The Bonus

I cannot believe that just happened.

All those years of longing and pining…and damn it. I hate that the sex was as good as I imagined it would be. But…to act like that after it? Just, what the fuck?

The car comes to a halt as a crossing guard holds up a stop sign for a delivery truck that is reversing onto a building site.

My mind is running at a million miles per minute, I’m shocked. Shockder than shocked, and shockder isn’t even a word.

We wait for the delivery truck as I go over the last hour’s events. You know what…this is good.

This is the closure that I needed. The proof that the man I stupidly pined over for all these years doesn’t even exist. He’s not sweet and loyal underneath. He doesn’t care about anyone but his selfish self.

Gabriel Ferrara is a bona fide bastard to the bone.

Just like the world thinks he is.

“Just going to take a call,” Mark tells me. He’s wearing a headpiece, so I didn’t hear it ring.

“That’s fine.”

He taps his ear to answer. “Hello,” he says, he listens for a moment. “Yes, okay.” He listens again. “Tomorrow is fine.” He listens again. “Okay, I’ll chase it up. Goodbye.” He hangs up.

Must be Mark’s girlfriend or something, I wonder what it’s like to date someone like him where he’s working all hours.

I go back to my daydream, also known as the murder plot.

You know what…fuck him.

Who the hell does he think he is, seduces me in his office, fucks me on his desk, comes inside of me? He didn’t even offer a condom; I probably have an STI now.

I run my hand down my face in disgust.

Ugh.

What the hell, that was a complete fucking disaster.

Thank god I’m moving and I never have to see him again.

I picture how cold he was: Do you want me to walk you out?

No.

I want your dick to fall off, that’s what I want, asshole.

How dare he have a good dick!

I’m infuriated.

Rich, handsome, endowed…selfish, motherfucking fuckface.

I glance up, why is it taking so long to get home? Where even are we?

“What’s this way?” I ask.

“I had to take a detour for the accident back there,” Mark replies.

“Oh.” I didn’t even notice an accident, that’s how preoccupied I am. “Okay.” I slump back into the seat and continue my pity party for one.

The car finally pulls up. “Here you go, Grace.”

I frown as I peer out the window. “This isn’t my house, Mark.”

“Mr. Ferrara called and asked that you be dropped back at his place.”

“He did what?”

The door opens from the outside, and Gabriel looks down at me. “Get out.”

“Go to hell,” I spit.

He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the car and I snatch my hand out of his. “Do not fucking touch me.”

The doormen on his fancy building all turn to see the commotion.

“Up. Stairs,” he growls in a whisper. “People are watching.”

“I am not going anywhere with you,” I whisper angrily. “You think you can treat me like that.”

“What did you want? The whole office to know that we just fucked on my desk?” he whispers angrily. “Upstairs now.”

I stare at him, my mind a cluster of confusion.

What?

He grabs my hand and leads me into the building, but I’m too mad to focus on a thing, next minute we are in the elevator, the doors slowly close and we turn to face them.

My angry heartbeat is hammering in my chest, and I rip my hand from his. “Do not touch me, Gabriel. I swear to god, I’m about to lose my living shit with you.”

He smirks, clearly amused. “Anger is an aphrodisiac to me, Grace. I wouldn’t push your luck; my control is hanging by a thread as it is.”

I cross my arms and glare at the back of the doors. I have never been so infuriated.

“You’re an asshole,” I spit.

“I have been told that once or twice.”

“Per hour, no doubt,” I fume. “And just what the hell makes you think you can ejaculate inside of me without asking? How selfish can you be? I probably have an STI now.”

“I always wear condoms; trust me, you do not have an STI,” he snaps. “And I know you’re on the pill. I just…I couldn’t help myself.”

“How the hell do you know I’m on the pill?” I fume.

“I see them in your purse all the time, and on occasion, I even look at where you are in your month.”

“What?” I explode.

“Well, some days you hate me more than others and I want to know why.”

“Because you’re an asshole, Gabriel. That’s why I hate you more on some days. Today being a prime example.” I can hear my angry heartbeat in my ears. “I don’t even know why I’m here with you.”

“But you are here.”

“I was ambushed.”

