by T L Swan
“Oh fuck,” she whispers, the shock on her face evident, and she pulls up her drink menu. This is something I don’t want to see, the room is suddenly suffocating and I need to get out of here, like now. I watch as they enter and walk over to the stairs with the red rope. They have been here before, they know the drill. He is with six other men, all in suits. I don’t know any of them but one looks like his bodyguard, actually yes it is, it’s Ben. A bleached blonde walks over and talks to them, and I watch in slow motion as Joshua gets out his wallet and hands over his credit card. Oh dear god, no. They are going upstairs to the VIP room. I feel sick. I want to run over and stop him. To beg him to come home with me because I know if he goes up there I can never touch him again. It will have gone too far to go back. Silently in my head I start to pray, don’t do it baby. Please don’t do it. I start wringing my hands together under the table and I have broken out into a cold sweat. The group of men all bundle up the stairs as soon as she unhooks the rope. Just as Joshua is about to take the stairs he stops as he notices something and looks towards the stage. My eyes flick to the stage to see what he is looking at. The policewoman is now on her knees fucking the prisoner with the baton. My eyes go back to him. No. I watch in horror as he clenches his jaw and cracks his neck—he’s aroused. The pain of watching the man I love become aroused by another woman, or two in this case, is crippling and I put my head down onto the table unable to speak. Bridget rubs the back of my head, unsure of what to say. No, I need to see this. I look back up as he calls the blonde back over and lights a cigarette. Huh, he smokes now? I watch as he says something and gestures to the stage. She nods and smiles. Just when I thought this nightmare could not get any worse, I watch as he runs the backs of his fingers from her throat down between her bare breasts and down to her G–String. He rims his fingers around the inside of the waistband and gives them a jerk before he lets her go. With his cigarette between his teeth he says something and she gives him a filthy smile before he turns and heads up the stairs. I’m in shock, did that just happen? I look to my dear friends, and their faces say more than words. Bridget grabs my hand and Abbie rubs my leg. There are no words for this situation, no words at all. I put my hand over my mouth—I think I’m going to be sick.
“Tash, let’s go baby,” Bridget whispers. “We have seen enough.” I shake my head, still unable to speak. I shake again. I don’t want to leave him here. I don’t want him to wreck it. “Tash, come on, we have to go.”
I look at the girls again. “I don’t want to leave him here, please don’t make me,” I whisper. The act on stage finishes. The crowd goes wild and the girls both bound up to the bar to get a drink. Blonde bimbo says something to them and they both smile and head up to the VIP room, obviously at Joshua’s request. My heart drops lower than I ever felt possible. Bridget has had enough she is getting mad.
“He’s a fucking prick, Natasha, just leave it. You can do a lot better.” I know they are right. If I cause a scene I will never forgive myself. It is with deep regret I allow my friends to scrape me up out of my seat and lead me out of a place that will haunt me forever, a place that has my heart splattered all over the table. A place where I saw his other side.
We sit in silence in the back of the cab, everybody too afraid to speak, determined not to say the wrong thing.
“Where to ladies?” the cabbie asks.
Before anyone can speak, “The nearest McDonalds,” I say flatly.
The cashier is cheerful and happy, “What will it be?”
“A super–sized Big Mac meal with Coke. An apple pie and a chocolate sundae, extra salt on the fries.” I look back at my friends who are both wisely staying silent, pretending to look at the menu board. Operation slim down is officially over.
