Followed by a Stranger (BILLIONAIRE BEHAVING BADLY SERIES Book 3) (6 page)

Andrew shifted again, sliding off me
slightly so his chest was only half across mine and one thick thigh was resting
between my legs.
 
He put his hand over my
breast and cupped it tenderly, as he’d done before, but his face remained
hidden in my neck.
 

“I loved someone once,” he said, as
though the words hurt to come from his mouth.
 
“I thought she was perfect but she lied about so many things that in the
end, when I found out about what she’d done, I didn’t know up from down.
 
I couldn’t trust anyone and worst of all, I
couldn’t trust myself.
 
I hadn’t seen
what she was doing or suspected what she was capable of.
 
It made me doubt all my decisions when it
came to relationships.”

“So you came up with the rule?”

“Yeah.
 
And the ‘face’.”

I ran my fingers gently through his
hair, wanting to soothe him in whatever way I could.
 
“Andrew, you know that you can’t blame
yourself for any of that.
 
The blame lies
squarely with that woman.
 
If you saw the
best in her, that only reflects well on you.
 
Don’t you see that?”

“In business I have certainty about
what I’m doing. I know a good decision when I make it.
 
But with my personal life, I just don’t
believe that I can put myself on the line again.”

“How long’s it been?”

“Six years,” he said, moving to roll
away from me but I held him tighter so he’d stay where he was.
 
I knew talking was uncomfortable for him but
now he’d started, I wanted him to continue.
 

“That’s a long time to be holding
onto the hurt, Andrew.
 
Life is full of
risk, and we might not like that, but if we didn’t try and put ourselves out
there, we would live miserably anyway.”

Andrew was quiet for a while,
digesting our conversation it seemed.
 
I
was starting to get cold and shivered as the evening started to creep into the
room.
 
He pulled at the quilt and tucked
it over me.
 

“You’re a good person, Rebecca,” he
said.
 
“And I’m glad that I met
you.”
 
Turning my face, I met his sad
green eyes and felt a lump as big as a tennis ball form in my throat.
 
Andrew cupped my cheek and then his lips met
mine with the gentlest kiss I’d ever experienced. It should have tasted sweet
but it was tainted with regrets and with goodbyes.
 
I felt him pull away and turn to sit on the
edge of the bed to put his clothes on.
 
I
couldn’t watch him leave so I curled into a ball and faced the other way,
wrapped in the soft nest of my duvet.
 
His shoed feet trod lightly on the carpet and I heard him pause in the
doorway, maybe to save a final memory of what we had been, maybe with words on
his lips that he couldn’t bring himself to say.
 

I registered him leave, the thump of
his tread down the hallway, the sound of his suitcase on the tiles and the
front door opening and closing, but I pretended it wasn’t happening.
 
A car engine came to life outside.
 
It was only when it drove away and the flat
was suddenly silent that I finally allowed myself to cry.

ANDREW

I was back in Atlanta, sitting at my
desk where I usually felt most at home, but my mind was elsewhere.
 
I’d been running on autopilot for a week,
since I’d left Rebecca’s little flat with her scent on my body and her hands on
my heart.
 

Fuck.
 
I couldn’t function.
 

I was dying.
 
Slowly losing my fucking
mind.
 

And I was angry, so goddamn angry
with myself for getting caught up like this.
 

What the fuck was the point of having
a rule if you were going to break it?

Barbara had been looking at me with pity
in her eyes and that was pissing me off too, because I knew I was being a moody
asshole but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
 
Work was building up but I kept catching myself gazing out the window
with my mind lost somewhere other than the view.
 

I wanted to know what Rebecca was
doing, looking at my watch to calculate the time difference, eating my lunch
wondering what she was eating for dinner.
 
When I woke unsettled in the middle of the night I thought about her
going for drinks with another man who didn’t have ridiculous trust issues and baggage
like me.
 
The thought of someone else’s hands
on her made me want to put my fist through something.
 

Fuck.
 
I had to find a way of putting her out of my mind.
 
I just needed to forget how she made me feel
and get back to the life I had before.
 
I
needed to drown myself in meaningless sex that made me feel nothing except an
explosive orgasm.
 
Trouble was that I
couldn’t seem to find the motivation to look for it.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out
my flask and took a shot of whisky, finding the taste off.
 
I couldn’t even drink my favourite liquor
without it reminding me of Rebecca.

 
I clicked open my email, thinking I would
review my inbox as a way of passing the time without having to concentrate too
much.
 
There were around fifty new
messages that I knew Barbara would have filtered, so that only the ones I
absolutely had to see would be left.
 
I
started at the top, reading, filing and deleting as required.
 
When I was about half way down I noticed an
unusual name against one of the messages; Whisky Rose.
 
My heart sped, thinking it might be a
coincidence, that there really might be someone out there with a name comprised
of two things that reminded me of Rebecca.
 
The subject line was empty so I clicked on it hurriedly, hoping it would
be her with a fierceness that surprised me and was laced with a shiver of fear
that was all too familiar.

FROM: Whisky
Rose

TO: Andrew Costner

I’ve heard
it said that rules are made to be broken.
 

I’ll be in
Rhode Island on Friday at the Providence Marriott.
 

We broke
your rule once.
 

I want you
to do it again.

I’ll be
there, Andrew.
 

Will you?
 

I’d spent the last week craving her
and now she was coming to the U.S.
 
I
took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.
 
I
had three days to decide what to do next.

Coming soon

HELD BY A STRANGER

BILLIONAIRE BEHAVING BADLY SERIES

4

End May 15

About the author

Hi!
 
I’m Holly Stone.
 
I live, work and write in London.
 
Writing isn’t my day job but I love creating
characters enough to do it in my spare time.
 
When I’m not working, writing or parenting I’m reading, day dreaming
about my next book and
tryi
ng to stretch time like elastic!
I love people and
chocolate and stories that grab you by the heart and squeeze. Before I became a
mummy I travelled to cool places and studied ancient things and danced in heels
and drank gin with orange juice. When my kids are grown I am planning to do all
those things again, just wearing longer skirts!

Contact Information

I would love to hear
from you.
 
Contact me at
[email protected]

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Reviews help authors
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Please leave one if
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It would be much
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If you email me with a link
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This short story is
independently published and I have tried really hard to spot any errors in
production.
 
If you find one, please forgive
me!
 
If you have time you can let me know
the location and I will aim to remove.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to the
amazing people in my life who have shown support and enthusiasm for my little
dream. I can’t express how much it has meant to me.
 

For
my two amazing Beta Readers – C.W and A.Z.
 
Thanks for all your comments!

And
thank
you
for reading.

Like steamy romances?

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Dance
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Short Story Series
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Dance for Me – Story 1

The note said DANCE FOR ME.
 
Annabelle McKenna hasn't danced since her
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“I don’t dance.”
 
Ailee’s
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Happy reading!