Cherry Popper Page 4
Monroe turned down my money and left the hotel room without looking back. Her throat felt nice around my dick, and that kiss was exquisite. I didn’t kiss women very often, only if they made the move first, and even then, I didn’t enjoy it much.
But I liked kissing Monroe.
She had the softest lips, the perfect amount of hesitation and determination. Her hands moved to her chest as she enjoyed me, as she immediately forgot how much she hated me. The lust beat out her logic, and she came back to the bed with hungry hands.
But when the good stuff was about to start, she bailed.
Her dislike outweighed her need for money.
She despised me that much.
I understood I was an asshole. I understood I was unbearable at times. But it didn’t seem like the other women cared that much.
But she definitely cared.
It was more than she could handle.
I WAS SITTING in my office when Max walked inside. “I’ve got some new takers.” He placed the folder on the table. “They all check out.”
I didn’t pick up the folder. Instead, I stared at my computer screen like he wasn’t even there.
“How did it go with Monroe? She seems feisty.”
“Very,” I answered. “But it didn’t go. She bailed.”
“Really?” he asked. “She’s more than $600,000 in debt, but she left?”
I nodded. “She’s not my biggest fan.”
“Well, not many people are,” he said with a grin. “So, let me know which of my girls you like. They’re all over twenty-one—as you requested.”
If they weren’t legal to drink, then they were too young for me. “I’ll get back to you.”
Max slid his hands into his pockets as he stood at my desk. “Everything alright, sir?”
“She’s the first woman to walk out on me.” I turned in my chair to face him, the rejection starting to sting. She’d turned down me and the cash because she didn’t see a reason to stay. I shouldn’t care, but I did.
“She’s different. Don’t worry about her.”
“Maybe that’s why I like her…because she’s different.”
“Do you want me to reach out to her again? See if I can change her mind?”
I wouldn’t send my dog to fetch her. Not for something like this. “No. I’ll take care of it.”
I HAD HER INFORMATION, so finding her address was simple enough. She lived on the opposite side of town from my penthouse, so she had to take two different subway routes just to make it to work. But I’m sure her location was based on what she could afford—which wasn’t much.
The other women didn’t come to me because they were in extreme debt. Most of them just wanted the cash to buy a new car or put a down payment on an apartment. Some of them just wanted to go on a trip of a lifetime. For them, it wasn’t a matter of survival. But for Monroe, it certainly was. She’d managed to dig herself into a black hole, something even light couldn’t escape from. She had no options, but she was still too proud to give herself away.
I admired it.
Even though it annoyed me.
I showed up at her apartment at close to seven in the evening. I knew she got off work at five and then rode the subway for almost an hour before she made it home. My guy told me she lived alone, so that made this easier.
I knocked on her door and stepped back so she could see my face through the peephole.
A few locks turned, and then she opened the door.
She stared at me in horror, like I was the very last person she ever wanted to see. Her hair was straight around her shoulders, and she wore a maroon dress with a black belt around her waist. Her shoes were gone because she’d probably kicked them off the second she got off work. Her hand gripped the door as she studied me, trying to decide if I was real or this was just a nightmare.
I was in my suit and tie because I didn’t bother changing at my penthouse before I came over here. I’d replayed our last interaction in my mind so many times that it was all I could think about. Stopping to change would have taken too much time, not when I was desperate to see her face-to-face. “Can I come inside? Or are you always this rude?”
Her shocked expression quickly hardened into an offended one. “Not as rude as you.”
I crossed the threshold and invited myself inside. I moved my body into her apartment, forcing her to step back and give me more space to enter her living room. I didn’t have high expectations for her living situation, so I wasn’t surprised to see the single couch and small table comprise her living room, along with a small TV. Her kitchen was only a few feet wide, there wasn’t a dining table, and there was a door that connected to her bedroom. It had to be a few hundred square feet at the most.
I could hear the sirens audibly, along with her neighbors fighting next door. It sounded like a married couple with a crying baby. The more they fought, the harder the baby cried. The walls seemed to be paper-thin.
“How can I help you?” She shut the door behind her and held as much pride as she could, considering the yelling next door kept increasing in volume. “I would offer you a drink, but I only have water—on tap.”
“No thanks.” I felt like an asshole standing there in a suit that cost me $10,000. It was probably what she paid in taxes over the course of a year.
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked visibly uncomfortable, like having me in her space made her stomach churn. She was probably thinking about that night in detail, from the way I kissed her softly then fucked her throat.
I knew I was thinking about it.
“Why are you here, Slate?” she asked. “If you’re mad at me because of the other night, I won’t apologize for it.”
“I didn’t expect you to.” She’d wasted my time when another woman wouldn’t. I had a dozen girls who would have killed to take her place. I could have spent the evening fucking them instead of watching her tease me then storm off.
“Then what do you want? To pay you back for the dinner we had the other night?”
My eyebrows immediately furrowed at the suggestion. I might be an asshole, but I wasn’t that petty. “No.”
“To yell at me for leaving?”
“No.”
