"You look nice," I told her, stepping into the apartment.
And she did look nice enough, her skinny but big-breasted body showed off in thong panties and a push-up bra under a sheer, floor-length nightgown of some sort. Whatevs. Not my thing.
"Thanks," the woman purred.
She took my flowers and put them in a vase in the kitchen and came back to join me in the living room with a glass of scotch for me and red wine for herself.
"You look a little tired," she cooed, sitting next to me on the couch. "Maybe you shouldn't work so hard." Amanda poured herself some wine and put the bottle on the coffee table. She leaned back and crossed her legs, strategically taking a deep breath so her boobs practically popped from the lace. Those red lips widened into what she probably thought was a seductive smile, but instead, the woman looked more like the Joker. Really fucking scary.
"I don't mind." I downed the scotch in one go. "It's work I enjoy."
But Amanda wasn’t listening. Like she ever does. Instead, the female leaned close.
“So, big boy. What do you want to do this evening?”
The woman was practically in my lap now, her hands trailing at the sleeve of my blazer, smoothing the fabric over my thick arm. Those nipples stood up hard and tight under the lingerie and she grinned diabolically, literally showing her teeth.
How long could I sit here and pretend I didn’t know what she wanted from me?
Short of taking off her skimpy little outfit and opening up her legs, Amanda was doing everything to let me know she wanted to fuck.
Why this change of heart all of a sudden?
Because since day one of our engagement, she’d been telling me about wanting to wait until our wedding night to have sex. And now, the female was hot and heavy and just about ready to start the show all by herself. Time to get a few things out in the open.
"You're an attractive woman," I said noncommittally as Amanda pressed her boobs into my chest. "But I thought you wanted to wait until after the wedding to have sex?"
The woman leered.
"I changed my mind. Isn't that a bride's prerogative?"
What? No. Not when I was sleeping with her daughter. But there was no sense in giving that away.
"Yeah, sure." I sipped my scotch and watched her, my own face expressionless. But I swear, that woman has the instincts of a snake.
"You're different these days," she cooed, stroking my chest through the shirt. "You used to be so cold all the time, so untouchable. But there's something about you these days that's frankly hot as hell. I decided not to wait until after the preacher gives us permission before I sample your goods." Her hands dropped to my lap to squeeze my bulge. "You're a sexy mofo, Jake. I just never really noticed before."
Oh really, never noticed? More like I started fucking her daughter, and she could sense it in the air, even if she didn’t know for sure. Fuck. What a mess.
I let her stroke me for a few seconds, just to see if I could get into it and fool myself. But no, my snake stayed asleep.
"Naw, no go. I’m tired,” I said dismissively. “Maybe it's all the energy I've been putting into building up my company here in New York. It drains a man dry."
The woman frowned at me like she didn't understand why I wasn't throwing her down on the couch and ramming my dick into her pussy. Shit, I didn't even understand it myself, not entirely. Lacey was too young, so I should be going for this instead, right?
But instead, my expression remained neutral.
"I'm very committed to my business, as you know."
The woman leaned away, watching with surprisingly perceptive eyes. Amanda may have been a big, slutty blonde, but the female didn’t get to the top of the food chain in New York real estate just by giving good blow jobs.
"Things are still on track with us, right?” she asked slowly. “You haven't changed your mind about the wedding?"
To be honest, I was having doubts. Serious doubts. But no sense in telling her if I wasn’t sure. So I shrugged.
“Yeah, we’re on.”
That was a curt reply for sure. Not exactly the words of a man in love. And Amanda’s eyes narrowed, green and cat-like.
“Is that the truth? Because it looks to me like you’re not as into it as you were in the beginning.” She gave my cock another squeeze but backed off quickly. “I can tell so don’t bother to deny it.”
That was true. Because when we first agreed to get married, I’d been into her. Her dick-sucking lips, hot body, and mature woman’s experience got me going in no time flat. She was just my type. Older and sexy, not interested in having more kids. MILF to the max.
But then, after weeks of flirting and teasing, Amanda pulled that crap about waiting until after marriage. I just about lost my shit. We were both in our forties. We’d both fucked a lot of people before so sex was no mystery. Why hold back like some precious virgin? I was convinced she was playing games, angry as all get-out.
But when god closes one door, he opens a window somewhere else. And whaddya know, but then came Lacey. Seeing her daughter was just the thing.
Except now, there are complications.
Huge complications.
Fucked up tangles that I’m still trying to wrap my brain around.
Except that I haven’t figured it out yet, so may as well go with the original plan.
"We're still good for getting married," I reassured the blonde. “The wedding’s still on.”
But the thing is, I wasn’t attracted to Amanda anymore. I only wanted her daughter. Sweet, innocent Lacey who got my motor running like no other female, young or old.
But Amanda was relieved.
