by Virna DePaul
I’m just a means to an end for him. Once he gets the part, he’ll be gone.
Standing in the ballroom, I watch Simon smile and laugh, his golden hair sparkling in the candlelight. I’m flooded with every feeling in the book, and one in particular almost sends me to my knees.
I’ve fallen in love with him.
It hits me like a bolt of lightning. I don’t want to believe it. I want to tell myself that I’m overreacting. But deep inside, I know it’s the truth. I take in a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. It’s like the entire ball has disappeared, and it’s only me, standing here, wishing that Simon would look at me.
Wishing that Simon would love me.
“Rissa!”
The voice is drunken, slurring, and—for God’s sake—when I look up, Charles is in front of me, his face red. He tips back his glass of champagne and then, to my chagrin, belches.
“Rissa!” he says again. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
I take him by the elbow because he’s making a scene, but he won’t budge. “What are you doing here?” I hiss.
“Got an invite from…uh…can’t remember who. But does it matter? I heard you were coming and I had to talk to you. Rissa, why didn’t you go to lunch with me that day? I want to make things right. I love you!”
To my horror, I see tears in his eyes. He’s almost yelling at this point, and it feels like everyone in the ballroom is staring at us. I look frantically for Simon, but he’s nowhere to be found now. Where the hell is he?
“Charles, this isn’t the place to talk. Come on, let me call you a cab and you can sober up.”
He yanks his arm from me like an angry child. “No, you’ll listen to me! You never listen to me!” He finishes his champagne, and then, seeing that it’s empty, sets it down on the ground before sitting next to it.
“Get up. Don’t do this.” I try to pull him up, but it’s no use.
I decide to walk away, but he just follows me on his knees. Will this nightmare ever end?
“Rissa! Rissaaaaaaaaa!” He grabs my arm. “I’m sorry about sleeping with my secretary. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have cheated on you. It was wrong.”
Now I know everyone is looking at us. I pull my arm away and just keep walking. Maybe I can lure him into the street and a car can run him over.
He stands up and follows after me. “I mean, you weren’t great at sex and I hated that, but I should’ve worked it out with you.”
We’re outside now. I’ve given up looking for Simon. I’m about to hail a taxi when Charles says, “But you know, it didn’t help that you were so frigid. You never wanted to do anything I wanted.”
Anger bursts inside of me. I push him, and he yelps. “Go to hell, Charles. I wasn’t frigid. You were just shitty at sex. Maybe you should learn what a clitoris is before you go around accusing women of being frigid!” I know my voice is too loud, but I don’t care. I don’t care if the entire city hears me.
His eyes widen before his face turns red. I know that look: he’s about to say something awful.
“I don’t know why you’re acting like this. Do you think any other man would want you?” He sneers. “I’m the best you’re going to get, Rissa.”
It’s like a dagger to my heart. I shouldn’t let him hurt me, but that doesn’t stop the tears from filling my eyes.
Am I just a nothing to everyone? Not worth anything?
Then I hear someone coming down the steps, and there’s Simon. He’s enraged, his fists clenched, and he punches Charles square in the jaw. Charles goes down like a light, moaning.
“How dare you,” Simon says, his shoulders heaving. “Say that again and I’ll wring your neck, you piece of shit.”
Charles groans and moans, cradling his face. “You hit me!”
“Yes, and you deserve twenty times worse.” Simon turns to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Are you all right? I couldn’t find you...”
The tears start flowing. He pulls me to his chest as I sob into his tuxedo.
“We’re leaving.” He tells the doorman to bring his car around. We step away from Charles, who’s still on the ground, whining and threatening to call the police.
Thankfully, the car drives up within record time, and Simon ushers me inside. As the driver pulls away, I’m still crying, but the sobs aren’t as intense. I feel so stupid for getting upset.
Simon runs his fingers through his hair before loosening his bow tie. “What a disaster this evening turned out to be.”