She crossed her arms over her waist and glanced at my chest, like direct eye contact was too intimate. Her dress fit her snugly around the waist, her petite frame noticeable in the tight clothing. She had a perfect hourglass frame, which was gorgeous in the lingerie ensemble she’d worn that night. But she could wear a garbage bag and still steal focus. “Then why are you here?”
“To change your mind.” My hands rested in the pockets of my slacks, and I felt my attraction to her grow. No one else could interest me enough to hunt them down like this. There were plenty of other women to take her slot, beautiful women who looked forward to giving themselves to me. I didn’t need to waste my time here, but I’d been thinking about her since the moment she walked out on me. I’d jerked off onto her panties because I was so hard up.
She stiffened noticeably, as if the suggestion was unwelcome. “I thought I could do it, but I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“Then let me rephrase it. I don’t want to.” The more she resisted me, the more beautiful she became. Her naïve morals were a sharp intake of fresh air. Nobody cared about anything anymore, but she preserved her innocence like it meant something.
I stepped toward her, noting the way she didn’t step back. My presence slowly came into contact with hers, slowly invaded her personal space. I stopped when our faces were dangerously close, close enough to imply that we were lovers. When she didn’t move away, I knew she was still attracted to me, that the kiss we’d shared was one of the pleasant memories she had of me.
She held my gaze with all the courage she could muster, but her slight hint of anxiety told me this was hard for her, that she was intimidated by me like everyone else in the world. But she had the strength to at least fight me rather than submit.
Now that I�
��d tested the waters and felt how warm they were, my hand slid to her cheek, and I brought our faces close together. That kiss we shared had been on my mind, along with that little white thong she left behind. The kiss had been passionate and slow, the kind of kiss I hadn’t shared with a lover in so long. My thumb brushed across her bottom lip before I leaned in and kissed her.
My lips lightly rested against hers, testing her resolve. Which was stronger? Her attraction or her dislike? When she didn’t push me away, I felt her lips like last time, gently massaging them with my own. So soft and smooth, they tasted like cherry lip balm. I breathed into her mouth before I kept kissing her, feeling my entire body stiffen and tighten. Warmth flooded my veins just the way alcohol peaked in my blood after a few drinks. Her lips were hesitant, like she knew this was wrong, and the fact that she kept kissing me only made it better. I liked her strength but also her vulnerability. She tried to protect herself from me, but I wasn’t the kind of man you could hide from.
Just when my hand moved into her hair and I gripped her waist, she pulled her delicious lips away and bowed her head. I felt her slip from my grasp, her petite waist fleeing my fingertips.
She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest, like that would somehow keep me away. “If you came here to seduce me, it won’t work.”
“I just wanted to kiss you. Harmless.”
She touched her bottom lip like I’d bit her. “I don’t know if I would describe it as harmless.”
“You liked it.”
“That’s exactly the problem.” She looked at the ground for a moment before she raised her gaze to meet mine. “You should go.”
That kiss only made me want her more, and I wouldn’t walk away without a fight. “Let’s get some dinner together.” Maybe being out of her apartment would make her more comfortable. I didn’t come here so I could quickly fuck her on her couch. “And talk.”
“I said you won’t change my mind.”
“Then a dinner won’t hurt, right? I’m asking for a meal, not your virginity.”
“Actually, you are.”
I shrugged. “Well, I’m not asking for it right away. Come on, my treat.” For someone like her, a meal out must be a deathblow to her bank account. I’d been wealthy for a long time, so I never had to worry about the cost of anything. I just got what I wanted—even if I didn’t really need it. There was no such thing as a budget. “Or we could stand here all night until our knees start to hurt.”
My humor seemed to calm her down, because she smiled. “Alright. But I’m only agreeing because I’m starving.”
WE WENT to a deli around the corner because it was the closest thing to walk to. I’d never eaten there or heard of it, but it seemed like she’d visited the place a few times. She knew exactly what she wanted the second she stepped inside. We both ordered our food then carried our trays to a booth in the corner. It was a quiet night, so we pretty much had the entire place to ourselves.
It wasn’t the most romantic setting, but maybe that was a good thing.
Like the last time we had a meal together, she ate everything, but she did it slowly, like she was trying to make it last.
“Are you always this hungry?” I asked, only taking a few bites of my sandwich because it was way too many carbs.
“Yes.” She opened her bag of chips and popped a few into her mouth. “Do you always eat just a portion of your food?”
“Yes. At least when it’s bread.”
“I guess that makes sense. You wouldn’t have an eight-pack if you ate whatever you wanted all the time.”
“You like my eight-pack?” I asked, noting the praise in her voice.
“That’s not a fair question. Every woman likes a solid eight-pack.”
“Not necessarily. Men can have eight-packs because they have no fat. I have no fat, but I also have a lot of muscle.”
She popped another chip into her mouth. “So that’s what we’re going to talk about tonight? Objectifying your body?”
“Hey, you brought it up.”
“Not really.”
I rested my arm over the back of the booth as I stared at her, her beautiful face far too stunning for a joint like this. Her apartment annoyed me because she deserved better. But at least she didn’t have any roommates.
