Damage Control

by M. S. Parker

  Baylor’s hand traveled a bit lower. “I’m not much on weddings, but as far as they go…this one was nice.”

  He drew closer, and I pushed myself up on my toes to press a kiss to his lips.

  “Come on.” I reached for his hand. “Let’s have one more dance, then we can get out of here.”

  My dress and undergarments lay on the back of Baylor’s couch.

  I lay in front of them, devoid of everything but the band in my hair trying to contain my mass of nutmeg brown curls.

  And Baylor knelt between my thighs, as naked as I was.

  Eyes closed, I focused on what he was doing...which was when I knew I had a problem.

  He was good at what he was doing.

  I couldn’t fault his technique, and if I could just get my brain to turn off…

  He raked his teeth over my clitoris and heat finally sparked through me. A startled noise escaped my throat as he slid two fingers inside my pussy, twisting them. As the heat turned into a pulse, it made it easier for me to feel instead of think. And I welcomed it.

  One hand closed around my ankle while he continued to play the skilled fingers of his other hand over me, in me, like a particularly masterful musician.

  The bright lights overhead shone too brightly in my eyes, and I closed them to block it out, to block out everything but the feel of his mouth and fingers working me toward release.

  Except, just when I felt the climax pressing closer, he pulled away.

  “Damn it, Bay!”

  He gave an evil chuckle as he tugged me off the couch and helped me to my feet. I sulked, and he just smiled, guiding me until I was bent over, my hands on the couch cushions.

  Yeah, he could smile.

  He wasn’t the one who was so close to getting worked up just now.

  He brushed kisses over my spine, working lower and lower. The gentleness of the touch, the eroticism, brought back the flame that had dimmed when he moved me from one position to another. His fingers stroked between my legs again, and I let my eyes close.

  I heard the rustle of a condom wrapper, and then he was sliding inside. I pushed back on him hungrily.

  I needed this…an escape from my own mind. A break from all of it. And his cock offered me that. It was one of the things I liked about Baylor. He knew where we stood, knew that it was friendship and sex and nothing more. We used each other for pleasure and escape with no other expectations.

  As I ground back against him, he followed my lead, moving faster, rougher, deeper. He was a bit above average in the size department, and better than that, he knew how to use every inch.

  It still wasn’t enough.

  Even as I climaxed.

  But I pretended it was.

  An hour later, lying in his bed, I stared at the ceiling until I knew he was asleep.

  Sometimes I stayed the night.

  Sometimes I didn’t.

  I’d never made it a point of sneaking out though.

  But tonight…

  Yeah.

  Earlier, he asked if something was wrong and I laughed it off because I didn’t know if something was wrong.

  The only thing I could figure out was that something didn’t feel right.

  “Nope.” I stared at my reflection, the bright makeup lights highlighting a crucial fact: smear-proof makeup was a marketing scam. “Something definitely doesn’t feel right.”

  And it was more than my smudged mascara or the lipstick that had long since disappeared.

  I’d put it on for the wedding, counting on it to last through the entire event as well as my after-reception activities. It hadn’t. Hopefully, it hadn’t ended up on Piety when I’d been blubbering on her shoulder on more than one occasion.

  My dress was on the floor. It needed to be cleaned and pressed before I donated it. I’d never wear it again, not when I knew if my mother spotted me in it a second time, she’d give me a thirty-minute lecture on what it meant to be a part of our world.

  Our world did not recycle.

  At the moment, I was wearing nothing but a robe, and the bathtub behind me was steaming hot, the water fragrant from the bath salts I dumped in a few minutes ago.

  A hot bath, a glass of wine, and hopefully, I’d sleep.

  I had all of tomorrow to lay around and mope about how my best friend’s happiness sucked for me. With any luck, I’d mope myself out of this depression.

  If I didn’t, I’d just have to grin and bear it. It wasn’t like I hadn’t done that before. People thought that because people like me had money growing up that we had some sort of idyllic childhood. Not that mine was awful. I hadn’t been abused or even neglected. The poor little rich trope was annoying even to me by now.

  I had no reason to be depressed, not really.

  And I knew these raging feelings couldn’t just be because Piety had gotten married.

  Married.

  I laughed. She was married because of me.

  And just like that, I was smiling. Stepping out of the robe, I thought about my friend and the big, blond Australian who’d stood at her side earlier as they exchanged rings and vows, all that sappy crap I’d pretended wasn’t going to make me cry.

  It wasn’t their first time at the altar. They’d gotten married, while drunk, in Vegas. And I’d been there. I was the one who’d convinced them to do it in the first place. I’d seen something in Kaleb that had made me think that he would be perfect for my best friend. Now they were so happy, they were all goofy with it.

  Sure, things would change some, but she was still my best friend. And when she had her baby, I’d be an aunt. Well, sort of. Maybe Piety would refer to me as a godmother instead. I could work with that. Astra, the fairy godmother.

  The lingering ache of sadness remained, but as I slid into the bath, I felt a little less like crying.

  Reaching for the wine, I lifted it up and toasted absolutely nothing.

  “Change will do you good, or so the song goes, Astra.”

