Nicole Harper

~•~

Two months later and I still hadn't found someone who could make me feel the things that stranger made me feel in bed.

I also had wet dreams about him even if I knew nothing of him.

Sometimes, I regretted going because his image was imprinted on my mind, but whenever I recalled the money I made from it, the regret dissolved quickly. I was able to pay my rent up until my graduation. I was able to focus on my studies without thinking of where to get the next meal from since my mother didn't even bother to keep her promise of sending me her next allowance.

I was more than happy when my lease was up. I'd applied for work in several companies in Boston, but didn't hear from any of them. When my mom suggested I go back home, I took it. My mom wasn't a very good person, but she knew a lot of people. If I couldn't find a job myself, I didn't mind using her connections. 

Besides, I loved Chicago more than Boston and would prefer to settle down there.

"So we're never going to meet again?" Clara questioned as she leaned by my door, watching me close my suitcase.

I looked up at her. Clara and I had become a lot closer after that night. "Chicago is only a three or four-hour flight from here, Clara. We can visit whenever we want to."

She sighed. "True. I just hope the next person that moves in is as nice as you are."

"It's hard not to be nice to someone like you."

Clara snorted. "Tell that to them," she jerked her thumb backward, pointing at the couch where our other roommates were.

I grinned. "They're special."

Everything in my room fit into two huge suitcases. Clara helped me with one downstairs and offered to drive me to the airport. I couldn't say no to that. 

At the airport, we hugged each other bye and I was on my way. I hadn't been back home in a year and a half because living with my mom was quite stressful. Thankfully, I'd be busy this summer-hopefully- and wouldn't have to deal with her every second of the day.

Speaking of my mother.

She was waiting for me as I exited the airport with a large unnecessary sign that had my name on it. My mother, as always, was in a pink matching set. Her blonde hair was tied in a deliberate messy bun. She rushed towards me when she saw me, hugging me with a squeal. I let go of my suitcases and hugged her back.

She pulled back to stare at me, frowning. "You're much thinner than you used to be."

Was I? I'd think I'd added more weight in the past two months.

"It's fine though," she dismissed me before I could respond. She took one of the suitcases and hooked her arm through mine. "We're rich now, so I'll feed you whatever you want." She paused. "Well, the housekeeper will, but his fridge is always stocked."

I stopped walking, making her halt as well. "What? We're living with your new husband?"

"Of course, silly." She chuckled. "Do you expect me to live in a different house?"

"No, I don't expect you to do that, but I can live alone at home."

"What home? I sold our house already."

My jaw dropped. It wasn't the first time I was living with my mom and her husband, but that didn't mean I wanted to go through that again. She argued with them all the time and asked for a divorce whenever things didn't go her way. If she'd told me she sold our place, I would have found a way to renew my lease. "You didn't think that maybe I'd want to live there?"

"Why would you live there when you have a better option?" She sounded genuinely confused.

I sighed and resumed walking. There was no use reasoning with her. She saw everything her way. I didn't know anything about her new husband; not his name, nor his face, nor even what he did for work. She wanted me to live with a literal stranger?

"Don't worry about it, Nikky. He's barely at home so you won't run into him all the time. I only told him to stay home today so I can introduce you. I..."

I stopped listening as she continued speaking. It wasn't ideal to live with her husband, but I had no choice at the moment. I needed to find a job, then an apartment. I also wanted to meet this supposed billionaire. I could only hope it wasn't a glorified drug dealer since my mom had very weird tastes in men.

We walked over to her car. It was just as pink as her clothes. I used to like pink when I was younger until my mom abused the color. "Is it pretty?" She questioned, pointing at the car.

I nodded noncommittally and waited for her to open the boot so I could put my luggage in.

During the ride to her new home, she talked about how perfect her new man was. Perfect being him giving her money whenever she asked without asking why she needed it. 

She also called about where and how she met him, but I zoned out during most of the conversation. I only recalled her saying that it was good to be in places where rich men frequented.

From her words, it was already obvious she didn't like the man. She only wanted his money. I felt bad for the poor man who had to marry her. She was going to drain him and leave him when he had nothing. That was usually what she did. I wasn't sure if these men didn't care enough to know her past or if they were just stupid enough to think they were the exception.

The house looked like every other building on the block, but it was fenced and well, expensive. I guess he did have money.

"Tristan!" My mom yelled as we exited the car. "Tristan! Nicole is here!"

I shook my head slightly, but rolled my luggage behind me as I headed to the door.

"Tris-" my mom's yelling was cut short when the door finally opened.

My breath caught in my throat when a very familiar man stepped out of the house. Was this the husband?