“Where do you live?”
I raised an eyebrow at the question.
“So you can arrive at my doorstep without warning, but I can’t ask where you live?” she asked incredulously.
“I live in Manhattan—close to work.”
“So in a penthouse at the top of a skyscraper.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I’m going with maybe.” She kept eating. “I’m surprised you’re here. You said you have a long list of women who would love your attention for the night. I can’t imagine why you’re here, picking at a sandwich with a woman who can barely tolerate you.”
“Barely tolerate? You tolerated me just fine during that kiss.”
“That kiss didn’t mean anything. It was just a kiss—”
“That you enjoyed.”
“So? I enjoyed your dick in my mouth, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it again.”
The air left my lungs at the casual way she said those words. She clearly possessed the innocence of someone inexperienced, but she also had the confidence of a woman who could do anything.
It took me a few seconds to respond because I couldn’t get the image out of my head. If I thought about it too long, I could feel that perfect tongue against the bottom of my shaft. I gripped the back of her head and fucked her mouth like it was a toy rather than part of a person. Despite it being her first time, I certainly wasn’t delicate, but I was never delicate. It was my fantasy—not hers. “I’d like to do that again.”
“Not gonna happen,” she shot back.
Her denial only made me want her more. “I’d like you to reconsider.”
“No.” With unbreakable steel in her eyes, she held my gaze without flinching. “It was hard to walk away from that money. It would have helped me out immensely. But I felt so degraded, so objectified. I don’t expect to have the man of my dreams peel off my wedding dress before he makes love to me for the first time…but I didn’t want my first time to be like that. I wanted it to mean something.”
For a twenty-three-year-old, she had high expectations for something people tried to give away as soon as possible. Her self-respect for her virtue only made me want her more, because it had so much more value. “If it makes the rest of your life easier, that’s all that matters. You aren’t going to look back on that memory with regret. You’re going to have more money in your pocket for the things that matter.”
She shook her head slightly. “I don’t understand. You’re trying to convince me to change my mind, but another woman can replace me at the snap of a finger. She could meet you at your hotel in the next hour. So what are you doing?”
It was a great question. “I want you.” It was the simplest, easiest answer.
Her eyes flicked down for a moment, like she couldn’t handle the abrupt response. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I just do.” She was beautiful, but so were a lot of women. On the surface, there was nothing extraordinary about her. But underneath those looks was a special woman, a kind of person I’d never met before, someone who still thought the little things in life mattered. “And I think you’d be better off. You aren’t going to find Mr. Perfect to sweep you off your feet and take your virginity in the most romantic way possible. At this age, any decent man wouldn’t want to deal with that. And then the other dogs will just want to fuck you because you’re a virgin.”
“Like you?” she countered.
“Yes. But at least I know what I’m doing. And I’ll fairly compensate you for it.”
“Compensate me?” she asked with a laugh. “I feel like I’m selling eggs or cookies or something…”
It didn’t seem like anything I said would change her mind. “You’
re attracted to me. You enjoy kissing me. Apparently, you enjoy having my dick in your mouth… So, why not?”
“Because you’re an asshole.” She stopped eating her chips and looked me dead in the eye. “You told me to shut up. You grabbed my head and fucked my mouth like I was a sex toy instead of a human being. It was so…robotic. It wasn’t passionate or hot. It was just… I felt like a body. I never felt like a person.”
That was exactly how I liked it, empty and meaningless. I liked taking a woman’s virginity the way I fucked a whore. It was all about sex, all about getting off and feeling her tightness. I made them come because I was a natural at it, but it certainly wasn’t romantic.
“No amount of money is worth being treated like that. I felt like a whore.”
Because she was—an innocent whore.
“So, forget about me and find someone else who will be happy to do it.”
She kissed me like she enjoyed it, so it made me wonder if I could have her if I treated her right. Maybe if I just asked her out on a date and bought her flowers, I could finally get what I wanted. But that seemed like too much work for a one-time fuck. “I’ll make it $200,000.”
She stared at me blankly, like she didn’t understand a word I said.
“I’ll double the payment if you reconsider.” Regardless of how moral she was, that had to tempt her. That was a lot of money, even for a moderately wealthy person. She could remove a third of her debt. “That could wipe out all of your student loans. You would only be left with the medical expenses.”
When she didn’t turn me down right away, I knew she was considering it.
I waited patiently for her to give me an answer, to tell me that was a fair price for her cherry. It was more than what I paid anyone else, but I knew it would be worth it.
That hatred entered her gaze. “You’re an even bigger asshole than I thought. For a rich jerk like you, this is all a game. You buy whatever you want because you have so much money that it means nothing, but for people like me, I suffer every day because I didn’t have a silver spoon in my mouth. Now you throw more money at me because you can, because you know I have no other option. You want my virginity because you get off on it, not caring if I have to sell my soul so you can have it. Instead of being a good person who helps someone in need, you use their struggle to your advantage. It’s fucking despicable.” She grabbed her purse and slipped out of the booth. “Fuck off, Slate Remington. Your money is no good here.”