Don't judge me.
I tried to get over her. I tried to fuck and play with other women. I even forced myself away from her for weeks, but it never worked. Faking every fuck I had left me feeling ashamed and angry with myself. After sex, I felt like a giant pussy. I knew it boiled down to Jennifer. I was weak for her, and until I had her, nothing would quench my thirst. Her virginity was mine for the taking.
Fuck my little brother, Luke. He was in over his head when he went for Jennifer, and I wouldn't have it. She was an Elite. Love was prohibited, but when I saw the way she looked at him like she had once looked at me, I couldn't handle it. I had to know it wasn't real and that Luke was just an assignment. I couldn't stand the thought of him fucking her senseless and wearing her on his arm like a trophy, one that he paid for. I may be a bastard, but I don't like having my nose rubbed in my own shit.
Chemistry between two people cannot be created. I experienced fatal attraction the first time I laid eyes on her in the lobby of the Bellagio while I was out recruiting for the Elite. I felt like a predator, like an asshole, for barging in on her bathing. But the manager wanted to fuck me, so she willingly gave me anything I wanted, even the key to Jennifer's room. I didn't know what I would do when I entered, but I had to find out. Sometimes Lady Luck got drunk with lust and became a crazy bitch.
Body propped back, perfect perky tits, and an amazing body waited for me in the bathtub, and if I wouldn't have been so shocked by her nakedness, I may have asked her on a date. But her aim with that damn shampoo bottle was impeccable. I didn't expect a firecracker behind that womanly figure. Texans. Afterwards, I contemplated knocking on her door and fessing up. I imagined telling her how I was immediately attracted to her, but I what kind of creepy fuck would I have looked like? Instead, I paid for her room and wine, played it off as a mistake, wrote her an apology letter before the guilt consumed me, and then got the hell out of there.
A little piece of me died inside when she signed the official contract. Jesse would always find a way to be a cock-block, and to make sure everything was legal. But Jennifer was different. Not some whore that I would fuck and leave. The intentions were never to sell her, or give her away, but to learn more about her wants, sexual desires, and to see if there were sparks.
She needed a job. She was a risk taker.
The Elite was the bait, and when she hooked on, I reeled her in.
I tried to push her away by being an asshole.
But it was never enough.
I found myself running back to her.
Dreaming of her. Wanting every bit of her.
She made me fucking crazy.
The look on her face when I gave her the pleasure of her first orgasm made me want to scoop her in my arms and kiss her, and tell her how fucking beautiful she was. She wanted to be fucked... several times, mind you, and I wanted to fuck her, but no matter how much of a dick I was in the past, I couldn't be the present day man who stole something so precious. I wanted her to make the choice to give herself to me and be sure it was the right one. I didn't want to be a random fuck in the heat of the moment. Funny isn't?
Truth be known, I was fucking scared. Scared to be with her because it became too personal, and I was afraid to lose myself.
I knew in the basement—when she said she wanted me to feel the way she did—that I would have to void the contract, and tell her it was a mistake. But it became too serious. It all happened too fast, and I was in too deep. I couldn't stop with the fucking mind games that continued to spin out of control. It became a way for me to be around her, to demand her to do what I said, and for me to know that she wanted me even though I had to push her away each time. Just like the asshole she thought I was, I needed my ego stroked as much as my cock. The last few months, I discovered how far she would go, how many games she would play to get with me and then over me. The games, the endless cycle of fucking games. Somehow I got lost in them with her. We were tangled in the same web, neither one able to break free or even wanting to.
She became my drug, and I constantly needed my fix. So many times I wanted to lay her down and fuck her the way she wanted, and then whisper dirty things in her ear as I made her come, and then fuck her again. But each time, I pulled away. But still I needed to know I was the man she dreamed about at night. I needed to know that when she pleasured herself, my face was the one she saw. Tonight, I knew.
Jennifer Downs, the virgin that stayed, was the only woman that could bring me to my knees with a single look. She was a strong lioness that constantly attacked me with her beauty and smarts, and bitchy attitude. The only woman that made me feel since the loss of my wife. The only person who validated that love still existed in my world.
Lying there with her, pleasuring her, becoming one with her completed me, and I knew that I couldn't live without her. At that moment, denying I had fallen in love with her wasn't an option. Not once she poured herself into me, gave me every piece of her body and soul, and mixed with mine.
Although love is precious and love is kind, it is still forbidden if you are an Elite.
Firing Jennifer Downs was my only option.
Options: we had those now.