Ava

The second we walked in it was obvious. The conversations still flowed in the same manner but it was clear the topic had changed.

The way the eyes followed. Some leered, some jested and others were confused.

“Who is she?”

“Why her?”

“He chose her of all people?”

As though the pressure in the hall was different from the one outside, I felt a weight crushing down on me. I was out of place.

My body tightened and I tightened my fists, wondering if leaving at this point was still an option.

“Relax. They’re harmless.” Liam said, calmly.

“I never said they weren’t.” I defended.

“Oh really? Because you look like you’re about to run.”

I then noticed I was gripping his arm firmly, while he gently kept me in place.

We walked deeper into the gala, and I felt even more out of place.

Liam pulled me in. “You have nothing to fear.” He said, with absolute confidence.

No reassurance, no optimism. He said it like a person stating a fact. And that reassured me more than I expected.

Soon, Liam’s friends came one after the other. Each one trying to get what they could out of him. Some women came up to him, half staring at him and half staring at me.

Each one measuring, assessing, disparaging. Once again, I was gripping into Liam too tightly, and he pulled me in.

Suddenly, there was a warmth that dulled the embarrassment. The feeling of not belonging. But it didn’t last.

A woman suddenly came up to Liam, and she couldn’t have been much older than me.

She had beautifully styled blonde hair, and a dress that showed it was expensive without effort.

“Hey, Liam. Glad you could come.” She said warmly, and turned to me. “And who is this?”

“She’s with me.” Liam said, with the same indifference and factual confidence.

It wasn’t an introduction. But it was something.

“That’s good. That’s good…” she said, then continued. “But you really want to be careful. Otherwise people start to wonder about the type of company you’re keeping these days.”

Let it slide.

It wasn’t worth it.

But I couldn’t stop on time before I heard myself saying, “And what type would that be?”

She turned to me surprised, as though not expecting me to speak up.

She turned to Liam, expecting him to interfere and break up the mess she’d started. But he had no intention of doing so.

“The temporary kind.” She said finally.

Like a low blow, I bowed my head, staring at the floor, willing myself to vanish.

“Alright thank you, Stephanie. You’ve been amazing.” Liam said, as he placed his hand around my waist and walked me away from her.

“You know you didn’t have to do that right?” He asked.

“I did.”

“For me or for you?”

That was the problem. I wasn’t sure anymore.

A waiter passed us with a tray of champagne, and Liam grabbed two glasses. Without my permission he placed it in my hand, and gulped down his.

“I’m not really a drinker…” I said, staring warily at the glass.

“You are tonight.”

I stared down at the glass, and took a brave gulp.

It wasn’t instant, but I felt it. The painfully loud music was dulling, the leering eyes and disparaging comments were dying down. And the searing feeling of being out of place was weakening.

I had another drink. And then another. Until I simply didn’t care anymore.

I was about to grab another, when Liam stopped me.

“You don’t need more.” He said.

“I haven’t had enough.”

“Drinking yourself to stupor wouldn’t solve anything, Ava.”

“Oh? Then what will?”

He said nothing, as he stared into my eyes, as though communicating his intentions through his eyes.

And I felt it again. That palpitation. That thud in my chest that made me see Liam for more than what he let off. And I hated myself for that.

“Come, let’s dance.” He invited, taking my hand.

I had never danced a day in my life.

“I’m not really a dancer…” I said, trying to avoid the dance floor.

“You are tonight.” He said, and led me forward.

The eyes suddenly returned, and the alcohol seemed to lose its potency. The topics on the lips of the people around us were obvious.

Once again, I wanted to leave. To walk out of this party that had done nothing but make me feel weird and inferior.

Liam pulled me close to himself. He spread my palm, and fit his fingers in the spaces between mine.

He then placed his right hand on my waist, and pulled me even closer.

“Liam…”

“You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to. But if you leave now, they win.” He whispered as he moved to the rhythm of the music.

I raised my head, and met his gaze. There was something more to them. Something beyond the conceit and indifference.

I felt it again. The palpitation.

And then I placed my other hand on his shoulder, and danced along with his rhythm.

Slowly, steadily, I was getting the hang of it.

