Too Good Girl

by Eleanor Lloyd-Jones

  Trent grabbed my hips and pulled me onto the bed. “Come back here, you little minx.”

  “No. I’m going home.”

  His laughter rang in my ears. “Like fuck you’re going home. We’ve only just started.”

  “Trent, get off.” I shrugged away from him but he held on tighter dragging me across his body so I was straddling him again. I resigned, huffing out a small breath and looked at his face intently. I reached out and traced the line of his jaw, his brow and down his nose. I let my fingers draw the lines of his lips and complied when he opened his mouth for me to slide it inside so he could suck it. He was so handsome, so why wasn’t I feeling anything? Why was the idea of lying in bed fucking this man until I was sore not causing me to throb with need?

  He bucked his hips gently and grinned. “See. You want to stay.”

  “I don’t want to stay.” The words came out as a whisper and I smiled sadly pulling my finger out of his mouth and leaning down to press my lips to his.

  Give me something: a twitch, a pulse, anything.

  He reciprocated, lifting his head to intensify what I was begrudgingly offering. His hands smoothed up my legs and cupped my arse. It felt nice, but it didn’t feel sexy.

  He whispered against my mouth. “Let me make you cum.”

  I whispered in response. “Okay.”

  Wrapping his arms around my back, he flipped me over, laying me gently on the bed, and climbed on top of me, his hips flush with my hips, his strong arms holding him up above me. He kissed me again, and I closed my eyes, desperate to fall into him and feel that euphoria that I knew should wash over me at being here with this beautiful man.

  He moved from my mouth, dragging his lips over my chin and down my throat. I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as he took a journey across my chest and exploring my breasts, sucking and swirling before licking a trail down my torso and across my belly.

  I focused on breathing.

  I focused on the warmth of him.

  He reached further and lifted his head.

  I opened my eyes to see him grinning at me, right before he slid two fingers inside. Winking, he dipped his head and the soft wetness of his tongue flicked up my centre and circled my clit.

  I focused on breathing.

  I focused on the warmth of him.

  He worked his tongue gently, over and over, invading with his fingers as I winced at the pain and cried silently for all I’d lost—all I’d pushed out of my life.

  I cried silently for Jack.

  Syra

  I’m a Ruin by Marina And The Diamonds

  Don’t Go by Hanna Georgas

  I WOKE UP at the sound of my alarm, my body shivering and my muscles aching. I glanced at the time on my phone and sat bolt upright. “Shit.”

  The snooze button was going to get me fired.

  Within half an hour, I was walking back through the doors of The Release having slept most of the day, and was greeted by a surly-looking Amber. I walked past her, not wanting to engage in any small-talk, but she followed me closely, her arms folded across her chest.

  “Where did you go last night?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Home.”

  “Before that. Don’t play dumb.” She skipped ahead and stopped in front of me, blocking my way. “Where did Freddie take you?”

  “Amber, I’m late.” I moved to go past her but she slid to the side, blocking me again. “Seriously?” Again, I attempted to get past her, but she was persistent.

  “Were you booked?”

  “Yes. Move.”

  “Who booked you?”

  “Amber, I’m serious. Move out of my way.”

  “Who booked you? Tell me and I’ll let you go.”

  I halted and looked up at her, a smirk on my lips. “I’m sorry? You’ll let me go?”

  “Yeah. I’ll let you go if you tell me who booked you.”

  The cocky expression on her face matched her body language, and I sneered at her. “Amber, I apologise if I have given you the impression that I will allow people like you to order me around. I can assure you I don’t need you to let me do anything. Now move.”

  She remained stoic for a few moments before huffing and moving to the side. I strode past her with purpose and made my way to the dressing room. It was empty aside from a couple of girls whose names I hadn’t learned yet, and I grabbed what I needed quickly, applied my makeup and headed to the bar area.

  “Pushing it, aren’t you?”

  “Sorry. Stupid alarm didn’t go off.” I gave Freddie a quick smile before washing my hands and moving to the back to empty the dishwasher.

  “Hey, chill out. I’m only joking. So. How was it?”

  “How was what?” I knew what he was referring to, of course, but my heart beat a little faster at the secret I knew I was going to keep.

  “How was being booked? Your first taste of fame at The Release.” He leaned against the shelf and looked at me, and I avoided his gaze.

  I shrugged. “It was okay I guess. Took home a few tips, had my arse grabbed.”

  I didn’t see his frown, but I felt it. I was sure he wasn’t naive enough to think that with me dressed like a playboy bunny the odd groping incident wouldn’t happen. “It was fun. Interesting to see how the other half live.” I pulled out more glasses, stacking them on the tray. I continued to avoid looking at him and cleared my throat. “I don’t suppose Doug will be partying tonight though, Sunday night?”

  “All weekend, every weekend, but now your face has been seen up there, I’m sure other punters will book you in. You’re going to end up being a busy girl.”

  I stopped and stood up. “So other groups can book me on the same night?”

  He nodded. “You can be working up to three booths at a time, unless someone pays extra for exclusive use of a barmaid that is. We have the odd customer who likes that—the impatient ones.” He stood straight and shoved his hands in his pockets. “However, until we get that call, you’re all mine.” He grinned and walked off, leaving me to occupy my mind with wiping surfaces and chopping up fruit.

