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While I enjoyed the nostalgia of being in the park for most of the day, the Croix ride is still my favorite. I didn't have to stand in line for an hour to board it, and it's lasting a whole lot longer than a few minutes.
Wanting to show my appreciation for everything he's done for me, I crawl on top of Croix the second I have him naked in bed. He rests his arms behind his head as I grab the base of his cock to guide it into me. Instead of taking him deep right away, I tease the wide helmet against my clit, grinding on him. He hisses in approval, watching me with hooded eyes. There are several moments when I think he's going to grab my hips to take control, but he doesn't, patiently allowing me to continue my seduction.
By the time I nudge his glans against my channel, I can feel his cock throbbing, the blood fully pooled there with need. Just knowing how aroused he is makes my body react. I want to keep teasing him—want to work him up until he has blue balls—but my own desperation to feel him inside of me won't allow it.
When I finally take him into me, the spreading sensation is absolutely euphoric. I close my eyes as I hold my arm above my head, my hand fisted in my own hair as I ride him slowly. He reaches up to grab two handfuls of my breasts, squeezing them softly before tweaking my already beaded nipples. I rotate my hips, feeling him touching every part of me. The delicious moans falling from his lips spur me to grind faster, to bob my body up and down on his dick until he's warning me of his release.
There's something incredibly sexy about seeing him panting and spent below me, of feeling his cock pulsing as he expends himself and knowing that I did this. I made him come. I overwhelmed his body with so much pleasure that he couldn't handle it any longer.
The second I feel his dick swell to spurt into me, I'm lost too. That feeling—it's unlike anything I can describe. It does something to me that turns all of my pleasure sensors on overdrive. My cunt clamps down on him, and his cock fights against the pressure. We shatter together, breathless and satiated.
***
“I wish I had a rich man to take me to Disney World. I haven't been there since I was a child.” Cindy hands me a cup of low-carb hot chocolate before sitting beside me on the sofa.
It was a long drive back from Orlando, and I'm absolutely exhausted even though I didn't really do anything. Croix drove the whole way there and back. All I had to do was relax.
The screen on my phone glows with a notification, and I pick it up with a smile, expecting it to be a text message from Croix. When I see the name at the top of the notification, my heart sinks.
Derrick: Have you thought about my offer yet?
“Ew.” I turn my phone over as if it will make me unsee his name.
“What's so ew about that?” Cindy gives me a queer look.
“Not ew about you wanting to go to Disney World.” I shake my head. “Derrick just sent me a text.”
“Oh? What did he have to say?” she asks curiously.
“He just wanted to know if I've considered his offer.” I raise the mug to my lips and blow the steam off the top before taking a sip. The hot chocolate tastes like watered down protein shake. Not the worst thing ever, but definitely not something I'd ever crave.
“And have you?” Cindy raises an eyebrow in interest.
“No.” It hasn't even crossed my mind. In fact, I've been so wrapped up with Croix lately that I practically forgot Derrick had come into my office in the first place. Never in a million years did I think he'd follow up with me about the offer. He's not the type of guy to go running after anyone.
“Double your current salary is a pretty good deal,” Cindy mutters. I know she's not trying to convince me to take the job, but it sure sounds like it.
“Money isn't everything,” I sigh, turning my phone back around.
“Are you going to respond to him?”
“I should.” I tap the screen to bring up the text message. Right behind it is the last text message I ever sent Derrick, a long paragraph confessing that I love him and begging him to take me back. That was sent almost exactly a month after we broke up when I felt like I couldn't live without him anymore. Derrick never responded back to that text, a text that I poured so much of my heart and soul into. It was proof that he didn't care. Proof that he never deserved my love in the first place.
I know I shouldn't respond, but anger from the past slight makes my fingers get to work typing out something that I hope will get under his skin.
Raven: You can take your job offer and shove it up your ass.
Dots dance across the screen as he types a response. He's never responded to anything I've sent him this quickly before.
Derrick: Don't say something you know you'll regret.
I've already said plenty to him that I regret, starting by telling him that I loved him.
Raven: The only regret I've ever had was you.
Derrick: I can make you regret so much more.
His words send an ominous shiver down my spine.
“Check this out.” I hand my phone over to Cindy.
She reads through the texts that I wanted her to read before scrolling up to the ones that are way too personal. I snatch the phone back from her, not wanting her to see how broken he made me.
“That sounds like a threat to me.” She gives me a concerned look.
“It's empty,” I assure her, though it still hurts.
“You might want to turn that over to the police.”
“Are you serious?” I quirk my head back. “He didn't even say anything specific.”
“No, but I don't like the sound of that. You need to stay away from that guy.” I can hear her motherly instincts kicking in.
“Don't worry. I plan on it. If he comes into the office again, I'll let Croix deal with him.”
What can Croix do, though, if Derrick decides to do something crazy?
***
I must have re-read Derrick's text messages a dozen times before I went to bed. The fact that he can still stab at my heart is unsettling. I've moved on. At least, I think I have. Things are going well with Croix. I want to be with him. I care about him and can definitely feel myself falling for him.
Why does what Derrick said bother me so much, then?
