by Aidy Award
I hid my face in Hawk’s chest, relaxing into his strength. He took long strides down the hall, found the room and carried me inside.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
He set me on the bed as if I weighed only as much as a kitten and pulled the blankets back. “A little bit of aftercare. I need to tend to you for a few minutes.”
“I don’t need—”
“You damn women, having to prove your independence all the time. You may or may not need the care, but I need to do it. So, relax and let me.”
I hid a smile in the covers. Out of the two of them, Hawk was not the one I expected this treatment from. He acted all tough as toenails, but he was really a big, soft, fluffy bunny.
With a dick like a God.
Hawk went to the bathroom and I heard the water running. When he reappeared, he’d he gotten rid of the used condom and had a washcloth in one hand and a towel in the other.
“Spread your legs, doll. Let me clean you up.”
I opened my mouth, almost telling him I could do it myself. It would be slightly weird to let someone else wash my intimate places. But what the hell, he’d done a whole lot more with those places than even I had, so I guess he had a right to it.
He wiped softly, my skin was more tender than I knew. This was a whole new level of care and I could get used it. Once I was clean and dried, he pulled the covers over me and rested on his side, curling around me.
“You’re fucking beautiful when you come. You’re beautiful altogether.”
“You’re sweet.” I yawned and closed my eyes.
“I don’t suppose I could steal you away from your boy—” he paused, obviously remembering my reprimand from earlier about what Gray and I were to each other, “from Gray?”
“Thank you for tucking her in. I can take it from here.” Gray appeared at the door. His clothes were back in order and except for a fierce gleam in his eyes and mussed hair, no one would guess he’d given two shits about what we’d all done tonight.
I kissed Hawk softly on the lips and whispered, “I’m not his to steal, but still.”
He smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
Gray cleared his throat and crossed the room. “I’ve got a car waiting downstairs for you.”
“Well, that’s my wham bam thank you ma’am cue to get out of here, doll. I’ll leave my card on the kitchen counter. Call me if you want to do this again... or if you don’t and just want to get away from your Neanderthal.”
He returned my kiss, sneaking his tongue across my lips. I smiled, but didn’t let him in.
I had every intention of watching the interaction between Hawk and Grayson. The next thing I knew, the scent of coffee and chicharonnes filled my nose and I opened my eyes to the morning light.
I was still naked under the covers, so I pulled the top sheet off and wrapped it around myself. I probably looked like the heroine in a romcom movie padding down the hall to have that awkward morning-after conversation.
Gray had lots of framed art lining the walls that I sure as shinola hadn’t noticed last night. It was quite the collection. I recognized some up and coming artists and one quite famous one. Each was preserved under thick glass. I caught my reflection in each as I walked past.
That couldn’t be me. I was a frumpy, mousy thing. Except not this morning. My skin glowed rosy, my eyes were dark and full of sparkle, and híjole, best sex hair ever.
I was transformed. But not only on the outside. That just took me by surprise.
Something new burned inside me that had elements of intrinsic self-worth, confidence, and rebirth.
It would take time to throw off all the old fears and negative core beliefs that had been ground into me, but having crazy-ass ménage sex, on film, was a damn good way to start.
I found Gray in his kitchen making breakfast. I sat down at the counter and watched him. I hadn’t made a sound, but he knew I was there and slid a cup of sweet and creamy coffee in front of me.
“We should—” I began the morning after speech about having to talk about it but was cut off by a spatula held up like a stop sign.
“We’ll talk. But after you eat.” He pulled two plates out of the oven and plopped eggs onto them, followed by the chicharonnes. One plate he set in front of me and the other at the seat next to me.
My stomach growled. I wasn’t about to say no to food. We tucked in and I snuck glances at him, waiting for the right moment.
“Gray—” I started again, only to be cut off by his finger on my lips.
“Angel, look. You were amazing last night. It killed me, but you were so damn perfect in your exploration of that darker side of yourself. I hope you got what you were looking for.”
He thought I was perfect? “I think I did.”
“Good. You should continue to explore what you want from life, from men.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about that. About you.”
“I know. But when you come to me, I want you to be you. The real you. Not the Stepford Barbie rich bitch, but the smart, savvy, sexual woman you were meant to be.”
That wasn’t me. How could he see any of those things in me? I hadn’t gone to college, my father wouldn’t let me step foot in the real estate offices, and hadn’t I just proven I was learning about my true sexual nature? I’d fought to live up to society’s ideals of me, and now I had to work to be what Grayson wanted.
I couldn’t do it, wouldn’t. “I’m not any of those things.”
“You’ve never given yourself a chance to be.”
It grated that he was right. Hadn’t I just resolved not five minutes ago that I was a new woman? Gray’s assessment was the first challenge to that and here I was backing away.
“I am changing, discovering what I want and what I don’t. But I already know I want you in my life.” In my bed. I left that part unsaid. He knew.
We both knew he would be there someday. He said I was the one who needed to grow and find my true self, but there was something else behind those words. Something he didn’t want me to see about him.
