he can feel my skin.
“I don't want this.”
“But you do. I can tell you do. You wouldn't have come here if you didn't want it.” He cups my cheek, drawing my eyes up to meet his. It feels like there are red flashing lights going off inside my head. Defenses down. Prepare for impact.
His lips crush against mine, and my body goes on the offense, tasting and savoring his sweet mouth. He tastes like mint and man and skin and sin. My irresistible sin.
Within seconds, I'm completely lost under his seductive spell. He kisses my cheek, my ear, my neck, and all I can do is crane my head and moan softly, thinking about how I've missed his touch. This is wrong. It's so wrong. This isn't what I came here for. But it's too late to stop it. My body craves him too much. I can't deny myself.
“You smell amazing,” he purrs against my skin.
I reach behind him to curl my fingers in his short brown hair, holding him against me. He moves to grope one of my breasts, and I take hold of his hand, drawing his large fingers to my mouth, so I can suck on them. This seems to please him. He leans back with that horrible panty melting grin that I both love and hate, and he watches me work his index finger in and out of my mouth.
His eyes are hooded with lust, and I can feel his sex pressing against me. He pulls his fingers from my mouth and claims my lips with another passionate kiss. Our tongues dance together like lovers reunited, and my entire body lights up with arousal from being so near to him.
“I've been dreaming about fucking you since we were last here. When your friend walked in on us, it nearly killed me. I couldn't make it home without coming from you, so I sat in front of your apartment and jacked off in my car,” he tells me.
My face turns about ten shades of pink. “You can't be serious?” I pull away from him with a grin.
“I am serious. I need you that badly. Can't live without you.”
His words make me swoon. Can't live without me. Does he really mean that, or is he just saying it to get into my pants? Whatever the case, it worked.
He backs me up against the console table that sits opposite the elevator. There's a vase with a single orchid sitting on it, and it wobbles as my body weight is pushed into it. Anders doesn't seem to care though. He's too busy pushing my blouse and bra up, and I'm too busy trying to unbuckle his pants. He won't let me finish though. Once he has my blouse over my head, he starts kissing down my body, taking only a second to unclasp my bra and tug it off before he takes one of my nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and making my groin ache with need for him.
“Your body is so hot,” he whispers against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “I can't wait to put my cock inside of you.”
“Clothes off,” I mumble, reaching for anything I can get a hold of.
Thankfully, he allows me to take his shirt off. How I've missed his bare skin, his smooth broad chest, the rippling cut of his abs, his strong toned biceps. Good God, how could I have ever thought of giving this up. He's like a drug. It only took one hit, and I got hooked.
As soon as I get his shirt off, he undresses me the rest of the way. Now I'm naked in the hallway, and I couldn't give two shits if someone comes up to the eighteenth floor and catches us like this. Every second belongs to us. Every touch. Every kiss. Every moment. The rest of the world disappears when we're together like this.
He takes a second to move the vase to the floor, then he picks me up by the ass and lifts me onto the console table. I'm terrified it will break under my weight, but he doesn't seem concerned at all. He presses himself between my legs, kissing me while his hands continue to knead into my ass. For a while, he holds me in place, perhaps worried that my weight might be too much for the small table as well. But then he lets me go, moving his hands around to grope and fondle my breasts while he continues to kiss me.
“You're so fucking amazing. So sexy,” he breathes against my lips.
“I'm scared I'm going to break this table,” I confess.
“If you do, I'll buy another one.”
That's not really the point, but I decide to just go with it.
He kisses down my chest, teasing one of my nipples a final time before he continues the descent lower. I spread my legs for him, wanting him between them more than anything. When he buries his face in my folds, I fear I might scream from pleasure. Instead, I moan, gently raking my fingertips through his hair as he goes to work driving me up to the height of oblivion. His tongue is so skilled, his mouth so hot. I need this more than I ever knew.
“You taste so good. I've needed to taste you. Missed this,” he says into me between licking and sucking.
Oh God. He's too good. It's too good. I bite my bottom lip, moaning out around it, wishing there was something I could hold onto while my body shatters. It's happening so quickly. Only he can do this to me. Only him.
I cry out as my orgasm consumes me, my clit pulsing against his relentless tongue. He dips down to drink my wetness, massaging out the remainder of my climax with the pad of his thumb. My fingers curl and uncurl in his hair, and for the briefest of moments, I worry that I might be hurting him. Then I stop caring.
Breathlessly, he emerges from between my legs to claim my lips again. My hand reaches down to grab at his belt buckle, finishing the job I started earlier. I can see his erection pressing against his slacks, and all I can think about is how I can't wait to have him inside of me. To my surprise, he's commando beneath his pants. I can't help but grin as they slide down over his hips, rendering him naked.
“I need to fuck you,” he tells me, looking completely earnest as he steps between my legs again.
I need it too, but I feel incredibly greedy. It feels like we've been so long without each other. I need to explore him. To taste him. To experience every part of him.