I sniffle, and he hands me a hanky from his pocket. Smiling, I wipe my eyes, trying not to dislodge any remaining mascara. I probably look like a raccoon, though, with mascara tracks down my cheeks and my makeup all smeared.
“It started out well,” I say, my voice croaky. “But I guess our exes just couldn’t let us be.”
He laughs, the sound bitter. “That’s the truth. Then again, I can’t blame Charles completely.”
“Why not?”
“Because if I’d lost you, I’d lose my mind, too.”
I start trembling. The constant mantra of the last few weeks rings in my mind. Is this real? Or is this only for show? I pull at the hanky, almost shredding it in my distress.
“Can I ask what Janelle said to you?” he asks gently, taking the hanky from me before I destroy it. “I saw her talking to you while I talked to Spires and Noble. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you before then. They wouldn’t let me go, and I had to smooth things over.”
Once again, I’m reminded of the truth: this is all a business deal. I can’t even blame Simon at this point. I’m the one who fell in love with him. He told me from the beginning this could never be more than a façade.
I shake my head. “It wasn’t important. She was just trying to be nice but coming off catty.”
He gives me a look like he knows I’m lying, but he doesn’t press me. Instead, he envelops me in a hug, and I let him. I need his arms around me. I know I shouldn’t let this go any further, but I don’t care. At this point, I just want any time I can get with him.
Because this is all ending soon, isn’t it?
Fresh tears spring to my eyes. The thought of parting from him cracks my heart in two.
Nothing Charles or Janelle can say matters: it’s Simon who matters the most. He’s somehow found his way into my heart, and I can’t let him go. I bury my face in his lapel. I inhale his scent, hoping I can commit it to memory.
“Do you want me to take you home?” he asks against my hair.
I find myself shaking my head. “I don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Of course.” He pulls away, but only to smooth my hair away from my face. I’m sure I look like a mess, but he doesn’t comment on that. “You looked beautiful tonight, by the way.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” I say with a smile.
“You’re making me blush.”
The banter warms my heart. But as I’m sitting there, my arms still around his neck, I look into his blue eyes and all I want is for him to never stop touching me. I never want to leave his embrace.
I tangle my fingers in his hair. “Kiss me, Simon? I need you to kiss me.”
His eyes flash in the low light. His hand glides down my naked back. I shiver at the touch.
“Kissing you will always be my absolute pleasure, Marissa.”
I moan low in my throat as our mouths meet. I don’t know who moved first, but suddenly I’m on his lap, and we’re touching each other all over as our lips press and our tongues tangle. His hand dips below my dress and I’m touching his hair, his face, skimming my hands down his chest. I can feel him growing hard underneath my ass. I wiggle, and he curses against my mouth.
He cups my ass, squeezing the globes, and I bend to hike up my dress, exposing my barely there thong. When he realizes my ass is naked, he squeezes it again before spanking it lightly.
“Naughty girl,” he says, “is that all you’re wearing underneath this dress?”
I nod. “No
bra, either.”
He groans, and I can’t help but laugh a little. He kisses me, hard, and I’m close to unbuttoning his pants and having him right then and there in the car when we stop.
I scramble off of his lap, pulling my dress down, just as the driver opens the door.
“Where are we?”
For a moment, Simon looks confused, then apprehensive. “The driver must have taken us to my place.”
“Oh fun! I haven’t seen where you live yet.”
Simon winces. “Yes. Fun, indeed.”
I step onto the street only to freeze in confusion. We’re parked in front of a…biker bar? Strains of AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” are wafting through the air, and there are various unsavory characters in black leather and chains hanging out outside, inspecting our limo as if they’ve just seen a unicorn. I have no idea where we are.
I give him a questioning look.
He shrugs. “It’s a far cry from your ritzy neighborhood, I know.”
I grin. “I like it. It’s surprising but real. Edgy and adventurous.”
His expression relaxes. “Is that right? So you’re in the mood for even more adventure tonight?”
“Definitely, so long as the adventure only includes the two of us.”