He reached for my face but withdrew his hand. “I can’t be what you want.”
He was hiding something from me and wrapping it in a disguise. I knew him, though, and I’d figure it out. Pushing him wouldn’t get me any closer to him. So for now, I’d let it go.
“Maybe not yet, and maybe we need some time to figure out the next step. We don’t have to be in a hurry.”
I set down my fork and slipped off the barstool. Back in the room, I perused Gray’s closet and stole a t-shirt and soft black sweater. My other clothes were folded and laid on a chair nearby, minus my panties. They were probably shredded, anyway. I had lots more at home.
We rode down the elevator in silence, but Gray stood closer to me than usual. When we walked out and through the lobby, he placed his hand on the small of my back and guided me, protecting me.
He took my hand and helped me into a town car. No driver today. Gray would take me home this morning.
He didn’t say anything and he didn’t give me a look. He was back to unreadable, except for his gentle and casual touches. There was a bottle of water on the seat and my phone.
In the light of morning and our conversation, I wanted to avoid reflecting on the night. I couldn’t think about the guys. I definitely couldn’t think about the way Grayson had come, his hand thrusting, while my body pulsed and exploded.
My phone rang, and it was exactly the distraction I needed. I answered without even looking to see who was on the other end of the line.
“Angie, please, let’s talk about this.”
Marc. I’d never noticed the annoying whine to his voice before, but this morning, it was apparent enough to give me a headache.
“There’s nothing to talk about, Sparky.” He hated when I called him the nickname Gray had for him.
What hurt the most wasn’t Marc’s betrayal. All men had a little something going on the side, it was the reality of marrying a rich wh
ite guy. They thought they owned the world, and that included all the women in it. I had been prepared to learn about other women. What pissed me off was that I’d practically begged Marc to do to me what he had been doing to Mindy.
I’d suggested we spice up our sex life and he’d been disgusted. Hadn’t even finished our love making. He’d gone into the bathroom and jacked off instead. Fucking bastard.
“If your shit isn’t out of the house by the time I get home in, oh, a half an hour... I’m burning it.” Mmm. A warm fire did sound nice.
“Where were you last night, Angie?” That cranky I-own-you-voice was coming back.
I never should have let him think he was better than me in the first place. Never again. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I went out.”
“All night? With who? I hope you had Grayson with you.”
I had Gray all right.
“Yes, I had Grayson.” But not the way I wanted to.
“Ange, come home. Let’s talk.”
I hated when he called me that. Not a chance. “Fuck you, Marc.”
“Watch your language.”
Or what?
“I don’t think so, asshole. Get out of my fucking house, stop dicking around with my friends, and go fucking fuck yourself.”
Not a super creative bit of cursing, but I was out of practice. I’d work on that.
“What in the hell has gotten into you?” Marc’s whine was getting higher in pitch with each question.
“Que te folle un pez.” I hung up. I clicked through a few keys, found exactly what I was looking for, and sent my final message to Marc and then blocked his number.
“Did I just hear you to tell Marc to get fucked by a fish?” The smile that had been missing all morning from Gray’s face came back.
“Something like that.” I laughed.
A few minutes later Grayson’s phone rang. I scooted forward to the front of the car and had to cover my mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. Gray had the phone held away from his ear, so we could both hear that same damn whiny tone Marc used to yell.
He let it go on for about thirty seconds before he, too, hung up. “You really sent him a clip of the video of last night?”
“Yep.” Along with a slightly more creative fuck you message. He could use Google to translate it.
“Good girl.”
Yeah, there it was. That was the voice I wanted to hear say those words.
“Dirty, naughty, good girl.”
How was it he knew exactly what I wanted to hear?
“That I am.” It was fully time to embrace it. I’d take my time sleeping around, finding out what parts of sex I liked and what I wanted to try out with Grayson. I knew it would be a while before he was ready, but that was okay. I needed a while before I was ready to be with him. Because when I did, it wouldn’t be a one-night stand. I had some rebounding to do first.
“What’s next, Angel?”
I slid back into the comfort of the seat and grinned at the world, at Marc, at Gray. “Take me home. But tonight we’re going out again.”
Gray chuckled. “Oh fuck. I’ve created a monster in you, haven’t I? A succubus, or Aphrodite, I’m not sure which.”
“And Gray?”
He glanced at me in the rearview mirror like I was about to pounce on him. As fun as that might have been, not yet. “I want you to take me to The Asylum.”
He shook his head, the smile fading. “I don’t know about that.”
Last night he’d been ready to take me. What had changed?
I guess I had.
“I do. I’ve been a goody-goody doing what daddy said, and really it was no life at all. I’m done with that.”
Only the good die young, and I wanted to live.
I wanted to love, too. Real love. Not the Fifth Avenue version of it, but the kind that consumed the heart, body, and mind.
I glanced at Grayson, my friend, my more-than-friends-but-not-quite-lovers guy.
Mine.
But I wasn’t yet his.
I still had some trash to take out anyway. I may have kicked Marc out, but there would be repercussions.
