Billionaire's Escort - Page 132

Kayla

Ethan ran down the driveway, through the security gate, and tore open the back door of the cab. He pulled me into his arms, begging me not leave him. The next thing I knew, we were back in his bed, and he was making passionate love to me. We undulated together in perfect harmony, and the pleasure swelling up inside me crescendoed into a fabulous orgasm in perfect timing with his own.

Afterward, as we lay wrapped in each other's arms, he stared deeply into my eyes, opened his mouth, and said...

Suddenly, a loud buzzing sound filled the air as the blare of my alarm clock destroyed the wonderful dream.

As I turned off the offensive noise, I came to the realization that I wasn't with Ethan: I was back in my crappy, new apartment. In fact, I hadn’t seen Ethan (or Mick, for that matter) since that fateful night. It was hard to believe it had been nearly a month since my photoshoot for Speed Magazine. So much happened in that time, it was hard to wrap my brain around it.

I'd ridden the cab from Beverly Hills to the bus station and bought a ticket back home. When I called my parents’ house from the station and asked them to come pick me up, my mother instantly started crying.

"We missed you so much." She hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe. She pounced on me the second I walked through the front door of my childhood home with Dad trailing behind me.

"I missed you, too, Mom," I said, and my own voice was choked with emotion.

"We're just glad to know you're okay."

"I sent you letters over the years, and I called every Christmas and every Mother's Day and Father's Day," I pointed out.

"I know, and it was great to hear from you, but you never really know if your child is safe and sound until you can look them in the face. God, sweetie, you've gotten so thin. Let me make you something to eat."

Mom turned to the refrigerator and started pulling out ingredients.

"I'm fine, Mom. I'm a professional model. If I put on weight, it will ruin my career."

I told them then about my life in L.A., the jobs I'd had, and my big break modeling for the cover of Speed Magazine. My father was particularly impressed and wanted to know every detail about the bike. I left out the part about Ethan and going to his mansion that night. Finally, I told them about Mick and our big break-up. My father was livid.

"That no good son-of-a-bitch. I told you that piece of shit was no good from the start. I told you not to keep seeing him, that he would take advantage of you. Then, you had to go and run off to L.A. with him. If he were here, I'd kick his ass."

"Calm down, Joe," my mother Sharon said. "It's not our place to I-told-you-so the girl. We're her family. It's our job to support her in this difficult time and welcome her home. I'm just grateful things weren't worse, and I'm so happy that she's home now."

Mom started talking then about fixing up my room and how great it would be having me back again. I hated to break her heart, but I had to interrupt. "I'm not moving back to stay."

"What do you mean? Of course, you are. You just said you can't go back to that apartment with Mick and that you never want to see him again."

"Yes, I did. But I also told you that I just had my big break modeling for the cover of Speed Magazine. When that issue comes out next month, everyone will see it. I'll be the talk of L.A. Who knows what kind of job offers I'll get from this and where it will take my career. If I want to take advantage of every opportunity, I'll need to be where the action is: in L.A."

"Can't you stay here until then?" Mom was sulking, and the food she was frying in a skillet on the stove started to burn. Quickly, she turned her attention to it and started frantically stirring.

I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and kissed the top of her graying head. "Oh, Mom. I love you and Dad. That's why I wanted to come see you, but this is just a visit. I love my life in L.A., too, and I want to return to it. I love the city, and the atmosphere, and the climate, and the people. I love the crowds, the culture, and the sunshine. I think I was meant to be an L.A. girl all my life, but I never realized it until I got there. It was the one thing Mick did right.

“It took a few years, but I finally got my big break in my career, and it was everything I wanted it to be. I felt like a star, and I want more of it. Many models go their entire careers without an opportunity like this, and I don't want to waste it. I'm going back."

I could see that my parents wanted to argue, but thankfully, they didn't. I ended up staying with them for an entire week, and it was just what I needed to recharge my batteries and invigorate my soul. I got to see my brothers and sisters and my new niece and nephews that I hadn't even met yet. I got to revisit long-lost friends and walk down memory lane.

/> In the end, it was obvious that I had outgrown the sleepy little town where I grew up. I craved the excitement of L.A., the night life, and the glamour.

True, I had never wanted it while in the middle of it, but still it had been there, lighting up the city and giving it an energy that penetrated all things. Now, when my cover came out next month, I might even actually be part of the heart of that glamour – I sure hoped so. It was the one thing I wanted more than anything.

It was funny, though. Even as I said that to my old friend from high school, my mind popped up an image of Ethan. Maybe there was something else I longed for in L.A., too.

After the week visiting my parents, I took the bus back and started getting my life put back together. I'd earned enough money from the Speed Magazine shoot to get myself an apartment and a less-than-decent car. The beat-up Toyota looked like crap, but it got me where I needed to go.

I bought some used furniture for my new place and a brand-new bed that wouldn't be tainted with any bad memories. Mick kept calling me on my cell, begging me to forgive him and take him back. After a while, he gave up and started leaving messages saying that he wanted to be friends and would I like to come pick up any of my stuff he had carefully set aside. Eventually, he gave up on that and left a final message telling me to go fuck myself and that he'd left all my shit outside, so if I didn't come get it, the bums would carry it off.

I knew the keepsakes I had from my grandmother would be in those boxes and pictures of my family I'd never be able to replace, so I'd better rescue them while I still could.

I didn't want or need anything else from the life I'd spent with Mick. They were all wasted years to me now and I was ready to move on to a new and fabulous future as an independent woman.

Tags: Claire Adams Billionaire Romance
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