Filthy Rich, Wild with Lust

Chapter 4

Ow... okay, maybe a little.

Then he is riding me hard, the sound of our skin is slapping loudly, echoing through his room.

I try to hold myself up, but it’s hard when you are being f****d by a Mack truck.

I can’t hold it, and I scream into the mattress.

“f**k,” he pants. “Oh yeah, just like that.”

I smile as I listen to him come undone. Is there a hotter sound on earth?

He hisses, holds himself deep, and comes hard inside me. I feel the telling jerk of his c**k as it releases.

I’m wet with perspiration as I hear him gasping for air behind me.

And then he kisses me on my behind. “f*****g hot,” he whispers against my skin.

I smile into the mattress.

Completely and utterly ruined.

He pulls the car over to the side of the road. “I’ll see you.” He leans over and, taking my face in his hand, kisses me softly. “Tonight...”

I smile against his lips. “Tonight.”

Seriously...

The

best

night

of

my life.

We had the best date ever, went home and f****d like animals, then had a shower and made tender sweet love.

I woke up to more of his oral skills this morning, and then he made me breakfast.

Now that’s what I call a date well done.

This is it... he’s the one.

I am walking on f*****g air.

“I have to work today, but I’ll call you later?” he asks.

I want to punch the air, but I won’t because I’m being cool and all that. “Have a good day.”

I open the car door, and he pulls me back for another kiss. I laugh against his lips. “I have to go.”

“Maybe I have to come.”

“You’re a s*x maniac.” I laugh. With another quick kiss I jump out of the car, and he gives me a slow sexy smile. “Bye.” I float inside. I’m on cloud nine.

I change my sheets and bundle up the old ones at double speed.

In among the walking-on-air thing, I’ve been on cleaning crack today.

I’ve tidied. I’ve washed. I’ve bought fresh flowers. I’ve vacuumed and mopped. I cleaned the bathroom. I bought new underwear and even got a few groceries, just in case things go really well tonight and we don’t make it out to dinner.

With my hands on my hips, I look over my apartment to try and see it with new eyes. The living room rug looks a little tired. Hmm. I mean, I have had it for a few years. Maybe I should take it down to the garage?

I really want to put my best foot forward with Henley tonight.

I slide my coffee table over and roll up the huge rug. I try to pick it up and strain. Oh hell, this thing is heavy.

I drag it to the door and struggle out into the hall, dragging it as I go. I turn toward the elevator, then remember that it’s closed for maintenance today.

Fuck.

Six flights of stairs it is.

I drag it along, sweating, huffing, and puffing. It takes me ten minutes to get down only two levels.

Hell, this date will have to be another sleepover, simply because I’m going to be so exhausted that I’ll fall asleep before dinner.

I get halfway down and have to sit for a few minutes and rest. I take out my phone and check it.

No missed calls.

I finally get to the bottom of the stairs and drag my rug into my garage.

Right... now to make myself simply irresistible.

I pick up my phone and check it for the thousandth time today. I’m sitting on my couch, primped, primed, with nowhere to go.

It’s 7:00 p.m., and Henley hasn’t called me yet.

Where the hell is he?

I have this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if something’s wrong?

Stop it.

He’s going to call; I know he is.

So why hasn’t he already? It’s 7:00 p.m. He would have called by now if he was going to.

I flick through Netflix in search of a distraction.

Maybe he’s lost my number?

I sit up, suddenly interested in that theory. Yes, that must be it. If he did lose my number, then he has no way of contacting me.

Maybe I should call him?

My phone rings. “Hello,” I answer.

“Did he call yet?” Chloe asks.

“No.” I sigh.

“Fuck.”

“Do you think I should call him?”

“No.”

“What if he lost my number?”

“Then he’s a dickhead. Anyway, your number will be in his call history. He hasn’t lost your number, Jules.”

My heart sinks. “Something is wrong. I know he’s going to call me.”

“Why, because he said he would? Wouldn’t be the first man to ever lie on a date.”

