Chapter 8 Against The Window

• Harper
• I cry out, pleasure radiating through my body as Damien reaches around and thumbs my clit in time with his hard, deep thrusts.
• “How does it feel, little red bird?” he asks as he makes me come again.
• “S-So good.” My teeth chatter, and my knees are weak.
• He forces a third orgasm out of my body. Then a fourth. And still he doesn’t cum.
• “Damien,” I beg. “Please.” Damien must be close. I know he has to be close. “Please, Damien, cum inside me!”
• “Mmm, my good girl.” He slaps my ass, and my whole body tenses. I come again, and this time, as my body spasms around him, he finally grunts a few times and joins me.
• He groans, and his whole body shudders, but he’s still holding me up when my knees give out and I would have slid down the glass. He keeps pumping in and out of me until both our tremors cease.
• I can’t believe I just fucked a billionaire! I look back over my shoulder, and Damien is giving me a dirty look, as though he can read my mind.
• “Do you always last that long?” I ask him.
• Damien chuckles. “No. You’re just that sexy.” He slips his cock out of me. “Damn, little red bird, I haven’t had it this good in years.”
• “I’d tell you I’ve never had it this good,” I reply, almost wheezing. “But I don’t want to over-inflate your ego.”
• “Oh, I know you’ve never had it this good. You’ve never been with a mature man who knows what he’s doing.” He grins. “Now, how about a naked art tour? I promise we’ll end up in the bedroom and have more of the same. How do you like that plan?”
• My whole body tingles in anticipation. “I’d like that very much.”
• This time, I’ll be sure to text McKenzy so she doesn’t worry about me.
• * * *
• As Damien pulls up in front of Carleton Artist Lofts in his black Lamborghini Sunday morning, I notice a tan sedan drive slowly by us. For a second, I think I recognize the driver, but I only see the back of his head, so I can’t be sure. I shake my head. It’s probably another renter I’ve seen in the hallways.
• “I’m flying back to New York in a few hours. I’ll let you know when I’m back in town,” Damien says, cupping my cheek.
• “Okay,” I respond, giving him a wicked smile.
• Damien laughs and then presses his lips to mine in a searing kiss. “Go on. I’m sure McKenzy is pacing the floor about to burst.”
• “Probably,” I agree. I kiss him again then get out of the car. “Have a safe trip.”
• “Have lots of great dates, little red bird,” he replies. He watches to make sure I get into the apartment building then pulls away with a wave.
• As Damien predicted, McKenzy is all a-twitter and launches into a barrage of questions as soon as I walk through the door.
• “Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” she all but screams. “Did you sleep with Damien Blackwood? One of the richest men in America?”
• “Well, to be fair, we didn’t do much sleeping…” I confess, smiling as McKenzy wraps me up in a bone-crushing hug.
• “I knew it! I just knew you’d hit it off. Now, all your financial troubles are over!”
• I frown at her. “McKenzy, I’m not going to fuck him for money.”
• “Why not? You need it. He has it. Win-win,” she says.
• “I don’t want to be his sugar baby.” I blush, however, thinking it wouldn’t be that bad of a deal.
• “Seriously? Man, you are missing a HUGE opportunity here.” She sighs, shaking her head at me as though I’m out of my mind.
• “Seriously,” I reply firmly.
• McKenzy rolls her eyes. “Ugh. You and your morals. I swear.”
• “Speaking of which, Damien already provided me with enough money to get me through this month and most of next,” I remind her. “And I’m going to keep dating him, but not for money anymore. He’s flying out to New York this afternoon, but he’ll be back.”
• “You mean, you’re not even going to take dates with him through the app anymore? Girl, how are you going to get rent money?” McKenzy demands. “You’re not getting it from Scott either, so…?”
• “I’ll figure it out. Damien practically threw me at the feet of the art world last night. Maybe I’ll get some sales or commissions or something. Who knows?” I say excitedly.
• “Really?” She jumps up and down. “That’s fantastic!”
• My cell rings, and I pull it out of my clutch. I recognize the number to The Witch’s Brew. “Hang on a sec, McKenzy. I need to get this.”
• “Sure, sure.” She sits down in one of her chairs and watches me with interest.
• When I answer, Rebecca, the owner, starts right in. “Harper! You’re never going to believe this. Some guy named Julian Price just walked in here and bought every single piece of your art! And he paid double!”
• “He paid double?” I think of Julian and feel a little bad. “He didn’t have to do that.”
• “He said he’ll probably get thousands for them, so I wouldn’t feel too bad,” Rebecca explains. “And then Michael Vernon, the man himself, came in here! He was disappointed that your paintings were gone, but he also said he was proud of you and you deserve it. He wanted me to give him your number. I thought that was okay.”
• I swear I’m going to pee myself with excitement. “That’s great! No, really, thank you for giving him my number.”
• “He also said our coffee is to die for,” Rebecca continues proudly. “Maybe we’ll be the next big artist hangout, and it’s all because of you! I can’t thank you enough, Harper. I don’t know what you did, but keep doing it! Oh, and I need more paintings. Unless you’re too big time now for a little coffee shop. I’d totally understand.”