He does smile this time, and it’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull.

“I’m not one of your bimbos, Gabriel.”

“I am well aware of that.”

“So why bring me here?” I huff.

I want answers, all of them. Start talking, motherfucker.

He stands silently as if contemplating my question and the elevator doors give a soft ding as we arrive at the floor. They open and my heart drops.

Fuck.

The elevator has opened up straight into his apartment, or should I call it an…Italian Colosseum.

He steps out of the elevator but I stay still as I look around.

I’m too shocked to move.

“Out.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the elevator, and I stumble forward.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I look around.

Jeez.

I always knew that Gabriel Ferrara had expensive taste, but this is next level. The walls are a soft hue of gold. The ceilings are sky high, and huge dark wooden archways interconnect the rooms. The arches remind me of something you would see in an historic church or something. Grand and oversized.

The furnishings are all beautiful dark wooden antiques. Huge navy and maroon Aubusson rugs are on the dark timber floors. Beautiful artworks in huge gold gilded frames are hanging on the walls.

It’s like a step back in time to a king’s palace or something.

“Welcome to my home.” His eyes twinkle with pride.

Suddenly, I remember the mission. That’s right, I hate you.

“It’s nice,” I lie through gritted teeth. It’s not nice, it’s fucking fabulous, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction of gushing over it.

His dark eyes hold mine.

“Don’t look at me like that.” I drop my shoulders to try to look tough and in control.

“Like what?” Before I can answer the question, he cuts me off. “Like I want to taste every inch of your skin?”

I feel myself melt into a puddle. Don’t start talking dirty, I won’t stand a chance.

“Yes.”

“But I do, Gracie. I cannot hide it. I won’t even try to. I haven’t even touched the surface with the things I want to do to you.”

Arousal begins to steal my brain. “You shouldn’t be such an asshole, then,” I whisper. That didn’t sound convincing, even to me.

“Do you know me at all?” He smiles as he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my fingertips. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.

Oh…

I watch him softly kiss my hand. “That’s the problem, I do,” I whisper, distracted.

He’s just so…

“I’m not your plaything, Gabriel,” I say as I pull my hand from his grip.

“But I am your toy to play with.” He smirks. “Only too happy to donate my body to science.”

“You think I’m a science experiment?” I squeak.

He tips his head back and laughs out loud, and I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from smiling too.

“Would you like a drink?” he asks.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether I’m getting an apology for your assholeness or not.”

His eyes dance with delight, and I get the feeling that it is me who is the toy. “Gracie.” He takes me into his arms and drops his lips to my neck. “I am sorry for acting like myself at the office.” He bites me, and goose bumps scatter up my arms. “I should have acted like someone else.” He teases me as he bites me again. “Because the very least you deserve is for me to act like I want the entire office to know my business.”

He bites me again, and my body melts against his as I grab his hair.

Okay, what the hell is this?

He’s taunting me while not apologizing and my body is lapping it up.

Asshole.

I take a step back from him. “I’d like that drink now, please.”

“Of course.” He licks his lips as his eyes hold mine and the darkness behind them sends a shiver down my spine.

I get the feeling that I’m going to get it.

Hard.

He walks into another room off the living room and down a corridor and I tentatively follow.

Holy…what the?

It’s a bar. A fully fledged huge bar, the walls are dark green and the bar is a rosewood timber.

He begins to pour the drinks as my eyes look around the space.

There’s a pool table, a card table, even a roulette table. It’s like a damn casino in here. To the right, there’s a sunken room with a black circular leather couch around a pole.

Huh?

“What’s the pole for?” I ask.

“Strippers,” he says casually as he takes a sip of the drink he’s just poured.

I stare at him as my brain misfires, what do you even say to that?

“You have strippers to your house?” I gasp.

“Of course I do. I certainly don’t want to go to their houses,” he replies casually as he passes me a heavy crystal glass.

What the…

I’m shocked, shocked to my core. He has a fucking stripper pole in his bar room.

I take a sip and wince, so strong. Ugh, it’s horrible. “Is this stripper juice?”

He raises his glass in the air with a cheeky wink. “Something like that.”

