The Anatomy of Jane (6 page)

I sighed, rubbing my shoulders. “Goodnight, Mr. Emerson.”

“I’ll give you a ride home.”

“What?”

“For being an ass, I’ll give you a ride home. You’ll save on the bus fare, and I’ll feel like less of an ass. We silver spoons like discounts too.”

He was right, and I had used all my cash getting there.

“I live in Chelsea. Is that okay?”

“It’s fine.”

“Give me to a second to grab my stuff,” I said, walking back to the room where I had changed and stuffed my clothes into my bag before coming back out.

He just stood there waiting and we walked out into the cold air. I welcomed the fresh air after that tense party.

“You need a second?” he asked me, waiting by the open door of his midnight blue 1962 Ferrari.

I grinned. “This is
your
car?”

“No, I stole it off an old lady in Worcester.” He rolled his eyes.

“I need to get myself to Worcester.” I grinned, sliding in. I ran my hand on the dashboard, looking over at him when he sat down. “I saw this in a movie once, and I told myself if I ever won the lottery this would be my first—well, second purchase.”

“After the lecture you just gave me you’d blow seven million on a car?”

I nearly had a heart attack. “Did you say seven million?”

“Six point nine, but I’d leave wiggle room for any tune-ups or replacements,” he said, casually pulling onto the road.

I frowned. I didn’t know what else to do.

“You look like a kid who found out Santa Claus isn’t real,” he said, relaxing into the cream seats.

I gasped, putting my hand to my heart. “Say what? Who have I been sending letters to at the North Pole all this time?!”

He stared at me like I was insane and then just laughed. So did I.

“I may never win the lottery, and I’ll never own this car, but at least I got this chance,” I told him.

Closing my eyes, I lifted my hand up into the air as if I were on a roller coaster. “Most of us live our whole lives without having an adventure to call our own. What is any life without the pursuit of a dream?”

Inhaling deeply, I opened my eyes when the car stopped at a light. When I looked over at him, he was staring at me, not glaring, not angry, just in awe. He looked at me with so much intensity that I shifted in my seat and looked away.

“It’s a quote from the movie—”

“
Vanilla Sky
,” he said before I could.

“Let me guess, you hated it?”

“No.” He accelerated when the light changed. “It’s actually one of my favorites.”

“Really? So many critics tore Tom Cruise apart for that movie, but I personally think it’s better than
Jerry Maguire
. The girls at my old job thought I was crazy. I’m rambling. I don’t usually ramble.”
What is up with me?
Whenever I was around Wesley or Maxwell, I suddenly started acting like fool.

He didn’t say anything for the rest of the ride, so we mostly sat in silence. When we got to my neighborhood, I noticed his car attracted a lot of unwanted attention.

Reaching for my seatbelt, I sat up. “You can drop me off at the corner. It’s not that far to walk.”

“What was the first thing?” he asked me.

“Huh?”

“You said if you won the lottery, this car would be your second purchase. What would be your first?”

“Why do you care?”

He didn’t answer.

“Fine, I’d pay off my debt and rejoice at never getting one of those statements in the mail ever again.” It was another dream out of reach though.

“I’ll pay it,” he said out the blue like it was nothing.

“Come again?”

He spun the car around, not answering.

“Hey Mr. Warbucks, my apartment is that way.” I pointed in the other direction.

“I’m taking you to my place.”

Had he lost his mind? “Yeah. Without my permission, this would be considered kidnapping.”

He pulled to a stop on the side of the road. Turning to me, his eyes were shadowy in the dark interior of his car. I wasn’t sure whether to run or call an ambulance for him. He sighed.

“My mother is running for president next year.” Another random statement where I had no clue where it had come from. “She wants her Hallmark-perfect family beside her, and it would be great if her son wasn’t bisexual.”

“Did you tell her she’d actually win the presidency if she embraced the rainbow?”

He snickered and leaned back. “It’s more than that. My family is old, white, and conservative, and so are my viewers, actually. There’s nothing wrong with that; my political views also line up that way.
Time
magazine called me ‘the young blood and soul of the New Republican Party’. I want to run for office one day, but my party isn’t ready to follow a man who enjoys fucking another man.”

“You want me to be your beard and pretend to be in a relationship with you,” I whispered, finally catching on. But how long would that last? It seemed better to just tell the truth.

“Not just a relationship. I want you to marry me.”

Chapter Three

“You asked her to marry you?” Wes said as I laid back on the bed trying to figure out how the hell I had fallen down this hole.

“I honestly don’t know what happened,” I said, resting my arm on my face. “I was just going to take her home. Thank her for her effort at Irene’s. Then we started to talk about how much she loved my car. She threw her hands up in the air, and the wind blew her hair back. She had this beautiful genuine smile across her lips, and she was so damn happy just to have the chance to ride in it. Then she quoted
Vanilla Sky
and in that second I thought…”

I felt him hovering him above me. Letting my arm drop to the side, I stared up at him. “You thought what?” He didn’t look away from me.

“I thought if you wanted her and she wanted you I wouldn’t mind. That we could all win in this. I’d get my mother off my back. You’d get rid of this fasciation you have with her, and she’d get enough money to stop working herself so hard,” I said softly, reaching up to brush back a strand of his sandy brown hair.

