AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I watch as he balls one hand into a fist and shoves it into his pocket. He's pacing my office like a caged tiger, unsure where to channel his frustration.
Would he dare come at me?
That would be a stupid and impulsive decision on his part, but I wonder … and if he did, how would I respond? A scene unfolds in my mind. I fantasize that I counter his rage, and wrestle him to the ground—pinning his wrists to the ground with my bare hands, feeling his muscles flex and strain against mine, his chest heaving in and out, perspiration beading on his upper lip.
"I know what you two have done," he says, bringing me back to the present.
"I never took you for a voyeur," I smile, further pissing him off.
"Is this some kind of game to you?"
I deliberately ignore his question and continue, "Back at the Yale Club, were you watching her deep throat those oysters? Or maybe you saw her shove my hand between her thighs?"
Sloane flares his nostrils and he steps closer to my desk. Go ahead, I think to myself. Come at me. Try it. I dare you. But he doesn't. Instead he says, "You better stay away from her."
"Sloane, now you're really starting to sound like a broken fucking record," I say. "Is that a threat?"
"It's a fucking warning," he replies with seriousness. "If you want to stay out of the papers and avoid a media shit storm bigger than anything you've ever seen, you'll remove yourself from her life, and you'll do it now."
He doesn't wait for me to reply and instead, I watch him storm out of my office, slamming the door behind him. He slams it so hard, a framed picture rattles on the wall.
As soon as he's gone, CJ opens the door and peeks her head in. "Is everything okay?"
"It's fine, thank you."
Hearing this, she gives me a weak smile and shuts the door again.
Honestly, I'm more than just fine.
My entire body is buzzing with an electric jolt that I haven't felt in a long time.
I should be mad—Sloane barging in here like a toddler having a tantrum, making impetuous demands and threats.
But instead, all of this has just made my fucking cock hard.
Sloane
After what happened this afternoon, fuck the Yale Club. I need to stay away from anyplace that Drake is part of. Otherwise I can't speak to what my actions will be.
Drake isn't part of the New York Athletic Club. I know that. Because when he tried to join, I was already a member and I blackballed his membership. He never got in. I told him about it afterward, how I fucked his ability to join one of the premier New York City clubs.
So this is the place on Central Park South that I come to today.
To work out.
Have dinner.
Get my thoughts together over Natalie and Drake.
Fuck, to just get the fuck over Natalie.
I mean, I'm Sloane fucking Hardman. I don't fucking get broken up over women. I don't pine away. I don't have a broken fucking heart.
That's not who I am. That's not what I fucking do.
I fuck women. I make them cum. I give them the best fucking sex they've ever had in their lives. I change their world. I shoot them into orbit and take them to paradise. And when their feet finally touch the fucking ground, I'm gone. I've moved on to the next girl.
So then what the fuck am I doing here, all by myself? Retreating into the NYAC?
