Chapter 75: Chapter: 75

ANDREA

“I'm sorry, Don, did you say something?” I asked.

He looked at me, concerned. His dark brown eyes are kind and assessing.

“Have a seat and talk to me, Katie. What worries you?”

Don was the only other person apart from Beth and now Pierre who knew I would be returning home soon.

This job was a distraction from everything I want to forget. Though I'd lied to them all, I had no intention of going back to the state just yet.

I still didn't feel safe enough to go back,, and I don't know if Nicklaus had given up on looking for me.

“Nothing really, I'm leaving next week. " It's just I'm going to miss this place and everyone,” I said, a bit whimsy.

“Oh, Katie, why do you have to go back if it makes you sad? You are happy here, no? And you have friends who care about you like me. I thought you liked it here, but you're going back to America. Why?”

“Coming here was just me being adventurous, but I didn't plan on moving here. It was supposed to be a few weeks, but it's been months. Yes, I like it here, and I have wonderful friends, but it is not…not home.”

“What about him?” Don said pointedly, his eyes on Pierre, who was stealing glances at me, probably wondering what we were talking about.

“What do you mean?” I asked even though I knew what he was asking.

“He likes you, and as an old man who has lived for so many generations. I know when a man is in too deep. And that man Katie is serious about you, probably in love with you,” Don said.

“I don't feel the same, and he knows that,” I replied, wishing I could forget a certain tall, gorgeous man with the darkest blue eyes and just live happily ever after with Pierre. But wishes don't usually come true, I know that more than most.

“Is there someone back in the state?'' Don stared at me with curiosity. My heart squeezed uncomfortably.

“Not really,” I said, but Don must have seen something on my face.

“Ah! There is. Do you love this man?” he asked.

“I thought I did, love him, I mean. But now I honestly don't know,” I admit, it's something I've been trying so hard to figure out myself.

Do I love not-Nicklaus or not? Was I missing him or the sex? It really doesn't matter if I love him or not because I'm never going back to him.

The question is one of those things you simply couldn't answer even if the answers are right there in front of you.

“Don't you worry, Katie. Fate has a funny way of bringing two people it deems perfect for each other together. I'm sure the right man will find you wherever you are,” Don said reassuringly.

I smiled and got up to go back to work, and left him to have his breakfast in peace.

At the last second before I left, my eyes clashed with those of his guard. I shiver.

It was strange how the man reminded me so much of Logan, even though they have nothing in common, not in appearance or demeanor, except for the fact that both were bodyguards. And have that deadly glint in their eyes.

Just like every night after work, Pierre had insisted on walking me to the apartment, which was a few blocks away. The street twinkled with lights from the few shops open, chariots rode by, and a few other pedestrians littered the street. It was five in the evening.

My bag crossed over my chest. The weather was a bit chilly due to the rain earlier, which was why I'd pulled on my hoodie, though there was nothing I could do about my legs.

Pierre hasn't said anything since I told him I was leaving. I felt bad, like I had hurt him.

The silence between us as we walked was filled with tension. I never intended to hurt anyone when I left New York two weeks after I uncovered imposter-Nicklaus ' secret.

All I'd wanted at the time was to hide and heal from all the emotional pain I'd suffered. But here I was with a man who had done nothing but be a good friend to me, and I was hurting him with my rejection.

I turned to explain all the reasons why a relationship between us wouldn't work. “Pierre I…”

“Katie, I kno…” we said at the same time, he chuckled. I smiled.

“You go first.”

“No, you first,” I argue.

“I know you are afraid of getting hurt. I don't need to be a mind reader to know that someone has hurt you, maybe an ex. I also know you don't feel for me as I do for you, but I know deep inside that if you give us a chance, we could be explosive together.. I really believe that. Chérie, s'il te plaît, donne-moi une chance," he ended in French, covering the distance between us.

“All I need is for you to give me a chance,” he translates, his eyes straying to my mouth. He licks his lips. Suddenly, before I could stop him, he bent his head and kissed me.