“Well, then. I’ll have to see what I can do about that.” He grabs my hand and then tugs me up the rickety stairs on the side of the building, stopping to unlock his apartment door. He pulls me inside and immediately presses me up against the closed front door. I have only a moment to take in the worn-down interior and modest furnishings before he’s kissing me until I can barely breathe.
15
Marissa
As Simon kisses me, I never want him to stop. I can barely catch my breath as he presses me against his front door, his hands cupping my breasts through my dress.
“I want you,” he growls against my throat.
Words have escaped me. I just nod and he kisses me, pinching my nipples through the thin material of my dress. I groan. I’m already wet, and he could take me against the door right this second if he wanted.
But sensing that this wouldn’t be the most comfortable spot, he picks me up and carries me to his bedroom. I hold onto his neck, breathless, and then I laugh when he unceremoniously tosses me onto the bed.
I bounce a little on the mattress, which unlike the rest of his furnishings, appears to be a first-class model. “Quite a nice bed you have here,” I say, not even caring how stupid I sound.
He gives me a look. “Just wait until I’m inside of you.” He tears off his jacket and begins unbuttoning his shirt, but curses when he can’t unbutton it fast enough.
I stifle my laughter. Kneeling in front of him on the bed, I help him with the buttons. Seeing that I’m occupied, he finds the zipper on my dress. I shrug it off, revealing my bare breasts and thong. He groans, looking at me.
“You’re bloody gorgeous.” As I get the dress off, he tosses it onto a nearby chair, which normally I would’ve protested considering how expensive it was, but at this point, I don’t care.
He pushes me back onto the bed, his mouth on my breasts. He plays with them, kissing and sucking and nipping, and I start begging him in a hoarse voice. I beg him never to stop, to be inside me, for anything and everything. I don’t care what he does. His hot mouth travels down my body, kissing me. But then he sits up, unbuckling his belt and taking off his pants in record time. His hard cock bobs in front of me.
I take it in my hand, stroking it. He curses. I lick at the moist tip, swirling my tongue around, and I can feel his body trembling. But he doesn’t let me play for long. He lies on the bed and then has me kneel, with me facing his cock.
I’ve never done this before, I have to admit. Suddenly I feel self-conscious, having Simon’s face so close to my sex. But when he licks me, all of my insecurities melt away. I groan against his cock, feeling his tongue delve through my folds. He laps at me, and I can hear him smack his lips as he tastes me.
I begin to taste him as well. I stroke his cock, which hardens even more underneath my palms. It’s long and uncircumcised, and although I never would’ve thought this about a man’s cock, it’s beautiful in its way. I take the bulbous head in my mouth, suckling it. I hear him groan. It only spurs me on.
We play with each other like this until I can feel myself trembling. He presses a finger into me and then another, tonguing my clit relentlessly. I begin pushing myself against his mouth as I continue to suck his cock in my mouth. I take a breath and press his cock further inside, almost brushing the back of my throat with it. He bucks underneath me.
“Fuck, I can’t wait any longer,” I hear him say. He twirls me around and I have to laugh at how easily he maneuvers me. He kisses me wildly, and we taste each other. He pulls away briefly to grab a condom from the table next to the bed. Getting off the bed, he takes me by the hips and pulls me to the edge.
I’m on my knees, wet and desperate for him to fill me. Gripping the comforter, I groan as he presses his cock against my soaked opening. This position makes me feel every inch of him. For a moment I’m not even sure he’ll fit. But then I feel his pelvis pressed against my ass, and I wiggle.
He spanks me. The sound makes a loud crack that echoes in the room.
“I told you I’d fuck you like this, didn’t I?” he says, pulling out before shoving back inside me. “I told you I’d fuck you as I smacked your delicious ass, didn’t I?”
I can only moan and try not to scream in response. The sharp pain of the smacks coupled with his cock inside me sends me into another place. He thrusts in a relentless rhythm and my body tightens like I’m a spring about to release.
