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If this was simply payback, why did I feel so fucking horrible? I thought briefly about going to apologize, but when I heard the door of the other bedroom slam, I decided to let it go. She was the one to tell me what she wanted, and I gave it to her. Granted, she hadn’t asked for that last part, but since she seemed to enjoy it before, I gave her that as well.
I growled as memories of those pictures came flooding back. In the weeks and months that followed, I had wanted to go to Oregon, even going as far as asking my parents if I could fly out there, but they wouldn’t let me.
All of my memories of her ended with those fucking photographs, the reminder glaringly obvious each time I logged onto social media afterward to find no traces of her. She’d blocked me from everything, essentially cutting me out of her life. She had seemed fine with keeping it that way over the last decade, so what the hell was she doing here now.
She kept trying to tell me something, but I would cut her off. What could she possibly know that I didn’t? And if she strongly believed that to be true, why didn’t she just call the authorities.
It made no fucking sense. There was an ulterior motive to her coming here. She had to be playing some sort of angle. If she was, I refused to play into her hands.
I let out a string of curses under my breath as I strode into my bathroom. I turned the water to the hottest setting available, then removed my sweats. When I looked into the mirror at my reflection, there was a wild look in my eyes. I wasn’t even recognizable to myself in this moment.
My gaze was dark as night, and my jaw clenched so damn tightly I was worried it might break if I didn’t clear my damn head. I shook it wryly, then entered the shower. As the scalding spray pelted my skin, I leaned against the wall. I pressed my forehead to the tile and stood there as my nerves started to settle.
I closed my eyes and started with the pool table where I had fucked her again for the first time. It wasn’t long before I thought about the fireplace and how spooked she’d gotten over seemingly nothing. I knew women, and she had been about to come until she freaked the hell out.
“Sleeping with me must’ve not been in your plan,” I said aloud, then remembered how she had chased after me. “That didn’t last long, though. Did it?” I muttered with all the disgust I now felt.
She had baited me into fucking her, making sure to anger me enough to give it to her just the way she liked it, too.
Her earlier words of warning returned, and I shook my head. None of this made any sense. Why do everything she had done just to get fucked? Hell, she had spent twenty-five grand just for a date with me.
That was obviously out of the question now. In fact, I would make sure she got her money back. I wouldn’t take it from the charity, but I would compensate her so there would be nothing more owed to her from me.
There was no way her cryptic warning was real. If it was, how would she of all people know when she lived in Oregon. Harper had ulterior motives, even if I didn’t know what they were. I...
“Fuck no,” I cursed aloud as it all hit me.
She must’ve used this warning to get close to me, and was still holding on to that card because she wanted back into my life. I barely survived her the last time, and I would damn sure not fall into her trap again. I didn’t relish a repeat of that phone call or private message from her.
What about the money? If all that was true, why would she have spent that sort of money on me. I know her parents had to have left her an inheritance. She likely pulled from it and would write the whole thing off as charitable donation.
I was such a fool. As my earlier anger returned and intensified, I was more determined than ever to put her out of this penthouse first thing in the morning. I didn’t care if I had to drive her hours south or west. I’d find her a flight out of the Midwest just to be rid of her once and for all.
Deciding that was exactly what I would do, my thoughts of her turned from what she didn’t do to what she did. Harper made me hard as hell, and while it was like heaven being back inside of her, I still didn’t come like I needed to.
Fisting my cock, I closed my eyes and my hand started to move as I relived the last several minutes I had been inside of her. It wasn’t long before I came again, this release nearly as hollow as the last.
Blue balls weren’t something I often dealt with, but there were far worse things. I got out of the shower and turned the water off. After quickly drying off, I wrapped the towel around my waist and padded out into the bedroom, trying to listen for any sound of her.
It was all silence. I even stepped out into the hallway and walked to the guest room. I placed my hand on the handle, but then realized what I was doing and returned to my room.
I finished up by shaving and brushing my teeth before I went back in bed. I turned on the television to see how bad the storm was, and it didn’t take much scrolling through the channels to find the weather one. I turned off the lights, but for some reason, it felt so empty now which was weird because I didn’t bring a woman into this bed to fuck. I chalked it up to Harper being a few doors down, then snarled.
The commercial ended and the meteorologist returned. “Most of Eastern Illinois is still under a blizzard warning until noon Saturday as accumulations of eight to thirteen inches is possible in parts of Cook County, with even higher amounts possible in some places, particularly near the lake.”
I scowled. During the day, the lake could be seen from this very window. Just because there was snow accumulation, it didn’t mean flights couldn’t resume. I grabbed my cellphone from the nightstand and pulled up the website for O’Hare Airport.
“United Airlines has issued an advisory that flights in and out Chicago airports may be delayed, diverted, or canceled between Friday, February 14th, and Sunday, February 16th because of the storm,” the meteorologist said before I could even get the website fully up.
“Just fucking great,” I cursed, then turned the television off.
I connected the phone back to its charger and lay there in bed.
I sat up partway and grabbed the pillow, smacking it roughly before rolling onto my side. Before Harper had showed up at the charity auction, she had called me. That conversation started to come back to me. She did know about my parents. That much was clear. I had cut her off, not wanting to hear her fake condolences.
“You’re in danger,” she’d blurted out.
I clearly remembered chuckling, before hanging up on her. “At least I’m consistent,” I said aloud. She seemed to be carrying this “danger” card with her from the very first conversation to the last one.