My mom walked over to him with a big grin. "Tristan, this is Nicole, my daughter. Nikky, this is Tristan, your stepfather."

I blinked. That was my stepfather?

The same man who had fucked me two months ago that I couldn't seem to forget was my new stepfather???

Was this a joke?

Nicole Harper

~•~

At first, I thought, what the fuck? What were the odds that the man who kept appearing in my dreams happened to be the man my mom got married to?

Then I thought, WHAT THE FUCK? Did he cheat on her with me? 

That night, I was never really sure who the groom was. If it was his bachelor's party, then he was already engaged yet he fucked me like he didn't care about that. My mom wasn't the best person out there, but that didn't mean she deserved to be cheated on.

"Nikky," my mom said, placing a hand on his chest. "Say hi to Tristan."

My lips parted but words refused to come out. I wasn't sure what to do. If I had anywhere else to go, I would run away immediately. The situation I was in was absolutely insane. Was I supposed to tell my mother what happened? But I couldn't tell her that without revealing that I went stripping. Would she even believe me? Or would she think I was trying to sabotage her marriage?

Tristan stepped forward when I didn't say anything. "Nice to meet you, Nikky."

"Don't call me that," I snapped unintentionally. 

He narrowed his eyes slightly, glanced at my mom then back at me. Was he pretending not to know me? How noble of him. "Nice to meet you, Nicole?"

I gritted my teeth. Was he trying to piss me off on purpose? 

Ignoring my reaction to him, he walked further, trying to take my luggage from me. I stepped away. "I'll carry it in myself."

My mother, oblivious to the tension, or pretending not to care, clapped her hands in delight. "Come in, I'll show you to your room. I took the liberty of decorating it just the way you liked."

I walked over to my mom and didn't look back as she led me inside. I could feel Tristan's stare on my back but I pretended not to notice. The house was huge but I had no time to take it in because I wanted to get to my new room as soon as possible.

Four flights of stairs later, two per level, we arrived at my new room. "You're in between me and Tristan," she explained, pushing the door open.

"You live in separate rooms?"

"He likes his space," she shrugged. Yeah, sure he did. I was sure he used his space to fuck other women, didn't he? "I also prefer to decorate my space however I want. Besides, we have a shared bedroom opposite yours." She nodded at the door opposite the room.

This was such an awkward position to be in. Apart from the fact that I knew the size of her husband's cock, I was also caught in between them physically. Why would she think it was a bright idea to put my room in the middle of theirs? 

I wanted to ask for a different room, but I also didn't want to be a bother.

"Do you like it?"

At her words, I properly focused on the room. My tongue poked the inside of my cheek. The walls were painted pink. Everything in the room was either pink or white. I stopped liking pink a long time ago because of her, but she thought she decorated the room just the way I liked.

I forced a smile, swallowing the actual words I wanted to say to her. "Yes."

"Perfect! Settle in so we can go shopping in the evening."

My brows furrowed in confusion. "Shopping?"

"Yes." She leaned in. "Tristan gave me a black card."

"I'm not spending his money!" I responded which was ironic because my last few months of rent were settled with his money.

"Why? Because he's not your father?" I clenched my teeth at her question. She was the same one who told me two months ago that he couldn't pay my debts because he wasn't my father. "I'm sorry for giving you a deadbeat father, but I've atoned myself with this one, no? Don't be uptight." She held my arm affectionately. "Besides, Tristan wouldn't mind."

Tristan wouldn't mind but I would. I didn't like the man. I didn't want to be near him. I definitely didn't want to use his money. Who knew how he got it?

"The flight was stressful, Mom," I decided to change the subject because if I continued to say no, my mom would find a way to convince me. She didn't stop until she had her way. "I want to shower and get some rest for now. We can talk about shopping on a different day."

She stared at me for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. "Fine. You've had a hard time at school. Get some rest. I'll tell the housekeeper to make you food."

"It's fine," I shook my head. I didn't want to bother anyone and I also didn't want anyone coming up to my room. "I can cook for myself."

"Nicole–"

"It's fine, Mom. Really."

"Are you sure?" I nodded. 

Thankfully, I didn't have to persuade her to leave anymore. She left after that. I closed and locked the door after she left. Then I stood in the middle of the room and looked around.

It was nothing close to my personal taste but I would have to make do with it until I could afford to move out. 

I collapsed on the bed and exhaled heavily. I wasn't sure who I offended in my past life. I wasn't sure if this was some kind of karmic retribution, but I still couldn't believe that man was my stepfather.

I'd spent the last month or two clenching my legs whenever I recalled how roughly he took me that night. I woke up wet from dreams about him. Clara thought I was crazy. Even I thought I was crazy for thinking about a stranger so much just because of sex.

