1
Blake
One month and two weeks later…...
“Do you want any more cognac?” the dark-eyed Spanish beauty asked. Do I want any more cognac? No. I’m already trashed as it is, but my mind keeps running away with thoughts of the woman who stole my heart, my soul.
“Sure,” I murmured.
Her cat-like smile was plastered on her sensual face while she poured. I took a mouthful and loved the smooth burn of the expensive liquor. Her hand caressed the exposed spot on my chest where my shirt was unbuttoned. She’s obviously trying to get my attention, but I chose to ignore her. She took my indifference as a green light and started to hastily undo my shirt.
Hell, this woman was adamant.
She started to kiss my neck, chest and stomach. Her tongue lingered around the edge of my trousers. I just stared at her. Waiting to see how far she’d go to please me. Women were always this easy—they never say no—always willing to spread their legs wide open anytime, anyplace.
Well, with the exception of one.
The one I wanted more than anything.
The one I fell in love with but who walked away from me.
Fuck the blasted karma. My head’s been bombarded with thoughts of her—thoughts of her with that insipid man that she’s with. My heart squeezed as I tasted acid in my mouth. The hell with it!—if she doesn’t want me then there are tons of women who are more than willing to accommodate me….like this harlot trying to appease me and my moodiness, my thoughts queried sourly.
I groaned as she undid my pants, slightly lifted my hips so she could easily pull them down. She stroked my semi-hard c**k as she sought my lips.
“No. There will be no kissing. I’ve emphasized that fact enough. If you’re not happy with it—you know where the door is.” I hissed at her. Her dark eyes widened from shock but fully recovered from it after a few seconds.
I don’t give a f**k if she stays or not.
“Whatever you want mi amor,” purring as she lowered her head to capture the head of my shaft. I released a sigh and leaned back on the couch as she started to stroke it with her tongue.
Damn, why did I expect it to be like hers? Not only did she steal my heart, but she stole a bloody part of my sex life.
FUCK! Bloody Fuck!
How will I ever be satisfied with any other woman if she was the best I’ve ever had? She gave a mean head…and when she takes you—she gave it her all—and there was nowhere to go but to get sucked into that soul-gripping abyss.
This woman before me—fucking mediocre—most of them are when it gets down to dirty business.
Most women aren’t gifted, only some are. And let me tell you—there aren’t many of them out there. Some can be okay, some good, some great, but only a few will seriously blow your bloody f**king mind. Sienna was the bloody f**king package. And I loathed her even more as the day goes by.
Finally, the woman managed to get my dick up.
I pulled out my wallet and handed Maria Reyes a foil condom packet.
Leaning back again on the couch, I closed my eyes and thought of Sienna. I heard her tear the foil packet; she gently rolled it on my cock. I met her two days ago at a friend’s party and she latched on like the leech that she is—but I don’t mind that, not at all—at least she was honest with what she’s after.
She positioned herself and straddled me and gently pressed her wet, greedy pu**y on my cock.
A soft moan escaped my lips.
I imagined it’s Sienna on me. I imagined the night I woke up from her f**king me or that night during Chad’s show in the office. Hell, f**king her in the office was blatantly hot. She became even more frenzied when I held her neck while I f**ked her some more. She didn’t mind the choking—she just took it all. We wanted each other—in any imaginable way we could get it.
I gripped Maria’s hips harder—feeling the intensity of my climax building and brewing inside. I pictured making love to her—her gasping face as I fill her—her screaming my name—her face as she orgasms. “Fuck Sienna!” screaming her name as I came.
“Bastardo!” Maria screeched as she climbed off me. Not the first time this happened. It happened the night I met her and every single time we f**ked—which was a lot in the last two days.
I shrugged when I heard the front door slam with a little quake.
Not my bloody fault if she kept coming back. I didn’t mean it, not really. It just happens. My mind constantly revolves around Sienna. The only time I get a hiatus is at work, but somehow she even manages to penetrate my workaholic mentality at the oddest times. Like I would be spacing out during a meeting because I’ve been thinking about her smile or how she teases me. Anything and everything—always about her—and I’m bloody going mindlessly crazy with this.
When will the miserable longing stop? I hate feeling this way. I got up and took care of cleaning myself. I’m sure Maria left already—but not for long.
Strolling to the kitchen, I found Toby sitting with his laptop on the black granite breakfast countertop. “Maria?” he inquired without looking up.
“Yup,” I said shrugging. “I know I’m paying you tons to do an excellent job—but it’s almost midnight—you need to stop and do that in the office.”
“Yeah, well I needed to straighten out a lot of the budget. This is such a bloody mess,” Toby mumbled and took a long sip of his beer.
“Well who would’ve thought the old arse was embezzling money. If he wasn’t grandfather’s good friend, I would’ve gladly punished him—but hey granddad pretty much said to let it go.”
He smirked. “Sure…five million pounds is easy to let go for you folks.”
I opened the fridge to get bottled water—drank some and turned around to face him. I grew up with Toby. We went to the same boarding school and university. We grew up privileged, but his father’s gambling took a toll on the Watson’s bank balance and it’s been dwindling ever since. His parents have been pressuring him to help out his younger brother, Liam, through high school and he’s been lending them a hand. He was making a decent amount in his other job in the finance department at one of the leading hedge fund companies in Europe. But when I found out what old McKenzie was doing—I threw him out and hired Toby. I’m paying him double to ease some of the pressure. He’s worth it, not only am I lending him a hand—he also happens to be a genius when it comes to money. Toby’s the closest thing I have for a brother and it pains me to see him stressed out about his father’s failings.