1
Natasha
His breathing is labored, like he’s gasping for air. My heart races out of control as anticipation of his next move thrills, excites and petrifies me all at the same time. I sigh gently, and my eyes close as I roll my head to the side to allow him greater access to my neck.
“So beautiful,” he whispers. My god, if someone had told me two weeks ago that I would be here, doing this with him in the middle of the night, in a tent with both sets of our parents only thirty meters away, I would have thought they needed their head examined. I can’t believe it myself. What the hell am I doing? I am way out of my depth.
He smiles into my neck. “Precious girl, can you feel me? Feel how ready you are for me?” He gently and slowly adds another finger into my sex and tenderly takes my erect nipple into his mouth between his teeth and draws his head back. The wet sound of my arousal hangs thick in the air. I take a deep breath as my legs instinctively open wider. My knees bent high, my back arches and my hips gently rotate. My body takes over as I start to ride his strong thick fingers. I bear down, needing more. My wet center is blessed with yet another burst of creamy arousal. His fingers ease in and out, stretching me open, preparing me as he gently runs his open lips back down my neck. His breath is shaking as he tries to control the raging hormones that threaten his undoing. He leans up onto his elbow and looks down at me. “I need this…please…let me make love to you.” He runs the tips of his four fingers over my swollen flesh in a circular motion, grazing my clitoris. My body jerks in response. His forehead rests against mine and his eyes bore into me, then my breath catches as my eyes close. “God, I want you, Tash… please… I’ve never wanted anything so much.” He grazes my neck again with his teeth. My senses are under assault, my brain ceasing to operate.
Mechanical meltdown. “Josh, you feel so good,” I whisper. I grab his face with both hands and slide my tongue into his mouth. He flicks his fingers against my wet clitoris and my breath catches. My body convulses and I moan in a husky voice that is unrecognizable to my ears.
“I can make it feel better, precious…let me.” I place my hand on his forearm to feel the muscles flex as he rides me with his hands, strong, able, pleasure-giving hands. His palm circles on my outer lips as his fingers delve deep to massage the front wall of my vagina, a place only he knows where to find. My eyes roll back in my head and I bring my feet up and place them flat on the ground to bring his fingers deeper. I’m panting, the orgasm so close I can taste it.
“No,” he whispers and removes his fingers.
“Josh, no,” I whisper. “Don’t stop, baby, please I need this.”
“No, Natasha,” he whispers. He only uses my full name when he’s accentuating his point, forcing his will on me. He tenderly kisses me again, his tongue melting my resistance. “We’ve been doing this every night for a week. I’m giving you multiple orgasms.” He gently bites my neck as I smile.
“Hmmm,” I whisper. “Is there a problem with that?”
“No problem, it’s just…tonight…I need, I need…” his breath catches, “…something…something more.” His breath quivers as his fingertips find that spot on my clitoris again, circling with precision. I moan involuntarily and my neck arches, throwing my head back into the pillow. “How does the word penetration sound?”
I giggle into his neck. “Did you really just say that?” He smiles. I know he’s teasing me. “Penetration, really.”
“OK, would you rather I say I’m going to fuck you into next week? Fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week? Push into that beautiful tight little pussy of yours with my hard cock?” He growls into my neck as he hears the crude words he’s just spoken. They turn me on beyond words and ignite my already boiling blood. That’s it, the last of my control dissipates. I know I will do anything he wants.
He removes his hand again and dips his tongue into my mouth, kissing me tenderly, loving me. “Presh,” he pleads. Both of our breathing is labored. I close my eyes and make the decision I know is wrong. It’s one that my physical being won’t let me refuse, one that is out of my hands. I crossed that line in the sand over a week ago. Moments pass…more passionate kissing. Every fiber of my body is screaming at me, demanding. I desperately want this beautiful man, needing this connection as much as he does. I mentally kick myself as I hear the words slip from my lips.
“Make love to me, Josh…I need you too.”
He kisses me possessively as he growls acceptance. “Are you sure?” he asks.
I smile into his kiss. “I’m yours, Josh, take me.”
