Chapter 29
Daisy
Gatsby spunme around and our wet, soapy bodies collided against each other. I arched my hips upward toward his hardness. He chuckled.
“Not here. Let’s finish and get dried off so we can fully enjoy each other.” He kissed my neck, and I closed my eyes, my entire body clenching. Just moments ago, his tongue had been... good.
We washed the soap off and stepped out of the swan bath. With towels still around our bodies, he took me to his bedroom suite.
“Let me go brush my teeth.” He laughed, and as I waited for him to return, I looked around. Even his bedroom was impressive. Green was the staple throughout his entire estate, and his private quarters were no different. His walls and sheets were the same deep emerald color.
Gatsby Green.
He returned, his towel clinging to his beautiful body, and as he was coming to the bed, a phone rang from somewhere in the other room. He excused himself.
I tried to listen but couldn’t hear clearwords, just his quickly growing irritation. Soon, he came back with a pained look on his face.
“Neal came by. You left your phone at their place. Someone is looking for you.” His voice curdled.
“Who? Oh...” Suddenly, tiredness hit me with such force I sighed. I realized then that we’d stayed up all night talking.
“Who do you think?” He snickered. “You should probably get dressed. Don’t want to worry anyone.”
I sighed. “Gatsby...”
“It’s fine. Maybe you should give him a call? Tell your beloved you’re alright.”
I took note of the tone in his voice as he turned away and went to his closet, opening the door and stepping inside. He hadn’t sounded bitter or angry. He was... sad.
I put my arms around him from behind.
“You’re my beloved. Not him.” I kissed his tight muscular back. “But I do think maybe I should check in.” I stopped myself from implying that Max could be worried about me. On the one hand, I’d almost drowned just two nights before. To have me missing all night would be concerning to someone who cared. However, Max wasn’t that person. Max didn’t love me. He just liked to look at me, and have his friends look at me.
I left Gatsby to get dressed and went to the bathroom, where my dirty, damp dress and underwear lay on the floor.
“Don’t touch those.”
I turned back as he reached for my hand and led me back to his closet. Off to the left was another door I hadn’t caught before. He pushed it open and urged me inside. I gasped as I stepped in.
“Gatsby...” The room looked like an extension of my dressing room at the Theater. Pinks and golds filled the room. I inhaled deeply, as it smelled of sweet pea. This washeaven. He nudged me to go further inside, and as I did, I found a fully stocked closet.
“How did you know my sizes?” I asked, picking up a pair of heels that were, in fact, my correct size.
“Money can get me a lot of things, including information that others don’t have access to.”
I took to the racks and found beautiful expensive dresses, all similar to ones I had at home.
Home.
It wasn’t my home; it was my cage.
This could be my home, some day.
“Pick something, and I’ll take you back to Neal’s,” he said, his tone somber.
I grabbed a dress and found a drawer with both bras and panties and quickly changed, going back to his closet just as he was tying his tie and slipping on his suit jacket.
“I never pegged you for a man who wears suits.” I smiled.
