Gramercy Nights (The Argo Press Trilogy Book 1) (10 page)

“You. Inside me.”

He laughs, pushing himself off the bed.

“Where are you going?” I ask, suddenly panicked.

“Condoms,” he says between gritted teeth.

“I’m on the pill.” This is probably stupid but right now, I don’t care. I don’t want anything between us. He groans then covers my body with his, his smooth muscles crushing me as he takes my mouth fiercely. I taste myself on him, which only turns me on more.

“I’m clean,” he mumbles into me.

He snakes a hand between us, strumming my clit with his talented fingers, my hips bucking beneath him in response. His cock pushes insistently against my hipbone.

“Stop teasing me,” I moan.

“But it’s so fun,” he whispers back playfully.

He places his cock at the slick entrance to my body, the smooth head nudging me but not entering.

“Look at me.”

I do and the desire in his eyes is almost enough to push me over the edge. He’s poised above me, his body stilled, his muscles tensed and straining but I can see his heavy breaths and the exertion this is taking.

Before I can react, he pushes into me completely, filling me and I scream out, my eyes going wide. He’s so big, so hard. He stills, giving me a second to catch my breath.

“God, you feel even better than I imagined,” he growls. “Hot and tight and so fucking wet.” He withdraws only to slam back into me, his balls slapping against my ass. He pauses, buried deep inside of me, giving me a moment to acclimate to his impressive size. And I feel my muscles tighten then relax around him.

“Put your legs on my shoulders.” His voice is a tense command that I obey without thought, suddenly thankful for all the yoga I do. He takes one of my hands in his, trailing it seductively down my body until it’s resting on my sex. “Touch yourself.” His voice leaves no room for dissent.

My hips roll forward, urging him towards action. My touch burns, I’m so sensitive, a heady mixture of pleasure and pain as I rub myself, making my pussy clench around him.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come while I fuck you.”

I shudder as he begins pounding into me. The mix of fullness and pressure against my clit makes my skin flush and the muscles in my thighs tremble. He sets a punishing rhythm, stroking in and out with practiced grace, and I can feel myself getting closer and closer, the pressure building, my toes curling. I squeeze my eyes shut until I explode around him, my entire body spasming, drawing him deeper as I scream out unintelligibly.

“Fuck!” he screams as he shoots powerfully inside of me, the last twitches of my body milking him until there’s nothing left, until he is totally spent, and he collapses on top of me, his breathing ragged against my neck, his cock buried deep inside of me.

My entire body is limp, boneless, sated, and I close my eyes, exhausted, and wrap my legs firmly around him so he can’t withdraw.

When I wake up, flashes of the evening play before my eyes like an erotic movie, and I can’t help but smile as I snuggle deeper into Sebastian’s heavenly bed. I never thought such pleasure was possible. I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.

I stretch out, reaching for Sebastian, wanting to feel him next to me, to reassure myself that last night wasn’t just a magnificent dream. My hand finds only wrinkled sheets. I sit up, blinking in the dawn glow filtering through the muslin curtains and realize I’m alone.

One look at the clock tells me it’s too early for Sebastian to be getting ready for the day. I stumble out of bed, my legs quivering from our night together and slip from the room, searching for Sebastian. My thighs are slick, another reminder of the night we shared.

“Sebastian?”

Silence as I stand, alone in the living room. In the harsh dawn light, the signs of last night, my clothing strewn across the floor, the discarded wine glasses, look cheap and tawdry. I woke feeling radiant. Now, I feel nothing but shame.

Sebastian is gone. The apartment is silent. Empty. He may as well have left an envelope on the bedside table filled with cash.

I grab my clothing from the floor where I dropped it last night when I undressed for Sebastian. I can’t believe I actually did that. Last night, it felt intimate. Special. Now, I’m ashamed of the way I so easily succumbed to his seduction. I can’t find my panties, but at this point, I don’t care. I just want to go home. I wince as I pull on my jeans, feeling the rough fabric rubbing against my sensitive skin. For a brief moment, I consider leaving a note, but what’s the point? He’ll be relieved to find me gone. He can skip the awkwardness of having to tell me to leave. Hell, he probably would have last night if I hadn’t passed out, overcome by exhaustion.

I slip into the elevator, cringing as the door chimes, cutting through the silence and I pray I won’t run into anyone on my way out. Because there is no mistaking this and there’s only one reason for a girl to be sneaking out of a man’s apartment at this time.

This is what I signed up for, I remind myself bitterly as I walk the deserted streets to the Union Square subway station, pulling my thin cardigan tight around my body, but it does little to keep me warm.

This is what I should have expected. He may have made me feel special last night but that was probably an act. Just part of the game he plays. Maybe he gets off on it. The power trip of making me feel cared for only to bring me crashing back to reality in the morning.

By the time I’m home, I’m too tired to change. I just crawl under the blankets. I can smell Sebastian on me, his sharp masculine scent mixed with the unmistakable aroma of sex, a cruel reminder of last night. I close my eyes, wishing to forget it all. Except I know I’ll never be able to forget last night.

Last night was the best night of my life.

Chapter Twelve

I must fall asleep at some point because I’m awoken by a loud banging. I sit up in confusion, briefly concerned that the apartment is on fire. I glance at my phone. The banging continues unabated. It’s a little after six. There’s a text from Sebastian.
You left.

“Fuck!”

I scramble out of bed, knowing in an instant that the apartment isn’t on fire, that the frantic banging isn’t a concerned neighbor trying to save us from a fiery death, it’s Sebastian.

The second I turn the deadbolt, the door swings open to reveal Sebastian’s imposing figure. He towers over me, his hands clenched at his sides and his green eyes blazing darkly. I step back, hugging my arms instinctively around my body.