Chapter 5
It’s been four days. Four days of nothing since I saw him go up the stairway to hell. My mind is torturing me with visions of him with those two girls and what went on upstairs. The way he touched the blonde one with the backs of his fingers. Every time I close my eyes, I see it and it kills me. The way he smiled at her with the cigarette between his teeth, the way he cracked his neck. That’s the worst one—it rolls my stomach. I feel sick at the thought. A broken heart is lonely business, and no one can take away the hurt. I feel so alone. I haven’t left the house other than to work, haven’t slept. I have however eaten everything on the southern side of the planet; there’s a lot to be said for comfort eating. I am full–stomached and empty–hearted. The emptiness is overwhelming. As I wait for the bartender to serve me my drink I notice Bridge and Abbs discussing a man standing next to me at the bar. I roll my eyes and shake my head at them. Determination doesn’t come close to the scheming these two are doing tonight. We are at the Ivy, our favourite nightclub, and I am pimped up to the nines. I’m in a tight charcoal strapless dress and black stiletto ankle boots, their choice of course. I feel like Prostitute Barbie with my hair all out and full, not to mention the hooker makeup they have applied. They both want me to pick up a random guy and have a one–night stand. I have been forced to listen to the benefits of this for two frigging days. They think I am only under the influence of Joshua because he has been my only one, which is probably true. I told them if they find a guy who can get me hot then I will do it. However, I know this is not an easy feat. If it was I would have done it years ago. Apparently it should be someone I don’t know, but the thought of that scares me a bit. What if I get back to his house and he’s a serial killer? There are a few guys who I do know and sort of like and I know like me, maybe I should do it with one of those. I can’t believe I am even considering this. I sound like Abbie. She knows she will have sex later that night—by lunchtime that day, it’s totally preconceived. The poor bastard she picks is in for it, whether he likes it or not. Though I’m sure he’s not complaining. Can I really do this? I shuffle forward in the line at the bar while I think. Let’s recap, I haven’t had sex in seven years. I think I’m in love with a total asshole who fucks multiple strippers at the same time. I close my eyes as I imagine the orgy. The human imagination can be so cruel. I shiver in contempt. I need to move on, and I think the girls might be right. I do need to take control of my life and I intend on doing it tonight. How in the hell am I going to get through it? I look around the room for divine intervention as I take a deep breath. Alcohol, that’s the ticket. If I get drunk enough maybe it will take the edge off, calm my nerves so to speak. My turn comes around and I shuffle up to place my order.
“What will it be?” asks a pretty girl with massive boobs. Um, am I really going to do this? Oh shit, fuck it.
“I’ll have six Tequilas please.”
I look around at the women seated around Ben and me at the Ivy on the deep leather lounges in a half circle. We have been here a few times—it seems Adrian’s club of choice. I’m not a fan really, the woman are all desperate and money–hungry. They can smell my wallet from a mile off, attractive enough though. I smile at Ben as I listen to the two girls either side of him compliment his accent.
“Ben, you sound so gorgeous when you say that, can you say it again?” My eyes roll. God, why does he tell them his real name? I rub the side of my pointer backwards and forwards over my lips, my elbow resting on the arm–rest as I listen to the small talk. I take a sip of my Cointreau and ice. I really would rather go, this redhead next to me is annoying as fuck.
“So do you have an accent?” she gushes.
“No, I don’t.”
“Do you live near here?”
“No,” I answer again, deadpan. I can’t even pretend to be interested, in fact I’m being quite rude. Ben flashes me a dirty look; he’s obviously interested here. I frown as I rub my eyes—where the fuck is Adrian? He drags me here then pisses off, fucking typical.
“So you live in America?” she asks. I nod as I take a sip. This is unbearable. I’m going to the bar, as anything is better than sitting here with this idiot. I stand and walk to the bar without an explanation. I’m not going there. Ben is on hi
s own with this one. Adrian finally appears through the crowd and walks over to me. He takes my drink from me and sips my Cointreau. I scowl at him, and he gives me a devious smile over the rim of the glass.
“Natasha’s here.”
My eyes go wide. “What,” I snap. “Where?”
“Downstairs dancing.” Before I can stop myself, I am striding towards the stairs. Adrian is running beside me like the personal assistant that he is.
“Did she see you?”
“No,” he shakes his head. My heart has started racing at just the mention of the fucking bitch’s name. I stop on the stairs and Adrian runs into the back of me.
“Ow, what are you doing?” he snaps.
I turn to him, “Did you know she would be here?”
“No, I hoped,” he smiles. “Bridget told me they often come here.”
“When?”
“At the wedding.”
I tilt my head. “Why?”
