AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER
SIX
Amelia
It’sthree in the morning, and I’m lying in Deacon’s bed in his penthouse suite. His warm lips are trailing along my neck. His hand is between my thighs, lightly strumming my clit while he lazily fucks me. This night has been a blur of incredibly hot sex since we left the locker room. If Deacon wasn’t fucking me, we lay entangled in each other’s arms, talking and exploring each other’s bodies. He got me talking about my life outside the brothel. I told him about my time in Hartford and New York, and how once I have enough money saved, I want to open my own lingerie shop. I've never told anyone about that. At one point, I let him make love to me. It was sweet and beautiful and so not like me.
He’s got me breaking all my rules. I'm opening myself up to him and that's far more intimate than any of the sex we've had. I'm letting myself be vulnerable around him. I’m getting attached and I can't let that happen, no matter how incredible he is or how he makes me feel. This is just a moment of stupid weakness. I’m just acting like this because he has an amazing cock and that is it.Sorry sweets, but you’re falling for MisterGood Dick.Shut the fuck up, you stupid voice. I’m not falling for him.
Before my mind can go any further, Deacon rolls me onto my back. He cages me in with his massive frame, resting his elbows on either side of my head. The loving look in his eyes is making butterflies flutter in my stomach. “Come back to Chicago with me.”
“You're under the influence of good pussy, you don't mean that.” I brush him off. A small part of me wishes it were true this time around.
“Amelia, I want you to come home with…” I put my fingers over his mouth stopping him.
“Deacon, I've heard this speech before. You want to take me away from this life and make me your own little sex toy.” I push him off me and climb out of bed, wrapping the sheet around me.
“Though having your pussy twenty-four-seven is a bonus, that's not all I want from you.” He follows me out of bed and stands in front of me naked. “Amelia, can't you feel the connection between us? It's like a magnet pulling me to you. That's why the sex is so goddamn phenomenal and why neither of us can get the other out of our heads. I want you to come to Chicago with me, let me take care you, and you can open that shop you've dreamed about,” he pleads his case.
“You can say all the pretty words you want, but it's not going to sway me to uproot my life and move to Chicago, only to have it ripped away from me six months down the line when you get bored with me.”
“How could you think I would get bored with you?”
“Because I see it every day in my business. Husbands, boyfriends, they come to see me because the women in their lives don't interest them anymore. You are surrounded by gorgeous women throwing themselves at you. What assurance do I have that you won't lose interest in me when you findsomeone new and more exciting?” One of the things about my job that drew me in was the sex without strings. I get the perks of sex without having to get attached. No heartbreaks, no arguments, no disappointment or sadness when the relationship ends. My heart never gets hurt this way.
“I would never toss you aside for one of those groupie whores.” He cups my face in his hands. “You are the only one I saw in that arena. I want you, Amelia.”
I pull away from his grasp. “Well I don't want you. I never should have come here. I let some good dick cloud my mind for a moment. I'm just the whore and you are just a client. A client I hope to never see again,” I say, shattering any hope he has about us living happily ever after. The light in his eyes burns out, and I can hear his heart breaking in his chest. I'm a selfish asshole but I'm saving him the humiliation of bringing home the whore he picked up from the brothel.
He turns abruptly and walks into the closet. When he returns a moment later, he has a couple stacks of cash in his hand. “If I'm just the client then, here, this should cover for services rendered,” he says angrily, reaching for my hand, slapping the stacks in my palm.
His gesture sends a knife ripping through my heart. I let the stacks of bills fall from my hand, and I bolt for the bedroom door before the tears start to fall. Running through the suite, I pick up my shoes and the bag with my new dress. I’m in too much of a rush to get out of here that I don’t stop to put it on. I fling the door open and sprint down the hallway for the elevators still wrapped in the sheet. As my finger slams down the call button, Deacon comes running out of his suite toward me. He is four doors away from reaching me when the elevator doors open. I dart inside and press the close button repeatedly. They are just about closed when Deacon appears in the small crack. The pain in his eyes radiates to my soul. He yells, “I love you, Amelia,please don't go.” The doors seal shut and I collapse to the floor sobbing. I broke my rules and let myself get attached, and now my heart is paying the price.
After heading straight to the airport from his hotel, I was lucky enough to catch a flight home. A few hours later, I am back at Magnolia and stepping out of the shower. I cinch the belt of my robe around my waist and step over to the sink, wiping the fog off the mirror. My eyes are still puffy from crying. I haven’t been able to stop crying since I left Vegas. I made the biggest mistake of my life walking out on Deacon. All he wanted to do was love me and take care of me, and I let my fear of letting him in my heart push him away. I’m an empty hollow shell of my former self. I wanted to protect myself from getting hurt and, not only did I destroy myself in the process, I hurt Deacon.
Drying my hair, visions of Deacon’s face as the elevator doors closed flash before my eyes. The sadness in his eyes makes the wound in my heart throb. I drop the hair dryer in the sink. My hands drop to the edge of the counter as the tears stream down my cheeks. In anger at myself, my arm sweeps across the counter, sending everything flying across the room. I slump down to the floor, crying into my hands. I'm such a fucking idiot. I think I love him, and I let him slip away before I could see if it was real. No, I know it was real, and now it's gone.
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Deacon
My foot tapsanxiously against the floor of the plane, wishing this fucking tin can would fly faster. The atmosphere on the plane is alive with excited energy. My crew is still celebrating our win last night. I should feel like the king of the world right now, but all I feel is sadness. Watching Amelia vanish behind those elevator doors was gut wrenching, especially after the way I treated her. I let my anger get the better of me. She was scared and defensive, and I acted like an asshole instead of easing her fears. I raced down to the lobby to find her, but she was long gone. Leaving me with an empty heart and a ton of regret.
I'm not giving up the fight. Every bone in my body is telling me that we are supposed to be together. She's mine and I will do everything in my power to bring her home.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
Amelia
There isa knock on my door promptly at seven. The Senator is right on time. I managed to scrape myself off the bathroom floor and stitch myself back together. The scotch in my system is numbing the pain for the moment. I just pray I can make it through the next couple of hours before I fall apart again.
I put my best fake confident smile on and open the door. The Senator is standing before me looking dapper in his dark blue suit. The top two buttons on his crisp white shirt are open and his tie is partially stuffed in his coat pocket. He’s relaxed and smiling. There is a cocky confidence sparkling in his emerald green eyes. His first day on the campaign must have gone well.
He steps across the threshold; his eyes roam my body. The corner of his mouth quirks in appreciation of the view. Red lace bra and thong with a matching garter. The Senator’s favorite. “You look positively ravishing tonight, Miss Amelia.”
