Billionaire Daredevil In Love

CLAYTON.

Sex with Nadine was great that night when she seduced me, ecstatic even, but with Natasha it was different. Natasha and I had been together for years; we had an undeniable chemistry between the both of us that lent an intensity to our love making, something I could never get in anyone else.

“Ahh, yes, baby,” I said as she undid my zip, wriggled my penis out and slipped into the warmth of her mouth, sucking it, slurping on it, a fiery look in her eyes as she did. I stroked her head as she did. For a fleeting moment as she fellated me, I wished I had married her instead of Nadine. She rose from her haunches, met my face and kissed me.

“I love you so much, Natasha,” I said.

“No, you don’t,” she replied. She smiled sadly, so sad it made me pity her.

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“If you did,” she said, “it would have been me that you would have married, not Nadine.”

I closed my eyes for a moment.

“I made a mistake, Natasha,” I said. “You have to understand. My marriage with Nadine is contractual.”

“It doesn’t matter what it is, Clayton,” she said, “some mistakes can not be corrected; some wrongs simply cannot be righted.”

She continued to kiss me. When I slid into her later, it felt like heaven, but not only that, it felt like the right thing to do. We orgasmed within seconds of each other, me first, then she, quaking gently in my arms. After we lay on the bed in silence, cuddled in each other’s arms.

“Ohh, shit,” Natasha said softly. “It just occurred to me.”

“What, baby?” I asked.

“Your birthday,” she said as she turned to face me, her breath warming my face, “it’s in a week’s time.”

“Ahh, I forgot about that,” I said.

I had been so preoccupied with work, and with the maelstrom of my relationships that I had completely forgotten about the forthcoming anniversary of my birth. I would be turning thirty three, a milestone, something to be celebrated at the very least.

“So,” Natasha said, stroking my chin, “what are you going to do this time to celebrate?”

I did not have a party for my thirty second birthday celebration, because I didn’t think it important; a small get together that had my immediate family and a few friends sufficed. But this time, I intended to go all out and have a big party.

“I’ll have a party,” I said to her. “A big fucking party. One of the biggest parties this city has ever known.”

“Of course, that’ll be nice,” Natasha said with a smile.

I got off the bed and mentally began to make plans. Of course, Trent would be involved, but not fully, because I wanted him to stay out of the spotlight for a while due to his recent restaurant debacle. My mom would also play a role, which would be easier since she was around. Natasha, too. Maybe Nadine.

“The party of the fucking year,” I thought aloud.

Nadine:

I screamed for the nurses. The shock of Naomi’s death had made Anna lose consciousness, I knew that, but that thought did nothing to allay my fears.

“What happened?” The nurse asked as she raced into the ward.

“She passed out,” I said.

Immediately, I regretted telling Anna about Naomi’s death. I should have kept it to myself, perhaps concocted a lie that I would keep telling until she was fully recovered and better suited to take. But that would not have felt right. The nurse led me out of the ward into the hallway and tried to resuscitate my sister.

“No, no, no,” I said as I walked to the bathroom. I turned on the faucet and washed my hands. I looked at my face in the mirror; I looked at least five years older, with my eyes puffed up from crying, and my hair matted from neglect.

“Fuck him,” I said as I thought about Trent. “Fucking bastard.”Original content from NôvelDrama.Org.

I washed my eyes and returned. When I went close to the ward, I saw one nurse leaving.

“How is my sister?” I asked.

“Ohh, she’s fine,” she said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You can go see her now, but allow her to have her rest; she needs it as much as she can get, okay?”

Grateful, I nodded, feeling a tear slide down my face. If anything had happened to Anna because of what I told her, I would have never forgiven myself

I walked into the room and the last nurse walked out. Anna was sitting up, her back against the wall, a doleful look on her face. I felt an overwhelming sadness. Sure, Naomi was my friend, but Anna had bonded with her at a very critical stage of her life – while she was between life and death.

“Anna?” I said. “Are you okay?”

She turned to me, sniffling. “It’s true? Naomi is … dead?”

I nodded and sat beside her.

“Why?!?!” Anna said, burying her face in her palms, sobbing so much that it made me start to cry too.

“I don’t know, Anna,” I replied. “I don’t know. Some of us don’t have it easy in life, some of us have to go through the worst, have to wade through the mud. I know it’s hard, but the only option we have left to us is to keep leaving while keeping Naomi’s memory alive in our heart. She was a good person, a pure soul, and she did not deserve to die. Naomi was more than a friend, she was a sister to the both of us. She’s dead now and there’s nothing we can do about it. We just have to keep living.”

I was talking to Anna, but I was also speaking to myself.

Anna reached out to me, hugged me and buried her face in my neck. Her sobs quieted down.