  I didn’t expect Sunday evening to be quite as busy as that one turned out to be. There was a steady flow of customers downstairs until around eleven, and then the hard partiers began to burst through the doors. I became anxious in a way I couldn’t explain. The night before had been a surreal mix of the sublime and the awkward, but inside of me was craving to do it again. I had no idea who Doug hung out with; I had no idea if his friends were a tight-knit group or if he brought different people each night.

  The reckless and desperate in me hoped it would be the same group—hoped Trent would be there to use me, and so I could use him. He was beautiful to look at, and demanding enough to make me feel empty.

  I lost hope a little when midnight came and went and I hadn’t had any sort of instruction, and when Clara came jogging down the staircase with her coat and her bag, lifting her hand in a wave.

  “Clara, wait.” My voice sounded urgent and I covered my embarrassment with a smile at the customer who was waiting for his drink.

  She didn’t stop, shouting back over her shoulder and over the noise of the place. “I’ve got to go, Emilia’s woken up with a fever. Catch you tomorrow.”

  I watched her leave as I allowed the pint glass I was filling to overflow and spill all over my hands.

  “Shit.” I jumped back, dropping the glass to the floor and swearing again as I bent to pick up the large shards.

  “Jesus, love. You okay?” The guy waiting leaned right over the bar, peering at me as I reached up and fumbled in the sink for a cloth.

  “I’m fine. Thanks. I’ll just be a minute.”

  “Take your time, love.”

  I grabbed at the broken glass, chucking it into the corner until I had time to sort it later, and mopped up the beer from the floor.

  “What’s taking so long?” A new voice floated over the top of the bar had me freezing in my cr
ouched position, my heart taking off, my mouth drying up instantly at the familiar deep, velvet sound.

  “Poor lass dropped a glass all over her. She’s picking up the bits. Here. You have this one. I’ll meet you at the table.”

  A silent plea seemed to struggle to escape my strangled throat.

  Don’t go.

  I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, pretending I’d imagined it—pretending I didn’t know it was him—but I couldn’t stay on the floor forever. I stood slowly, keeping my back to the bar as I dumped the cloth in the sink and gathered my strength. My lungs were full, but I couldn’t empty them. My fingers shook as I reached up to grab another glass, and my desire to walk away almost beat me.

  I turned slowly, keeping my eyes to the floor until it was impossible to not lift them.

  He’d gone.

  I released the air in my lungs, holding the glass under the beer tap and pulling the lever. My heart finally began to slow down but leaving a sick feeling of despair in its wake. When the glass was almost full, I lifted my eyes again to smile at the customer and then heard the voice again.

  “Syra?”

  Over the guy’s shoulder, a few feet away walking back towards the bar, he was there.

  He was there.

  He was tall and broad and handsome. His ocean eyes were confused, and his brow was pained.

  I licked my lips.

  I dropped my head.

  I waited for him to reach the bar and slid the pint across it to his friend. “That’s seven sixty, please.”

  He didn’t say another word.

  He stared at me as I took the money, ringing it all through the till.

  His eyes bore into the side of my head, they made a hole and they pierced through my thoughts.

  “Um. Am I interrupting something here?” The other guy looked between us, taking a large gulp of his pint as I handed him his change. “Cheers, love. Dude, do you know this chick?”

  There was a moment then, when I made the mistake of making eye contact and my whole body rushed with the most intense heat.

  He was there in front of me and I was powerless.

  “Jack.” His friend waved his hand in front of those eyes I seemed to be lost in and broke the spell I’d been hit with. “Come on, dude. Let’s go.”

  I turned away.

  I turned away because there was nothing to say to him.

  I moved to the ice bucket, picked it up and pushed through the door into the back corridor, sliding to the floor and falling apart.

  I missed him.

  I missed my friend, but I’d hurt him.

  I missed my friend, but I didn’t deserve to.

  ***

  It took me twenty minutes to pluck up the courage to go back out there. Freddie was looking for me, Amber was pissed off and I couldn’t remain self-indulgent any longer. After a trip to the toilet to wash my face and calm down, I went back to work, pleased that the crowds around the bar were preventing me from seeing more than a few feet in front of me. I threw myself into batting my eyelids and flirting with the punters, earning myself a few more tips, and spent the following half an hour ridding my thoughts of Jack and the way he’d looked at me.

  “Sy.”

  I glanced over at Freddie, half an eye on the drink I was pouring, and he smiled, waving his clipboard at me. “What? Now?” I glanced at the clock on the opposite wall. It was just after one am. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “Doug is on his way.”

  A dance of relief jumped in my stomach as the previous night’s release flashed before me, and I finished serving my customers quickly. Wiping my hands I walked the few steps over to him and he opened the door for me to follow him.

  “It’s late.” I looked up at him, a nervous bite of my lip causing his eyes to drop to my mouth. “Or early, depending on how you look at it.”

  He shrugged. “It’s Doug. He makes his own rules. So there are only eight of them today. Less work.”