“Because you haven’t slept or eaten since we saw her in the restaurant on Tuesday. And you’re a total nightmare to be around.”
“Fuck off. Excuse me if I don’t want to play happy families with her new boyfriend.”
“He’s not her boyfriend, I already told you this. Who do you think you’re speaking to? I know you better than anyone,” he snaps back.
“Fuck off,” I mutter as I continue down the stairs, two at a time. We arrive at the lounge next to the dance floor and I go straight to the bar. I’m not up for this shit tonight. I need another drink to temper my sexual attraction for her before it becomes an addiction. Whatever you call it, it’s a fucking nightmare. Adrian comes up beside me. I can’t even look at her—my nerves are shot.
“Do you see her?” I ask softly, as I keep my eyes face forward.
“Yes,” he smiles. As I hand him his drink he points with his chin. “She’s over there with Bridget and another blonde girl.” He cranes his neck and does a low whistle, “Fuck, she looks hot, Josh.” With that comment I can’t help myself, I have to look. I turn to see her laugh out loud with a carefree flick of her hair and my insides melt. I love the way she laughs. I miss the way she laughs. Those dimples do me in, every time. She’s perfect, my eyes swipe down her from head to toes. Looks hot is the understatement of the year—she looks fucking edible. My cock immediately twitches to attention. Why in the hell does she affect me like this? She’s wearing a tight dress that shows every curve on that beautiful body, and those tits. I haven’t seen her dressed like this before—she’s asking for it. Actually she may be begging for it by the end of the night, either that or begging me to stop. I smile as that thought crosses my mind. My eyes drop as her long muscular legs demand my attention in those sky – high boots. Boots that belong around my ears while I bury myself deep inside that beautiful tight… This isn’t good. I rub my face and turn back to the bar. Seriously fucked–up shit going on here. This is unbearable. I need to get the hell out of here before I do something that I will regret. Something that will entail her being bent over the bar while I take her from behind. Hard. Where did that come from? I rub my forehead as a cold sweat breaks my brow. I can feel my willpower slipping inch by inch, moment by moment. The brain in my cock overtakes the gears of my brain, too much blood in one part, not enough in the other. Shit.
“Go and talk to her,” Adrian urges.
“Are you kidding? No.” I glance back as she turns her back to me and starts to dance. God that ass, fuck me. What I could do to it. My cock gets harder. This happened at the wedding, and the last time I saw the bitch. Just the sight of her and I could orgasm. My heart starts racing again at the thought of what sex would be like with her. Fuck, it’s almost primal. My eyes flick back again, the urge of ownership over her that fills me is disturbing. I need to go home before I drag her kicking and screaming out of here.
I’m well on my way to drunken heaven by my fifth drink and fourth shot. I think I will be unconscious before I’m able to come through with the goods though. I’m finding it hard to even dance with men, knowing what the night might hold. How do people do this regularly? At this point in my life, celibacy in a monastery is alluring. And the men. Seriously, is this the best we’ve got? Not a single person here interests me. Todd, a guy we know, is paying me extra attention. I think he is scenting action, either that or my suspicions tell me Abbie has told him I like him. Liar. Why is he so short? Actually he isn’t that short—it’s just that I’m attracted to Amazonian men, six foot two being my cut off, or maybe six foot four like Joshua. Stop it, you idiot. Todd has started following me around and dancing a little too close. He keeps talking to me and because it’s so loud he has to talk into my ear. He keeps lingering a little too long after he speaks, waiting for a reaction. How in the hell do I get out of this? I’m starting to feel uncomfortable. I head to the bathroom to try and gain some distance and give myself time to think. As I sit on the toilet with the lid closed I give myself a pep talk. Come on, Natasha, snap out of it. It’s now or never. I do suppose Todd is as good as anybody, at least there is absolutely no chance of falling in love with the dick. And, anyway, even if Josh did want me, do I really want to live my life having slept with one person? That’s just stupid, really stupid. I finish up and wash my hands and it’s with the last thought in my mind that I look at myself in the mirror. He doesn’t want you, Natasha, move the hell on.
