“Fucking, fucking bitch,” he muttered again.
“No, baby, fuck the bitch.” My father had always preached, “Don’t get mad. Get even.”
I told Blake my idea without giving away too many details. And that I needed his help. “I trusted you, baby. Now, you must trust me.”
“I do, tiger.”
After a sweet kiss, he did as I asked and made two calls. Yes! Things were working out.
Sucking in air through his nose, he set the phone down on the bed and asked me to face him. His large hands took hold of my shoulders. He looked anxious.
“Jen, there’s something I’ve got to tell you about Kat. About our past that I should have told you before.”
My pulse sped up and my eyes fluttered. He hadn’t been honest with me?
He took in a shaky breath and on the exhale he simply said, “I got Kat pregnant.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You have a child?”
“No, tiger.” And then a long tense pause. “She had a miscarriage.”
“When did this happen?” Though shocked, I kept my tone even-keeled.
“The summer after high school. We were at some graduation party, and I got drunk. As always, she was all over me. Stupid me succumbed. The damn condom must have torn from her nails, and I guess she was off birth control.”
“Jeez.”
“Jen, she wanted to keep the baby so I would marry her. My parents were up in arms. Rightfully, neither of them thought we should do that. We were too young. I wanted nothing to do with her, and believe me, the last thing on earth I wanted was to be a father at the age of eighteen. Her parents, however, wanted us to marry. The recession had hurt them, and they were going through lean times. If Kat married me, they would no longer have to support her extravagant lifestyle, and they could smooch off my parents, who had protected their investments. So, they supported Kat’s decision. I was fucked. Afraid of a scandal that would embarrass my family, I lied and told her I’d marry her if she kept my identity under wraps until the baby was born. She went along with it, taunting me each day she would break her promise if she caught me with another girl.”
Blake had stunned me in into silence. Wordlessly, I listened on. His voice faltered.
“Six months in and barely showing—her friends thought she’d just gained weight—the bitch went horseback riding.” Blake paused, taking a breath. “She went into labor. My sister was discreetly there for her, but the baby was stillborn.”
“Oh, Blake!” So, that was what Marcy was hiding. I cupped my petite hand over his large one, still splayed on my shoulder. Raw emotion poured through my veins as he went on.
“It was a boy. We had a proper Jewish burial for him and had to name him. Gabriel…after an angel.”
The angel of revelation.
“Just our families attended.” Blake’s voice softened, and he closed his eyes for a long moment as if he were going back in time.
“Jen, I’ll never forget that day and that tiny shoebox-sized coffin being lowered into the earth. My little mistake. As our rabbi recited the Kaddish, the prayer for the dead, it began to drizzle, and the anger I had toward Kat turned inward. I hated myself and grieved for the little boy I didn’t want or would never know. With each shovel of the earth, I grew numb. Kat didn’t shed a tear. At the end of the service, she spat in my face and called me an asshole.”
He bowed his head. “She was right. I was an asshole. A stupid fucking asshole.”
“Blake, look at me.” Slowly, he lifted his eyes. “You’re not an asshole.”
My heart was cracking. This story explained so much of Blake. His fear of relationships. And his baby-phobia. My mind flashed back to the lunch we had last year with Jaime and how uncomfortable he initially was with his twins. And then to his uncomfortable reaction to my pregnancy test. The story wasn’t over.
“After the burial, Kat had a breakdown. Maybe from a hormone imbalance, depression, or guilt. Or a combination of all three. She tried to commit suicide and her parents institutionalized her. A year later, she was released, and the first thing she did was show up at my UCLA dorm and tell me how much she loved me. One night, she even managed to break in, and I found her naked in my bed. I had to get a restraining order. Fortunately, she went to live abroad but returned to LA last fall. Jen, to make a long story short, she hasn’t stopped stalking me. The girl is sick. Poison. I just wish I’d told all of this to you sooner.”
“Why didn’t you?” My voice was tender, my eyes compassionate.
“I wanted to. She stalked me in Vegas and threatened to tell you herself.”
My blood simmered. Did she hit on him?