He bites my neck and digs his hands into my behind. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he whispers. Goose bumps scatter over my body. “I will make it good for you, baby, you know that don’t you?” I nod nervously. His hand slides down my body. Back between my legs, he skims my pubic hair with the backs of his fingers. Gently he bites my shoulder as he eases a finger inside me. I groan with overwhelming need and hunger. His other hand rises to my breast as he gently squeezes my nipple. I’m under assault. Losing my mind. My breathing is now in pants as he adds another finger in and out in a circular movement, stretching me, teasing me. My body oozes another rush of cream. “That’s it, precious girl, can you feel how wet you are for me?” He gently adds another finger.
“Oww, Josh.” I tense.
“Sh, sh, baby. Relax.” He kisses me deeply as he uses three fingers to gently probe and stretch my tight opening. It gives me a pleasurable burn. “Oh god, you’re so ready for my cock.” His crude words push me over the edge. “Do you have any idea how much I fucking adore you?” he whispers into my ear, and I bring my hand down to feel him. His hard shaft is oozing pre-ejaculate. I give him a long stroke and then swipe my thumb over the slippery, engorged head. Feeling every vein on his thick length that I now know from memory.
“Don’t, baby.” He pulls away. “I don’t want to come,” he whispers. I move up onto my knees to take him in my mouth. The temptation too great, I need to taste him. “Stop…now.” He pulls me off him and pushes me down. He moves his weight onto his elbows as he positions himself over me. Slowly sliding the side of his shaft backward and forward through my swollen wet lips.
The intimate kissing continues. “We were meant for each other; you know that don’t you?” I nod and smile. I do know this, without a doubt in my mind. He nudges the opening of my sex with his large length. His breath quivers and I know he’s trying to hold himself back, so he doesn’t hurt me. He goes in a little way. Ahh. I tense.
“It’s OK…it’s OK,” he whispers. He kisses me again and I relax. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing great.” His voice is strained but just the sound of it calms me. Shit, this hurts! He pushes again and I tense, oh fuck, this really hurts.
“Take me,” he whispers. “Relax, baby, and take my body, it’s here for you, I’m here for you.”
I slowly start to relax as he pauses to allow my body to adjust to the hard intrusion while running his open mouth up and down my neck. Our mingled breathing sounds like we are running a marathon. I can hear the quiver in his breath as he inhales. God, this is just so unexpectedly intimate. I can’t control my feelings any longer. I blink quickly to try and stop it. But it’s too late, a tear escapes onto my cheek.
“Baby, no,” he whispers, mortified that he’s hurting me. It’s not the physical pain that I’m unable to cope with, but the emotion I feel for this man. The love I have for him. It’s overwhelming, it’s too much. He whispers again, “Take me, beautiful girl,” and kisses my ear. Wanting desperately to please him, I force my legs to open farther and he thrusts deep with one lunge. He’s entirely in. Oh shit, he’s big.
“I’m sorry, precious,” he whispers. “Sshh, sshh, it’s OK, it’s OK, I’m in.” I hold my breath, unable to speak, shocked to my core. This really fucking hurts—what the hell!
“You feel amazing,” he whispers as he stares into my glassy eyes. He stays still, deep inside me, allowing my body to adjust to his brutal length. Kissing me gently, he swipes his tongue through my lips, and I feel my arousal slowly rise back up.
He leans up onto his elbow to look at me and gently wipes my hair off my face. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?” he whispers into my ear. I gradually relax. Slowly he withdraws and gently slides into me again. I breathe out, overcome with emotion and unable to hide it any longer.
“Josh,” I whisper. His eyes are closed, he’s breathing heavily. “Yes, baby,” he answers, his lips against my cheek.
“I love you,” I whisper. His eyes fly wide open.
“Been a big week, hey?”
My eyes fly up nervously to Simon in my office doorway. I nod and quickly rearrange the papers on my desk. I try to rein in my now-pounding heart, guilt written all over my face. Bloody hell. I need to stop thinking about this shit when I’m at work.
“It has been a big week, Simon. I’m tired. Do you still want to go for that drink?”
He frowns and shakes his head. “Don’t try to weasel out of it. We do this every Friday.”
I give him a resigned smile. “We do. Give me a minute to freshen up, will you?
He smiles. “Sure, meet you out front.”
