BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part 3 (6 page)

It seemed like Derek was healthy more than he was sick, which was really strange from everything that I read in regards to cancer patients.

There were times that I really couldn’t believe he was sick, actually.

He ran, jumped, worked consistently, had sex, and basically acted completely normal.

But then, other times, that ideology quickly changed.

And even though they were rare, they were terrible.

So terrible that I questioned if I could even handle it much longer; if I could be the rock that he needed me to be.

One day, his frail body crumpled over and he collapsed to the floor, shaking violently, as bouts of vomit spewed from his shivering mouth.

I couldn’t move. I was frozen, like stone, as I watched in horror.

His poor body shook with every breath and with every breath more vomit spewed from him. He groaned out in a pitiful fit of exhaustion, and I looked to him in desperation, as I stood there, completely helpless.

“Go….” was all I heard through the sounds of vomiting, and I knew that he was telling me to leave.

But I wouldn’t listen.

Instead, it had the opposite effect on me.

Instead of prompting me to leave, it actually gave me the courage that I needed to move towards him and lift his pitiful form up off the hardwood floor.

I wasn’t going to respond to him; and I wasn’t going to pity him. I was just going to be there for him.

I kneeled beside him, grabbed his head, cradling it in my lap as he continued to vomit onto the floor below us. I didn’t even mind that some of it splattered on my shoes. All that mattered was that I had to stay; and that I had to hold him.

I sighed, almost scolding myself, as I held him in my arms and on my lap. His body was weak, hardly even able to hold the weight of his own head up off of my lap enough to puke away from me. And then I knew how completely selfish I had been. I knew right then how completely ignorant I was.

How could I have let him fool me?

How could I have let him get away with never resting?

How could I have let him get away with always saying that he was fine?

He wasn’t fine.

He had cancer.

He would never be fine.

It was all so crazy, the way his illness came on so suddenly after he was seemingly feeling just fine. It was almost like a man affected by a fast-acting poison. And as soon as my mind made such a connection, I nearly cried at the concept.

His illness
was
like a poison.

And every time it suddenly washed over him, I made him stay home from work.

I never wanted him to miss work. In fact, I hated that Derek wasn’t at work because that always meant more work for me—and me worrying about him all day. And there was also the fact that everyone was on overdrive in his absence.

Rumors filled the empty air, and I could do nothing but bite my tongue at the remarks I heard as I walked by.

I knew that they were all bullshit, but I couldn’t say that; I couldn’t spill the truth. I couldn’t let
anyone
know how deluded they
all
were.

But then, that all changed, when I overheard a couple of interns—one man and one woman—talking, by the coffee maker, as I entered the break room for my routine mid-morning cup of Joe.

“He’s not actually on drugs!” the woman spoke. She looked familiar, but not because I actually knew her. It was more the look of her—tall, thin, pretty, with long blonde hair, slicked back in a fashionista ponytail.

Immediately, I could tell that she was the type to try and get by on her looks and gossiping. She hardly looked like there were any brains there, and by the way that she was carrying herself, I could tell that I was likely correct. “He’s sick with cancer, I mean, can you believe that?!”

She was laughing, as if it was some miraculous secret that she had uncovered. I couldn’t believe how desensitized she was to it, so uncaring. And every ounce of who I was tempted me and told me to snap and bitch-slap her in front of the entire office.

I wanted to shut her up for good, but I knew that I couldn’t.

I had to hold it all back. For the sake of being a professional, as well as for the sake of Derek. This was his company, after all, and he would be liable for a fight outbreak.

“Yeah, I heard that,” the man replied in a fake hushed voice. I could tell that he wanted everyone to hear; he wanted to be looked at for having the best gossip, just like every other self-conscious pretty-boy wanting to get ahead in business.

“Can we get back to work?” I grumbled, moving past them to grab the pitcher of coffee.

“Oh, right… you’re in charge today, huh?” the woman asked, a smug grin on her face.

“No. That would be the V.P., but I’m a lot higher pay-grade than you are.”

“Yeah,” the girl whispered, in a cocky tone, “especially considering you’re fucking the boss.”

The man’s eyes darted away from me and looked directly at the wall, obviously embarrassed by what his companion had just said. But there was no need to be embarrassed. Terrified, sure. Not embarrassed though, never embarrassed.

“Excuse me?!” I blurted, offended.

“You’re waiting until he kicks the bucket to take his money!”

And as soon as she said it, I snapped.

My fist balled up, my arm launched behind my ear, as if it were a gun loading up for battle, and then I shot.