“I wanted to tell you the minute I came back, but I couldn’t with the way you were feeling. Then, the day you went to see Marcy, she assaulted me again at Saks. I thought she’d gotten to you when I couldn’t reach you. That’s why I flew to Boise. But when I found out about your dad, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I didn’t need to lay this heavy shit on you and upset you more.”
I held his face in my hands and gazed lovingly into his remorseful eyes. He had made the right decisions.
“And then I was going to tell you last night at dinner. And the psycho bitch fucked me over again.” His eyes burnt into mine. “Can you forgive me, tiger?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, my love. It wasn’t your fault. It was a nightmare you had no control over. We just can’t hide things from each other.”
Silently, he nodded in my palms, and I acknowledged him with a smile on my lips and in my eyes.
“Blake, baby, I love you so much. Do you believe me?”
He drew me tight against him, and the hot, passionate kiss he planted on my lips was all I needed.
Fraught with emotion, I lay in bed with Blake until he dozed off. Quietly, I slipped away and booted up my computer. It was time to take the sick bitch down. For all the pain she’d caused me. And for all she’d caused my Blake. I typed away.
To: Katrina Moore
From: Jennifer McCoy
Subject: Meeting/URGENT
Dear Kat~
I am writing you with tears in my eyes. I am completely devastated by the photos you sent me of you and Blake.
You were absolutely right. Blake is still into you. How could I have been so blind? And so foolish for trusting him with my heart and my life?
I have no choice but to end our engagement and call off the wedding. I’ve already given him back his ring. With all due respect for his family, I would very much like to meet with you discreetly tomorrow to discuss how we can best break the news to all involved. I am temporarily staying at a bungalow at The Beverly Hills Hotel, which, at least, Blake had the decency to put me up in. I would appreciate if you could meet me there.
I never thought I would thank you, but I owe you my deepest gratitude. Though sadness fills every crevice of my being, it is better to know now where I stand with Blake than to have had my heart broken by him after our union. I can only hope he does not do the same to you.
With my sincerest appreciation~ Jennifer
I reread my email. I loved writing every single word. With a wicked smile, I hit send. Just like I thought…I instantly got a response.
To: Jennifer McCoy
From Katrina Moore
Subject: Meeting/URGENT
Dear Jennifer—
My heart bleeds for you. What Blake did is appalling and I am partly accountable. In all fairness, I tried to warn you. His feelings for me are strong and real. In fact, he just called me and informed me about your breakup. He can’t wait to get back together with me. He ended the call by saying that I was his first and only true love.
Yes, I agree we should meet tomorrow. Let’s make it 3 p.m. I’ll come directly to your bungalow and we’ll strategize an exit plan. Thank you for trusting me.
Yours truly—Katrina
Perfection! I confirmed the meeting. A fiendish grin whipped across my face. My newest production, Fuck the Bitch, was underway.
It was now time to recruit my co-producer and co-stars. Grabbing my cell phone, I made two calls, one right after the other.
Lights! Camera! Action! Everything was in place. Tomorrow could not come fast enough.
Blake had made arrangements for the bungalow—the same one my parents had stayed at during their visit. It was permanently leased by Conquest Broadcasting and used for visiting dignitaries, investors, and out-of-town producers, directors, and stars. Luck was on our side—it was vacant.
I headed over to The Beverly Hills hotel at lunchtime, leaving my car with the valet. The pink stucco bungalow, located in a very secluded area of the property, couldn’t have been more perfect—consisting of an elegantly appointed living room, bedroom, and kitchenette. Soon afterward, my partner in crime, Libby, showed up. She was beaming with excitement.
“You’re a fucking genius, girl,” she exclaimed, tossing her canvas bag onto the plush Hollywood Regency-styled couch.
“Hope it works,” I replied. “Pussy and her girlfriend should be here any minute.”
Pussy was Pussy Amour, the co-star of SIN-TV’s highly rated prime time show, Private Dick. She had recently created a stir in the porn world after revealing she was gay. To the industry’s surprise, the fact she was a lesbian only helped the show’s ratings. Pussy had some very special talents as did her girlfriend whose name was Swell.