The eyes remained, but they didn’t matter anymore. Only one thing mattered. Only one person mattered.

Liam.

He didn’t break eye contact. He held on to me as he moved with the music, as he looked into my eyes, as though gazing at my very soul.

He wasn’t Liam anymore. Or at least not the one I had come to know. He was… different. More human. He was no longer operating like a programmed machine. He looked like a real person.

Our faces were much closer now, and I couldn’t pull away. I was engulfed in the rhythm, the flow, the passion.

We danced until the music came to a climax, and we were a lips distance away, each one capable of reading the other’s unspoken thoughts.

He led me out of the hall, holding me close, protective.

Soon we were by his car, and he was opening the door for me.

I didn’t want the night to end, but I didn’t want to tell him that either.

One night.

That had been the agreement. Whichever one amongst us broke that deal, would be responsible for the breach in etiquette.

Soon Liam stopped outside a large luxurious house.

“This isn’t my apartment…” I said, staring at him confused.

“Come inside.” He said, his tone inviting.

It wasn’t an order, and it didn’t sound like an ultimatum. Liam had never spoken to me in this manner before, and it set my heart ablaze.

It was time to decide. I could choose

what I wanted, or I could choose what was right. I could blame it on the alcohol, but my thoughts were not clouded.

I took his hand, and followed him in.

Ava

The moment the doors closed behind me, I knew it was a mistake. The house did not fall short of my expectations. Sleek, expansive. And quiet in a way that felt expensive.

Floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the city with lights that seemed to stretch on forever.

Untouchable.

Just like him.

“You can leave.” He said suddenly.

“What?” I asked, as I turned around.

“The door is still there. If you think this was a mistake.”

It wasn’t conceit, nor rudeness. It wasn’t polite nor was it inviting. It was something I had not encountered before.

“Then why did you bring me here?” I swallowed. “If you thought I would leave?”

“I wanted to see if you would.”

“And?”

“You’re still here.”

There was something about the way he said it. Not victory, not triumph. Something more… complicated.

“I don’t do this…” I said, more to myself than him.

“Neither do I.”

A laugh escaped me.

“What?” He asked.

“I find it hard to believe that.”

“You don’t have to.”

He steps closer, slow, calm, measured.

He’s giving me time to pull away. The right thing to do. But I don’t.

“You’re overthinking this.” He says.

“I’m not thinking enough.”

Because if I was, I would be gone.

Six years. Six years of living behind the walls I had built around myself. Closing myself off to everyone around me. Only Noah mattered, and that was enough.

But now, these walls were breaking. I watched helplessly as they did.

One man.

One night.

“You’re still deciding.” His voice cut through my thoughts.

“I have to make sure I’m not the same girl from back then. I have to make sure I’m not making the same mistake twice.”

“Someone hurt you.” It was calm, soothing.

“That’s not your concern.”

“It’s affecting your decision right now. It is very much my concern.”

He stepped closer.

“I’m not sure about this, Liam. I’d be lost if this ended badly.”

“How are you sure you already aren’t? You live for everyone but yourself.” He was closer now. “I recognize it, because…”

“Because you’re the same.” I responded.

We were in that moment again. At the gala. Nothing mattered, nothing existed, just us. Two people who understood each other more than they dared to admit.

I was in his arms again, but I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. Because I wanted it just as bad as he did, if not more.

“This is a mistake,” I said, my heart pounding.

“I know.”

“But you aren’t stopping.”

“You’re not asking me to.”

The space between us vanished.

Our lips locked, his hand held me gently, as he pulled me in even closer.

I felt his heat, his presence, his warmth. Something exploded inside me.

It had been long.

It had been too long.

He worked the robes behind my back, and I worked on removing his suit.

I was soon freed from my gown. And like a feather, he lifted me in the air, and carried me deeper into the house.

Our lips never separated. His tongue ran through my mouth hungrily, starved.

He kicked open the door to his bedroom, and lay me gently on the bed. I took off my underwear, and he did the same. Revealing his tumescent hardness.

I blushed in spite of myself.

His lips found mine again, and his fingers were exploring.

I ran my hands across his back and against his rock hard body.

God, he had a great build!

