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IT REMINDED ME OF HISfirst card with ten floral arrangements three days before Christmas. That card read:
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THE PAST IS CONSIDEREDthe past for a reason. Pleasuring your body, consuming you, and choking you with a mouthful of my cock doesn’t require you to be stuck in the past. Cut the ties. No strings.
Yours,
K.
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ICALLED HIM TO THANKhim and let him know he hadn’t needed to do that. He used that call to remind me that I hadn’t agreed to resume our arrangement and that he was coming after me. The champagne and flowers were just a reminder.
Although I’d fussed at him, telling him that I didn’t want to spoil our Christmas by arguing, I was turned on by his efforts and how dominant and demanding the man was.
Our phone conversation hadn’t lasted long because he was spending time with his family, and I was getting ready to spend time with mine.
He showed up at my apartment the day after Christmas, and we’ve been almost inseparable since. Every day he picks me up with Nigel at the wheel, and we explore a different part of Charleston.
Seeing everything I’ve grown up seeing since I was a child but with someone else by my side is interesting.
From museum and historic mansion tours during the day and pub crawls and ghost tours at night, we’ve acted like tourists in our hometown. We’ve eaten at hole-in-the-wall restaurants and acted like giddy teenagers.
We’ve kissed and made out on my couch but haven’t had sex again. I can’t wait, but I think he’s trying to show me that he wants more from me.
I have never readily clicked with someone in such a short amount of time. I look forward to every phone call to say “good morning” and every late-night call to let me know he’s made it in after dropping me off.
Neither of us has been to work, choosing instead to spend our holiday vacation with one another.
I’ve had a blast with Kincaid, but neither of us has spoken about the elephant in the room, Lauren.
I did receive a phone call the day after Christmas from Sydney again. She called from a different number, one that was unknown and that I hadn’t blocked.
She said I needed to speak with her or her mother; they wanted to talk to me in person. I reminded her that we had nothing to say to one another and that please don’t call me again. After that, I hung up and instantly called my service provider and requested a change to my phone number. Once that was complete, I made a mental reminder never to answer calls from unknown numbers again.
It's New Year’s Eve, and I’m lounging around my apartment with nothing to do. My best friend, Chloe, is in Mexico with her boyfriend, and Kincaid is probably working.
I’ve read a book, watched a movie, and taken a nap, and it’s only eleven o’clock in the morning. My mother and stepfather have their annual New Year’s Eve ball, but I’ve declined the invitation.
I had more than enough of her on Christmas Day. I love my mother, but she can be overbearing, opinionated, and judgmental. She can only be taken in small doses.
I didn’t get my morning call from Kincaid, and I wonder what he’s up to tonight. We didn’t talk about New Year's Eve plans, and I thought we might hang out together, but maybe I’m wrong.
Maybe he’s hanging out with someone else. Jealousy pounds in my heart, and I know I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it. I like him more than I anticipated.
It scares me because I know I’ll get hurt in the end. I’ve dated wealthy men, but none as wealthy and powerful as Kincaid Maxwell. He’s in an elite group that far surpasses my family’s.
Women love him, and guys adore him. Whenever we go out, women openly and boldly flirt with him right in my face.
It seems to embarrass him as he turns down their advances or just ignores them. He makes me feel as if I’m the most special girl in the world, the only girl, really.
I’m dozing off again when my doorbell rings. I stretch on the couch, yawn, and glance at the clock over the fireplace. It’s a little after noon, and I wonder who this might be.
Heading to the door, I frown when I peer out and spot a woman dressed in a red A-line dress, a cashmere coat, and black heels. She’s consulting an iPad, and when I peer behind her, I see two other women and a man.
What in the hell?
Pulling my door open, I greet, “Yes?”