I lean down on the bed, my breasts pressed against the blanket. He slaps my ass again.
“Dirty, naughty girl,” he breathes. “Who knew my girl would love to get fucked like this?”
I moan. Charles never talked to me like this. But I love it. I look back over my shoulder at him, and it only fuels my own pleasure at the look on his handsome face.
I can feel his rhythm getting jerky as he starts to come. My body tightens and tightens, all the blood in my body pooling below, and I know my orgasm will be cataclysmic. Extraordinary. I push against him and he shoves one last time inside me. I burst, screaming into the bed. I’m shaking as his cock jerks inside of me. It only extends my own orgasm.
He lightly spanks my ass one last time before pulling free. I collapse onto my side, and he joins me shortly thereafter, his arms around me.
“Damn, that was great.” He breathes against my neck, and I must admit, I preen a little at his praise. I’m not so frigid anymore, am I?
“You weren’t too bad yourself.” I turn over so I’m facing him. He’s still wearing one sock, and when I look around the room, I see our various pieces of clothing tossed everywhere. “Is your tie on the lamp?” I ask.
He looks behind and then laughs. “Well, we were in a bit of a hurry. At least, I was in a bit of a hurry to get inside you.” He caresses my side; I shiver.
Simon kisses me and strokes my body and then proceeds to kiss me all over, from my toes to the top of my head. When he enters me, I’m practically writhing on the bed, desperate for him. Even though I want him to go faster, he keeps up a measured, almost painful, rhythm that only drives me crazy. But when I start arching against the bed, I can tell he’s about to falter. All of a sudden he’s driving into me and we’re both coming at the same time, yelling to the ceiling.
I wake up knowing I’d had the best sex of my life. I glance at my phone and see it’s nine o’clock in the morning. Simon’s asleep still, and I sit and watch him for a few moments. His golden hair is tousled and I can see a shadow of a beard on his face. He looks younger, asleep like this. I touch his cheek, the one with the scar, and his eyelashes flutter. When he sees me, he smiles.
“What time is it?”
I tell him, and he yawns, stretching like a sleepy lion.
“Simon, how did you get your scar?”
/>
He stiffens and doesn’t appear like he’s going to answer.
I immediately pull away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry.”
He catches my wrist, pulling me back toward him, then sighs even as he leans forward and kisses me softly. “It okay. It’s just—it doesn’t have pleasant memories for me.”
“Oh. Were you—were you attacked?” The idea of someone hurting him, possibly even having the chance to kill him, makes me tremble with fear. Simon’s such a good man. I love being with him—no, that’s not exactly true. I’m in love with him. And as much as that scares me, I just can’t deny the truth of it, either.
“I wish that were the case,” he says grimly.
I blink. “What?”
He falls back and rubs his palms over his face. “I got into some trouble. Wholly my fault. I got involved with some rough kids and, well, you know yourself how cocky I can be. I picked a fight. One I lost. It was a mistake, and this scar, it’s a constant reminder of that mistake, of how I should never think too highly of myself. Because in the end, we’re all a product of our upbringing.”
I frown, confused about his statement he shouldn’t think too highly of himself and uncertain what he means by being a product of his upbringing. He hasn’t shared anything about his childhood or his family with me. All I know is his sister Dana is a waitress at my family’s country club. I look around at his meager apartment and wonder if maybe his family had fallen upon hard times or something. If that’s the case, I wouldn’t care if they’d lost everything.
“We all make mistakes,” I say. “Regardless of our upbringing.”
When I don’t go on, he pushes himself up on one elbow. “You’ve mentioned past mistakes before. Past mistakes your mum won’t let you forget.”
I nod. Hesitate. Then decide that since he’d shared something personal, I could be brave enough and do the same thing. “I was a wild teenager. Reckless. I partied. I slept around. Not very well, I know, considering I’d never had an orgasm or given a blow job before you, but I definitely wasn’t the good girl you know me to be,” I add, trying to make things less serious.