“Figures,” I reply dryly. I imagine all the hot women he must have here, and insecurity creeps in. What could he ever see in me?

Damn it, maybe I do need this liquid bravery. I take a huge gulp and it burns all the way down.

Ugh… Oh, hell.

Perhaps tonight’s stripper may be throwing up after drinking this, but whatever. He asked for it.

“Sit.” He points to a stool at the bar, and without thinking I do as he says and drop to the seat. He sits down beside me; his eyes linger on my lips as he takes a slow sip of his drink.

He’s imagining something, god knows what, but it’s perverted, I know.

I glance over to the sunken lounge and the pole; I imagine him sitting there watching a naked girl writhe and dance for him, it’s too much to bear and I snap my eyes away.

Seriously…what am I doing here? He isn’t in my league. We aren’t even in the same stratosphere.

This is going to break me.

“What is it?” he asks.

“Nothing,” I say softly.

He puts his finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. “Gracie?”

My stupid eyes well with tears, betraying my bravado act.

His face falls. “What is it?”

I put my drink down on the bar. “I should…I’m going to get going.” I stand. “Have a merry Christmas.” I force a smile. “It was really…” I pause as I try to get a hold of my emotions, “…nice working for you.

He stands abruptly. “Gracie, the night is young. Don’t go.”

“I’m not a stripper, Gabriel. I’m not even a player. The last time I had sex was over a year ago, and this is….” I gesture to the room. “Isn’t…” I shrug, embarrassed that I’m not the bad girl I want to be, that my heart is already broken after one cheap fuck on his desk. “It’s not who I am. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” I rush back out to the living room with him hot on my heels.

“Gracie.”

I keep walking.

“Grace.”

“Don’t.”

“Grace.” He grabs my hand and spins me toward him. “Forgive me.” He pauses as he searches for the right words. “I shouldn’t have taken you in there…it’s been a long time since.” He pauses.

“Since what?”

“Since I’ve been with someone like you.”

Someone who stupidly loves you?

I stare at him, hating myself that I can’t forget tomorrow and be lost in the moment tonight.

He cups my face in his hands and kisses me softly, his lips linger across mine. “Don’t go.” He kisses me again. “Please?”

His demeanor has changed, somehow, he’s gone from hunter to something softer, more in tune.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

His lips linger over mine and my feet start to float from the floor.

“Tomorrow, you’re leaving me forever.”

My hands rise to his face, don’t even say that. I can’t bear the thought of never seeing him again.

“Can’t we just spend the night together to say goodbye properly?” he murmurs against my lips.

Oh…

His kiss deepens. “I’ve wanted you for so many years, Gracie. Give me one night. It’s all I ask.”

“I can’t deal with this alpha bullshit, Gabriel,” I whisper, our foreheads touching.

There’s a tenderness between us, the one we have when we are alone in the mornings at work, before the world gets in the way.

He kisses me softly. “It’s who I am, Gracie.”

“It’s not,” I whisper. “You’re in there somewhere, I know you are.” We kiss softly. “Show me the man I care about, it’s him that I want.”

He frowns as he kisses me as if internally torn, then he bends and in one sharp movement picks me up, and with his lips locked on mine, he carries me up the hallway to a large bedroom. He walks into the bathroom and carefully puts me down and turns the shower on.

When he turns back toward me, the air is electric.

Finally, he’s here.

This is him, the man that I want.

His gaze is fixed on his hands as he slowly undoes my dress, it falls open and he takes it over my shoulders and throws it to the side, his eyes linger over my body.

“Your skin,” he breathes. “It’s perfect, so peaches and cream.”

He bends and kisses me softly on the chest. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Gracie. I can hardly believe you are here with me, my love.”

My love.

My heart somersaults in my chest at his tenderness.

He slides my panties down my legs, his lips follow his hands as he drops to his knees in front of me.

I have an out-of-body experience and it feels like I’m watching us from way up above. Him kneeling before me, my heart beating out of my chest.

And the alarm bells scream all around me. Like a car crash waiting to happen.

This is bad.

Gabriel being tender and loving is a new level of dangerous.