  Two

  Dash

  It was getting dark.

  My head was pounding.

  I only noticed the former because it was aggravating the latter, and when I finally turned on the desk lamp, I glanced at the time.

  Gritty-eyed, I looked from the papers strewn across my desk to stare out the window.

  The day was almost done.

  I’d worked through it.

  I’d made it through it.

  Thank God.

  As memories tried to encroach like angry, hungry little monsters gnawing on my already overworked brain, I got up from the chair. The picture on the edge of the desk caught my attention, and I paused. Picking it up, I stared at the beautiful woman in the frame for a long moment, then carefully placed it face down on the desk. Every so often, I wondered if I should finally put it away.

  I never did.

  Moving over to the French doors, I opened them and moved out onto the deck.

  A few hundred feet off the wide expanse of cedar, the Pacific Ocean roared and crashed into the sand, echoing the chaos of my thoughts. I placed my hands on the railing and closed my eyes. In a couple more hours, the day would be over and then I could pretend everything was normal, everything was fine...for another year.

  Or three hundred and sixty-four more days. Sixty-three. Maybe sixty-two.

  Fuck it.

  I could never really pretend anything was normal. Some days, it was just easier to lie to myself than others.

  Today wasn’t one of them. Tomorrow probably wouldn’t be either.

  But in a week, maybe I could get back to level.

  A wind blew up, whipping my hair back.

  Opening my eyes, I looked back out over the water, watching as the sun sank closer to the deep blue, partially obscured by a bank of clouds that send gold and orange spilling over the sea, turning it to flame.

  We loved to watch the sunsets…

  “Stop it, Dash,” I muttered, turning my back on the horizon.

  We had loved a lot of things.<
br />
  I didn’t like much of anything these days.

  I just…existed.

  Moving back inside, I closed the doors and looked at my desk. The same pile of papers sat waiting. There was so much to get done, and I still hadn’t managed to get through all the red tape.

  It shouldn’t be so hard to set up a center to help people. I had the money. I had the space. I had people lined up to help, and all the media attention one could hope for to make people aware of the center.

  What I didn’t have was the okay to move forward.

  And people wondered why shit didn’t get done.

  “Fuck.”

  It was days like this that made me crave a drink. A drink, maybe something else to help me sleep, but that was a dangerous trap to fall into. Not that I’d ever had a problem with it, but it would be so easy for it to happen.

  I knew that from experience.

  My stomach grumbled, reminding me that it had been a while since I’d eaten. I wasn’t hungry, but my body needed fuel.

  Pausing by the desk, I studied the paperwork waiting for me. There was so much to be done. So many hoops to jump through, red tape to work around.

  Did I have the time or luxury to eat?

  I looked at the picture once more.

  Then my belly grumbled again, and the pounding at the base of my neck seemed to renew its urgency. I had to eat.

  After I did, I might be able to put in another couple of hours. If I didn’t, my headache would keep growing, and I wouldn’t be able to concentrate, which would make not eating so I could work a moot point.

  With that in mind, I left the office, hitting the light behind me. I hadn’t even managed to get a pot of coffee brewing when the alarm system chimed, alerting me to a car pulling through the gates. Moving to the small monitor set up inside the utility closet, I spied a familiar car. Turning, I went back into the kitchen to make a sandwich. Didi knew the code, and with any luck, she’d go straight to her place.

  When I heard the front door open, I groaned, knowing that today wasn’t my lucky day. Not that it was a surprise, today of all days. I should’ve just guessed that Didi would use her key. I heard the click of her heels on the polished hardwood floors but didn’t turn around.

  “Hey, Dash!”

  Staring at the coffee, watching as it slowly filled the pot, I finished chewing the food in my mouth before I answered. I recognized that tone in her voice.

  It was Didi Krauss’s let’s take care of Dash voice. I’d been hearing it often over the last couple years.

  “Hi, Didi.”

  She came around the island and stood in front of me. With me standing half-slumped against the counter and her in a pair of razor-picked high heels, we were almost the same height. She took advantage of it, leaning in to glare at me.

  “You did it again,” she accused me, green eyes snapping.

  “Did what?” I shoved another bite into my mouth so I could have time to figure out an answer.

  But Didi knew me too well. She waited until I’d finished with the messy process of mastication before snatching the sandwich from my hands and spun out of my reach. Her long blonde hair had just settled back into place when she finally answered.

  “Didn’t we talk about you doing something today? Something that involved getting out of the house and not thinking about stuff? You said you were going hiking.”

  “I…” lied. But I couldn’t say that to her face.

  I didn’t have to.

  She could tell, just by looking at me. Sighing, she dumped the sandwich on the plate and moved away.

  I’d eaten maybe half.

  Now I was full. Ignoring it, I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at my friend as she started to pace. I reminded myself that her heart was in the right place. We’d been friends for more than twenty years.

  “It’s not as easy as just getting out of the house and turning my brain off, Didi,” I said softly.

  “Hell.” She huffed out a breath and shot me a look. “I know that. I know that. It’s not like I’ve never had to turn my brain off and sucked at doing that very thing.”

