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How am I supposed to be able to resist this? I clench my jaw in an effort not to bend down and sweep her into my arms.
“Are you upset with me?” Ellen asks in an innocent voice, blinking up at me.
“Why?” I growl, not meeting her eye. She waits a moment, and I can sense her weighing her words.
“Because you left,” she whispers, “after, well, you know.” Once again, she trails off, unable to finish the sentence, but the words hang silently in the air between us.“After you jacked off all over me like a depraved asshole, Ryder. After that.”I wish she would just say the words so I can hear the hate in her words. Her sweetness only makes it worse.
“Last night was a mistake,” I growl through my teeth, still not looking at Ellen.
“A mistake?” she repeats, genuine confusion in her voice. “What do you mean?”
I merely shake my head, distraught and a little confused myself. “I really need to leave, Ellen. I’m sorry, but the client’s waiting.”
And with that, I flee my own house like an utter coward. Fuck! I’m a forty year old man, and yet I’m acting like a child. What the hell is wrong with me?
My eyes fixed on the road, I keep hearing Ellen say my name over and over in my head. But my perverse imagination warps the innocent tone of her voice into a sensual moan. All I can hear is her sweet voice breathily gasping my name over and over, and I imagine that wet pussy convulsing all over my cock as she shrieks with pleasure. Oh fuck, I’m so fucked. I press the gas pedal into the floor as my car screams down the freeway.
Obviously, something needs to be done. I have to move out. I have to create distance between us so that what happened last night never happens again because Ellen deserves better. But even as I harden my resolve, my soul screams because I want the curvy woman more than ever … even if what we’re doing is wrong.
9
Ellen
Ihaven’t seen Ryder for days, and it’s really weird. I think he was determined to move out for a while because he didn’t come back from the office for two nights last week. Where did he stay? Where did he go?
But I never found out. Instead, Ryder made an appearance earlier this week, barely meeting my eyes as he stomped in through the front door. At least he’s staying at the house again, although we barely interact now. Instead, all he does when he comes home after work is shower, change clothes, and leave. And he doesn’t return until the early hours of the morning before going straight to his bedroom and shutting his door. Then, a few hours later he’s up and heads out to work without a word. The whole cycle is bewildering, and I have no idea what to think. This is his house, so if anything, he should be askingmeto leave. Yet, he’s avoiding me like I have the plague, and it’s strange.
I suppose it’s not that weird, seeing that he came all over my leg that illicit night. But I liked it, and I think Ryder could tell since my pussy was gleaming and open, practically begging for his dick. So why the reticence now? What’s wrong?
Ihavetried to speak with Ryder, or at least, at first, I “accidentally on purpose” bumped into him once in the hallway after he came home from work one evening. But he wouldn’t look at me. In fact, I even asked straight out if he’d like me to vacate the premises, but his dark head immediately jerked up, those blue eyes burning. It was accompanied by a barked, “No!” which made me jump, and that was that. I’m staying.
Yet, nothing’s changed. He comes home to shower after work, and then heads out again to who-knows-where until the wee hours of the morning. I miss interacting with the handsome male, and can’t help but feel a little bit unsettled because where is he going all night? Is he seeing other women? Oh god, I would die but I know I have no claim on Ryder. He is, for all intents and purposes, just a stranger who’s trying to do the right thing by helping a pregnant girl in need. A neighbor who I am absolutely and completely and insanely attracted to. And who came to my bed one night and asked to see my pussy so he could stroke himself and come all over my thigh.
But these are just details, and we’ve never spoken about the incident.He’s not my boyfriend, and I’m not his girlfriend. I have no right to be jealous.
And yet, I am.
So now, after another week of avoidance, I’ve decided to do something about it. I can’t stay at home all day, wondering what Ryder’s up to while burning up with jealousy on the inside. I need to know what he’s getting up to. Ideserveto know. As a result, I’ve decided to follow him on his one of his little escapades, and I’m doing it tonight.
At the moment, I’m waiting in the backseat of an Uber parked halfway down the street from the house. Obviously, the driver thinks I’m crazy because I’m clearly stalking someone. But ah, here’s Ryder now. The handsome alpha male leaves the cottage, dressed in a button down and dark pants. He looks gorgeous, his hair freshly wet from a shower, and I duck behind the front seat while hissing to the driver, “It’s him! Follow that guy wherever he goes.”
The old man merely snorts and shrugs, but what does he care? He starts the car and begins to trail Ryder’s sedan, following at a discreet distance of course. The chase doesn’t go on for long because soon, we’ve departed the burbs and approached the city center. Then, Ryder pulls up to a massive garage, and hands his keys to an attendant before striding off.
“Here’s fine,” I say in a rush to my driver. Then I scramble out without a goodbye, intent on stalking my handsome host. But if my plan’s going to work, I need to hurry because Ryder’s immense figure is already several blocks down the long street, disappearing fast.
I scurry along as quick as possible while still keeping a distance, but it’s not enough. I see Ryder turn left into a building, but from this vantage point, I can’t see which one. Squinting, I try to find a nearby landmark as a reference point, and thank god, there’s a large statue where Ryder took a left. There.
But as I approach the bronze memorial, my steps slow because I see that the handsome man’s entered an imposing granite building called the Hotel Royale. Then immediately I duck, because on the other side of the glass doors, Ryder stands in the gilded lobby. Thankfully, he doesn’t see me because he’s looking at something on his phone before heading to the elevators. Then, he steps into the golden box and disappears. Rushing into the lobby like a madman, I see that the elevator stops at the penthouse floor, and looking around, discreetly press the call button then. Thank god, no one seems to notice or care.
My heart quickens as I’m whooshed into the sky. Where’s Ryder going? What am I going to find? And if I don’t like what I see, what then?
The doors open with a delicateping!and I step out onto a lushly carpeted landing with glass walls affording a staggering view of the city. Two men in black suits stand beside the only door in the hallway checking the phones of two tall, handsome men waiting to enter. On their screens, I see a Q code flash briefly, as well as the wordsClub Z VIP.What does that mean? Nonetheless, this must be where Ryder is.
The two guests disappear behind the double doors, but not before I catch a waft of sensual music filtering out into the hall. What is this place? A gentleman’s club? Some kind of high-end cult? But then, the security guards turn to me.
“Can we help you?” one asks in a gruff voice. He’s polite, but obviously a professional. I roll the dice.
“Actually, yes,” I say in my sweetest voice. “I’m late for work. Would you be able to let me in?” The suited men exchange a glance.
