“I knew you couldn't stay away from this for long.” Anders is looming over me. He has me on my back on his bed with my thighs spread.
I groan as he spears into my depths, spreading me deliciously like he always does. “Oh God, yes,” I cry out, unashamed of my enjoyment of him.
He leans back, taking his hands off of my legs for a moment, and I get treated to a full view of his abs contracting while he thrusts into me. He's so undeniably sexy. Watching him fuck me only amplifies my pleasure.
“Your body was so ready for me. It's always so ready for me.” He grips me around the thighs again, drawing me to him. My hips roll to meet his cock, though it does little good. He's in full control, just the way he likes it. Just the way we both like it.
“Fuck me, Anders.” It's a demand that doesn't need to be spoken. A thousand wild horses couldn't pull him away from me right now.
“Fuck you? Is that what you want?” A smirk crosses his face, and I nearly die from ecstasy as he runs his tongue across his bottom lip. It's so hot when he does that. And he usually does it right before he's about to ramp up the pace. I lay back and enjoy the ride as he pumps into me hard and fast. It feels like I'm in heaven, lying there, staring at his muscular body, feeling his cock pulse thickly inside of me. Yes. This is my heaven.
“I'm going to come,” I whimper as he pounds my clit into submission beneath his pubic bone. An earth shattering orgasm wrecks me from the friction, making me pant and grip the sheets below.
“Fuck yeah. Just like that. Your body feels so good when you come.” He waits until my orgasm subsides before he slows down and pulls me on top of him. The way he does it is so effortless, like I weigh nothing at all. He's so strong. All of him is so strong. I love that about him.
“You always make me come,” I practically giggle, drunk on the pleasure of being with him.
“Now it's your turn to make me come.” He bucks up into me a few times before allowing me to take the reigns. “Get off before I come this time,” he says with a smirk before giving my ass a gentle slap. It's an embarrassing reminder of when I took his full load inside of me in the limousine. I won't make that mistake again.
“Yes, sir.” I salute him while I start rotating my hips.
He places his hands behind his head and relaxes completely, staring up at me as I go to work. I love the sound of his ragged breathing while I ride him. It makes me feel like I'm doing a good job. Apparently, it's not good enough though. He grabs my arms and pulls them behind my back while his cock rockets up into me. Even though he's on the bottom, he's still able to take full control. It's arousing and amazing and just . . .
“I'm going to come again,” I warn.
“Good. Come all over my dick.”
I groan as my body falls into a fit of contractions. His mouth reaches up and catches one of my nipples, which only makes it that much more intense for me. I'm pretty sure the whole floor can hear me screaming in euphoric bliss. And he doesn't let up. Anders is relentless, holding my exhausted body against him and still thrusting up into me like a machine. My pussy is deliciously sore. So deliciously full of him. I feel like a prisoner to his fucking, caged in by his arms, ravaged by his body.
After a few more minutes, his energy reserve runs out, and he allows me to take over again. I feel disappointing in comparison to his efforts. Lazy almost. Even though he's tired, he still guides me up and down on his length, and I let him, moaning and panting as I take him all the way into me and then pull back to the tip.
“You've got an insane amount of stamina,” I comment, hoping it doesn't sound like I'm bored with him. Because I'm not.
“I could fuck you all day.” He grins wickedly.
“I'm starting to believe that,” I laugh, though it quickly turns into a moan when his cock touches on a sweet spot inside of me.
“I live for this.” His hips lift off the bed to meet me, making our bodies collide with every thrust.
“Is that all you live for?” I smirk. Of course, it is. The guy is all about sex.
“I live for you.” The admission is so honest and raw that it catches me off guard. For a moment, I wonder if it's just a line, but he's dead serious. Then he follows it up with, “I love you, Tessa.”
My mouth falls open, and I still on top of him for half a second. Then I keep going, avoiding his gaze as I reply, “I know.”
***
“I know?” Evelyn bursts out laughing. “Flash Lightning tells you he loves you, and you respond with I know. Now I know that hopeless romantic Tessa is dead.”
I scowl at her from across the dining room table. This is a serious issue, and all she can do is make fun of me for it. What a friend.
“That's a famous Star Wars quote, you know?” Martin says from the kitchen, every bit as amused by my story as Evelyn is.
“You two are awful,” I groan into my hands.
“What are you so stressed out about?” Evelyn gives me a sarcastic look. “I thought you lived and breathed for the day he finally said that to you.”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair. “I thought I did, but when he said it, it was just so unexpected. I always thought I'd be the first one to say it. Hearing it from him . . . Well, it's just unnatural.”
“Because he's a man whore?”
“Because it's not who he is,” I almost bark at her, tired of her putting Anders down all the time.
“Eggs for the ladies.” Martin finishes cooking and slides plates of eggs and bacon in front of Evelyn and I. Then he gets his own and comes to sit with us.
“So, you don't think he meant it?” Evelyn quirks an eyebrow at me before cutting into her egg with her fork. The yolk breaks and begins to run over everything on her plate.
“I don't know. It was so heat of the moment. I mean, what guy tells a woman he loves her in the middle of sex. It's not exactly romantic.” I pick at my food but don't really feel like eating. For some reason, Anders' confession of love has had me upset ever since he said it.