“Good,” she said. “This marriage is just as valuable for me as it is for you. So don’t screw it up, and we’ll be back on track,” she added sharply.
Then the blonde stood and stretched, showing off those curves. Unfortunately, they did nothing, leaving me cold.
But Amanda is a manipulator, and she didn’t care, not really. With a shrug of those narrow shoulders, the sheer robe slipped off her body. “You can have all the second thoughts you want, so long as you get it up for me tonight. Are you man enough to do that, big boy?”
What the hell? Why was the woman doing this? I thought we’d reached a truce.
But the blonde couldn’t be stopped. She turned around to show off her ass in the thong panties, wiggling this way and that. Gross, that ass was flat as a pancake, even a little saggy. You can’t fight the years, and compared to Lacey, this woman was skinny and dried out.
But a man’s mind goes where it wants. Because even though it was fucked up, I imagined Lacey in Amanda’s place, standing in front of me in the same outfit, turning around so I could see her thick ass and lush curves.
And shit, but the blood rushed to my dick.
“So you can get it up,” Amanda purred, gratified. “You can do it, big boy.”
She climbed back on the couch and started crawling towards me like a cat. But no. Hell no. I stood and moved away, distant and forbidding.
“I can get it up fine, I’m just not in the mood,” came my dismissive reply. Buttoning my blazer, I nodded curtly. “We can stick to your original plan and just have a hell of a wedding night. I’m all for that,” came the glib lie. Yeah right. Our wedding night was gonna be hell for sure, but the bad kind, that much was clear by now.
The blonde opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind, snapping it shut instead. Trembling, those thin fingers reached for the wine bottle once more, pouring herself a full glass before downing it in two gulps. Shit, the female was so sloppy. Red liquid splashed on her chest, smearing her lips and making her look like the Joker all over again.
“Right,” she cooed, voice raspy from too much smoking. “I’ll see you at the wedding then.”
My nod was curt once more.
“At the wedding,” came my grunt.
And I left then, closing the door softly behind my big frame. Shit, the situation fucking sucked. Because l
eaving the apartment, images of Lacey danced before my eyes. I’d just turned down a hot MILF in favor of a sweet, innocent teen. But that was against my best business interests. To make it in this city, I needed Amanda’s connections. I needed her contacts, to meet all the people who were worth meeting in the real estate world. And Lacey had none of that.
So why did my chest ache? Why was the air burning in my lungs? Fuck, life was so fucked up … but I’m a billionaire who knows how to make a buck, and the wedding was still on.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lacey
My life is ruined.
Nothing went the way I'd planned that night with Jake.
When I asked Jake to drink his cum from that bowl, I thought he’d run the other way screaming, never to come back.
But that clearly didn’t work because we just ended up going at it again. And again. And again.
Oh god, why is this happening? But the answer’s clear. I’m well and truly crazy for that man, completely head over heels. And not crazy in a good way. Mostly bad crazy because he’s my mom’s fiancé.
Tears blinded me as I stumbled forwards. But there was no choice. I’m dropping out of school because it’s just a waste of money now. I can’t concentrate on work anymore. Papers? Like I could write one. Problem sets? Straight Ds. Nothing in college made sense, words blurring in front of my eyes, the professor’s lectures a steady “wonk wonk” of nothingness.
So yeah, I’m out.
It’s sad, really.
All that tuition, down the drain.
All that homework, coming to nothing.
And for me? The community I’ve built? The friends I’ve made? The hours of studying? Put on pause, for now at least.
But I have to count my blessings. Aunt Jill is giving me a place to stay until I get my head on straight. I haven’t told her anything because what could she say? It’s more like she’d kick me out if she knew about this thing between me and Jake.
So feet heavy, I trudged to the door.
But Jenna and Denise tumbled in just as I was leaving. They looked terrible as well, like they’d been crying their hearts out.
"Are you sure we can't change your mind?"
Jenna immediately wrapped her arms around me. Tears streamed down both of our faces. I’d already confessed everything, but my friends were just as confused as me.
Denise flopped down on the bed with a pile of letters and mailbox flyers in her lap. She wasn't taking it as bad as Jenna, thank God.
"You don't have to do this, Lacey,” she said staunchly. “You could stay with us while you figure things out. We can help."
I gulped.
“Thanks guys, but it won’t work. You guys have your own lives, and I’d just be a drag.”
But my girls weren’t persuaded.
"This just seems so extreme, Lace. Dropping out? Are you sure?" pressed Denny. “Are you completely sure?”
And I broke down then. Because of course, I wasn’t sure at all. I wanted to stay, but at the same time, my life was falling apart on a much bigger level. The break was needed, if only to get my head screwed on straight again.
So I took a deep breath.
“I’m sure, but I’ll be back,” came my wobbly smile. “You can’t keep me down.”
And all three of us hugged tearily.
