Page 29 of Ms. Fortune

She groans into my mouth as I touch her, tease her, and explore every inch of her. A gasp escapes her lips when my fingers slide into her sex, and she shudders against me as she shatters. Her hands wrap around my length firmly, and I'm not going to last much longer. I have imagined this scene in my head for nearly two weeks straight, and the mere thought that it's actually happening is pushing me over the edge.

I fumble for my wallet and pull out a condom, quickly sheathing myself, and still, our mouths don't falter. I reach around, grab her ass, and grind her against me. The exquisite pain that flies through me as I strain against her is almost too much. The anticipation of burying myself inside her is overpowering.

I pull away from her briefly, searching her eyes to ensure we both want this, and it's clear we do. So, I lift her up and guide her onto me, her back against the door. As I thrust into her slowly and deeply, our eyes are still trained on each other. Watching the pleasure roll through her increases the intensity of my own as our touches become more desperate and greedier. An energy is passing between us that is beyond carnal and way beyond physical. This feeling transcends all of that, taking this to another level I’ve never seen or felt before. And I can see in her eyes that she’s feeling the exact same way.

Our breathing is ragged as our pace increases, and just as I'm sure she's about to climax, the knob to the door we're fucking against starts to turn. We both hear it and stop moving. Even though we've stopped, the thought of being caught must be enough for Normandy because I suddenly feel her pulsating around me, and her eyes shut as she arches her back and bites her lip hard to keep from crying out. It has to be the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen, and the sight of it does me in. I have to swallow my own groan as I come, throbbing silently, my body stiffening as the sexual tension finally releases.

Whoever was attempting to open the door knocks, but Normandy and I ignore it, still trying to catch our breath. I lean my forehead against hers, and her eyes meet mine with a mix of satisfaction and amusement. It's hard to know what she's thinking since she can sometimes be so hard to read. I just wish one of those times was not now.

“Mr. Carmichael, are you in there?” Shit, it's Taylor. He probably thinks we've been kidnapped or something and has called out the cavalry to find us. I should have known better than to think we could have a private moment.

“It's fine, Taylor. We're both fine,” I call through the door. Normandy giggles at this a little as she runs her fingers hesitantly through my hair. “We're both more than fine if you get my drift?”

He doesn't respond right away. And when he does, his voice has a bit of a laugh in it. “Excellent, Sir.”

I reluctantly slide out of her and find a box of tissues for us to clean up with. As I glance around, I notice this must be a small lounge next to the ballroom. There are couches, some comfortable chairs, and a drink station. I find a bottle of water and, after opening it, hand it to Normandy, who still leans against the door, trying to gather herself. As she takes a drink, I place my hands on the door on each side of her and blaze a trail of kisses down the tender length of her neck, brushing my lips against her skin until goosebumps appear.

She shivers and squirms her way out from under my arm, moving away from me, and I get the sense whatever spell we were just under has been broken. I don't know what I did to break it, if I did anything, but the air in the room seems to have definitely chilled.

“Normandy? Is there something wrong?” When I turn to her, she avoids my gaze, seemingly interested in the label on the bottle of water.

“No, nothing's wrong. That was perfectly fine.”

“Perfectly fine? I think that was a little bit more than just perfectly fine.” I don't understand why she's acting like this. Why she's making this out to be nothing when it was definitely more. I take a step toward her, but she takes a step back. “You can't tell me you didn't feel something there besides a fantastic orgasm. You can't honestly believe that was just a fuck. I felt it, and I know you felt it too.”

She still hasn't lifted her eyes from the water bottle, and I can feel her shutting down. Shutting the doors and windows to her emotions completely. Shutting me out. Something inside me splinters, and the sharp edges are scratching at my soul as I watch her turn what happened between us into something inconsequential.

I need to know what the fuck is going on here. Because I did not just imagine it.

Chapter 20

IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT

NORMANDY

I can't believe that just happened. That was freaking amazing. I can't believe I let myself do that. I can't. I don't know what to do. That was incredible, but…I don't know how to react. My emotions are so muddled right now and so scattered. And the way Brandon talks, you would think he was in love with me or something, which can't be the case.

The look he just had in his eyes fills me with so much guilt, and I don't know why. It's not like this relationship was ever going to go anywhere. This is the end of the road today. It was always supposed to be the final stop for this crazy train. But he's acting like I'm breaking his heart, which makes no sense. Yes, the sex was incredible. It was beyond incredible. And what he's saying is true, I did feel something more. But I can't believe he did too. That's not how this works. How this works, is I show an inkling of my soul to someone, and they use it against me. Or they crush my spirit for the fun of it. That's how this goes. Or, used to go. I know better than to get attached anymore.

I can't believe for a minute, not a single second, that Brandon Carmichael could ever feel more for me than lust. Someone like him doesn't do that with someone like me. I know this from experience. If I allow myself to think his words are true in any way, it will be the beginning of the end for me. Because that’s all they ever are. Words.

So, why did I let myself get put into this position if I knew that? Why did I allow him to break down my barriers? Why did I allow myself to start to feel things for him? And why did I just let that happen?

Because the heart wants what the heart wants. A heart doesn't have the sense to know what's best for you. And the heart doesn't have a mind to change. A heart can't see the cliff you're about to fall over.

I finally glance up from the water bottle to meet Brandon's eyes, and it takes everything in my being to not crumble in front of him like I want to. I know I'm being cold. I know I'm being a bitch. I know there is the slightest of possibilities I might be hurting him. But I can't stop myself. This is how I protect my stupid heart from getting crushed by him.

“Brandon let's not make a big deal out of this. You and I knew this was the final date, and I think this was a great way to end it.” He raises an eyebrow at me, scoffing at my words, but I go on. “We've fulfilled our agreement, and you are no longer obligated to me for anything. You're free to go.”

His mouth drops open, and his eyes widen in surprise. “I'm free to go? Did you really just say I'm free to go? How can you be so callous right now?” He rushes over to me and puts his hands on my shoulders, and I swear I'm going to buckle. I'm going to cave. I'm going to give in. I compose myself and harden my features, steeling my eyes against the pleading he's showing in his.

“Brandon, it would never work between us. Our lives are so different. I could never function in your world, and you could never survive in mine, and that's just how it is. This was nice. I had fun against my better judgment, but this is where it has to end.”

Each word coming out of my mouth stabs at me with 1,000 little needles. Every syllable pounds into my chest, trying to get to my heart, but I don't let them. I have to make him understand this situation is untenable. He’s basically a genius; he should have figured this out already. Any relationship between us couldn't work.

The weight of his hands on my shoulders is almost too much for me to take. I can feel the warmth in his palms, and that only makes me remember his fingers moments ago gliding over my skin, running down my spine, raking through my hair, and I have to step away from him again before I give in and do something I'll regret later.

“We barely started this relationship, there's no way we can know one way or the other if this will work. We can't know if we don't try. Believe it or not, I have resources available to me. I can be in your life if you'll let me. But you need to let me.”

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