Now I was living in his house and he was married to my mother.

Talk about coincidence.

This was worse than that.

This was punishment for daring to fuck a man during a bachelor's party.

Nicole Harper

~•~

I was lost in thought until I fell asleep.

By the time I woke up, it was very dark outside. I checked my phone to see that it was already past eight at night. I blinked in surprise. How long did I think for? How long did I sleep for?

I sat on the bed, not sure what to do, then my stomach rumbled and I found myself changing into something much more comfortable-an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

Barefoot, I made my way downstairs and went to the kitchen. The space was huge. It was the kind of kitchen that made you want to spend time in it regardless of whether or not you knew how to cook.

I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I opened the fridge, hoping to find something to eat. A blue sticky note caught my attention and I carried the container it was stuck on.

My lips pulled into a smile. At least, my mom was selfless enough to reserve dinner for me.

I put it into the microwave and leaned against the kitchen island, doomscrolling as I waited for my food to heat up.

"You don't like me very much, do you?"

I jumped in fright, turning around to see that Tristan was on the other side of the island. I placed my hand on my chest, trying to calm my fast-beating heart. "What the hell? What are you doing here?"

He arched an eyebrow. "This is my house, Nicole," he said, emphasizing on my name.

My tongue poked the inside of my cheek in annoyance, knowing damn well why he was speaking like that.

As I stared at him, all the memories from that night came flashing in my head. 

"Are you throwing a fit because your mother remarried or is it an issue with me personally?"

I took a subconscious step backward even if there was something in between us. The more oblivious he acted, the angrier I got. My mother was with her third husband. She'd had several boyfriends. If he were this rich, it wouldn't be hard for him to find out and my mom never hid her history. Why would I get angry about a man who wouldn't last two years?

"Are we going to keep acting oblivious?" I questioned, not sure when the words left my mouth. I hadn't decided on whether or not to confront him yet here he was standing in front of me, looking ridiculously good in a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, looking nothing like the man who tied my hands behind my back, fucked me until I almost cried, and left me like that.

His hair almost covered his eyes, but I could vividly remember how those brown eyes tracked my every move that night. He'd been mesmerized. His intense gaze had turned me on, but how could I have known he was the "billionaire" my mother was talking about on the phone?

He arched an eyebrow. "Have we met before?"

I opened my mouth, ready to call him every name in the book, ready to call him out for acting like he didn't remember what happened that night, but then I paused.

What if he really didn't recognize me?

That night, I'd been wearing a mask that I never took off. I never gave him my name either. It was possible he couldn't recognize me. He knew nothing about me. Not my name. Not my face. Only the sound I made when I came undone.

I turned around, facing away from him as I closed my eyes tightly. Fuck.

I almost fucked up. I almost revealed that I was the stripper that night. If he couldn't recognize me, things were a lot better this way. I would have to learn how to act around him and not give myself away.

"Have we?" He was suddenly a lot closer.

I moved away, walking closer to the microwave as I faced him again. His eyes were stuck on my face. For a second, they drifted to my lips. My breath hitched. "No, not at all."

"Then I presume we have no existing differences?"

I swallowed. As long as we weren't counting intimacy. "None."

"Good," he hummed, his voice low and deep, doing something to my stomach I would never dare admit. "Your mom was worried you didn't join us for dinner today. I'm assuming that won't be the case tomorrow."

Dinner? Together? I wasn't used to that. However, I didn't trust my voice anymore so I just settled for nodding. His presence was imposing. He was close enough that he could reach me, turn me around, and...

I cleared my throat, ridding myself of every improper thought I had of him. He was my mom's husband. Aside from that, he wasn't a good person either. Good people didn't cheat on their partners. There was nothing to fantasize about him.

Just because I knew what he looked like and felt like, just because I knew how good he was at handling a woman's body didn't mean...

Fuck. I was already going off track.

"I don't like it when women are unhappy in my house," he said, taking a step back. "Especially not my wife."

I bit the inside of my cheek, physically restraining myself from snorting. If he cared so much about his wife, why was he looking at strippers with lustful eyes? Men were such hypocrites.

The microwave beeped, reminding me that I still had to eat. I let out a breath and focused on my food. By the time I brought the container out of the microwave, he was gone. I didn't even hear him leave.

Then again, I didn't hear him come in either.

I transferred my food onto a plate and carried it up to my new room, not wanting to run into that man again. He unsettled me.

I needed to pretend like everything was fine, but I'd never been the best at pretending.

This was going to be a wild summer.

Were there any jobs that provided accommodation for interns?