It's been three days since I've seen her.
Three, long days since she's set foot in my apartment and stood before me in that lace slip I'd bought for her.
Three fucking days that she's refused to come up to my apartment despite my sending Hunter down there to bring her to me.
At first I thought she was trying to make some kind of point about the way I'd kicked her out, by denying me what we both knew I needed from her.
So I'd let her have that one night, give her a chance to cool off before she returns the next night, dressed appropriately in the burgundy set that had been altered just for her, complete with garter and stockings.
But no.
She'd chosen to leave her apartment altogether. Dinner with some of the other girls, Mona had explained quietly.
"Is this the kind of establishment where we just let the girls go out when they please, Mona? Is it?"
She blinked as if I'd gone insane, opening and closing her mouth as if she wasn't sure what to say to me. I'd stormed off, too irritated and frustrated to wait for a response from her.
By the time the girls made their way back home, they were so drunk, they were stumbling in the lobby, screaming and giggling like a couple of sorority girls.
Thank fuck none of the clients were still around by then. Considering the amount of noise they were making, they would have been displeased, to say the least.
Mona knows I want this to be a classy, discreet establishment, and I'd yelled at her for nearly an hour about how inappropriate the girls' behaviour had been.
She nodded dutifully every now and then, her eyes downcast while I paced in front of her, listing all the changes that were to be.
After kicking her out, Hunter had entered, and gently reminded me of the Miami trip scheduled for the end of the week. A few of my business associates were interested in branching out, expanding on our territory, so to speak.
But now I just felt like I was walking into some kind of trap, led blindly by the very people who pretended to be my allies while secretly plotting my downfall behind closed doors.
Nonetheless, I had agreed to go to ward off suspicion. Until Avery unmasked the people behind the breech in my security, I had to pretend I had no idea I was being watched.
Which she hadn't yet, because we were waiting for all that damn equipment to be delivered.
I couldn't go about my usual business because of the feds...
I couldn't even distract myself with fucking...
Shit.
I sent Hunter to her apartment last night, with the very same box he'd been holding two nights before.
She was at her apartment then, fortunately, but she'd purposely ignored the knocking and the pounding until Hunter had left.
I watched her boil water for tea, then disappear into her room before closing the door soundly behind her.
As if she knew I was fucking watching her.
That had pissed me off so much, I'd thrown the tablet into the wall, then stormed out of my bedroom with every intention of dragging her back here kicking and screaming.
It was only when I stepped out the door, fuming and seeing red, that I'd stopped to consider what I was about to do.
I was a really shitty human being, given that I didn't care about anybody but myself and killed anyone who got in my way, but forcing myself on a woman wasn't something I'd ever done.
Avery had always consented to whatever I did to her, always ready and wet for me. Eager to obey, submitting to me without hesitation.
Did I really want to destroy that dynamic between us? Did I want to be someone she was scared of, someone she was terrified to be around for fear that I might do something she didn't consent to?
What made her such a delight was the fact that she agreed so readily to the dirty shit I wanted. That she enjoyed herself - quite thoroughly - despite the various bruises and scars all over her body.
I clenched my fists and inhaled deeply, counting down from hundred until I was calm enough to go back inside and slam the door shut.
So, when I woke up this morning, I was determined not to let thoughts of Avery consume my every waking moment. I was going to go about my day the way I always did, and focus my attention on running the city.
My plan works out pretty well.
I'm busy all day, negotiating deals, greasing a few palms, making several payments, meeting with the mayor about the next election, then my lawyers to discuss how far we were in getting my case thrown out.
Close, they said, since neither the cops nor the feds could find anything concrete tying me to any of the crimes they claim I committed. Everything was circumstantial, at best.
Overall, a pretty damn good day.
But as soon as I get back, any semblance of peace I'd managed to gather throughout the day is destroyed when I find a brand new tablet on my kitchen counter.
Hunter has set up the feed so I have eyes on Avery again. The quality is even better, and I wonder if he replaced the cameras in her bedroom so I could see everything in even better detail, the bastard.
I pour myself a bit of bourbon, then take a seat on my favourite armchair while I watch her get ready for bed.
She changes into a t-shirt after the shower, and begins to moisturise her face and arms slowly, her manicured fingers moving sensually over her skin. I watch her tie her hair up before turning off all the lights in the room and getting into bed.
She tosses around for the first few minutes, and I feel a bit of pleasure at this, since I'm not the only one whose thoughts are running rampant.
I freeze, glass halfway to my mouth when she pushes the sheets away from her body and raises the hem of her shirt above her breasts.
She bends her knees, then spreads them far enough so she could slip one of her hands between her thighs. I toss the contents of my glass down my throat when she slides her fingers into her pussy, gasping delicately at the sensations, then lubricating her clit.
My nostrils flare, and I wish I was in that room with her so I could inhale the scent of her arousal, before diving face first between her legs.
Her other hand squeezes her tits, pinching and twisting her nipples as her eyes flutter closed.
I stare, breath quickening, when she moans and lifts her hips in desperation as she chases her orgasm. I turn up the volume until she's all I can hear, and I'm holding onto that tablet like it's a damn lifeline.
I curse profusely when she cries out, envying her fingers because they have the pleasure of being inside her pussy instead of my cock.
She sighs with contentment, and reaches for the sheets to cover her bare legs. What kills me, and nearly sends me running for the door, is the way she stares at her wet fingers with interest, before putting them into her mouth.
I groan in pain when she starts to suck on them, her tongue lapping up her cum like cream. Before she has the chance to do anything that might push me over the edge, I toss the tablet back on the table beside me and disappear into my bedroom, where I strip down to nothing.
I contemplate getting into bed without a shower, but decide I need to wash the day of my skin first. I turn the tap on, leaving the temperature at cold so I could try and calm my raging hard-on.
After about twenty minutes, my erection has softened slightly, but it's still hard enough to hurt.
I give up and turn the shower off, resigned to another long night without release. I wonder how I had gone so long without a good fuck if three days could have me this tense.
I brush my teeth while I dry off, then grab a pair of boxers and slip under my sheets, praying for sleep to come.
