Tarnished Love by Bianca Borell
FILIP
In the jet, my nerves are stretched to the maximum. She should have landed yesterday. I waited for her, but she never arrived. She’s not even picking her phone up. I could call Damien, but the chance I will lose it is still too high. Instead, I called Liam. Five minutes later, I have the name of the hotel where she’s staying. I am mad at her, this worry sneaking inside my bones I can’t shake off. This is my weakness. The flight attendant gives me a tumbler of whiskey. It will be long, torturous hours until I reach New York.
When we land, a town car waits for me. At the hotel, I give my name to the receptionist, and she hands me a key then makes sure the suite is ready. If I came all this way, we’re going to have fun too.
I slide the card into the door lock and step inside. Chloe’s curled on her side, her back to me, appearing so fragile on the bed. The image unbalances me. I rush to her and squat, caressing her pale face. Fury erupts in my core at the sight of the deep bags under her eyes. She flutters her lashes and strong emotions punch at my chest when I detect her bloodshot, glassy eyes. What happened? And who do I kill? I run a hand through my hair, this violence rising inside of me is startling.
“Filip,” she croaks and licks her cracked lips.
“What happened?” I ask, and her eyes well up. I climb in bed next to her, and she cuddles to me, the desperation of her gesture undoing me. I rock her and kiss the top of her hair.
“Shh, it’s okay.” Her soft cries hit me in the chest, and I shut my eyes, breathing through the anger simmering under my skin.
“Why don’t they love me? Am I unlovable?” she asks, tilting her head to me.
“Of course, you are lovable.”
Who the fuck told her that?
“Then why don’t my parents love me?” So, this is about them. I have no idea what is wrong with those people, but I loathe them. There is something unforgivable about parents crippling their kids like this.
“I am sorry, beautiful.” What else can I say to make this better? I don’t think any other love can compare to the one you don’t receive from your parents.
“You came.”
“I was worried sick.”
“Damien knew.”
“Why would he know, and I don’t?” My tone drops to harsh, but this mix of emotions unsettles me.
“I get like this sometimes. Whenever I don’t check out, he makes sure everything is taken care of.”
Of course, he does, and I breathe through the jealousy firing inside of me. They have been friends for years, I tell myself. She wraps her arms around me, and I stroke her back. I never wanted to console a woman before, except for Soph or my sister. But this, with her, I could get drunk on being someone she needs.
“I am sorry you worried.”
“Just let me know from now on, okay?”
She nods and whispers in my neck, “How did you find me?”
“I have my sources.”
She must be too shaken up to ask me anything further. I breathe relieved, what woman likes to know their boyfriend can find them at any time. Her breaths turn heavy with sleep, and I tuck her in. While she sleeps, I pack her bag. When she wakes, she props herself against the headboard and rubs the sleep off her face.
“What are you doing with my makeup?”
“Just curious what type of foundation you use,” I counter, putting my hands on my hips, batting my eyelashes at her. Her lips part into a shy smile, I’ll play the clown every time if it makes her feel better.
“I have a suite.”
“What is wrong with this room?” she questions, some sass returning. I have to be cautious.
“It’s for my security.” Please, let her buy it.
“Oh, okay.”
“I packed already.”
“Thank you, I guess.”
A few minutes later, her eyes wander around the suite, but when she sees the panoramic view, she rushes to the window, mouth agape.
“Wow, this is spectacular.” I amble toward her, lock my hands around her waist, and dip my chin to her shoulder. I have never felt this level of calmness, comfort, and happiness before.
“How long are we staying?”
“Three days.”
“Can we see a Broadway show?” Her face transforms in pure ecstasy at the thought, with her hands drawn together to her chest.
“Whatever you want.”
She squeals and kisses me, making me forget about the world around us. I am addicted to this with her, and it hits me why addictions are dangerous—you want more of the same feeling, because in this moment, it’s the only thing that matters. My hands travel up and down her belly, she clenches her muscles, not immune to me either. Our kiss deepens when our tongues slide against the other’s, perfect synchronization as if we have kissed for years.
We reach the edge of the bed, and, as we crash on the mattress, a certain urge mixed with lust speeds our movements. I thrust into her, while she arches her back. I suck on her nipples that point at me, two rosy wet buds. She fists my hair, her eyes turning to liquid green. I love seeing her like this, subdued to the pleasure only I offer her.
“I love to fuck you.”
“Mm-hmm,” she answers through another moan. “Make me come.”
She writhes and bucks under me while I drag the last remnants of pleasure out of her with my thumb. Three pumps later, I follow, coming inside her, filling her up with everything my body has to give. I roll next to her, our hands interlinked, smiles plastered on our faces. I want this more and more, not just the sex, the afterwards, the in-between. I missed and wanted something I never even knew what it was, but now I do. It’s intimacy, sharing with another a moment of utter sincerity. She props on her side, her fingers trailing down my chest to my belly.
“No one has ever done this for me.”
“Chloe.”
“Shut up, let me continue. Damien would have sent the jet. Anabelle would have talked to me on the phone. But neither of them would have left their jobs.”
“I will always come for you, to you. Do you hear me?” I lift her chin, a tear rolling down her face.
“You are beautiful, smart, have a career of your own. You are lovable, whoever doesn’t see that it is their loss.”
“You think so?”
“No, I know it, and you should know it too. Chloe, you can’t influence the love of others but loving yourself is what counts the most.”
“I really thought you were an entitled prick.” She sniffles and wipes at her eyes.
“And now?”
“Oh, you’re still an entitled prick, but I added some positive qualities in there too,” she says, grinning, the sassy Chloe resurfacing. If a relationship means you’re there when the other needs you, I’ll rock this whole relationship thing.