Without a word, he storms past me into the living room. Sebastian paces the length of the room, his back turned towards me, one hand running repeatedly though his messy, dark hair. He’s wearing faded jeans and an old t-shirt, and for the first time, he doesn’t look impeccably groomed. In fact, he looks like he threw on the first thing he saw before running out the door.

I hesitate in the doorway, waiting for him to turn to look at me.

Finally, he stops and turns, staring into me with a burning intensity. “What the hell were you thinking?” he spits out.

“What the hell was I thinking? I woke up alone. I get that I’m a little new to how you do things, but if you wanted me to leave, all you had to do was ask,” I hiss, struggling to keep my voice down. I don’t want my roommates to wake up and find us out here.

He closes the distance between us, nostrils flaring. “If you want to be treated like a whore, fine. You don’t leave until I say so.”

The deafening crack of my palm striking Sebastian’s cheek rings through the apartment. “Fuck you!” I shout.

Sebastian rubs his cheek in confusion.

“Get out,” I hiss and turn quickly on my heels. My hand burns. I’ve never slapped anyone before but I’ve also never been this pissed off in my life.

Sebastian grabs my wrist, spinning me around to face him. He’s breathing hard, struggling for control, and I watch all the rage melt from his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, suddenly dropping my wrist. He walks to the couch, collapsing into it, his shoulders hunched. “I didn’t mean that.”

“I want you to leave,” I say in quiet rage. “You have no fucking right to come into my house and call me a whore. I’m done. Last night was a mistake. Now get out.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m serious, Sebastian. I thought I could do this, but I was obviously wrong.”

“Danielle, I’m so sorry.” His wide green eyes stare at me, pleadingly, but I don’t budge. He curses under his breath, running his hands through his hair. “I shouldn’t have left. I had an important phone call I had to take. The only reason I went up to the roof was so I wouldn’t wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t think you’d wake up. When I came back down and realized you’d left…” he trails off, staring at his hands on his lap. When he finally looks up, I can see the sorrow in his eyes. “I thought something had happened.”

“What in God’s name do you really think could have happened to me? I’m a grown woman, Sebastian. Perfectly capable of getting home on my own.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I thought you changed your mind. That after last night you’d realized you’d made a mistake. That you regretted it…”

“I didn’t regret a thing until I woke up. Alone. You keep telling me that I’m not a whore. And then you keep treating me like one,” I say, surprised by my honesty. “Last night…” I trail off. I don’t know what I want to tell him. That last night was one of the most amazing nights of my life and then to wake up, alone, made me feel like I’d imagined it all? That he’d made me feel so special and then this morning was like a slap in my face, reminding me that I’m nothing? I felt dirty and used.

Sebastian watches me, waiting for me to continue. But I’m not telling him any of that. He’s hurt me enough for one day. I don’t want him to know just how much. And how easily.

“I’m sorry. What can I do to make it up to you? Anything. Just tell me.”

“Do you want some coffee?” I ask finally, changing the subject. I don’t want to talk about how this morning made me feel. When he nods, I leave the room, thankful to get away from him, even if it’s only for a second. I put on the kettle and pull out my French press, knowing I should have made him leave when I had the chance, but something about the way he looked at me, the pain in his eyes, made me relent.

I thrust a mug at him. “There’s no milk,” I say and sink into a nearby chair.

“I don’t take my coffee with milk,” he mumbles, cradling the cup in his hands.

I sip the scalding liquid, happy for the distraction, and Sebastian seems to feel the same because all of his focus is locked on the cup in his hands.

When he finally takes a sip, he smiles grimly and says, “It’s great,” those two words spoken like a peace offering. I just nod. Of course I make a good cup of coffee.

He looks up from his coffee, taking in my living room for the first time since storming in. The walls are painted pale blue, not exactly the color we were aiming for when our landlord offered to re-paint, but a definite improvement over the dirty cream they’d been before, and his eyes trail over the ratty sofa he’s sitting on. The room is sparsely furnished, more out of necessity than style, and none of us have gotten around to doing anything about it, no matter how many times we’ve sworn we’d go to IKEA.

“How many roommates do you have?”

“There are three of us.”

He nods, taking another sip of his coffee. “It’s nice.” I want to laugh at the absurdity of Sebastian complimenting my apartment. “It’s big,” he adds finally and I want to laugh.

“You haven’t seen my room.” One eyebrow shoots up and now I do laugh. “It’s pretty much a closet.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Two years.”

“I like it.”

I shrug, checking the time on my phone. I don’t want Sebastian to leave just yet, but my roommates will be waking up soon.

Sebastian puts his coffee mug down on the floor and stands. “I should go,” he says stiffly, hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Come with me. Please.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He stares at me for a moment before nodding his head sadly. “Okay.”

I shut the door behind Sebastian and walk back to my bedroom and crawl under the covers. I have no idea what to think, but I can’t help but worry that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.

Chapter Thirteen

When I the door slams shut behind Chloe and Laura, I finally venture out of my room, thankful that I have the apartment all to myself. Everything about this morning was strange and intense and confusing. I make a cup of coffee and take it into the living room, sitting in the same spot where Sebastian sat not long before. I made the right decision letting him walk out the door, alone, but there’s a part of me that wishes I’d gone with him.

Everything about this situation sucks. Sebastian has been nothing but forthcoming about his expectations and I knew what I was getting into when I signed those documents and agreed to his terms. Still, the vitriol in his voice when he called me a whore hurt in ways I wasn’t expecting. Last night, I was able to pretend it was something more than a sordid business transaction, that on some level, even if he doesn’t want to date me, at least he respects me as a person. But he made it abundantly clear that isn’t the case.