We share a look, and he offers his hand. “Perhaps we should move on.”
I take his strong hand before we both inhale. We then glide past the statues and run into the night.
2
HARRISON
It is the first time I’ve felt alive in months. Since selling my brownstone in NYC. Since heading back upstate to build the media, motion picture and advertising conglomerate. And since deciding NYC must be the media capital of the world, again.
Not places like LA, Canada, or the UK, where all kinds of media, movies and entertainment are now being created.
My aim is to help finance media, movies, and to fuse entertainment with advertising. To make financing media and movies safer, and to remove almost all risk.
I had stopped having sex because it didn’t fire me up anymore. It had lost its edge. I had shunned the urge to give in to it.
That was then, andthis is now.
As we run quickly across the small and dark, wet town, I take another look at her.
She has wavy dirty blonde hair, brown eyes, and one of those cute button noses. She is cute, likely in her late twenties, and her energy is calming. She moves confidently; she is curvy and hot. She also has a cute as fuck fringe.
I’m more used to skinny catwalk types, but she is on another level, even if she looks like she doesn’t really try.
Her lips are so kissable, and her full breasts are making me hard again just thinking about them.
I’ve mostly dated West Coast types, but I’m sick of plastic Barbie models. I also bedded a fair percentage of Manhattan while living there, clubbing, and wasting my twenties.
Wasting is not a hundred percent accurate.
I created three of the biggest film and media companies in the US, and I am still the CEO of them.
Thunder rumbles, and we both look up as more rain comes down. Headlights catch us, and a horn blasts loudly.
“Come on!” I yell, grabbing her hand.
We cut down an alley off the street, and I can hear the jock thugs making chase again.
Running is not my style, but I have her with me now.
I feel like a coward, but there is a time and place for everything. I still need to come in her. Fighting can come after that. A long time after.
Reaching the end of the alley, we peer out. A jeep is waiting in the distance, and I recognize one of the bloodied jocks from the bar.
I pull on her hand, and we cut down another side alley. I am losing interest in this bullshit cat-and-mouse game fast. If we find a safe place, I am in.
We stick to the shadows, moving fast. Her eyes are big, and she looks nervous.
“Relax, you’re with me,” I say, low.
Reaching the end, we ease out. The jeep, and now another car turn, both heading our way. One is at each end of the dark, wet street. There are no law enforcement types around and no people out in the storm. There is, however, what looks like a high-class hotel across the road.
If we make it inside and they have a room…
“Come on!” I growl as I run and yank her hand.
The girl stays close, and she doesn’t trip. As we get closer, lightning flashes, so I grab her for safety. It is wet, it is slippery, and it is bad timing.
The vehicles race down the street towards us, and the entitled, polo-shirt-wearing morons yell loudly.