“I need something else first,” I say as I slip down off the table.
He allow me to turn him around, backing him up against the table. I kiss down his body until I'm on my knees, staring at his gorgeous cock. It's so hard and big and delicious looking. I need to taste it.
“Oh, fuck, Tessa,” he moans as I suck on just the tip.
One of my hands cups his balls while the other strokes him. I want to feel him come. Need to feel him come.
He's a mess of raged breathing as I suck him off, enjoying the feel of his manhood stretching my jaw, the silk of his skin gliding over my tongue, the slight taste of pre-seed that's leaking into my mouth. Most of all I enjoy listening to him moan. He's so in control most of the time. Not now though. Now, I'm controlling him.
“Oh God, you're going to make me come,” he warns.
I pick up the intensity, jacking him into my mouth, my tongue dancing across his slit, drinking up every gifted drop before the grand finale.
“Tessa, I'm serious. I can't.”
I know he's thinking about my client sheet, how I marked that I don't swallow. He gently places his hands on my shoulder and tries to push me away, but I just grip his ass and impale myself on his cock, abandoning my need to feel his balls constrict for my need to blow his mind completely. A guttural moan escapes his lips as he paints the back of my throat with his seed. I swallow it greedily, devouring everything he has to offer.
“Oh my fucking God,” he pants, gripping onto the sides of the console table as if I completely wrecked his body. He's trembling slightly, and I feel so empowered that I did that to him. In that moment, he belonged to me entirely. “Oh God. Oh shit,” he keeps saying until he's finally able to control his breathing again. Then he looks down at me in complete amazement. “Where'd you learn to suck cock like that?”
“I read a lot of smut,” I confess with a smirk.
“I wanted to fuck you. Still want to fuck you.” He helps me up off the floor. “Let's go inside and sit for a while. You said you wanted to talk.”
I frown as I watch him pick his clothes up, then I follow suit. I had wanted to talk, to tell him I don't ever want to see him again. What do I want now? I don't know anymore. What we just did was absolutely amazing, but it was wrong. In the back of my mind, I know that. I just need to accept it.
Since I already lost the sexual battle against him, I decide to follow him into the suite. This one has a serpentine sofa instead of a sectional, and I sit myself on it facing the window while he goes to get us drinks. My frown deepens as I realize he's handing me water. I could certainly use something stronger right now.
“I'm moving in a few days,” I tell him, staring out the window and avoiding his gaze. He's sitting right beside me, but I feel pretty confident I can resist him for as long as it takes to get my point across.
“Yes, we've been over that before,” he says matter-of-factually.
“It will be a new start for me.”
He rests his hand on my thigh, and I look down at it. My stomach is twisting with discomfort. This isn't a pleasant conversation to be having, especially after what we've just done. But it needs to be had.
“I don't want to include you in my new start,” I say with a sigh.
“I don't think you mean that.” He doesn't seem affected at all.
“I do mean that. I can't keep doing this with you.”
“Why not? You like it, don't you?” He lazily rubs his thumb back and forth across my thigh.
“Because everything is just about sex with you,” I can't hide the disdain from my voice.
“I like sex, Tessa.”
“I like it too, but I want more.”
“What more is there to want?”
“A relationship.” I feel my cheeks redden as I say it.
“I'm not very good with relationships, Tessa.”
“I figured as much. That's why I don't want to see you anymore.”
“I don't think I can go without seeing you again.” There's a hint of sentiment in his voice that sparks the hope that should not be named. If I decide to believe him, I'll only be setting myself up to get hurt. He just wants to see me again so he can fuck me. That's all it is. He's making it clear. I can't fall for the fantasy that he might ever give me something more.
“You're just going to have to,” I say sharply, standing up to leave.
“Tessa.” He's on his feet in an instant, watching me as I quickly pull my clothes back on. “Tessa, don't do this.”
“Don't do what?” I practically bark at him, using anger to mask the pain that I'm really feeling. I should have never come here. Never allowed him to seduce me like this. It only makes things harder.
“Don't leave like this. I want to see you again. And you want to see me again. Why does it have to be more complicated than that?”
“You were the one who made it more complicated than that.” I pull on my blouse.
“I can't help what I want.” He's still standing there naked, an Adonis against the gorgeous backdrop of the window. The sun is going down over the horizon, and the dim glow that's cast across his tan skin makes him look like a God. My body is hungry for him, and despite the irrationality of it, my mind is still uncertain that this is the right thing to do.
I came to The Billionaires Club thinking that if I saw him here it would erase all of my desire for him. It should have worked. It almost did work . . . until he seduced me again. The coffin door had been nailed shut and ripped back open in the span of a few minutes. I need something else. More for my arsenal of disgust.
“Tell me you've never fucked another woman in this room,” I say, straightening the front of my blouse.
“Tessa, you're not being fair,” his voice is serious. It's all the proof I need.
“Goodbye, Anderson.” I tell him, taking long strides toward the door.
This time, he doesn't follow me.