I wander over to the large arched window overlooking the park. It’s just on dusk. Large magnolia trees surround the manicured lawn, which has four stone benches in the center. An old man is reading the paper on one of them. It’s a beautiful haven in the middle of a city. I’m lucky to have this view from my office. I blow out a breath as I take out my ponytail and redo it.
What are you doing now, Joshua? Who are you with? Why do I remember him in technicolor but live my life in black and white? I drag myself up and change my clothes. I feel like going out like a hole in the head. Why do I constantly agree to do things I don’t want to do?
Saturday at Mum’s is always the same. Bridget, my younger sister, who also moonlights as my best friend, goes on and on about her dickhead boyfriend. Mum and I always sit and listen while she vents, or at least we pretend to listen. We drink coffee, eat cake and read the papers, roll our eyes at each other and occasionally add our two cents’ worth. Which goes unnoticed I might add. It’s a Saturday morning ritual, an excuse to catch up.
“Oh.” Mum claps her hands in excitement. “I got my outfit for the wedding.”
“Oh yes,” I answer, blowing out a deep breath as I brush the crumbs off my shirt. My inability to get excited about anything is beyond rude.
“Don’t listen to her, Mum—she’s in a shitty mood this week,” Bridget snaps. I open my eyes wide at her. Implying Shut up. “What?” she snaps.
“Don’t start.” I scowl.
“Well, what’s with you this week?”
“You are very preoccupied lately, honey. Is everything all right?” Mum asks.
“Yes.” I roll my eyes and blow out a breath.
“Is it work?” she questions, cocking her head to the side and resting her coffee cup on her chest.
“Anything juicy?” Bridget asks excitedly.
“You know I can’t answer that,” I sigh.
“God, you’re no fun. Can’t you tell me about some hot nymphomaniac sex god you’re treating, one who’s looking for a blond travel agent? You know I’m living vicariously through you.” She smirks. Mum rolls her eyes.
“I wish I did treat sex gods,” I mutter. “I could do with a sex god or two in my life. Besides only women are called nymphomaniacs, men are called satyriasises.”
Bridget rolls her eyes, and I can’t help but smile. “I don’t care what they’re called. Just find two and arrange a double date.”
“Sure, you’re on.” I smile. Feeling guilty, I look at Mum. “Go and put your outfit on, Mum, let me see what it’s like.”
“OK.” She jumps from the chair excitedly and disappears down the hall toward her bedroom. Bridget carries on reading the paper. Moments later Mum breezes back into the kitchen in a beautiful layered plum number. She looks amazing.
“I love it.” Bridget claps her hands in excitement.
“You do look beautiful.” I nod.
“You don’t think it’s too tight?” she asks as she turns around and checks out her behind in the oven door, standing on her tiptoes.
I shake my head. “No, it’s perfect.” I smile at her.
“Oh, Natasha, what color did you say the dress you are wearing is?”
“Not sure yet, I have two to choose from.”
“OMG.” Bridget holds up both of her hands as if to say stop. “Listen to this,” She exclaims as she reads an excerpt from the gossip pages. “Joshua Stanton has returned to Australia to be the best man at his brother’s wedding and will be staying for three months to reorganize his work visa. Look out for him and his entourage, ladies, he’s quite the catch.”
Oh shit. My heart sinks.
Bridget is so excited. “Holy crap! He’s like famous now, in the gossip pages. Just how rich is he?”
“He’s a multimillionaire,” Mum answers. “Entourage—what, so he travels with an entourage?”
“I suppose.” She nods and shrugs her shoulders. “I know he employs a lot of people.”
“Margaret said he has a PA and a bodyguard now.”
I feel sick to my stomach. No one knows about Joshua and me. It happened on a trip when I was seventeen and he was nineteen and he was just a regular sex-charged teenager before he went to America. Our parents would have freaked; they would still freak if they knew. This man is frigging haunting me. What is the hold he has on me? This is what I’m lost about. Is it that he was my first? Or that he is forbidden to me? Even just the memory of him raises my pulse. I have been putting myself through self-inflicted torture for years when I put a Google alert on him. Every goddamn girl he’s ever gone out with is splashed all over the internet. Models, actresses, socialites, sluts.
However the hell you put it, he has long forgotten me. My heart sinks.
