I’d sprinted the whole way to Flight of Fancy, not giving a shit about how it’d looked. I’d just needed to know she was okay, she was safe, and maybe…I’d just needed to see her once more.
Xanthe wasn’t going to make it easy, but I didn’t want easy. I wanted her.
When she’d asked me why I was bothering with her, I’d known she really didn’t know what she did to me, how she had changed me. Her very existence was a balm to a heart I hadn’t even known had been aching for her my whole life.
Back at the studio, Trey took one look at me and cursed up a storm.
“That’s fucking it!” he raged. “You look like utter shit, Oliver! This woman isn’t fucking worth your health!”
“The fuck she isn’t!” I shouted in return, storming into my office.
Trey hounded my steps. “You can’t keep doing this! You look like you’re on the verge of being seriously ill! Whatever you did to her, I’m sure she wouldn’t want you like this!”
“Of course she doesn’t,” I huffed, going behind my desk and powering up my computer. “I just saw her, all right? Things are working themselves out.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, I need to earn her trust back, and we’ll take it from there.”
“What about your trust in her?”
“I trust her. She might not have said, I’m Elaine H. Ford, but she told me she wrote those stories, that it was her mind that came up with them, and when she did, I wasn’t listening, as I should have been.”
“Seriously? Why didn’t she just tell you from the beginning?”
My eyeballs were burning with lack of sleep as I stared at him. “She doesn’t trust easily in the first place, Trey. Why she doesn’t isn’t my business to tell you. But she’s been through some shit, and…there were a few reasons she didn’t just come out and tell me. Mostly, it was because I was a prick.”
Trey calmed down and dropped into the armchair in front of my desk. “Tell me why anyway.”
“Trey…”
“I’m your best friend, your fucking brother. That gives me the right to know why she doesn’t think you’re good enough.”
“Honestly, I believe it’s the exact opposite in her mind. She asked me why I was bothering with her at all.”
“Just tell me.”
I gave him a hard glare. “A lunatic stalker stole some of her manuscripts and published them under his name. He broke into her home, tried to rape her, beat her senseless, and left her for dead on her living room floor. Happy?”
Trey blanched. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah. Now, if you could not say anything—”
“Of course. Wow,” he said softly. Then, he got a little riled. “But it’s not like you’d do something like that!”
“I fucking abandoned her at the first fucking sign of trouble, Trey! I betrayed her trust when I broke my word, leaving her to fend for herself in Boston. I have to prove to her that I’m not like that.”
“Then, why do you look like death warmed over?”
“Because…” I told him of the night before. “I was just worried.”
“Damn, Oliver…”
“Rex will be here soon. I just want to get on with the day and go home.”
“Are you seeing her later?”
Shaking my head, I replied, “No.” And that completely sucked. Just remembering the feel of her in my arms as she’d cuddled close and sniffed my beard had me feeling warm and fuzzy inside. “But you can tell The Sophisticated Caveman that I’ll be a spokesperson for them.”
“Oh, yeah? You’re that happy with their stuff?”
I grinned. “You could say that.”
The rest of the day dragged by so slowly. Besides having to take portfolio shots of Rex to send to Timeless—he was not happy with me, to say the least—I had to meet with a couple to take engagement photos out in the city. Just seeing a pair so blissfully in love had me longing to hurry this shit up with Xanthe.
Back in the office, Trey had the contract with The Sophisticated Caveman ready for me to sign.
“You have that shoot tomorrow for the new perfume ad,” he told me. “It’d be great if you didn’t look like you went on a four-day binge, yeah? Bianca is flying in tomorrow morning. I’ll pick her up, so you have time to get as much rest as possible.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
“And that package from Mandy came in today. I guess you can start on it this week, and we can send everything out on Monday.”
“Sure thing.”
It was midafternoon.
Trey took pity on me. “Just go home. And fucking eat something, would you?”
Ollie
Bianca was a favorite of mine. Sweet, pliable, and soft-spoken, she always did exactly what I asked of her—whether it was at work or in bed. She was devastatingly beautiful, too, with thick dark brown hair and big doe eyes the color of dark chocolate, fringed with heavy black lashes. Her skin was flawless, the color of fresh cream. I always found Bianca a joy to be around, ready with a disarming smile and rich, warm laughter.
Wearing only white lace panties and ropes of pearls around her neck, she was spread out before me. Bianca’s nipples would be broadcast in magazines that didn’t shy away from female nudity.
Nipples sold perfume.
“You seem different, Ollie,” she told me as I came in for some close-ups.
Reaching down while looking through my lens, I adjusted the ropes of pearls to conceal a little more flesh, making sure my touch was not inappropriate.
“Mmm,” I replied.
Looking into my eyes through the camera, she said, “I’m staying with Gabriella for the rest of the week.”
Bianca and Gabriella in one place would usually mean I would be there, too. Many times, we had engaged in threesomes. Bianca was adventurous when it came to sex. I used to love watching the things she’d do to Gabriella, making the woman scream her head off.
Bianca was a moaner. There was nothing sexier than sinking into a woman and having her moan deeply with satisfaction.
Gabriella was a screamer. Screamers didn’t really do it for me, but Gabriella was a feisty fuck. She was taller and stronger than Bianca, so I could smack her arse and pull her hair. Bianca wasn’t into that, but if I’d really wanted to, she’d let me.
“I had hoped I could stay with you…” she said, sighing. “Trey told me I would not be welcome.”
“Not that you aren’t welcome, Bibi. You’re just not welcome in the way you used to be.”
“Gabby told me as much. Why is that?”
Not ready to share Xanthe with anyone, I said nothing. As it was, she could hardly share herself with me.
Xanthe was a moaner. She loved having her pretty arse smacked and her hair pulled. She’d gotten off when it had gotten rough. Just the thought of being deep inside her had blood rushing to southern parts of my body.
After the first time was out of the way, I’d made love to Xanthe, as I should have been able to from the start. I hadn’t tasted her, which was a shame, but I didn’t particularly enjoy the flavor of condoms, spermicide, and cunt all wrapped up in one. Now, I wished I’d had the foresight not to care about that.