But isn't that the story of my life?
Always thinking about myself?
Leaving teaching to get into modeling full time? Not even thinking about the people who were relying on me when I began to split my time as an elementary school teacher and a model.
And then when a better offer came along, not even considering the implications to others when I moved into porn.
Maybe I deserved someone who used me as casually as Robert did. Maybe I never hit him, but I abused others with my lack of consideration just the same. I never thought about them. Only what was good for me.
That's why when I finally found out about him, I never gave a second thought to thinking about his wife and child. I just drove.
Got out of there.
I could have gone to the police, maybe?
If not that, I could have tried to warn others. His wife had said there were other women, hadn't she?
And then in New York.
From the very first time Simon came into my life, I've thought about myself first and foremost.
Sure, hun, if you're saying I had to think about the baby at the end, I'll agree that I thought about the baby.
But there had to have been another way than asking Ethan to give up what he's worked on for so long.
I just never bothered to see what it was.
To his credit, Ethan seems to keep going full speed ahead with the release.
Only this time, Conners Media, led by Simon has also stepped to the plate. They announced two days ago that they too would be releasing wearable technology designed to let the user experience porn through virtual reality. They call it Wicked Wear.
Ethan seems to not even care, if that's the right word.
Maybe the plans are so fully committed that he has no option now but to see things through.
In the last week, there's been a media blitz, including front page ads in the the New York Daily Journal, television spots, a marquee every hour at Madison Square Garden, skywriting, giveaways during lunchtime with Illicit Entertainment starlets, and a massive launch party in Times Square.
It's the launch party that has the entire city, and possibly nation talking.
It's being filmed live in Times Square and being carried by all the major networks.
The network morning TV show, Today USA is even carrying it live.
But that's not why everyone is tuning in.
In perhaps the only nod to Simon, Ethan has challenged him to publicly put his product head to head against his.
He says that the entire nation should be allowed to decide for themselves who has the better technology.
Today USA is even planning on doing snap polls in the moment as people see the products matched up.
I'm a little unsure heading up to the launch date how they're going to even do the matchup. I mean, are they going to put the glasses on people and ask which one makes them cum faster?
Seriously, if you're laughing, so am I-but it's a morbid laughter.
Because I know that with the code that Simon has, he's had a week to tweak it and make it better. Whereas Ethan probably is looking to alter his software so as not to seem like a copycat product.
I don't know if this is Ethan's last ditch plan to bluff his way out of an impossible situation. To keep his head high after being stolen from and hurt by someone he let get too close to him.
All I know is that while I don't want to watch, I'm probably going to end up tuning in like everyone in the country. If for nothing else than to pray for a miracle.
That's until the morning of the launch, when I get a phone call.
I look at the phone and my heart skips a beat.
It's Ethan.
With trembling hands, I answer.
"Hello?" I ask, a bit shaky. The butterflies are in full force in my stomach.
"I've sent a car for you, babe," Ethan says. "I want you to get in it."
"Why?" I ask instinctively. After a week and a half of no contact, to call me out of the blue and tell me to get in a car.
I'm sorry hun, but the last time I got into a car, it was with Simon, and do you remember what happened?
"Listen to me, babe," Ethan says into the phone. "I really really really want you to get into that fucking car."
"Where is it going to take me?" I ask him.
"It's going to bring you to my place," he says confidently. I wonder if he's that hard up for sex that he needs me again. "We're going to watch the product launch and the match up together."
Well, let's just say that's a surprise.
I honestly don't know what to say here.
I swear to you – this is just too much.
I'm just a simple girl from Southern California. I'm not someone who normally plays these games that billionaires play. I'm at the end of my wits.
I'm all check-mated out.
"I just got word the car's outside, Brit," Ethan says.
I've been silent, but I know that if there's even a sliver of a chance that I can go back and reclaim the father of my child I'll take it.
"I'll be right down," I tell him, my mind made up.
If there's even a chance for him and I, I'm going to do everything I can to take it.
For me, yeah. But for him as well. And most of all, for the baby.
158
Ethan
I can fucking tell the moment the car pulls up to the curb of One57.
I mean, fuck, I could have told you what Brittney was wearing from the moment she got in the fucking car.
I've got sensors on the car, telling me exactly where it's at. I've got cameras in the car that I can see the passengers.
The cameras in the car though, that one is actually because we filmed a movie once, two people fucking in the backseat of a limo. That's not purposely being a fucking spy or whatever. I think we called those series something like ‘Ride Me: Backseat Confessions' or something.
Anyways, what I'm trying to say is that it's not a big shocker when I see Brittney getting out of the car and walking toward the entrance of the building as the doorman to One57 based on the tiny micro camera I have installed on the lobby.
Yeah, I get shit for it. Every so often, some billionaire's bodyguard or intelligence person finds it. They remove it or destroy it with white noise. But for times like this, where I can use this tablet to watch this beautiful woman get out of the limo in a tight black dress that's accentuating her hips and showcasing her tits, it's absolutely amazing.
Oh yeah, you heard me right. I watch a whole bunch of shit and keep recordings of the surveillance on my fucking tablet.
Remember the first time Brittney came by? I was watching something and totally entranced by it and you wanted to know what it was that was so fucking fascinating but I wouldn't tell you?
Well, here's me telling you right now.
I have these cameras watching, recording, and showing me what happens in places when I'm not there. I got one in my office, around various rooms in Illicit Entertainment, in my homes, in my cars, you name it.
In fact, what I was watching that day when Brittney first came over was-
Fuck, there she is actually, ringing the doorbell.
That was fast.
I'll tell you later, okay?
Right now I walk to the door to open it and reveal a very wary looking Brittney Roman.
I also gotta be a bit honest here.
I look at Brittney, and I know you think I should be mad or something. But all I want to do right now is two things in the world.
I want to pull her close to me and wrap my arms around her. Tell her to stop feeling down. Tell her everything is going to be alright. Make her stop worrying-stop beating herself up, which I know she's doing. I want to make her happy and tell her that I want to protect her for the rest of her life. That I never want anything to get in the middle of us. Ever. That I fucking love her.
Yeah, that's the first thing.
The second thing I want to do is fuck her brains out. I'm completely serious. After I tell her how much I love her, I want to rip off her clothes and fuck her like a whore. Bring her to a whole new level of fucking pleasure than she's ever been before. Fuck her so hard that she forgets what walking is all about she's so fucking sore. Make her scream so loud that only the fucking birds hear her. I want to own her. Body and fucking soul.
And mark my fucking words, darlin', I'm going to do all that.
First though, I hold the door open and look at her.
"Come on in, babe, it's okay," I tell her. She looks at me and warily walks in the door. I smile as she passes me and turns her head back to look at me.
I let a moment pass. Her ass is just too good to not stare.
"Should I leave you and my ass alone so you two can catch up?" Brittney asks me and I look up. She's got the faint hint of a smile going.
"That's the girl I remember," I tell her, grinning at her. "There she is."
"Don't tell me you forgot in a week and a half?" she asks me, with a small pout.
I take a few steps toward her and lean in to kiss her.
It's a chaste fucking kiss. Nothing at all like I'm going to do to her in a bit. But it's all the situation needs right now.
When I pull my head back, I see her. Her eyes are closed and she's enjoying it.
I wrap my arms around her.
"Hey," I tell her. "It's okay. Really. Listen to me … " I say, but she doesn't let me finish.
"No, Ethan, it's not okay, okay?" Brittney says with a ferocity I didn't expect. "I played you, and it's not okay."