And I hit.

My fist met her jaw, and as soon as it did, I felt how solidly I hit her.

And as soon as I did, I left.

I couldn’t be there anymore.

Hell, I knew that it’d all get back to Derek sooner or later. May as well not ask to be excused rather than wait and be demanded to be excused. He had zero tolerance for workplace violence; and for good reason.

But I couldn’t handle it.

I was losing it.

Losing everything.

I hated to know that was what people thought about me. I hated to know that the entire workplace thought I was some sort of slut; and now some sort of crazy, violent slut. I knew that I shouldn’t have focused on it, but as soon as I got into my apartment, I broke down.

I leaned against the nearest wall and cried.

And cried.

And cried.

I knew that I should have tried to take my focus off of it, but I couldn’t help but focus on the main part of it all…and that was Derek.

Derek.

The man I loved.

The man that wasn’t always going to be there. Derek was going to “kick the bucket,” as they so eloquently put it.

The terrible part was that there was no arguing that fact.

However, I didn’t want to face it. I didn’t want to face the truth.

Over the course of weeks, I had been lying to myself, pretending like it all didn’t exist, or pretending like it would all just magically get better. But the truth was that Derek wasn’t going to get better.

Derek was going to die.

Derek had stage four cancer, and there were no alternatives; they were out of options. There was no surviving it.

Derek Sholts was going to die.

The man I loved was going to die. And part of me was going to die along with him.

Hell, a part of me already felt like it was, as I felt my body collapse and my knees hit the ground.

A sharp pain littered throughout my kneecap, but it paled in comparison to the pain I was feeling in my soul. The tears felt heavy as they left my eyes, and not even God, himself, could have stopped their burdening fall to the ground below.

I felt my lips shudder, as I struggled to catch my breath, the tears and the pain too strong.

And then there he was…

He appeared like an angel, as he came in from my fire escape. It was like a scene out of a movie. He was coming in for the rescue like a freaking super hero. And if I didn’t know any better, I would have really thought a halo appeared above his head.

A gleaming beam of light encircled his body, as he moved in from the window and over and down my sink area so that he was closing in on me from the kitchen.

I blinked, hard, just trying to make sure that I had actually seen what I thought I had.

But he was still there when I opened my eyes.

“I hate you!” I bellowed, without meaning to, happy that Polly was nowhere in sight. My tears were flowing out like roaring river currents, painful, determined, and never faltering.

His eyes glistened, and he looked upon my face with regret.

“You made me fall in love with you!” I screamed, but he still said nothing. He only held onto me. He only held me closer, the palms of his hands cradling the back of my head, as his fingers gripped me with purpose.

“I was perfectly content with life, and then you came along with your illness!!” I was livid, but I was also horrifically crushed in every way imaginable. I didn’t know what else to do; I only knew that I hated it all and that I wanted him to know how much I hated it all…

“I hate not knowing what to do!!” I screamed, burying my tears into the fabric of his shirt, which lay gracefully over his shoulder. “I hate having no direction!!”

“You still have direction,” he whispered, trying to settle me.

“No!” I bellowed again, pain evident in my throat. “I don’t! Not without you! Not now!”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said tenderly, with nothing but utmost certainty. “You knew where you were going before me, and you know where you’re gonna go after me.”

He spoke with confidence, but I wasn’t listening to any of it.

The truth was, that he might have felt that way. But the fact of it was, was that he was wrong.

“No,” I whispered, feeling faint. “I did know where I was going, but now, that a part of me is going with you, the rest of me is going to be lost, forever trying to regain what I lost.”

And then I felt him tense and his hand, which had been cradling the back of my head, suddenly fell weak and fell from my hair. And before I knew it, I was holding him.

“Did you come because I hit that intern?” I cried into him, holding him tightly.

He nodded, but didn’t say a word.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You know, you told me that human beings are beautiful,” he said, breathlessly, against my bosom. “I never once believed that. In fact, that was all hogwash to me…”—his eyes glistened as he spoke—“…before I met you…before I fell for you,” he croaked, pulling away from me just enough so that he could look me in the eye.

“Come and be with me tonight, please.” He was begging, and I honestly wouldn’t be able to pinpoint anything that I would rather do.

I knew that I still needed to hang out with Polly. I needed to tell her how awesome she did in the play. I had to be there for her. But if she knew the truth, she would smack me for putting her first in a situation such as this one.

She would want me to go spend time with Derek.

And honestly, that was all I wanted to do.

