Final Call (Call #2)(46)
Author: Emma Hart

He leans in again. “But you know about that being ready thing—”

I press my finger against his lips. “The implant has a year left, and perhaps if you don’t piss me off too much, we’ll revisit this then. So for now, tuck those little dreams back in their little box, because it is not up for discussion. Are we clear, Mr. Stone?”

“Crystal, Miss Black.” He slides his hand beneath my shorts and tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth. “Now, are you done with your requirements—uh, rules?”

“Uh, um, yep.” I breathe what passes for words as he brushes his nose down my neck.

“Good.” He stands and lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he walks in the direction of the bedroom. “Because my c**k has a requirement you need to fulfill. Right now.”

Chapter Nineteen

My house feels empty despite everything but my clothes being here. I mean, my sofa is still next to the window in the front room, and my mugs are still lined on the shelf in the kitchen, but it feels different.

Maybe it’s because I’m here alone. Where this was once my sanctuary, it’s now a building that’s almost unfamiliar. Uncomfortable.

The fact that the last time I was here was with Naomi is irrelevant.

I grab the pile of mail from behind the door and drop it on the island in the kitchen. An envelope with a handwritten address on it catches my eye.

Shivers snake their way down my spine when I pick it up, and I swallow hard. The only things I get in mail are bills and lingerie catalogs, and I don’t like what my gut feeling is telling me. It’s a shame that ignoring it won’t make it go away.

I slide my pinkie finger under the flap and pull out the piece of paper inside.

Tick tock.

I fold the note over and shove it in a drawer with a bang. Because I needed the reminder. Because I really needed a shitty little note to tell me that I have two f**king weeks to come up with a miracle.

I lean against the side and take several deep breaths, letting the tension roll off my shoulders. Bitch. Absolute bitch.

There’s nothing I want to do more now than get all my things and leave this house. I don’t want to wait for Aaron. I don’t want to sit here in this house trying to figure out what I have to do.

I don’t want to spend my time thinking about how such a beautiful love carries something so ugly.

I fill a suitcase with everything else necessary, photos, books left behind, the half-full can of hairspray sitting on my dresser. Downstairs, I fill two bags full with food and leave them on the floor by the door.

And I grab my cell. I speed-dial Monique and pace until the line clicks.

“Dayton.”

“Monique. Can we talk?”

“Unnecessary. I already know what you’re telling me, don’t I?”

I nod. Stupidly. She can’t see me. “If it’s…” I swallow, my stomach coiling, and screw my eyes shut. This is harder than it should be. “If it’s that I’m leaving you, then yes. You already know.”

“I expected you would. I’m sorry to see you go, Day.”

“I’m sorry I have to. Truly, I am.”

“But as sorry as I am, I’m much happier for you. Although you tell that man if he hurts you, I’m coming after his rich motherfucking ass and I’m going to slice off his balls.”

I laugh. “I will. Don’t worry. I promise.”

“Good. And, Dayton? If you ever need anything, even as a friend, call me.”

“Why, Monique. Are you going soft in your old age?”

“No. You and your aunt bring out the worst in me,” she laughs. “I have to go. The girls are here for the weekly meeting.”

“Tell them bye from me, will you?” I ask as something pangs in my chest.

“Of course. I’ll see you, honey.”

“See you,” I whisper, hanging up.

I close my eyes and press my hand to my stomach. I never expected leaving that world to be easy, but I never thought it would hurt either. For five years, it truly was my life. But just like a book has different chapters, life has different stages.

This, me and Aaron, is a new stage in my life. One I can fully only embrace by saying goodbye to the previous one.

Two sharp raps at the door echo through the house, and I jump. I don’t want to answer it—just in case. What if…

Aaron strolls into the kitchen and I let out the breath I was holding. Stupid woman, jumping to conclusions. Of course it’s Aaron.

“You’re back early.” I lean back as he kisses me.

“I have senior staff for a reason. All they needed was a handful of signatures on contracts after they’d been to the lawyers. Why they couldn’t wait, I’ll never know.” He looks at the suitcase and bags. “Do you have everything you need?”

I nod. “Including food.”

He smirks. “You and your food.”

“It’s a basic need.” I flatten my hands against his chest, loving the feel of the solid muscle beneath my fingertips. “I called Monique.”

“You did? Already?”

“Yep. I’m a free woman,” I whisper.

He sweeps me his arms around me and plants a hot kiss on my lips. “No, baby. You’re not a free woman. You’re my woman.”

I smile against him and kiss his cheek. “Like I have any other choice.”

“Damn right you don’t.” He releases me. “Can I ask you something about this place before we go?”

“Sure. What?”

“When my assistant came here with Liv—”

“Your assistant was here?!”

“—she said there was an extension, but it was locked and Liv wouldn’t let her in.”

I suck my bottom lip into my mouth. Would you believe I totally forgot about my extension? With everything…it just faded from my mind.

“Why is it locked?”

“I built my extension to…work in.” I hold my hands up when his eyes widen. “It’s not uncommon. Some entertain in their bedroom, but I never did.”

“Thank f**king god for that.”

“I wasn’t comfortable with it, so I had the extension built. There’re two rooms. A normal bedroom and something a little…kinkier.”

Aaron’s shock soon changes to an amused curiosity. “Kinkier?”

“Um, yes. Whips and the like.”

“You were whipped?”

I shake my head. “No. It wasn’t—it isn’t—my thing. I’m all for a bit of kink, but that doesn’t appeal to me. There were some clients who preferred it that way… Who preferred being dominated.”