“A guy who really enjoys the sex,” Martin laughs.
“Maybe he said it be accident.” Evelyn shrugs.
“No. It definitely wasn't an accident.” I shake my head, recalling what he said before he told me he loved me. I just can't help but wonder if it was another one of his lies.
***
At least he's making an effort to be a good boyfriend. We're at another expensive dinner, and he's staring at me lecherously. I'm starting to feel like this is his way of paying for sex. Wine me, dine me, fuck me. That seems to be his idea of a date.
I wonder if he really does love me, or if it was just pillow talk. He's good at saying all the right things. Vile and sexy things in the bedroom. Blunt things. Things that make my heart flutter and my body awaken.
“I'll be right back,” he tells me as he stands to head to the restroom.
All that's on my mind is wondering what he feels about me. I haven't even really taken the time lately to think about how I feel for him.
Even though we've already been seeing each other for a while, he hasn't lost any of his attractiveness or charm. I miss him when I'm not with him. My body misses him. My heart yearns for his confession of love to be true. But I still don't trust him. Ever since he lied to me about his volunteer work at The Billionaires Club, I've always been uncertain of the validity of the things he tells me.
We've been spending a lot of time together lately. That alone should erase any suspicion that there's someone else. But at night time, he's still at The Billionaires Club, and that does make me worry. It wouldn't be hard for him to trade in the desk work for a client, and I'd never even know about it.
His phone rings, startling me from my thoughts. My eyes dart to where he left it on the table. At first, I think about just leaving it be, but the ringer is loud, and people are beginning to look at our table in annoyance. Slightly frustrated, I reach for it and reject the call. People go back to minding their business, and I sit there with his phone in my hand, feeling invasive and curious.
No, Tessa. Don't do it. Why are you trying to ruin things for yourself when they're going so well right now. It's because I'm worried about the truth. I always worry about whether he's hiding something from me or not.
My thumb taps on the photos button, and I hold my breath, trying to prepare myself mentally for finding a myriad of images of women. Past girlfriends. Past conquests. A guy like him would have stuff like that in his phone, wouldn't he?
The first image that pops up though is that of a little boy. His big blue eyes are smiling up at the camera, and he has some red sauce all over his face. I scroll, and there's another picture of the same kid. In fact, there's several pictures of him. It's not until I get to a picture with Anders holding him on his shoulders that I start piecing things together. They have the same brown hair. The same blue eyes. Holy fuck. He has a kid. This has to be his son.
My mouth hangs agape as Anders returns to the table, and I don't even bother trying to hide the fact that I stole his phone and started nosing through his stuff. I hold the screen up so that he can see the picture I'm gawking at.
“Who is the kid?” I ask when it doesn't seem like he's going to say anything.
“That's Michael, my son,” he replies matter-of-factually.
I'm shocked, even though I expected the response. I turn the screen back to face me, giving the picture another look. The resemblance between them is remarkable. He got very little from his mother. “And you didn't tell me about this because?”
“Because I didn't think it mattered.” He shrugs before putting his napkin across his lap.
“It matters, Anders.” I give him a serious look.
“Why? Do you not like children?” his tone darkens a bit.
“I do like children, but I think this is something you should have brought up, oh, I don't know, at the very beginning.” I glare a him.
“Well, now you know.” He gives me a sardonic smile as he reaches across the table to take his phone back.
“Now I'm wondering what else I don't know about you.” My appetite is completely gone. As soon as the waiter comes by, I ask for a to-go box.
“I like to take the learn things as you go approach,” he says casually, which only upsets me more.
“Anders. This is kind of a big deal. Wouldn't you have wanted to know earlier if I had kids?”
“I know you don't have kids. I had a background check done on you, remember.” He picks up his knife and fork and starts cutting off a piece of his filet mignon.
“Looks like I should have had one done on you,” I grumble.
“Is this really such a big deal?” He nonchalantly takes a bite of his steak.
“It's a huge deal! Do you have anymore kids?”
“Nope. Just the one.”
“Why haven't I seen pictures of him before?” I try to recall all the memories I have of spaces decorated by Anders. There's not a single photo of his family anywhere.
“Probably because you've never snooped through my stuff before,” he sighs, looking irritated. I don't care though. This is important, and it needs to be discussed.
“You don't have pictures of him anywhere. I would remember if you did.” I stare across the table at him. A good father would have pictures of his kid everywhere. This tells me he doesn't care much about his son.
Anders shifts and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. He unfolds it and tosses it across the table to me. In the photo pocket is a picture of the same boy. “I also have his picture as my desktop background at The Billionaires Club, and I have pictures of him all over my desk at work.”
Guilt races through me. That time I was in his office at The Billionaires Club, he had a spreadsheet up so I couldn't see the desktop background, and I've never been to his day job. Why do I keep trying to make him into a horrible person?
“Is there anything else you'd like to know?” He's obviously offended, and I can't blame him.
“I want to know everything. When we get back to your house tonight, we're going to sit down and talk. No more secrets. You tell me everything,” my voice is dead serious. I can't handle anymore of these secrets.