  She moved to stand next to me, and I slung my arm around her neck. She leaned in closer to me, and I kissed her brow, feeling a little less miserable having her here.

  We’d been friends for most of my life. It was easier to tell her things than it was to tell others. It had always been that way. Something about the two of us had always clicked, made it easy to bare everything and not worry about judgment.

  “Did you do anything good for yourself today?”

  “I made a sandwich.” I hugged her a little tighter, then let her go. I picked up the plate to remind her of my accomplishment. “No pickles. You want the rest?”

  “No. I want you to eat it.” With a stern look on her face, she crossed her arms over her chest.

  I’d been getting that look from her at least once a day since a week after we first met, which was the same day I tried to tell her that she was too small to follow me up the tree holding my tree house.

  She’d not only joined me, but she’d threatened to put bugs in my lunch if I ever told her she couldn’t do something. I knew that threat still stood today, so those words had never crossed my lips.

  But I was still stubborn.

  “Not hungry.” I shook my head and put the plate down. I needed coffee. My head felt numb, like I’d been awake too long – and I had. But I couldn’t sleep yet. If I slept now, I’d see it all over again…and that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Will you at least sleep?” Didi’s soft voice had me closing my eyes.

  Without opening them, I reached up and grabbed a mug. “I can’t sleep yet. Later.”

  “Don’t tell me it’s because you’re not tired. I can see it in your eyes. When did you sleep last?”

  Because I knew better than to try and pour coffee with my eyes closed, I stopped trying to block the world out and reached for the pot, pouring the steaming brew into my mug before answering.

  “I’m not sleeping until the day is over with, Didi. I did that last year and…” I stopped, shaking my head. “I’ll sleep better once this is behind me again.”

  Without a word, she moved to stand next to me. As she slid an arm around my waist, I dropped a kiss on her head, grateful that I never had to wonder if things might get awkward between us. Grateful that we would always be like this, no matter what else happened.

  “So…what are you doing? Going blind on paperwork again?”

  “You guessed it.” Heaving out a sigh, I sipped my coffee. “I’m a regular party animal.”

  “What else is left? Anything I can help with?”

  Shrugging, I thought about it. “There’s so much red tape. I’ve got to get government approval, but I keep getting held up there.”

  “Still?” She grinned at me like I’d given her an early Christmas present. “I might be able to help with that. I made a couple contacts recently that could cut through some of that red tape. Specifically, there’s this one senator who might be good to talk to.”

  Easing her away from me, I studied her face. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” She rolled her eyes and reached for my sandwich, peeling the bread away to take the tomato. Popping it into her mouth, she chewed it before continuing, “Of course, she’s back east right now, doing her thing on Capitol Hill.”

  “Yeah.” Absently, I took a piece of turkey from the deconstructed sandwich and ate it. “You know a senator?”

  “I know a lot of people, Dash.” She smiled and leaned against the counter. “I keep telling you I have connections.”

  As she kept talking, I reached for another bite.

  Five minutes later, my hand hit a bare plate, and I looked over to see that the sandwich was gone.

  “Only time I can get you to eat is when I’m distracting you,” Didi said quietly.

  “Please tell me you really do know a senator.”

  Didi smiled and came closer. Cupping my face in her hands, s
he pressed a quick kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Of course I know a senator, you sexy beast.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling my face heat up. “Stop it, you brat.”

  “Oh, hush. You need to hear it from time to time. You’re turning into a hermit. I swear, if you were my type, I’d totally jump you just to remind you that you still have a cock.”

  The heat in my face only got worse, and I focused on my coffee. She nudged me with her elbow.

  “Lighten up, Dash. I’ll call her tomorrow. She’s in DC right now.”

  “You…” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I thought through what she said. “You know her home number.”

  She winked. “Home number. Cell phone. I’m full of secrets, baby.”

  It was another reminder of why I was glad she was on my side.

  Three

  Astra

  The sun shone down on us, a bright, warm day and I was currently enjoying it with my best friend. Piety was back from her honeymoon with Kaleb, and we’d met at one of our favorite restaurants.

  The remains of a Philly cheesesteak lay on my plate.

  Piety hadn’t even left that much behind. She’d gone through a full cheesesteak, two plates of fries, and a salad, and I was pretty sure she planned to order dessert. Her baby bump didn’t seem any more pronounced than it had a week ago, but I doubted she’d be able to get away without maternity clothes for much longer.

  “So. What was it like?”

  Piety looked at me with innocent eyes.

  I wasn’t buying it. She had a glow to her skin, and it wasn’t just because they’d gone to Australia with a stopover in New Zealand and she’d tanned a bit too much.

  She was glowing. Spinning on the side of a mountain, stupid with happy kind of glowing.

  It was almost indecent to be that kind of happy.

  “What was what like?”

  “Oh, don’t give me that bit.” Leaning forward, I braced my chin on my fist and grinned. “The honeymoon. I guess the sex is still awesome. They talk about the honeymoon phase. That can’t be over with. Did he screw you six different ways to Sunday? Did you screw him six different ways? What did you see? What did you do?”