Page 5 of Made For You
With a quick glance down the path from my bed to the bathroom, I noticed there weren’t any discarded condoms, and I wasneverout of it enough to go bareback.
An exhale of relief left my lungs as I gathered her clothes strewn across my bedroom floor.
“Out,” I said brusquely as I dropped the pile of material on top of her.
“What?” she shrieked as she bolted upright in the bed, as if she’d been faking sleep all along.
“You heard me. Or do I need to call security and have you escorted out?”
She mumbled under her breath as she jumped down from my bed and began tugging on her discarded clothes. While I’d always appreciated her body, seeing her clad in her lacy undergarments was doing nothing for me.
Stomps followed me as I made my way toward the foyer area of my penthouse. I could feel her eyes on my boxer-brief-covered ass as I walked. The motion-sensor lights in the penthouse flicked on with every few steps I traveled. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the lights of Miami shown below.
Just as I approached the circular table of dark walnut that served as a catchall for most of my things, despite my maid’s disdain, I turned to face Allison.
Her long, red nails scratched down my bare chest. I immediately thought of her drawing blood with each inch she descended.
“Allison,” I began as I gripped her wrist. Her eyes dilated as I touched her skin. She stumbled as I dragged her behind me toward the door a few steps away. “Out,” I commanded as I yanked her outside.
“But,” she began, and I immediately cut her off with a seething glare. The same kind that evoked fear in my employees.
“I suggest you start looking for a new place to live.”
“What?” she shrieked.
“Once I tell security what you’ve done, they will evict you immediately.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“You broke in without my knowledge, and I was so out of it I didn’t even know you were hiding in here.”
“Well, I thought I would surprise you.” She pouted, pursing those overly injected lips of hers. It left me wondering why I let our arrangement go on as long as it did.
As I started to shut the door behind her, Allison wailed at the top of her lungs. I was thankful this was the only residence on this floor.
The deadbolt clicked as I locked it behind me. I made my way to the expansive kitchen and used the complex-issued phone to dial the security team on duty. As an heir to the Wilder Hotel chain, my safety was paramount.
“Mr. Beckett, what can I do for you? Do you need a car called?”
“Leon, Allison St. Clair broke into my apartment, and my guess is she manufactured a copy of the key card for my door.”
“Mr. Beckett, I sincerely apologize. We’ll have this addressed right away, and I will personally install a new kind of lock for you today.”
“Biometric. I’ll have the company bring you the prototype.”
Biometric security was something my best friend, Dean, invested and dabbled in. Another kid from old-school wealth who had the money to burn. He worked with a company to create a biometric scanner that utilized thermography.
“Yes. Apologies again, Mr. Beckett.”
“And I’ll need a car in an hour.”
“Yes, sir.”
Without another word, I ended the call and moved toward my walk-in pantry. Grabbing a yellow-and-black container, I twisted the top and measured out some pre-workout powder. My maid stacked my shaker cups on the small counter, and I poured the powder into the top one, then gently tugged it free from the cups below it. At the fridge back in the main kitchen, I filled the cup with water, twisted on the top, shook the contents, then chugged it all in one go. It wasn’t my favorite flavor, and the powder had an odd texture despite how many times I shook the cup with its stainless wire ball inside. It always made me feel like I was swallowing chalk. But I had a routine and was already behind, due to the Allison debacle, so I choked it down and tossed the empty cup into the sink.
Back in my bedroom, I tugged on a pair of sweatpants and bypassed my running shoes for a pair of old Chuck Taylors. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I worked out in my home gym, while for the rest of the week I ran for an hour outdoors. As much as I’d appreciate hitting the pavement, I was a creature of habit, and rarely did I deviate from my routine.
I started with the dumbbells, following the sequence that my personal trainer created for me. After sixty minutes, my arms and thighs burned, and my heart raced, but I never felt better. Iloved the rush after a good workout. Not only did I feel refreshed all over, but it was one of the few times during the day where my mind was at ease.