“You want her, too,” he said again with his arms on either side of my head. “That’s why you asked her. Even if was just once, you…”

I kissed him just to make him shut the fuck up. And even as he moaned into my mouth, I couldn’t stop thinking of her: how she arched her back against the seat of my car and how soft her pink lips looked. I remembered the first time we both heard her moan. Everything was clouding my mind and having him this close to me wasn’t helping.

So I just needed to stop thinking.

Reaching up, I pushed him back, flipping him over and pinning him below me. Gripping his neck, I glared down at him. “Stop thinking about her and start thinking more about me.”

Pushing me back, fighting in my arms, we rolled over and over on top of the bed, me on top, him on top, until Wes grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged my head back when we were both on our knees.

“I’m always thinking about you!” Wes sneered while I kissed his jaw and tugged harder. “Every fucking day you are on my mind. I can never get a damn break from you. I revolve around you! You are an addiction I can never shake so don’t make me keep repeating it!”

Fuck.

“Wes—”

“Strip. Apparently you need a physical reminder,” he commanded, releasing his grip on my hair, his eyes hard, completely serious…turning me on with every breath. “Now.”

My heart pounded against my chest as I did what he asked. Getting off the bed, I stood up and started to pull off my tie—

“Slower.” He leaned back against the pillows.

He knew I hated being put on the spot like this, but he also knew I wouldn’t disobey him when he got like this. I unbuttoned my shirt slowly for him.

He called me an addiction.

Then, who was he to me? An obsession? A sweltering passion?

When I stood in front of him naked, I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. With each second, my cock got harder and harder, twitching anxiously. He got up and walked past me, grabbing something from the drawer.

“You know what I was just thinking about?” he asked me. When he came back to stand in front of me, he answered his own question. “How good you’d look with balls in your mouth.”

Before I could speak, he lifted a ball gag to my lips. Glaring at him, I opened my mouth, both turned on as fuck and deeply frustrated.

I took a shower, hoping to relax enough to go to bed, but it only made me more aware of everything: the fact that I was naked in a million-dollar penthouse, and also the fact that I was spending the night at said penthouse and that the owner of the penthouse had asked me to marry him. I wasn’t sure where I had taken the wrong turn, but it no longer felt like my usual mundane life.

I debated the options.

“No debt,” I muttered to myself as I dried my hair. “On the other hand, marriage. A fake marriage.”

There was no way this could work.

“Ugh, I can’t.” Dropping the brush and hair dryer, I wrapped the towel around myself and stepped into the same room I’d cleaned over and over again in the last month. The king size bed with eight damn pillows was just for decoration. Another window to hand clean. The plush white carpet I vacuumed…it was now supposed to be my room. Even for just a night it was—

“Ahh…urgh… Fuck.”

Moving closer to my door, I listened but wasn’t sure what I was hearing. My mind told me to keep the door closed, but my hand didn’t seem to get the message. I opened the door a crack just to peek out, but I only saw a dim yellow light.

Stay in.

But instead I walked out by tiptoeing across the floorboards while clenching the towel to my chest. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but Maxwell with a red ball gag in his mouth, gripping the sheets as Wesley thrust into his ass was not it. I felt myself stop breathing and was awestruck at how beautiful they were. They were like wild animals as they grunted, ecstasy coating Max’s face. Just like before, his blue eyes fixed on me and yet the rage he’d had before was gone. When his mouth parted so did mine. I felt myself getting wet, and while I knew I should look away, I couldn’t—not with the way he was looking at me.

“Juahm …” Max tried to speak against the ball. Wes opened his eyes and stared straight at me as he stopped, a drop of sweat dripping from his chin onto Max’s back. He pulled out of him and Max collapsed on the bed, but Wes got off the bed and moved to the door. I stared at his cock. It was fucking huge, erect, and pointed right at me. I tried not to look, but I was human.
Damn it!
I then noticed his six-inch tattoo on his inner thigh, which read,
I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.
He smirked at me, never breaking eye contact as he slowly shut the door.

I was far too embarrassed to think straight. Turning around, I just ran.

Slamming the door closed, I fell back on it and panted.

“Jesus fuck,” I muttered, dropping the towel and rushing back into the bathroom to turn the shower on cold. My skin was on fire.

When I stepped in, I shivered, trembling under the water as it beat against me. I wanted to think of something else. For the second time now, I had intruded on their private life, and I felt like a damn pervert. It was like I was mesmerized by it…two grown men in love…two men fucking. It wasn’t any of my business. It was wrong and rude to gawk at them, and I knew that—yet I couldn’t erase the scenes from my mind.

“Stop thinking,” I muttered, putting my head directly under the stream of ice water. It was easier said than done.

The look of pleasure on Max’s face, the way the whole bed jerked forward as Wes rammed his cock into him. The way Wes walked up to the door completely naked and proud of it. The grin on his lips when he stared me down, never breaking eye contact until the door was shut completely. How do you forget about something like that?

“You don’t,” I whispered to myself, turning off the water and stepping out onto the rugs. There was no steam on the mirrors. It was just a little wet, so I could still see my body perfectly: my hair sticking to my body, water sliding down my neck and chest only to drip off my very hard nipples, thanks to the cold. “What are you doing Jane?”