Because unlike the alphahole that I love to hate, this version of him is…

He takes my bra off while we kiss and then undoes the buttons on his shirt. I take it off over his shoulders and am blessed with the sight of his broad muscular chest with a scattering of dark hair. I unzip his pants and he steps out of them and I slowly slide down his briefs. His large, engorged dick springs free and I bend and softly kiss him there.

Oh… Physically, he’s a beautiful man, in every way.

This is weird, I know we’ve already done it.

But it feels like the first time.

He pulls me into the shower, soaps up his hands and carefully washes my body, up over my back, down my stomach and between my legs.

The feeling of his big hands, along with the hot water, is so good, and for the first time tonight, I feel the adrenaline slowly begin to leave my body.

We kiss, long and slow. Like we have all the time in the world and damn it, why isn’t he like this all the time? A little voice from deep in my psyche says something stupid.

He’s been saving it for you.

We stay in the shower for a long time, our hands roaming over each other’s bodies. Exploring all the things we wondered about.

I look up at him and can hardly believe what I’m seeing, his dark hair hangs over his face, beautiful big brown eyes look down at me and the water is beading on his skin. “Bed,” he mouths.

“I want you,” I whisper. “God, how I want you.”

He smiles, his first genuine smile of the night, and it sends my heart free-falling from my chest.

“Not half as much as I want you.” He dries us both and leads me into his bedroom and lays me down on the bed, he spreads my legs and lies beside me. We kiss as his fingers slide through my wet flesh. “You’re so fucking creamy,” he whispers. “Waiting for my cock.”

I smile into his mouth as we kiss. My hand finds his dick, it’s rock hard and pre-ejaculate is dripping from the end.

I can’t wait any longer.

“Now,” I whimper as he rolls over me. He nudges my opening as he stares at me, a beautiful warm glow growing between us, and it’s too much.

He’s too intense, my heart can’t take it.

Fucking hard on his desk was a lot safer than this, whatever this is.

He slides home in one deep movement, and I cry out as my body ripples around him.

“Fuck…Gracie.” He moans as if pained. “So. Fucking. Good.”

We hardly move, kissing and taking our time, and fuck.

This is next level.

His body is huge, stretching me to the hilt. His lips are on mine and he stays close, holding me as he loves me.

He moans into my mouth and I feel the telling jerk of his cock as he comes.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “It’s too good.”

But I can’t focus on a word he’s saying because my own orgasm is hitting me like a freight train. My back arches from the bed as I moan into his mouth. He pumps me harder to let me work it out, and we pant against each other as we kiss.

Holy hell.

Perfection.

It’s late, later than late.

I’m lying with my leg over Gabriel’s body and he’s facing me on his side.

We’ve been at it for hours; I’ve lost count of how many times we’ve come. What started out as gentle lovemaking has turned into a rough and ready fuckfest.

I loved every single minute of it.

We are freshly showered now, and I can hardly keep my eyes open.

Gabriel’s fingers are slowly sliding through my swollen sex as he stares at me. It’s not a sexual kind of fingering, it’s a worship kind of touch. He’s feeling where his body is inside of mine.

My eyes are so heavy and they slowly close, he slides his finger inside me and I flutter my eyes back open.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he whispers. “You’re exhausted.”

My heavy eyelids close, and I feel his fingers deep inside me, his lips on my neck.

“Hmm.”

“Can I touch you while you sleep?” he whispers, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of my body. I’m so wet, my body is filled with him.

I smile sleepily. “Please,” I whisper.

I battle to keep my eyes open, to keep up with his needs, but I can’t.

Exhaustion takes over.

Dreams of Technicolor.

I’m dozing through the ecstasy. Not awake and yet not deeply asleep.

In between worlds.

Kisses and nibbles, fingers and tongue.

Gabriel’s quivering breath in my ear, whispering beautiful things in Italian.

My body being rolled one way and then the other as it fills his every craving.

Pillows underneath me.

His tongue on my behind, his soft moans as he comes deep inside my body.

Again, and again…he takes me.

He worships my body and uses it for his pleasure.

Unable to stop himself, he keeps going and going.

Taking it all.

Sleep robs me of my time with him, and I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or if this is truly happening.

But whatever it is, don’t wake me up. This is the best night of my life.

I’m in heaven.