Libby and I were drinking some Diet Cokes when the doorbell rang. I leapt up from the couch to open the door. Sure enough, it was my expected guests.
Pussy, who I’d gotten to know from various conventions, gave me a big hug. I introduced her to Libby and she introduced us to Swell.
Both women were wearing tight-ass jeans, mile-high platforms, and tanks that clung to their planet-sized boobs. Each was a carrying a small overnight bag though they were returning to Vegas in the evening. Bearing a striking resemblance to Pink with their short spiked platinum hair, they could practically be sisters except Swell had piercings all over as well as sleeves of colorful tattoos along her arms.
“Thanks for coming,” I said, ushering them into the main room.
“Anything for you and Blake,” responded Pussy. “Are you ready to take the bitch down?”
I drew in a gulp of air. “Yes, but I’m nervous.”
“There’s nothing to be worried about, honey.” She shot her companion a flirtatious wink. “Come on, Swell, baby. Let’s get ready and set things up.”
Taking their bags with them, they ambled arm in arm to the bedroom. Five minutes later they re-appeared.
“Holy shit!” exclaimed Libby, her jaw as wide opened as mine.
Both women were clad in matching black leather bustiers, fishnets, and stilettos. Tattoos were everywhere on Swell’s body. Pussy had one, too, of a sex kitten by her shoulder.
“I’m so ready for the Pussy-Kat show,” purred the porn star. She let out a ferocious meow and mock-swiped her claws.
I went over the plan with them. Everyone knew what to do. At close to three o’clock, Pussy and Libby flattened themselves against the wall on either side of the bungalow entrance. Swell was in the bedroom. At exactly three, the doorbell rang. My heartbeat sped up. Showtime!
Wasting no time, I swung open the door halfway. Standing before me was Kat, dressed to kill in a tight-fitting designer silk dress that accentuated her D-cup boobs.
“Hi, Kat,” I said in my most despondent voice, even adding in a sniffle. “Let me take your bag.”
With a smug smile, she handed me her monstrous purse and stepped inside the bungalow.
“Where would you like—”
Before she could finish her question, Pussy and Libby ambushed her. Pussy seized her arms while Libby grabbed her stiletto-clad feet by the ankles.
“What the fuck?” she shrieked. “What are you doing to me?” Writhing and kicking, she continued to rant as Pussy and Libby hauled her into the bedroom.
“Thanks for coming, Kat,” I said brightly, trailing behind them, her handbag slung over my arm.
In no time, we were in the bedroom, and Kat was flat on her back on the bed. Libby and I pinned her down while Pussy and Swell worked together to fasten the pink leather restraints on her wrists and ankles.
“You can’t do this to me!” she growled, the restraints quickly in place. “I’ll have you arrested.”
“I don’t think so,” I said nonchalantly as I fished through her roomy bag in search of her cell phone. I found it shortly in the zipper compartment.
“Smile!” I aimed the phone at her and snapped a photo.
She made of face of utter disgust.
I tsk-tsked and shook my head with mock-disdain. “No selfies for you today.”
“Shut up and undo me!” she spat back at me.
“What do you think, girls? Does she look pretty in pink?” asked Pussy.
“Very!” Libby, Swell, and I responded in unison.
“Who are you?” Kat hissed, her green eyes flaring at Pussy.
“Someone you’re never going to forget. And this is my girlfriend, Swell.”
After a succulent kiss, Swell rolled her pierced tongue around her lips and in her husky voice said, “Hi, babe.”
“Oh my fucking God,” Kat cried out, heaving on the bed and trying desperately to free herself from the restraints that were attached to the brass headboard and footboard.
Pussy snickered. “What do you say, girls? Should we find out how pink the bitch’s pussy is?”
“I’d say it’s showtime.” I handed Libby the phone.
“Lights, camera, action!” shouted Libby, adjusting the phone’s camera setting to video while Swell reached for a large pair of scissors on the night table. Starting at the hemline, she began slicing Kat’s dress apart, inch by silky inch.