CHAPTER NINE
The Fuck You
Dios mio. I was the scandal of the country club. A broken engagement and whisperings from the biggest gossips to ever see a golf course that I’d cheated on Marc would do that.
I sat at the club’s bar sipping my lemon drop martini. The glares burned into my back from goody-two-shoes and her gossipy friend goody-two-thousand-dollar-shoes. I distinctly heard the words “fat,” and “whore” coming from their tête–à–tête. Their insults only served to make my spine stronger and straighter.
It was the same playground antics. Not like I hadn’t suffered the exact insults since my chubby-cheeked childhood.
These were my people when I was the good little rich girl. When Marc had been cheating on me and I was happily miserable. Now that the truth was revealed, my so-called friends were showing their inner donkey-butts.
I needed new friends.
I needed a new life.
I wouldn’t even be here if my father hadn’t insisted I show myself and deny the accusations. He actually wanted me to make up with Marc.
His golden boy.
What my father would really love is to tell me he was going to cut me off, like all his other cronies threatened to their children.
He hated that I had more money than he did.
Ha.
The only leverage he had against me now was to attack from within the ranks of the social elite I mistakenly thought would be on my side.
A week ago I would have died, then come back and zombie slapped anyone who even suggested I would be happy sans fiancé and my country club friends. Times had changed. I changed.
Today I wore a skirt that hugged my thighs and ample ass, a shirt cut low enough that more than my cleavage showed and an attitude that said “fuck you all, I’m having fun.”
I did my time. Saved face for dear old dad. Now I was out of here.
I took one last swallow and slid my empty glass across the bar. Right when I stood up all the big screen TVs in the club lounge which were set to Sunday golfing, flickered and a dark grainy image appeared.
Everyone, including me, squinted up at the screens trying to make out the blobby figures. Were we being taken over by aliens? World War three?
The person behind the camera moved in and the scene came into focus.
Holy virgin Mary of Guadalupe.
It was Marc...and Mindy. Fucking their brains out.
“Yeah, that’s right Min. You’re my little whore aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll be whatever you want if you just fuck me harder.”
The porno version of Marc grabbed Mindy’s hair and pulled her head back as he grunted like a pig-baboon rutting.
If the tape continued, I’d bet all my millions that you see me on the screen in about two more minutes walking into that bathroom.
I knew because this recording was from the night of my engagement party right here in this very club. I recognized Mindy’s dress pushed up over her back as Marc plowed her ass. I’d picked out the tie swinging around his neck.
I shrugged and took another sip of the sweet liquor. Enough of it would cover the bitter bite of betrayal. A girl needed to see that kind of shit going down with her own eyes. The sight of Marc plowing Mindy’s bunghole would be burned into my brain forever.
That way I wouldn’t make the same mistake.
No need watching what I already knew about. I glanced around the room enjoying the reactions and revulsion on the prim and proper faces of the members. Those I expected. None had the telltale smugness of the one who’d pulled this prank.
Who’d made the recording and put it up for everyone to see?
I had a good idea.
I’d be mad at Gray for not telling me he knew about this betrayal, but if he had, I would have missed the shunning Marc and Mindy were also getting. That made every dirty
look, every whispered insult, and all the fiery arrows poking my psyche from the inside out totally worth it.
Gray was nowhere to be found, but his voice came up on the video. “Too bad you’re such a dumbass, Sparky. Because you could have had this.”
The screen morphed from sweaty gross Marc to...me.
Except I wasn’t gross at all. I was fucking gorgeous. Was that even me? My eyes were closed, head thrown back, and pure ecstasy lit up my face.
He’d done an excellent job of editing the two videos together. Marc was a pig. I was the ultimate sex-goddess.
Still. I was gonna kill Gray.
This was way beyond the sexy photos I’d sent to Marc yesterday. That revenge has felt good. This?
They say revenge is best served cold. I was hot all over.
I swiveled the stool around so I could see every lying sack of shit in the place. Including dear old dad.
The plethora of dirty looks from the club members had me feeling distinctly unwelcome.
There was a great big part of my that wanted to cringe and skulk away in shame.
Yeah. I’d done something the rest of them only ever fantasized about. It was real and raw and rebellious.
Everyone around me was fake and fake and fake.
Fuck them all. I didn’t want to be there anyway.
That’s why Gray tacked my film debut onto the end of Marc’s trashy sex tape. To show me this.
It wasn’t just Marc, or Mindy, or my father who were pretended to love me. There wasn’t a person in this room with a tiny modicum of depth or caring for anyone besides themselves.
How had I been a part of this world for so long?
I hated it.
I hated them.
I hated me when I was with them, being one of them.
I raised the fresh drink someone else had ordered that sat on the bar, toasted the onlookers and sucked down the tasty beverage. A wink to the cute bartender and I threw my glass into the two-hundred-year-old fireplace.
There you go, something else for everyone to gawk at. I walked away from the false ideals of a real woman in my Louboutin stripper-heels I’d never had the guts to wear before, but that were perfect for this particular occasion.