“Good evening, George. How have you been?”
“Good, sir. It’s been a while. Nice to see you.”
Alex nodded. Yes, it had been a while. At least a month since he’d been there. “You, too.”
He straightened his suit jacket and pulled on the cuffs of both of his sleeves as he watched the lights in the elevator climb to the eleventh floor of the upscale apartment building.
He’d met Whitney through his sister two years ago, and after several phone calls and a couple of obvious occasions where she’d dropped by his office, he’d finally asked her out to dinner. Alex shook his head, remembering. He should have his head examined for being so easily called into play. She had a great body and the sex had been good, but they had nothing of real substance to talk about. Whitney worked at an art gallery downtown and was constantly trying to get Alex to purchase some god-awful piece from whoever her newest client was. One of the closets in his spare bedroom was shoved full of the damn things.
Alex ran a hand over the back of his neck as he approached the door and sighed heavily. For what he hoped would be the last time, he took out his key and put it in the lock. As he pushed the large oak door open, he heard music coming from the bedroom. A lone light in the hall cast an eerie glow into the living and dining rooms. The apartment was small but very expensive, and he’d shelled out loads of money on the furnishings that Whitney wanted. Alex glanced around and quickly moved across the room to the bar, taking off his black Armani suit jacket, and loosening his green silk tie as he went.
He pulled out a glass and added ice and two fingers of scotch before he heard Whitney behind him.
“Well, well… to what do I owe this honor?” she asked snidely.
Alex’s mouth tightened. He had no time or inclination to play games. “You asked me to show up. I’m here.” He glanced over his shoulder before he slammed his drink and picked up the scotch bottle to refill it. “Or was that message meant for someone else?” He laughed coldly. “The closing led me to believe it was for me, and if you’re expecting me to play nice, your greeting was sorely lacking.” Alex was numb. Not uncomfortable, not nervous, not… moved. He just didn’t give a fuck.
He tensed when she came up behind him and started to slide her hands around his waist. Considering her pissy demeanor, this wasn’t what he was expecting, but her nearness did nothing for him as she molded herself against his back.
“What is it you wanted?” His voice was flat as he twisted out of her hold and moved to a chair in front of the big glass window in the living room. The lights of downtown Chicago flickered as he sank down into its softness. Alex’s mind raced with what to do about an almost unbearable situation. He itched to get the fuck out of there and never deal with this shit again. Or, it could be just like the hundred other nights he’d spent in this apartment. A few drinks, they’d fuck, and then… nothing. He’d get up and leave and that would be the end of it… but tonight, he wanted it to be the end. For good.
She followed him and knelt down behind the chair.
“Whitney. Answer the goddamned question. What—do—you—want?”
She reached around and ran a hand down his chest, turning her head and pulling his earlobe into her mouth and raking it with her teeth, trying to get a reaction out of him. If he closed his eyes, he could let it happen, but did he really want to? He pulled away just enough for her mouth to leave his skin.
“So, you want to fuck?” Alex asked bluntly over his shoulder. His tone was sour and it sounded harsh, even to his own ears. He felt dead inside, indifferent. He could take it or leave it.
She froze. “No. I want you to give a shit about me. I want you to stop fucking around with your friends,” she said harshly.
“We’ve been over this countless times. The conversation is getting old.” He lifted her hand off of his body and flung it aside, and she gasped in response.
Her voice turned sickeningly sweet as she changed her tack, and her hands returned to his chest again. “Alex, I want you to make love to me…” she purred, as she started to pull his tie completely undone and open a couple of the buttons on his white shirt. His hand came up to cover hers and stop her movement. He stood up, effectively breaking the contact and took a few steps toward the window, away from her.
“When have we ever made love? We fuck,” he dismissed.
She gasped, a shocked expression flashing across her face. “Do you have to be such a bastard?” she rasped out loudly. “You think because you’re rich and good-looking, you can treat me like trash? You’re such a prick!”
He turned and looked at her for the first time. She was dressed in some outrageously expensive lingerie with ridiculous feather trim on the robe that hung open to reveal only lace panties and a matching bra underneath. His eyes traveled down her body indifferently, and he took another sip from his glass. Her body was beautiful—there was no denying that—with voluptuous curves in all the right places. Except for those silicone tits that she’d insisted on getting last year. They’d cost him thousands and he couldn’t care less. Alex watched her with his eyes, but his fingers and lips wanted soft, warm, and real. Not hard, plastic, and fake. Maybe he was getting old, like his mother had warned him about. He shook off the thought as quickly as it came. He needed to get this shit out of the way.
“How am I a bastard?” he asked flatly, waving his hand casually around at the elegantly furnished apartment. “You have everything you need. I told you in the beginning that this was a physical relationship for me. That’s what fits into my lifestyle. You agreed. I never lied to you about my intentions, and nothing has changed. I still don’t want more than that. But lately, even sex… It’s like fucking a Barbie doll. If I wanted a blow-up doll, I’m sure they’re a hell of a lot less expensive than what you managed to suck out of me every month.” He was cold; he knew it and he didn’t care.
Her blue eyes hardened, and she scowled at him. “It’s the least you can do, you lousy bastard.” Her voice finally broke on the words, and Alex felt a twinge of regret despite himself. “After all this time, don’t you care for me at all?”
“Not in the way you want. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I want you to be safe and happy, but I’m certainly not in love with you, Whitney. I’m not sure I’m even capable of those types of feelings. I won’t apologize for being the way I told you I’d be.”
She huffed, and her eyes welled with angry tears at the cold tone in his voice. “I don’t believe you, Alex. You show up here maybe once or twice a month for sex and that’s it?”
“No, that’s not it. We do things. I take you places and on trips… it’s known in my circle that you and I are together. I don’t treat you like a whore. What the fuck do you want from me?” Alex said shortly. He felt suffocated, caustic… like a caged animal that wanted freedom.
“More,” Whitney said, simply.
Alex sighed. There just wasn’t more.
“I’m very busy running the company, and I don’t want or need romantic bullshit!” Alex’s voice took on a harsher tone. “Shit, half of the time I’m not even in town, for Christ’s sake! I’m not going to argue about this, and I don’t feel the need to repeat myself. This is how it is! Take it or leave it.”
Fuck! Did I just give her a choice? He wanted to kick his own ass.
She put her hand over her mouth and turned away. “Is there something that you need from me, that I don’t give you, Alex?” Her voice was smarmy and evil sounding. “Don’t I make you come hard enough? Isn’t my pussy tight enough or my tits big enough?”
He sucked in a deep breath. There were many things he could add, but he wasn’t going to add insult to injury. “Shut the hell up! You sound like trash when you talk that way! It isn’t that complicated! It just doesn’t feel right anymore! For either of us. Just see it for what it is.”