He cupped my breasts lightly, and brushed his thumbs against my nipples. I moaned, softly, as I arched my back.

He went in.

Smooth, gentle, careful. I held on to him tightly, and he went in again, and again.

His speed increased. And with every thrust came the explosion. The sensation I had yearned for, but repressed.

He was moving faster now, taking me with him on his journey to inexplicable bliss. Grabbed onto the sheets around me, as the pleasure was too much to contain. I moaned at his thrusts, willing them to go faster. Harder.

As though reading my mind, he obliged.

He was faster now, but still careful. Thrusting harder, and yet gentle.

And I was nearly at my peak. And he didn’t stop. And he kept going, and it was faster, and faster, and better, until I lost all feeling for a second. Until every inch of me felt it. The indescribable sensation of bliss.

And it filled me. As though stored forever, he released, and released, holding me firmly, as his balls contracted again and again. And then it was over.

He lay weakly on the bed beside me, his tumescence still in me.

He was out of breath, but he was making an effort not to show it.

I touched his face gently, brushing my thumb against it, the face that held nothing but conceit and indifference since I had met him. Was just a facade to conceal the vulnerable man beneath.

“Do you still think this was a mistake?” He asked, staring at me with eyes full of something I hadn’t seen before.

“Yes. But it’s a mistake I don’t regret making.”

And we lay there, each one staring at the other, eyes and hearts full of emotion. And soon, something else.

I wanted to feel it again.

“Sit up.” I said, as I left my position.

He did not protest. He let me lead him to the headboard, and I sat him up against it.

I took his member in my hands, and watched it grow tumescent again. Then I sat on it.

I moved with care, with caution, moving against him with rhythm.

His left hand was wrapped around my waist, and his right gripped the sheets firmly.

I increased the speed, and a low groan came from deep inside him. I rested one arm on the headboard, and another on his face.

I looked into his eyes, and there was no mistaking what was in them.

I closed the distance between us, and locked lips with him, moving at an even faster speed now.

He was reaching deep inside of me, and I pulled away at the raw sensation, hitting my center again and again. I arched my back, running my hand through my hair, removing it from my face as I bounced in him repeatedly.

Once again, I was nearing it, the point of inexplicable bliss.

Liam pulled me in, holding me tightly, as he groaned softly.

He exploded holding me tightly against himself, and so did I.

We soon separated, laying side by side, gasping for air.

Neither of us said a word. We quietly gathered our thoughts, as I wondered how long I had wanted this.

Lying to myself was a part of keeping my feelings safe. It was a part of keeping people out. But now that the walls had finally been torn down, I could be honest.

Had I always wanted Liam?

Liam was soon ready again, and with a ravenous hunger, he entered me. Pulsating as he reached deeper and deeper.

“Oh…fuck.” He exclaimed unconsciously.

I moved with his rhythm, giving in to the pleasure coming from my center. “Oh, I’ve wanted this for so long…”

Soon, we were at the highest peaks again, and gasping for air.

Our rest did not last long. Because soon, we were ready to go again.

***

I open my eyes, and morning light is spilling through the windows. I’m alone.

For a moment

I don’t move, don’t think, don’t feel.

I sit up, and the other side of the bed is empty.

Cold.

Like he was never there at all.

And just like that,

I had made the same mistake twice.

Ava

I don’t cry.

Not anymore. Tears don’t fix anything. I learned that the hard way.

As I stood in Liam Blackwell’s office, less than twelve hours after waking up alone in his bed, I stood there wondering how someone could look the same, and feel so different.

“Is there something you need, Miss Harris?”

The words hit like a slap. A loud painful slap whose sting didn't fade away.

Miss Harris. Not Ava. Not the woman he’d held in his arms the night before. He looked like a stranger sitting from across the office, distant and untouchable.

I gripped the files closely to my chest, not letting the hurt show on my face.

“I came to confirm the staff projections for Q3.” I say, trying my best to steady my voice.

He barely looks up from the documents on his desk.

“Leave it there.”

No hesitation, no inflection, no remorse.

He was void of any sentiment from the night before and all that was left was indifference.

He was going to act like nothing happened.

Like I didn’t happen.

A sharp pain twisted in my chest, and I fought back the tears. Breaking down in front of him would be… pathetic.

