Daddy's Little Pet | 18+

|Decisons|

ROBERT

FIVE DAYS LATER

For the umpteenth time this afternoon, I stared blankly at the commissioned portrait hanging on the wall in my room.

My eyes refused to stray and I couldn't look away. Even if I managed to turn, some invisible force brought my eyes back to the beauty on the wall, with her hair billowing in the cool, invisible breeze.

My strawberry blonde beauty. My Renee. I closed my eyes at the thought of her and gripped the whiskey glass I held in my hand so tight it almost broke.

Not that I cared.

Opening my eyes briefly, I stared at the portrait, this time imagining Renee standing near me in my oversized shirt, or maybe some nice as fuck sexy lingerie. Or even a bathrobe... anything at all. She always looked so good in any clothing, and I loved that about her.

'She's not here with you, mister. Get your thinking straight.'

My subconscious chimed all too quickly and shaking my head, I tried to dispel my wandering thoughts, but it was too difficult.

It'd been five days since I left Miami, and came back to my abode here in New York. Five excruciatingly painful days, since I'd last seen my girl, and I was fucked up.

My mental health, my physical health, and my business were all suffering.

I just wasn't the same at all.

I couldn't focus on my business schedules as my thoughts were filled with images of Renee constantly and I would stare at my phone, hoping she'd call me... but she never did.

To say I was disappointed was putting it lightly. I was heartbroken, helpless, and losing it.

After my apology, the portrait worth over a thousand dollars, the expensive-as- fuck flower arrangements, and the jewelry, she still hadn't called me. And it hurt.

It hurt so much—like it was piercing into my skin.

This was the first time in years I'd felt such severe pain and I couldn't breathe properly because of it.

It was suffocating, unbearable and overwhelming.

'Maybe you should just let her go. She doesn't want you anymore. That's evident.' My subconscious said yet again, but I ignored the internal rumbles.

There was no fucking way I was letting Renee go without a fight.

She'd enjoyed every single bit of what we shared, so she had to be feeling this way too.

If she wasn't, well, I had no care. I would still keep thinking and stroking my dick to images of her in my head every night.

It baffled me that now, I rarely found any other women attractive. I mean, I'd gone to numerous bars and clubs since returning. Sometimes for business. Sometimes to relax. And women were in abundance everywhere, but they never appealed to me.

The only person I wanted was Renee. Fucking, sexy, blonde haired Renee!

I sighed heavily, downing the rest of the whiskey and looking back at the portrait, I shook my head, before placing the empty glass on the table.

I hated myself for falling in love with her so quickly, for giving up so soon—for being an asshole and also letting her go so easily.

I should've refused when she suddenly called the boat trip an end.

I should've insisted she stayed, and if she refused, I should've just fucked her into oblivion till she agreed. But what did I do instead? I let her go immediately, with questions between us left unanswered.