Thirty minutes later with a serious pep talk from Abbs under my belt I find myself dancing with Todd. We have moved across the whole dance floor towards the back wall, as he keeps moving forward and I keep moving back. I can’t help it. I’m really trying, but I’m just not into him at all. Just when I think it can’t get any worse he slides his hand down the length of my arm and grabs my hand. I look down at our entwined fingers and I know I have to make a decision. Sink or swim Natasha, what’s it going to be? He moves in for a kiss but I duck my head and he rests his lips on my forehead.
“Natasha, look at me,” he puts his finger under my chin to bring my face up to his.
“Fuck off!” I jump back in shock. My eyes widen as they fly up to Joshua who is breathing heavily and glaring at Todd. “I said Fuck off!” he repeats. Oh shit, impeccable timing, where did he come from?
“Joshua, stop it,” I stammer. Immediately my heart races at the sight of him. Todd goes to grab my hand, but I pull it away.
“Don’t, Todd,” I shake my head. Abbie is aware of the impending situation and quickly comes to my rescue, grabbing Todd’s hand and leading him away.
And there he stands, all 6 foot 4 inches of male perfection. Testosterone is obviously coursing through his veins as he sucks in precious air to try and calm himself. And here I stand, absolutely off the charts thrilled that my knight in shining armour has come for me. The smile on my face is nearly beaming off my face. He grabs me around the waist and jerks me to him.
“You find this funny?” he snaps.
“Yes,” I smirk. That sounds ridiculous. I should be mad, I should be fuming. What I am is thoroughly thrilled. Just the sight of him, no wonder I’m not attracted to anyone else. He’s beyond beautiful, even when he is acting like a psychopathic maniac. He pulls me close and wraps his large arms around me, then he puts his lips to my temple.
“Stop making me act crazy,” he whispers as his hands clasp the back of my waist.
“Act crazy, you are crazy.” I do wide eyes at him to accentuate my point as I smile.
“And that is funny because?” He looks puzzled.
“I attract crazy people Josh.” The alcohol is finally starting to kick in and I find myself woozy on my legs.
“Were you going to fuck him?” he snarls in my ear. I step back, shocked and hurt that he would think that, although it could have been true. I shake my head.
“Liar,” he snaps. His voice has dropped several degrees. He snarls again. “Tell me,” as he gives me a jerk.
“Josh, stop it, let me go.” He’s beginning to frighten me. I try to pry his hands from around my waist. “Stop it,”
I repeat.
“So you want to be fucked tonight, do you?” he whispers in my ear as he grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back. Goose bumps scatter over my body as his breath blows onto my neck. He jerks me again. “Answer me.” My eyes dilate as I look at his lips. I can’t help it, I slowly lick my lips and look back up into his eyes. Yep, alcohol’s taken the inhibitions alright, too bad it’s with the wrong man.
“Kiss me,” I whisper.
He stills. “What?”
“Kiss me,” I repeat.
“That’s not a good idea,” he whispers.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because if I kiss you I won’t be able to stop.”
“Then don’t,” I whisper again. Oh no, dog on heat act 2 happening here.
“If I kiss you, in about two minutes you will be flat on your back on the bar with those sexy little boots around my ears, while I fuck you so damn hard you won’t remember your name.” Mmm that sounds good. I look to the bar as the visual picture rolls in my head. My breath catches and I slowly look back at him. He narrows his eyes at me.
“You like the sound of that?” he frowns. I slowly nod and smile as I bite my bottom lip, and my blood heats further. The next thing he is on me. I’m pushed up against the back wall as his tongue dives into my mouth. His grip on my hair is painful, as he moves my head to bite my neck. His magnificent strength takes me over and his hand runs down the length of my body and moves up my skirt hitching my leg around his waist. I am losing all coherent thought and the word hoe rolls around in my head as I imagine what we must look like. People talk about girls who do this in public. The backs of his fingers skims my G–string, and he breathes heavily into my ear. Once again he takes my lips in a seductive slow pattern as he slowly slips his fingers under my G–string and rubs the backs of his fingers through my dripping wet sex.