He looked up with the same gaze he would an employee overstaying their welcome.

“Yes?”

I could leave now. Pretend I wasn’t hurt so bad I could barely move.

“You left.”

Direct.

Straightforward.

“Yes.”

“You couldn’t stay long enough to say anything?” An anger was consuming me, and it was evident.

“That wasn’t necessary.”

Precise. Clean.

He was purposeful with his words. As though he wanted to send a very clear message.

But he already sent the message. When he invited me to the gala. The agreement, the deal.

I was the fool who forgot.

“Right,” I say “Ofcourse.”

I swallowed, gripping so tight I could feel my fingers bore into my skin.

“It was a mistake.” He voiced, keeping the same nonchalant tone.

It hurt so much I began to find the situation funny.

“Wow.” I chuckled. “You move fast.”

“It’s important we make what happened last night clear.”

“Clear?” I was no longer putting in an effort to control my temper. “You disappear without saying anything and you call that clear?”

His eyes dimmed. “I’m calling this clear,” he says, his tone getting colder. “What happened last night shouldn’t have happened.”

Like a blow to the chin.

What happened last night. Getting dressed, getting into his car, getting insulted and then finding warmth in his arms. He had been so different. He had felt so different.

For a moment, I really thought he was different. That he understood me.

“Right…” My voice trailed off. “Got it.” I hated how my emotions were evident in my tone.

And then I stared at his eyes. Cold, unfeeling, remorseless. He had gotten what he wanted, and now he wanted out.

The situation felt nostalgic. Only I wasn’t in the office of a billionaire, I was eighteen again, and in a small restaurant.

“This isn’t really working.”

“I think we should see other people.”

“This complicates things.”

“I want out.”

He had been so charming at first. And I had fallen headfirst. Charmed by his wits and humor, getting me was light work for him. And then he had hurt me.

He had saddled me with a pregnancy and then left. I had college to complete, I had my whole life in front of me. Quitting and aborting the pregnancy was the easiest solution. But it wasn’t the right one.

I had forged through college whilst caring for a child and vowed never to make the same mistake twice.

I built walls to shield me from such hurt. From monsters who charmed their ways into my heart.

And I had fallen again. This time it hurt so much more because I had prepared myself against it. And he had gotten me regardless.

“It won’t happen again.” He said, cutting through my thoughts.

There was a finality to his tone, that felt like he was ripping my heart out.

“Don’t worry.” I swallowed. “I don’t plan on repeating it either.”

His eyes flashed. Not what I saw last night, but not the same as indifference. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something.

It didn’t last long, as his nonchalant look soon returned. “You should focus on your work.” He paused. “That’s what matters here.”

Distant.

Polite.

Professional.

Like last night had died off, he had reassumed the same Boss-Employee relationship.

Nothing beyond work mattered.

“Yes, what matters,” I repeat softly, coming to terms with the full reality.

I tossed the documents on his desk, and headed for the door.

But it hurt too much. He had hurt me far too much for me to just leave like that. I at least deserved an answer.

“So is this how you do things?” I ask, my hand still on the door.

“Do what?” He asked, confused.

“You use someone to get what you want, and then you toss them aside.”

He sat back. “That’s not what this is.”

“Then what is it?”

He hesitated. Selecting his words very carefully. “It’s me correcting a lapse in judgment.”

It’s cold and unfeeling. The words hit with no emotion behind them. Perhaps if there was, I could console myself with either remorse, anger, or even pity. But there was nothing.

“Thank you.” I said, twisting the doorknob.

“For what?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

“For reminding me why I don’t do this.”

And I left. I rushed pass Clara, his secretary, ignoring her inquiring glances.

I needed to get somewhere with privacy. Somewhere I could be alone.

“I’m not really a dancer…”

“You are tonight.”

My eyes felt heavy with tears. I couldn’t… not yet.

“Last night was a mistake.”

“It’s me correcting a lapse in judgment.”

From my nearly blurred vision, I could see an elevator that was inactive. And I prayed from

the bottom of my heart that it was empty.

The doors slid open, and it was. The second they closed behind me, I gave in.

I sat on the floor, and broke down.