“Chloe, I’m telling you. We had something; I know he’s going to call me.”

“Okay,” she replies in an unconvinced voice. “The girls and I are going to Club 70, if you want to come.”

“No.” I exhale as I lie down on my back. “I’m going to wait for him.”

“He’s not calling.”

“He is.” I roll my eyes. “He had to work today. Maybe he’s going to just show up here any minute. Goodbye.”

I exhale heavily and look around my spotless apartment. He better f*****g call.

8:00 p.m.

Ring, ring... ring, ring... I screw up my face as I wait for him to pick up.

“You’ve reached Henley James. I can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message.”

Shit.

“Hi, Henley, it’s Juliet.” I pause as I try to think of the right thing to say. “I was just...” f**k. “I thought we were catching up tonight?”

Damn it. I sound desperate.

“Just called to see what’s happening. Anyway, bye.”

I put my hands over my eye sockets in disgust. Oh god... that sounded so pathetically needy. Why didn’t I just wait for him to call? Now I’ve ruined it.

Ugh...

My phone vibrating on the side table wakes me. “It’s too late for your drunken phone calls, Chloe,” I grumble as I answer.

“Guess who just turned up at the club?” she yells through the loud nightclub music.

I rub my eyes to try and focus on her voice. “Who?”

“Henley James.”

“What?” I sit up, suddenly wide awake. “What time is it?” I glance at the clock on my phone: 2:00 a.m. “Who’s he there with?”

“Two guys.”

“Are you serious?” I get out of bed.

“You get down here and tip a f*****g drink on his head for standing you up.”

I drag my hand down my face. “What’s he wearing?”

“Who cares. He looks like a walking vibrator in whatever he’s wearing.”

“Are you sure it’s him?”

“I’m sending you a video.” She fumbles with the phone for a few seconds. “I’ll call you back.” She hangs up, and I go to the bathroom and walk out into my living area. My phone beeps a text, and I hit play.

Henley is talking to two men. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt and talking and laughing. He’s looking all relaxed while drinking a Corona beer. A hot girl walks past, and his eyes drop to her behind. And then he says something to his friends before turning his attention back to her behind.

My heart sinks.

Wow...

My phone rings again. “Hi,” I answer.

“See it?”

“Yep.” I sigh.

“He’s a f*****g asshole,” Chloe spits.

“Whatever, I don’t care what he does.” I act unruffled.

“Can I tell him what I think of him?”

“No,” I snap. “Forget him like I have. I’m going back to bed.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

“Don’t be. I’m not,” I lie.

“Breakfast in the morning?” she asks.

I can’t believe this.

I really don’t want to spend all day tomorrow listening to disco tales of Henley James, and seeing Chloe tomorrow will open the gates for that. “I can’t. I’m seeing my parents,” I tell her. “Catch up next week?”

“Sure, babe.” She hesitates. “You okay?”

No.

“Of course I am.” I smile sadly. “Bye.”

I hang up, and with my heart in my throat, I torture myself and watch the video of Henley again.

The way he’s all relaxed and happy. The way he looks at that girl’s behind.

The way it makes me feel.

As reality sets in, an old proverb runs through my mind: If something seems too good to be true, it usually is.

Asshole.

We walk down the crowded footpath. “So then, I wait at home all night, and Chloe calls to tell me he’s in a club at two a.m.,” I continue on my rant to Liam.

“Why did you sleep with him? That’s not like you to give it up on a first date,” he replies, uninterested.

“Because he was the best date of my f*****g life, that’s why. And maybe I just wanted to be a bad girl for one night, you know?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“Because you’re my brother, that’s why. If you had the best date of your life, would you play Mr. Innocent to prove a point?”

He rolls his eyes. “Are we going in here?” He gestures to a restaurant.

Poor Liam. I made him come to lunch with me so I can vent all about my weekend from hell.

“Yeah.” I sigh. “This will do.” I push the heavy door open, and we wait in line to be served.

“How do you know it was even him in the club? Chloe was probably wearing beer goggles.”