Page 103 of Naughty Nelle

CHAPTER 9

Ari

Iflew out of the restaurant. What the hell had gotten into her? The evening had gone so well. We seemed to have a lot in common, and I enjoyed opening up to her as she did to me. And my little sexcapade under the table seemed mutually enjoyable—well, that might be a little bit of an understatement. She had totally aroused me. Seriously, I didn’t intend to devour her pussy when my spoon fell under the table, but I simply couldn’t resist. Something about her drove my androgens insane, driving up my testosterone and making me horny as sin. The scent of her was delectable and she was so fucking edible. I fucking loved it when she came all over my face. And there was no doubt in my mind that she loved it as much as I did. But maybe she’d started to have second thoughts about me. Think I was some kind of perv. I couldn’t blame her. My actions today were not for the faint-hearted. Maybe I needed to apologize and start over. Whatever it took, I wanted to have her.

Clutching her shoes in one hand, I ran through the crowded streets of Manhattan. With the insane Friday night traffic, it made no sense to call for my driver, Andre. Madly, I wove in and out of the throngs of people enjoying the night out, almost knocking over a few. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and my heart was racing a hundred miles a minute. Where the fuck could she have gone? She couldn’t have gotten far.

My mind raced along with my pulse. Home. She must be heading home. Where else would she go? She certainly didn’t seem like the clubbing type or someone who would drop in alone at a bar. I knew her address by heart—and stayed on course heading west. I’m sure I was a faster runner than she was, and having lived in Manhattan since my undergraduate days at Columbia, I knew the streets like the back of my hand. If my calculations were right, I might make it to her place before she did.

Halfway there, my cell phone went off. It couldn’t be her since she didn’t have my number. Without slowing down, I slipped it out of my jeans pocket and then glanced at the caller ID. The name and number were way too familiar. I quickly hit answer and put the device to my ear.

“Qué paso?” I breathed into the phone, my words rushed.

“Eet eez another bad dream, Señor Golden.”

Shit. My breath caught in my throat and I stopped dead in my tracks. I needed to get home as fast as possible.

Fifteen gut-wrenching minutes later, I was back at my apartment, totally out of breath after running forty city blocks uptown at lightning speed. I felt like I’d just competed in a 6K race and crossed the finish line.

“How is he?” I asked Luisa, my treasured nanny and housekeeper who’d been with me since Ben was born.

Wearing a navy velour robe and slippers, the big-hearted buxom woman, who was cleaning up the kitchen island counter, stopped what she was doing and looked up at me. A warm smile lit up her coffee-skinned face.

“He eez much better, Señor. I calmed him down with some warm milk and cookies and just put him back to bed. He eez probably still up.”

I let out a loud sigh of relief. “Gracias, Luisa,” I muttered, already on the way to his room.

“De nada. El pobrecito!”

Yes, my poor little boy. Still suffering from nightmares from the fucking bitch.

A few moments later, I was outside Ben’s room. His door slightly ajar, I pushed it open and lightly stepped inside, afraid to wake him in case he’d fallen asleep. A nightlight lit up the room, something that helped keep the bad dreams at bay and helped him with his fear of the dark.

“Hi, Daddy!” a little voice shouted out in the semi-dark. He was up.

“Hi, buddy,” I replied, ambling over to his bed. He was tucked inside it beneath a fluffy comforter, his treasured Green Ranger action figure by his side. I sat down on the edge beside him and ruffled my fingers through his silky hair. “How are you doing?”

“Better now, Daddy. I had another one of the bad dreams.”

“The same one?” I asked, still threading his hair.

He nodded. “Yes. The one with the big ugly green monster that has the big scary teeth. It was coming after me!”

His recurring dream. His psychologist, Dr. Brenner, had told me the monster symbolized my ex. Green was the color of her eyes and the sharp teeth symbolized the knife she tried to use on him that horrific, unforgettable night. Though Ben had no recollection of the actual events (he’d blocked them out), I relived them every time he told me about the nightmare. The rage. The shrieks. The sobs. The blood. The pain. The sirens. The vivid, traumatic memory played in my head like a scene straight out of a horror movie. How close we had come to the end! Hatred for my ex filled every cell of my being.

“What’s that in your hand, Daddy?” asked Ben, bringing me back to the moment. I cast my eyes down. I was still clutching Sarah’s heels.

“A girl’s shoes,” I replied with hesitation.

He giggled. “What are you doing with a girl’s shoes?”

“Um, uh, she lost them.”

“Kind of like Cinderella?”

“Yeah, kind of like Cinderella.”

The image of my beautiful princess flashed into my head. The delicious memory of eating her under the table made my cock stir and I could still taste her sweetness on my tongue. Maybe I should call her. Find out what had gotten into her and see if she was okay. This wasn’t the way I thought this night would end. Ben broke again into my thoughts.

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