“Oohh,” Bridget gasps, “has he got a girlfriend?”
Mum hunches her shoulders. “I have no idea. No one special I don’t think. His mother would have loved gloating if he had.”
A cold shiver runs down my back. His mother, piece of work that she is, loves nothing better than to gloat to me how great Joshua is doing. How wealthy Joshua is. How many beautiful models Joshua dates. If I didn’t know better, I would say she is rubbing it in my face. Although I know she has no idea about what happened between us. Nobody does. Maybe that’s the problem, I’ve lived all these years without telling a soul. I need to vent. My feelings swing from lovesick to angry, resentful and hateful, and back to brokenhearted, all within an hour. While he lives this exciting full life, I’m still here, the village idiot, pining over a man that doesn’t even know I exist. I’m pathetic.
Well, he’s going to know I exist after this wedding because I am going to look so unbelievably hot. I’m going to rub his sorry ass in it. I narrow my eyes as I rethink my diabolical plan. Look hot, turn him on, lead him on and then reject him. He’s going to be begging for mercy by the time I’m finished with him, if I have to ram it down his puny throat. I’ve been planning this for six months. Operation Payback is going to be a bitch.
I smile. I think the only relief I’m going to get is the satisfaction that I’ll have the last word. I had no say in our demise, although it has haunted me for years. Perhaps that was the problem. I lied to him about our breakup. Told him what he needed to hear and not the truth. I’ve been overanalyzing this for years. In my clinical opinion I am suffering guilt-associated trauma. I need to eventually tell him the truth somewhere down the line so I can just move the hell on, and he can release me from this invisible Spider-Man hold he has on me. He is the last person I think of every night. I wonder who he’s with now and whether he ever thinks of me and misses me like I miss him. I’m sad, sad to my bones, a deep regretful sadness that I can’t shake. No matter how hard I try. My seemingly normal existence and happiness is a stage show. Not all the time. I am happy. I just feel an emptiness like something’s missing, a hole in my life, maybe similar to someone who grieves a person who has died, a mother who has lost a child. Even when I am happy, there is an emptiness that somehow won’t go away. And the memories. God, the memories. They haunt me. My mind wanders constantly, imagining us together in bed, snuggled up, making love for hours and hours. His tenderness, his adoration of me and my body. He did love me when we were together, I know this for certain, it was just so long ago. So why in the hell am I still in love with him after all this time? Am I even in love with him? I don’t even know him. I know my emotions are coming to a head because he’s due to touch down in Sydney anytime and I will, no doubt, see him. I’m excited and terrified at the same time.
“Does Joshua still play polo?” I ask, feigning nonchalance.
“Uh-huh, apparently he has a stables property, and his horses are worth millions.” I nod, disappointed by the answer. “His mother said he is also into kickboxing now.”
“Kickboxing?” I repeat as I frown. “That’s random.”
“Yes, I know.”
“What color did you say your dress is, Bridget?”
“White.”
“White!” I exclaim. “You can’t wear white.”
“Who cares.” She smiles. “I need to look hot. Josh might be bringing some hot guys to the wedding.”
“Haven’t we just been hearing all about Jeremy for the last hour?” Mum looks to the ceiling in frustration.
“Yeah, Jeremy Schmeremy.” She rolls her eyes. “You know my boyfriend’s a dick.”
We all laugh.
“I’ll drink to that.”
“Me too.” Mum laughs and we all clink coffee cups. “Hurry up and dump him already.”
Joshua
Sydney Airport, 5:23 p.m., Sunday
My private jet comes slowly to a halt on the tarmac. On board are Ben, my large South African bodyguard, Adrian, my personal assistant, eight computers with software, and a computer technician for each computer. The computer techs are all typical computer geeks.
“I have a large van and driver at your disposal,” I tell the lead tech-head.
“OK, that’s great.” He nods.
“You are all booked in at the Sheraton Hyde Park for the next three days until you all decide where you are staying. Stay in touch with Adrian with the details. The driver will pick you and the equipment up at 9:00 a.m. and take you to the office space we have hired.”
“Thanks, Mr. Stanton.”