  “Fewer tips.” I climbed the first stair ahead of him and ran up the rest of the way, arriving at the door to the stock cupboard before he’d even got to the top. He finally reached me, and I moved out of the way for him to unlock the door.

  “You know what you’re looking for, right?” He was closer than I wanted him, so I backed into the small space.

  “Yep. Thanks.”

  “Okay.” Freddie leaned against the doorjamb and frowned. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

  “I’m fine.” I crouched down and pulled out the same box he had done the night before, standing and ripping open the plastic packet. “These must cost him a fortune when we wear a brand new one each night.”

  “You’re not okay, are you?” He stepped forward and cupped my shoulder. “You know, I’m a good listener. If there’s something bothering you.”

  I bit back my default response, and shook my head. “It’s fine. Thanks though.”

  He nodded and leaned in, placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth, causing my fists to curl and my eyes to squeeze tight.

  “I’ll leave you to get ready and meet you out there.”

  I didn’t reply. I turned my back to him and began unbuttoning my shirt. I could feel his eyes on me and held my breath until I heard the door close. He needed to get the message from me that I wasn’t interested in whatever it was he was seeking. I was not about to start being careless with anyone else’s feelings, especially not Freddie’s. He was a decent guy and didn’t deserve to be caught up in my shit.

  No one deserved to be caught up in my shit.

  Jack didn’t deserve to ever be caught up in my shit, but he’d ended up wrapped in my net, and then I’d lost him. He’d struggled free and broken the line. However something about the look he’d given me at the bar told me he still had my hook in his mouth and that would never do.

  He’d left for a reason, because I was hurting him.

  I was toxic.

  He didn’t need toxic.

  I fastened the bottom two buttons on my shirt, ripped off some tape and made myself acceptable for Doug and his cronies.

  Once I’d got my instructions from Freddie, I nipped behind the bar and set about polishing glasses and cooling the champagne. Zach approached the bar with his hands full of empties, and he gave me a nod before moving off to collect more. A girl I didn’t know was manning the bar in Clara’s place. I avoided her eyes and sneer and concentrated on the job in hand.

  “Y’know, I don’t know if you think you’re something special, but you’re not.”

  My head kicked up. She was slicing lemons and limes, her eyes downcast.

  “Just because you’ve been booked within your first week doesn’t mean you can swan around here like you own the place.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve seen how cosy you’re getting with Freddie. I’ve seen how you act with the punters: all eyelashes and dimples. You have to earn your place here y’know. The boss? He keeps an eye on us all, and when he finds out you’ve been allowed to be—”

  “The boss? You mean Doug?”

  She stopped and put her knife down. “Yes. Doug.”

  “Ah.” I lifted my eyebrows and continued to polish.

  “What’s that look for?”

  “Nothing.”

  Her hand was on my shoulder pulling me to face her before I could take my next breath. “I said, what was that look for, skank?”

  My eyes widened. “What did you call me?”

  She dropped her hand and folded her arms across her chest, head cocked to the side, eyes looking me over with disdain. “You’re running on luck, love. As soon as D—”

  “As soon as Doug gets here, I’ll be waiting his booth—” I stopped and frowned. “Sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”

  Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Doug booked you for his booth?”

  “I’ve got stuff to do.” I turned back to polishing and practically heard the hate pouring from her.r />
  “Why?”

  I sighed. I was already tired of this shit. I’d never been around lots of girls for any length of time before, and I wasn’t enjoying it one bit. At the supermarket, most of the people I worked closely with were guys since I did a lot of the stock work. Aside from Clara, who seemed pretty normal in my book, the ones I worked with now were not brilliant adverts for them. “Why what?”

  “Why you?”

  I shrugged. “Why anyone? Because he wants me and not you, and not Amber or anyone else. Who knows.”

  And I didn’t know. I had no idea why Doug was singling me out, bending his own rules for me and treating me differently than the others. Why was he demanding I work his booth each time he was here with his friends? It didn’t make any sense, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to question him.

  The sound of bottles clinking together signalled the barmaid’s retreat, and as I placed the last clean glass on the tray, the noise of Doug’s party began to drift up the stairs. It wasn’t as loud as the night before, gentle chatter mostly, but I knew it was them because I heard Trent’s laugh.

  My thoughts hissed with a certain relief. I was going out of my mind tonight and my addiction was screaming for mindless sex. I needed to lose myself in the pain and the numb feeling of being essentially used for someone else’s pleasure. I needed to get Trent’s attention and I needed to forget Jack.

  I caught Doug’s eye as he passed the bar and headed to his corner of the room. He nodded and then led his posse in the direction of what promised to be another night of debauchery.

  With the ice bucket filled and the champagne cooling, I dragged air into my lungs and made my way in the same direction, ducking behind the curtain, setting the drinks down and bending to pour champagne into each one. I glanced up and caught Trent’s eye. He winked of course, and I bit down on my lip. I knew the tricks, and I knew I’d snagged him for the night.

  As previously, I spent a couple of hours back and forth, filling up drinks and taking orders, and it wasn’t until three am that I was invited to join them.

  I did, of course, despite everything.