“I’m right. There’s a difference. I’m tired just watching you grind.”
“I’m fine, Bree.”
“Yousaythat, but your fine is always tired. Let somebody take care of you for once, even if it’s a resort staff with hot towels.”
I smiled, sipping my drink. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when it’s about you. You give everybody else perfect holidays. I just want you to have one too.”
Her words lingered. As much as I hated to admit it, she was right. I worked day in and day out, trying to make everybody else’s dreams and visions come alive and catering to their wants but I never took the time to cater to my damn self.
“I’ll think about it,” I said quietly.
“Good. I sent pictures. It’s gorgeous. Snow, fireplaces, chefs who actually cook. Shit, one of em’ probably fine as hell, too. Check your email.”
I rolled my eyes but laughed. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you love me for it. Go relax, Elle. Promise me you’ll at least look at it, Damn.”
“Promise.”
“Don’t piss me off Elle. Now, goodnight, boss lady,” she teased.
“Bree—”
She hung up before I could finish. I set the phone down, shaking my head. Bree always meant well. She was the sister I never had, the only one who saw past the polished version of me and knew I was really running off fumes. I leaned back into the water, letting it slide over my shoulders. Maybe she was right. Maybe a week away wouldn’t hurt. I sunk deeper into the bubbles until I felt the water beneath my ears. What would it even feel like to sleep in late and wake up without checking my phone before my eyes fully open or to eat breakfast without answering calls? To move slow… on purpose. I tried to imagine myself in some cabin wrapped in a big blanket with a cup of hot cocoa, looking out at the snow instead of schedules and deadlines. No centerpiece designs flashing through my mind, no clients calling with last minute chaos… just me, relaxing, enjoying the fruits of my labor.
I couldn’t for the life of me remember the last time I took a full day off without feeling guilty as hell. Even when I planned to rest or have a self-pampering day minus the work, I filled it with something that felt productive. This retreat sounded dramatic as hell, but so did burnout, and I was too damn young and fine to let exhaustion swallow me whole and leave me with a face full of wrinkles in my thirties. The wine was starting to relax me more as I let my mind wonder on the what ifs of me disconnecting and going on this much-needed vacation. I lifted my leg out of the water, watching the beads roll down my skin and exhaled.
“Leave it to Bree to bully my ass into a damn vacation,” I said, laughing to myself.
I slipped out of the steam and let the shower rinse everything away then pulled the warm oversized towel from the towel warmer and wrapped it around me. I padded across the floorand wiped the mirror with my hand, my reflection looking less stressed and calmer than a few hours ago. I reached for my Fenty Skin cleanser and started my nightly wind down. It always grounded me. After finishing my facial routine, I grabbed the Body by TPH butta drop and smoothed it along my shoulders, arms, stomach and thighs in slow strokes that made my skin look expensive. Then I finished with the oil, sealing everything in until I felt silk-smooth and soft to the touch. I tied my curls up and slid into my long plush robe. The soft fabric brushed my legs as I walked through my bedroom to the kitchen.
I washed my champagne flute and slipped the bottle back into the fridge. Wine was always a must after a long day’s work to calm my mind and body, along with the steamy bubble bath I just had. I paused and looked around my home, admiring the work I’d put in since buying it and I felt a twinge of loneliness. Some nights I longed for a man to share it with but then quickly remembered that I wasn’t about to force myself into some half ass love situation, just to say I had a man. I was also a little OCD so as much as I’d love to have someone sharing my space with me, I knew it would also drive me crazy with putting up with a man that wasn’t like me.
I flipped the kitchen light off and headed back to my bedroom then pulled my plush comforter back and slid under my cool satin sheets. My bedroom was dim, the city lights slipping in through the blinds. The wine had settled in my bloodstream just right, leaving a relaxed feeling along with a tingling buzz across my body that trickled down to my clit. My body was begging to be touched and since I didn’t have a man, nor the time or patience to entertain one all the time, I settled for the next best thing.
I reached over, opened the nightstand drawer and chuckled to myself at the sight of all the toys I’d stored in there for times like this. I had every style, shape color and size for whatevermood I was in and tonight, I aimed for a powerful orgasm so I knew the only thing that would get me there was my rose. I quickly pulled it out, pressed the button three times and pushed it down on my clit, instantly feeling a shock wave through my body.
“Ahhhhh!” I screamed out in pleasure as that familiar ache curled low in my stomach.
I grinded my pussy harder as my orgasm built up faster than I expected. My breath hitched, my hips jerked as the release hit me so hard I had to grab the sheets just to steady myself. I lay there catching my breath, my body trembling through the aftershocks then let a lazy smile stretch across my face. That damn rose had me cumin’ in thirty seconds max, every time. I pulled it from under the covers and licked it dry, enjoying the sweet taste of my juices. I sat it on the nightstand, making a mental note to clean it when I got up tomorrow but for now, I was spent.
My breathing slowed, but my mind stayed awake, wandering into the same space it always did once the edge of the night wore off. I thought about everything I brought to the table. Not the cute, filtered version people assumed… the real pieces that made me who I was. A flawless face card. Skin that stayed soft and glowing without effort. A body folks swore came from a doctor even though it was pure cornbread genetics. A business I built from nothing but grit, discipline, and a work ethic that scared people who weren’t built like me. A home I paid for, a life I shaped myself, a peace I protected with both hands.
Most men couldn’t handle all that. They tried, but they never made it far. Some folded under my ambition. Some got insecure. Some got sloppy. I wanted a soft-life partnership, passenger princess mornings, being kissed instead of questioned, being fucked right into submission… but that required a man who didn’t shrink when I walked in a room. I thought I found thatonce. He talked right, moved right and could talk me out my panties at the drop of a dime… until he let his ego drag him into fucking with a server I hired. I wanted to drag both of them straight to hell, but my reputation mattered so, I fired her baldheaded ass, blocked him, and kept it moving. He wanted a woman to babysit his insecurities. That woman would never be me.
At thirty, I was a self-made boss, and the truth was simple: it was going to take a strong, fine, grown-ass man to even get close to me. Someone who didn’t flinch at ambition. Someone who didn’t confuse confidence with attitude. Someone who didn’t need me to shrink for him to stand tall. I exhaled into my pillow, the city lights brushing gold across my sheets. Somewhere out there, my Boaz existed and when he showed up, he was going to get the whole package, not the watered-down version. I finally reached for my phone to make sure my alarm was set, and a new email sat bold at the top of my inbox:
Subject: Winter Haven Retreat — Your Reservation Details.
Of course, Bree wasn’t playing. I opened it, scrolling through photos of snow-covered cabins, fireplaces, spa days, and quiet mornings. It looked peaceful in a way I hadn’t felt in years. A week away from clients, deadlines, and everybody else’s needs didn’t sound like running, it sounded like relief. Maybe this was exactly what I needed. Stepping away for once didn’t seem like a weakness anymore. Maybe it was the reset I’d been avoiding.
I set the phone down beside me and let the idea settle in my chest.What’s the worst that could happen?
Chapter 2
Nikolai Frost