“What the hell are you doing?” shrieked Kat. “This is a two-thousand-dollar Armani!”
“Well, now, bitch, it’s two-thousand-dollar rag.” Swell grinned wickedly as she tossed the scissors aside and simply tore apart the rest of the dress with her bare hands. The hiss of the shredding fabric was like music to my ears. In a few harsh breaths, Kat was stripped down to her matching black bra and thong.
Kat’s raging eyes met mine. “What’s this all about, Jennifer? Is this just some form of revenge for Blake dumping your sorry ass for me?”
Poker-faced, I slipped my hand into my pocket, and in slow motion, I lowered Blake’s magnificent snowflake diamond ring onto my ring finger as she watched with wide-eyed confusion. A giddy smile lit my face.
“News flash, Kat. Blake and I never broke up.”
“I don’t fucking believe you,” she snorted. “He told me this morning it was over between the two of you and that he loves me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Actually his exact words were: ‘Kat, you’ve always been the one. I love you so fucking much. My cock can’t wait to ravish you.’”
Kat’s mouth fell open. She looked as if she’d been struck by lightning. She had put two and two together.
My eyes narrowed with fury. “You drugged Blake and made it look like he was seducing you. I bet the evidence is still right here on your phone.”
“Give me back my phone, you cunt!”
I smirked. “Can’t. My friend Libby needs to use it.”
She fired a dirty look at my bestie. Libby aimed the phone at her and said, “Smile.”
Kat made a face, her stunning features scrunching with rage.
Click.
“Are we done now?” she grunted.
Crawling onto the bed, Pussy chimed in. “Actually, we haven’t yet begun.”
In one swift move, she tore off Kat’s scanty lace thong while Swell ripped apart her front closure bra and slid it down her arms. A look of terror washed over Kat’s face. Her implants quivered. God, they were big!
“What are you going to do to me?” asked Kat, her voice trembling.
Pussy flicked her tongue just above Kat’s hairless triangle. “Nothing. Ask me what it’s going to look like I’m doing…Eve
rything!”
“No!” shrieked Kat, frantically trying to bolt from the bed.
It was futile. Pussy spread Kat’s long, toned legs farther apart. Holding down her thighs, she buried her head deep between them. I watched while Libby filmed everything on the bitch’s cell phone. Though Pussy wasn’t actually licking Kat or doing anything else, she pretended she was. Pussy, the porn star, was just being a great actress.
Kat continued to scream, her body jerking and arching, and her face contorting. Pussy lifted her head and smiled for the camera and then buried her head again between Kat’s thighs. Soon her partner got into the act, climbing onto the bed and pretending to be going down Kat’s enormous fake boobs. Of course, her mouth never touched down on them, but her moves were effective. Though neither woman was in any way performing any kind of sexual act, Kat was writhing and whimpering. Libby, bless her heart, was filming everything from every angle. I swear, I wouldn’t be surprised if she left her research job at Conquest and moved into production. She was clearly enjoying every moment.
A tortured expression washed over Kat’s face that could easily be interpreted as tortured pleasure. Ecstasy. I kept my eyes glued on her as Pussy whispered something in her ear.
“Yes!” shrieked Kat. The perfect response to Pussy’s inaudible scripted line: “Do you want me to stop?”
Sweat beads clustered on Kat’s face and chest as Pussy repositioned herself between her spread-eagled legs. Her ass in the air, the porn star buried her head back into Kat’s center, and as she bopped it up and down, she hummed. It looked like she was going down on Kat and bringing her to the edge. What an actress! Libby was still capturing everything, shooting the scene from all the right angles. Just like a pro!
“Please!” cried Kat. “Please, please, please.” It just couldn’t be more perfect. Kat sounded as if she was begging to come.
After one more “please,” Pussy pulled away and Kat let out a giant sigh of relief. Her body went slack.
Yes, yes, yes! With a wag of a finger, I signaled to Libby to stop shooting. We had what we needed. My production classes at USC had really paid off.
THAT MAN: Holiday Box Set Books 1-5 Page 54