• “I’ll never be too big for a little coffee shop,” I reply, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll have to finish some pieces I’ve been working on, but you can expect more within a week.”
• “That’s great! I’ll see you soon.” She hangs up.
• McKenzy is squirreling around in her chair. “So?”
• “The paintings at The Witch’s Brew have completely sold out,” I tell her, dazed.
• “Well then, what are you waiting for? Get your ass over to that easel and finish something!” McKenzy stabs a finger in the direction of my painting corner situated under the tall loft windows. With a smile, I head over to get started on a new painting.
• * * *
• It’s the Wednesday after my very full weekend. I’m just adding a touch of green to one of my canvases, and sitting back to see if it needs any more finishing touches, when my phone dings the At a Loose End tone.
• “Shit,” I grumble. “I forgot to take down my profile.” I go in, and out of curiosity, look at who’s requested me.
• I do a double-take. “No fucking way!”
• “What?” McKenzy asks, looking up from where she’s sketching designs for a new sofa on her tablet.
• “It’s my ex!” I gape, setting down my brush and pallet and going over to show her my screen.
• “No fucking way.” She sets her tablet on the coffee table and snatches my phone from me. “Oh, my God. It really is Rafael!”
• Rafael–known as ‘Bullet’ in the NFL–and I were high school sweethearts. McKenzy knows this. In fact, I cried on her shoulder when we broke up. That was years ago, before he made it big time.
• “So, this asshole is trying to get back with you through an app? After he cheated on you with your friend?” she shouts indignantly.
• “Guess so,” I seethe.
• “What a jackass! Here, let me reply. I’ll write something that will make his balls shrivel off,” she promises. “I mean, the fucking gall—holy shit!”
• “What?” I ask, plopping down next to her on the couch she designed last year. Artistic, yet comfortable, McKenzy’s whole life motto.
• She points at the offer. “Do you see how much he’s offering?!”
• I look where she’s pointing. Then my eyes just about bug out of my head. “No way.”
• “I didn’t know you were capable of adding that many zeroes on At a Loose End!” She opens the offer and we both stare once more. “Looks like it’s legit.”
• “Is he out of his damn mind?” I gasp.
• McKenzy looks thoughtful. “Actually, I think you should take the date.”
• “What? Why? My art gig’s picking up–”
• “Yeah,” she interrupts. “But it’s always good to have something in reserve, and you can also tell this sleaze, to his face, what you think of him trying to buy you.”
• “If I go on a date with him, isn’t that the same as letting him buy me?” I ask dubiously.
• “Nah. This is you fleecing his dumb ass for money then telling him he can shove his head right back up his ass,” she replies. “I mean, for real, he owes you at least this much. He slept with your friend!”
• I press my lips into a thin line, starting to come around to McKenzy’s way of thinking. “He did sleep with my friend,” I mutter.
• “See? There you go. Get some of your own back.” She hands my phone back to me. “Accept.”
• With a defiant lift to my chin, I do. I accept.
• * * *
• BulletViking: Hey, Harper. Never thought you’d accept my request.
• I look at my screen flash Rafael’s message and choose to ignore it, going back to layering some blue paint on an abstract sky.
• BulletViking: I know you’re still mad at me.
• “No shit, Sherlock,” I grunt.
• BulletViking: I swear I didn’t sleep with Melody. I don’t even like her. Fuckin’ bitch.
• That made two of us, but I wasn’t going to respond to him. I’d heard it straight from the horse’s mouth he’d slept with my friend. She’d even provided proof!
• BulletViking: I don’t know how she got a pair of my boxers…
• “Maybe because you left them in her room?” I reply snidely to the phone, even though he can’t hear me.
• BulletViking: Come on, Harper. Please talk to me. Yell at me. Scream. Call me names. Something.
• I grind my teeth, then pick up the phone.
• ArtIsMyLife33: Are you seriously going to try to tell me you didn’t sleep with Melody?
• BulletViking: I didn’t! I swear I didn’t!
• ArtIsMyLife33: Yeah, right. I don’t even know why you contacted me for a date, you masochist!
• BulletViking: I don’t know why you’re on a pay-to-date site. Are you hard up for money, sugar?
• ArtIsMyLife33: Don’t you “sugar” me, you son of a bitch! If you’d offered a penny less, I’d have rejected your offer and let McKenzy shrivel your balls off!
• BulletViking: LOL, shrivel my balls off? How was she going to do that?
• ArtIsMyLife33: I don’t know. But it would have been epic.
• BulletViking: I have no doubt. I’d rather you shrivel my balls off, though.
• ArtIsMyLife33: I will on Friday!
• BulletViking: LOL! I’m looking forward to it.
• I growl at the phone and start stabbing the off button, when a thought occurs to me.
• ArtIsMyLife33: What are YOU doing on a pay-to-date site?
• BulletViking: How about you ask me on Friday, sugar?
• ArtIsMyLife33: I will. And don’t call me “sugar”!