“You all have company credit cards, just charge what you need.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Adrian and I wait as Ben picks up the car keys from the rental company. Ben is flicking through the pages of his iPad double-time.
“What the fuck are you doing there?” I frown as I look over Ben’s shoulder.
“Trying to get my bearings. I’m on Maps and it isn’t making sense.” He turns the screen around to look at it upside down and holds his head to the side.
“Yeah that app is useless; we really should design a decent one.” I look around disinterested, glance at my chunky Rolex watch and put one hand into the pocket of my navy three-piece suit. I’m wearing black oxfords, a crisp white shirt and a black tie, “I forgot how hot Aussie girls are,” I make an idle observation while rubbing my chin.
“Yes, I can’t wait to check out the Aussie men, apparently they are off the charts as well.”
I smile. “That goes without saying.” I widen my eyes at Adrian.
“Hmm, they’re conceited too, I found out,” Adrian scowls.
“Totally.” I raise one eyebrow and nod my head, still scanning the room.
Ben returns, pushing a trolley of luggage. “This way.” He gestures.
“This being on the wrong side of the road thing is weird.” Ben smirks while driving.
I smile as I sit in the front passenger seat, Adrian in the back seat. I start programming the navigation.
“What are you doing?” Ben asks.
“We are taking a quick detour,” I answer.
“Really?” Adrian whines. “I need to take a leak.”
“Shut up, enough of the backseat driving, who’s fucking this duck?” Adrian rolls his eyes in the rearview mirror at Ben who smiles at the usual banter.
Adrian scowls as he leans his head back into the headrest. “And for the record, I don’t fuck ducks.”
I smile and nod. “Good to know.”
Twenty-five minutes later we are driving up a one-way street in Rose Bay.
“Where the hell are we going?” Adrian asks.
I don’t answer as I crane my neck and look up the road.
“It should be just up here on the right. Pull in here.” I point to the left. I sit with my elbow on the car door, my thumb under my chin, rubbing the side of my pointer finger back and forward over my lips, deep in thought. We sit in silence for ten minutes.
“Mind telling me why we are here?” Ben asks quietly.
“Someone I used to know lives in that dark brick building over there.” I point to the large older style apartment block across the road, still deep in thought.
“And we are here because?”
“I want to find out what apartment 5B is. It looks like there are two apartments on each level. Is the left side A or B?”
“I’ll go look.” Ben hops out of the car and heads across the road. I stay silent, deep in thought. Adrian sits quietly in the back, as if assessing the situation.
Ben returns. “It’s on the right, five levels up.”
“Did you get in? Isn’t there a security door?”
“No, I went in when someone left.”
I nod and look up. “She’s home.”
“Looks that way,” replies Ben. We all stay silent for another ten minutes, then I get out of the car and walk around to the road side of the car, resting my rear on the door. My hands in my suit pant pockets, my feet crossed in front of me, I continue looking up at the window. Adrian and Ben follow, each standing on either side of me, also leaning on the car.
“What’s going on?” Adrian asks quietly. I stay silent.
“Why don’t you just go in and knock, man?”
I don’t move.
“Do you want me to go in and knock?” Adrian asks, but I shake my head.
“How long since you’ve seen this girl?” Ben asks.
“Seven and a half years,” I answer flatly.
“Does she know you’re back in town?”
“Nope.”
“So where do your parents live from here?” Adrian opens the back car door and gets out his iPad.
“Toorak, Melbourne. About twelve hours south.”
Adrian and Ben frown at each other.
“But I thought we were here for three months so you can see your family?”
“Yes, we are, but they are in another state.”
“Please don’t tell me we are in Sydney for this girl?”
I am still staring up to apartment 5B. “Maybe,” I answer. “To be truthful, I have no idea what we are doing here, I feel unsettled already.”
Ben raises his eyebrows. “Joshua Stanton unsettled by a woman; never thought I’d see the day.”
“It’s…complicated.” I blow out a breath.
Adrian’s mouth drops open. “But I thought you said. . . ”
“Yeah, I lied.”
“So, this girl…is her name…Natasha?”
Yes,”
“Hmm, a part of the jigsaw puzzle fits into place.” Ben smiles. “So you do have a heart?”
I smirk. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Adrian lies on his back across the hood and blows out a breath, hands behind his head. “You know, I think Rod Stewart was right on the money.”