I nodded and before I knew it, he scooped himself and then me off the floor.

“Can we use the door rather than the fire escape?” I asked.

“Well, the truth is,” he smirked, “I was actually sitting out there before you got home and when I heard you crying, I thought that I should probably come in and comfort you.”

“How did you get in?”

“You keep a key under your mat.”

All he said was, “Wow!” as I removed my clothing slowly, feeling vulnerable but completely open and passionate with him. I wondered if the vision in front of him was really as stunning as he let on. Was I really that special? The way he looked at me made me shudder with intensity. It was like he was beholding something beautiful, something perfect.

“What’s ‘wow’?” I asked shyly. I didn’t want to sound self-conscious, but I was…and I certainly did want to know what he found so special about me.

I was half-naked in a billionaire dream boat’s home; how could I not be feeling self-conscious?

I was a country girl from the sticks—from bum fuck Egypt—and he was something…incredible. He was extraordinary.

“Everything,” he whispered, pulling me close.

“Your body…” His hands moved over me, chilling my flesh, as he roamed over me, exploring me all the way down and then back up to my neck. His hands massaged over the area that met my shoulders and then gently smoothed over to my throat. “Your slender neck,” he whispered, as he moved his hands back to my shoulders “These lovely shoulders….”

I gasped.

His hands journeyed down the front of my shoulders, over my chest, and found their way to my breasts. “These breasts,” he groaned, grasping them fully just, before lightly tweaking my reddened, erect nipples.

He bit his lip, as he looked at me, and a chill rolled up and down my spine.

Your waist is so sexy and narrow…” he grabbed me by the waist. “Stomach so flat…”

I shuddered, as his hands roamed over my body, complimenting me with every inch he rolled over.

“You're incredible, Zoe, and I mean
incredible
,” he whispered, almost too perfectly. “You’re beautiful.”

I felt my eyes glisten with an intense longing, as I felt the fuel of love beat through my veins. I could do nothing in that moment except feel, feel him, feel the longing, and feel the emotions quaking throughout my entire body. I wanted him. I craved him. All of him. It didn’t matter that I was upset; all that mattered was that we were together in that moment… and hopefully many more moments to come.

As I continued to—hopefully—entice him with my body, I felt the negative thoughts of before leaving me little by little. And it took no longer than my last garment falling to the floor and my finger extending and curving up in a come-hither-motion to forget it all.

He smiled and walked closer to me—but only a couple of steps—before he, too, began slowly, tenderly, and tantalizingly removing his clothing.

I shuddered as I watched, feeling so close, so unbelievably connected, as I watched him disrobe it all.

We had been naked together before; we had made love before…but this time was different. This was more vulnerable.

I watched as he pulled at the hem of his boxer briefs and yanked them down over his erection. I watched the garment as it fell to the floor, his member finally standing free, facing me.

My eyes were fixated on it, as it quivered and throbbed with desperation.

I was stunned at how much I felt the need to look at him as he stood there, completely exposed—in body and spirit—watching me, also completely exposed.

His beautiful, beautiful erection…. it beckoned me. I wanted it.

I stepped towards him, closing the distance between us, and wrapped my fingers around him, just before giving it a light—but firm—squeeze.

“Ah,” he breathed out, and immediately, my hands began to move up and down, stroking his foreskin over the entire length of his shaft.

The feeling of his cock in my hands was almost enough to cause my mind and body to explode. I was in complete ecstasy.

“I love you so much,” he gasped, as I continued stroking him.

I smiled, my hands busy working his cock and balls. I couldn’t say anything else. I could only do… and in that moment, all I wanted to do was what I was doing.

He reached out and grabbed my breasts, his palms firm against me. My nipples became instantly erect, incredibly so, in fact. And he definitely noticed. A smirk danced over his face, as he rolled the hard nubs in between his fingers, eliciting moans of pleasure from my depth.

“God….” I gasped.

He dropped his hand down onto my abdomen, and it rested there for a moment, lazily twirling fingers over flesh, but then I felt him continue venturing further down, his fingers lightly dancing across my skin until I felt him struggle, with great intent and determination, to move between my closed thighs. I smirked.

I knew what he wanted. My thighs were like that of a large steel door, separating him from his true destination. He sought solace at my nether-regions, and I knew how badly he wanted it as soon as I opened my legs for him.

Like a bullet, his hand made its way to my naked mound, and his fingers slid effortlessly down my slit and up again.

I moaned as I felt his firm palm rub over my soaked lips.

I leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips, opening my mouth ever so slightly, just enough for me to slip the tip of my tongue into his mouth.

He put his arms around me and pulled me to him so that we were even closer than we already were; and our naked bodies molded together beautifully.

My hand snaked between us so that I could grip him once again, and as soon as I made contact, I pulled my head back and softly whispered to him, “I need you.”

He began kissing my neck and then my shoulders—all the way to my breasts. They were engorged with a swollen luster, firm and plump from his assaults and my arousal.

He kissed each nipple, just before suckling them.

I moaned, my hand still on his cock, continuing to stroke back and forth—up and down.

He pushed me to the floor, and it wasn’t until I felt his body’s weight against mine that I noticed something I hadn’t before. The fireplace crackled, as flames filled the firebox, and my head, which lay just beyond the hearth, was hot.

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed that it was even going before.

The heat that radiated from it was intense.

How could I have not known?

But just as I felt his body move downwards, kissing me along my flesh, every inch of the way, I realized how I might have missed it. No matter how hot the physical fire was in the fireplace, it hardly held a flame next to the heat I felt deep within my loins.

His fiery kisses continued downwards, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have sworn that he was leaving hot wax behind with every peck, every tongue graze…every single one of them.

My body arched into him, and it wasn’t long until he reached what I knew was his destination.

“Mmm…” he moaned, just before burying his nose in my weeping mound.

“Wow!” I gasped. Having him down there, next to the fire, feeling overwhelmed with everything from the evening, was a whole new wonderful experience, which I found incredibly arousing.

“Oh, Derek…” I groaned. “That feels so good… mmm….”

But I couldn’t take much more. I had to have him. All of him.

I wasn’t sure how I did it, and I wasn’t sure how I was able to do it so quickly, but somehow—lost in the moment of love and passion—I was somehow on top of him, lowering my soaked core onto his throbbing rod.

My hands were on his shoulders, my womanhood flexing over and over—relaxing and tightening with every motion—as I continued plunging myself off and onto his erection. It was all so incredible; the feeling of lowering down on him over and over was sending me into nothing more than pure ecstasy.

“God!!!” His face was red, and I could tell he didn’t quite know that he had felt anything like it before.

I knew then and there that I was the best he ever had.

He didn’t have to say it.

His expression, his reactions, they told me all I needed to know.

I cackled devilishly, as I continued to ride him. I knew what he wanted, and I knew that I loved giving it to him. I loved the idea that I was the greatest thing he had ever had.

I mean, sure, it probably wasn’t hard to be the best in other categories, but sex, sex was definitely an accomplishment.

I doubted that I was ever the best at that. But with Derek, I had had a lot of practice.

A lot of much needed, much appreciated practice.

“Like that, huh?” I asked, biting my lip, as I continued to bounce up and down his erection. He couldn’t even respond. All he could do was make incoherent noises. But he didn’t need to say anything. The noises and the pulsating throbs of his cock inside of me were all the indicators that I needed.

“It feels good to me, too,” I said with a laugh, just before I felt myself reaching the brink.

I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer and prayed that he was close; and just as I was about to ask, I felt him tense. His entire body flexed, and every muscle on his gorgeous physique tensed, as his cock spurted hot semen in throbbing bursts within me. That was all I needed.

“Oh yeah!” I screamed out, a wave of pleasure rushing over my body, possessing me as if it were a living organism taking complete control over me.

I collapsed beside him, only to nuzzle him sweetly.

“I love you,” he said firmly, just before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into the most beautiful kiss that I had ever experienced.

“I love you, too,” I replied, pulling back mere centimeters from his heated lips.

“Are you going to stay with me?” he asked, his eyelashes blinking adorably.

I smiled. “If you want me to.”

He looked at me for a moment, blinking. I wondered what he was thinking.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, sweetly, delirium clearly setting in. He had to be exhausted.

I wondered how he kept up such an energetic sex life with him being sick and all.

But as soon as he asked the question, I felt my heart lurch and pang in my throat, just before the brim of my eyes began to burn. I was about to cry.

I didn’t answer him; I thought it was an obvious answer. I thought I already was.

However, actually labeling myself as his girlfriend scared me. I wasn’t sure what was actually in that label that worried me. I already loved him. But it did… it worried me.

“Are you staying?” he asked, half asleep.

“I said if you want me to,” I replied, cupping his cheek in my hand.

“You can go home if you’d like…” he sighed into his pillow, and as soon as he said it, he drifted off to sleep.