I startled and tried to pull back, but Pierre added pressure to his kiss, his hands holding my face to his.

For a split second, I contemplated kissing him back. Maybe he could help me heal? Maybe he could help me forget? Maybe, just maybe, I could fall for him?

With that thought in mind, I opened my mouth for him and tentatively kissed him back. When he swiped his tongue inside hungrily, my heart sank. Wrong!

Everything was wrong: his natural scent, his cologne, his height. The way his hands held my face, his tongue in my mouth, everything was just so wrong, but more than that. I feel…nothing! No fluttering in my stomach, none at all.

Even though you could tell Pierre was a very good kisser, though it was pleasant, it certainly wasn't that toe-curling, mind-scrambling, explosive kiss I was used to.

There's no chemistry at all, at least on my part. Pierre, on the other hand, groaned in pleasure and tried to pull me even closer to his lean body, I pushed him hard, yanking my lips from his.

“Why did you do that?” I asked, glaring at him, feeling like shit, like I had cheated on my boyfriend, which was stupid considering I have no boyfriend. He looked at me with heated eyes, his cheeks flushed.

“I'm sorry, Katie, I couldn't help myself. I just had to kiss you.” He paused then shook his head. “No, you know what? I'm not really sorry, I've been imagining how it would feel when I kiss you, and the real thing is better than my imagination,” he confessed unrepentantly. I glared at him.

We were still standing on the road, staring at each other. I didn't know what to say to him, so I said nothing.

I just turned around and walked a few hundred steps, then entered the apartment building. I have so many conflicting feelings that I didn't know what to do with them.

I was mad that he kissed me without my permission, disappointed that I didn't feel anything, and pissed at Nicklaus, who wasn't even here. I heard his steps behind me, but I didn't slow down as I climbed up the stairs.

“Sweet dreams, Katherine,” Pierre called out.

Wrong! Everything is wrong, I'm no Katherine.

Firm but soft lips pepper kisses all over my neck and shoulder, rough big hand palmed my breasts, first one then the other, before pinching and rolling my jutting nipples. I gasped and moaned, pushing and rubbing my ass against the hard, heavy bulge digging into me from behind.

His cock was hot, silky, and at the same time very hard. I know how good that cock feels inside me, how wide it stretches me, and how full it makes me, I whimpered. I wanted it so bad. Needed it, now.

“Open for me, Vixen. Let me see how wet you are for me,” Nicklaus growled, his voice low and deep in my ears, making me shiver. He licked the shell of my ear with his tongue, then he bit my earlobe lightly.

I gasped, trembling, my legs widened to obey him. We were both lying on our sides. His hand trails down my quivering stomach and between my thighs, parting my wet folds, then he thrusts two long fingers inside.

“Fuck! Andrea, you're soaked, pinch your nipples for me, Vixen.” I cup my breast with my hand much as he did a moment ago and began to tug and pull my nipples, gasping and moaning. His thrust became faster, deeper. I was so close.

Something crashed to the ground. The sound was too loud in the apartment, which startled me awake. My eyes sprang open, only to find my fingers deep inside my wet sex, my other hand on my breast, again.

Everything had been a dream, not for the first time, I felt like screaming the injustice of it.

Having wet dreams of a devil and not being able to come every time is seriously messed up. A single tear of frustration slid down my temple. Nicklaus, that demon, is rubbing me of my sleep and peace of mind. I pull out my fingers from my shorts and get out of bed. So I could wash off.

That sound that woke me up came again, loud and unmistakable, banging and creaking. Making my heartbeat pound in my chest, my eyes instantly fell to the rolling pin on the bed I always go to bed with.

I picked it up, carried my new phone, and put it inside my pocket just in case I needed to call the police.

I don't know who the fuck was inside the apartment, nor do I want to. The fact that the burglar decided to come over in the dead of night and had gotten inside is a red flag for me.