Ben and I frown at each other and then him.
“You know, the first cut is the deepest.” All three of us smile.
“That is true. You remember every minute in detail. Come on, let’s go. Enough of this shit, she fucks with my head.”
“Aren’t we going in?” Adrian asks.
“No, I just wanted to see where she lives.”
“Does she have a boyfriend, married, what’s her story?” “No, no, nothing. Nothing I can dig up anyway.”
“You’ve kept tabs on her?”
“Yes, from a distance.”
“When did you last speak to her?”
After a silence of five minutes, “Seven and a half years ago, the day she dumped me.”
Adrian and Ben look at each other, the shock evident on their faces.
“So, you haven’t spoken a word to her since?”
“Nope.”
“You haven’t called?”
“Nope.”
We all look back to the window and the lights go off. Ben urges for a second time. “Just go in, man.”
“Even if I wanted to, the law forbids it.”
“She had a restraining order put on you?” Adrian gasps.
I shake my head. “No,” I answer quietly.
“Her parents did?”
I look back up to the window. “Something like that. Get in the car, let’s go and don’t let me come back here. This is pointless.”
“OK. But are we not here because of her? Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”
“Shut up, dick.” I smile at Adrian. “Stop making sense.” As the car speeds away, I put my head back into the seat and rub my face.
“I need a drink, a strong fucking drink.”
Bondi, 11:50 p.m.
I lean over the railing of the balcony looking out to the ocean, sipping my Cointreau and ice out of a thick short crystal tumbler. The place Adrian has rented for me for the three months is swank, on the water. It is a little dated and well below the standard of my LA house. We chose it because it was the only one near a surf beach that had another house next door for Ben and Adrian.
Having just run for an hour on the treadmill, I am freshly showered and barefoot and wearing a loose pair of sweats and a white Bonds tank top. It’s March. Here, it’s the first month of fall, a cool briskness hangs in the air. Desperately trying to rein myself in from googling her and finding out her phone number, I take another sip of my liquor and enjoy the warmth as I swallow, temporarily closing my eyes.
“This is a fucking disaster. I should have stayed in Melbourne,” I mutter to himself.
The doorbell rings and, assuming it’s Adrian, I saunter to the front door and open it. A beautiful caramel blonde in a trench coat and white high heels stands before me, a sexy smile playing on her lips.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for Joshua Stanton,” she breathes in a husky voice.
I raise an eyebrow. “You’ve found him.”
“I’m a friend of Carson’s. He asked me to deliver your housewarming present.”
I smile and raise both my eyebrows. “Did he now, and what would that be?”
She opens her coat and there she stands. White silk stockings, suspender belt, a white lace thong and short-cut white satin corset. Her body is tanned, toned and amazing. My jaw tics, I bend my head to the left as if trying to crack my neck. My eyes scan up and down her body and I stand back, raising my hand, gesturing for her to enter.
“I do love housewarming presents.” I smile a slow smile, which she returns.
“You know, I think tonight, for once, I will too.” She takes my hand. “I heard a little secret.”
“Oh yes, and what was that?”
“You like having your cock sucked.”
“You did, did you?” I smile. “Show me a man who doesn’t.” I open my eyes wide.
“Yes, it’s a coincidence don’t you think?” I look at her, puzzled. “Because tonight I’m in the mood to suck your cock dry.”
“Hmm. That is a mood that I like. Coincidental or not.” I smile. “I do have great friends, don’t I?” I add.
“You do. I’m a very expensive housewarming gift.”
I unashamedly look her up and down. “I can see that.” I lead her to the bar where I pour another Cointreau for myself. “Do you want a drink?” I hold up my glass and tip his my head to the side, cracking my neck again.
She shakes her head. “No thanks.”
I smile, raise my eyebrows and take her hand, leading her back to the foyer to go up the stairs to my bedroom, still carrying my drink.
“You know, you are just the distraction I needed tonight.”
She smiles.
“What did you say your name was?” I ask.
“What do you want it to be?”
I continue walking up the stairs, then and stop mid-step to turn and look at her. I narrow my eyes and put my chin at an angle.
“My bedroom is this way…Natasha.”
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