I wake up with a heaviness in my chest. Again, a feeling that is so distinctively Derrick Wight. It's mixed with something else, foreboding probably brought on by the threat in his last message. What else could he possibly make me regret? He can't touch me now—can't hurt me anymore if I don't let him.
I get dressed and head into work, trying to forget the text conversation from the night before. When I pull onto North Ocean Boulevard, I'm relieved to see that there are no picketers waiting to wave their signs at my car. Maybe they finally gave up and decided to stop harassing us. That doesn't make sense, though, since the resort hasn't even opened yet.
My gaze travels up the side of the building, and my breath hitches as I notice broken glass. It doesn't take long to figure out what happened when I turn into the parking lot and see the flashing of police lights. There are five cars in front of the place. Broken glass is everywhere from all of the knocked out windows. Graffiti is sprayed all over the side of the building. Some of it is just random tagging. Other messages are clear.
Down with The Billionaires Club.
You're not welcome here.
Get out of our town.
Almost the second I park my car, a news crew pulls up in the parking lot behind me. I groan, noticing that it's the same van from last time. Can these vultures not give us a fucking break?
Without hesitation, I fling the door of my car open and step out. I need to make it to the door before Austin Villarreal makes it to me.
She's been through this before, though. Austin is ready for the chase. Her news crew practically leaps out of the van with their cameras ready. She jogs towards me with her microphone in hand. I hold my palm out towards her as I pick up my pace, ready to outrun her if I have to.
“Miss Tarley, what just happened here?” she calls to me.
“What in the fuck does it look like happened here?” I bark back at her, not turning around until I reach the door. “If you step one foot inside of this building, I'll have you arrested for trespassing.”
***
“I can't believe this happened.” Croix leans against the wall in his office, his eyes cast towards the ceiling. His normally perfect hair is a mess from him tearing his hands through it. The level of stress on his face is something I've never seen before.
We've spent the vast majority of the day with the police. They've taken pictures of all of the damage and set up a fence around the perimeter to keep the riffraff out, not that it helps now. The place has pretty much been destroyed. It looks like at least twenty people with sledgehammers have been through here. Every window in the building is broken. What furniture that could be easily carried out has been stolen. The bigger pieces are smashed to smithereens. The mattresses have been torn, the curtains in many of the rooms have been shredded(the ones that weren't stolen). Most of the interior walls now either have holes in them or some kind of damage.
The police said that someone hacked the security system and erased the video footage to get rid of the evidence. They dusted for fingerprints but didn't come up with much.
Whoever did this had it planned for a while. This wasn't just a group of unorganized vandals. They came through the building like a strategic storm, doing thousands of dollars worth of damage in a short span of time. Somehow no one saw them. I don't understand it. North Ocean Boulevard is a busy street. Surely, there has to be at least one witness. Maybe it's just that no one cares.
I didn't hesitate to show the police the text messages between Derrick and me when they asked if I had any idea who would do something like this. They pretty much wrote it off as an empty threat, saying that this wasn't the work of one man. When I tried to explain to them that Derrick could afford to hire people, they said they'd look into it.
“Are you going to be alright?” I approach Croix timidly.
He holds his arms out to me, and steps into them, resting my head against his chest. “It's not me I'm worried about.”
I can't help but think he's talking about me. If Bruno decides not to reopen The Billionaires Club, I'll be out of a job. That was one of the first things that came to mind when I saw the place. People may have made threats to the California location, but no one ever did anything like this. It's a clear sign that someone doesn't want us here. Perhaps a lot of someones. There's no guarantee that if we rebuild this won't happen again.
“Have you spoken to Bruno yet?” I listen to the steady sound of Croix's heartbeat. I wish it was more soothing to me than it actually is.
“He knows what happened here,” his voice is deadpan.
“And? What did he have to say?”
“He wants me to fly to California. Us to fly to California,” he quickly corrects himself. “He wants to talk about whether or not to continue with the opening of The Billionaires Club.”
I push away from him gently, looking up at his face to see his expression. “Do you think he's going to approve it?”
“I don't know.” Croix shakes his head, running his fingers through my hair. “This place has come under a lot more resistance than either of us could have imagined.”
That goes without saying. All the times that he assured me we were safe sounds like empty words now.
“What happens if he decides to scrap this location?” I don't want to know the answer, but I need it. I have to be prepared for what's to come.
“I don't know.” Croix inhales sharply. “I don't really want to think about that right now.” I can tell by his tone that he's ready to drop the subject. It's a bit disheartening. So much hinges on Bruno's decision. Not just my job but the possibility of my relationship with Croix dissolving.
Without The Billionaires Club, there's nothing for him here. He'll probably pack up and head back to New York to continue running his investment firm. I'll become nothing more than a passing fancy. It hurts to think about it, but that's the reality that we're facing. Knowing it's a possibility makes me cling to him. He rubs my back, likely having no real idea what's going through my head or my heart.
We stay like that for several minutes, holding each other in the rubble.
“There's nothing for us to do here. Do you want to go get breakfast?” Croix asks.
“Sure.” I nod weakly before breaking away from him.