“Atta girl,” the ladies chimed. “You go.”
“Thanks guys,” I smiled again, sniffing. “I really appreciate it.”
Just then, my phone beeped with a message that my cab was waiting. "I have to go." Picking up my rolling bag, I leaned forwards for some more hugs.
But Denise pulled away quickly.
"Oh, almost forgot," she said. "Here." She pressed some envelopes into my hands. "Your mail. I was supposed to give it to you yesterday, but you know, with everything going on …." The brunette looked just about as sad as I felt.
Because I was losing everything I'd built, and it sucked. My life at school, my friends. My self-esteem and my sanity. All because of one giant mistake. My tears started to fall again, throat clamping tight.
"Thanks guys, gotta go," I croaked.
"Bye," Denny replied, eyes watery. "Let us help you with your bags." She grabbed the rolling case and Jenna took the heavy purse from my shoulder.
Downstairs, the cab was already waiting. I hugged my friends goodbye again and climbed into the car. Slowly, the vehicle rolled away, and I looked out the window, eyes blurring. Would I ever be back? Would I ever finish my education?
It was impossible to say.
Talk about thwarted dreams.
I’ve never been a big career woman, but still. I had a life here, real friends, and a community. And one big mistake had sucker punched it all. But there was only myself to blame.
Listlessly, I plucked at the stack of envelopes in my lap. There were fliers for the grocery store next door, plus a charity event at a nearby fraternity.
Not for me, anymore.
Fraternity or no fraternity, I wasn’t a student any longer.
I didn’t belong.
Swallowing my sob, my eyes blurred again.
But then I saw it. At the bottom of the mail pile, there was a heavy cream-colored envelope with raised flowers on the edges. My mother’s name linked with Jake’s on the back. Holy shit, holy shit. Their wedding invitation. It was really happening, not just some made-up thing from my imagination.
I cried out from the sudden pain and slapped a hand over my mouth to smother the sound.
The driver peered at me in the rearview mirror.
“You all right, Miss?”
No. I would never be all right. But sometimes you have to pretend just to survive. So I smiled back weakly.
“Yeah. I’m fine,” was my tortured gasp.
But no, I wasn’t fine at all. With trembling hands, I opened the envelope. The wedding was tomorrow. Even though I already knew that, seeing the date in black and white letters knocked me on the head a good one.
My mom and Jake were getting married.
They were really doing it.
Tying the knot, until death do them part.
Oh my god, oh my god! What did that mean? Crazy thoughts spun me around as nausea rolled in waves, making my stomach turn.
Married.
The two of them.
Sharing the same bed.
Limbs locked together, shuddering with pleasure.
Jake doing the same things to my mom that he had done to me.
And yet, it was supposedly right for them to do those things. My mom was the right woman, not me. Amanda was the one, not me. In fact, if people knew, they’d think I was pure evil.
Bile rose in the back of my throat, and I keeled over in the seat, moaning.
The driver slammed on the brakes and the cab lurched. “Girlie, you don’t look too good!” He swung around the face me, concern in his brown eyes. “You want me to pull over?”
But we were practically pulled over already and blocking traffic to boot. I shook my head furiously, still moaning, when all the envelopes tumbled off my lap except for one.
The name leapt out in big block letters.
SAFE HAVEN – A MENTAL HEALTH COMMUNITY FOR EVERYONE.
The address on the envelope was just outside of the city. Easy to reach by taxi. I was trembling too much to make sense even to myself, but by then my mind did a hard left.
“I’m sorry,” I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and shoved the envelope with the address at the driver. “But can you take me to this location instead, please?”
He looked at the envelope and then shot me a glance of surprise and concern. And they said New Yorkers were all assholes. “Are you sure about this, honey? You know, this is a place for crazy people.”
I laughed hysterically, drawing another look from the poor dude.
“The thing is,” I stammered, barely getting the words out between chuckles. “That I am crazy! I’m a crazy person, and that’s where I need to be!” My words ended on a high-pit
ched yelp, eyes rolling in my head.
The driver shook his head, snapping around to face forwards. I’d scared him.
“Okay, whatever you want, Miss,” and with that we were off, pedal to the metal. No one wants an insane person in their backseat.
Meanwhile, I sank into the cushion, the fake leather smell overwhelming. Was I doing the right thing? Unfortunately, yes. Nothing I’d done in the last few months was sane. I’d made bad choice after bad choice. Not only that, but my morals needed to be adjusted and my mind put back on the right path. Hell, I needed to find my morals, not just adjust them. It was time to set things right.
And eventually, we pulled up to a tall glass building in the middle of nowhere. The structure looked like any corporate business office, square and nondescript. But this was an insane asylum for sure because there was a high fence around the grassy, green grounds. As I stared, the air fizzled above the fence, dancing before my eyes. Of course. It was electrified so you couldn’t escape.
"Are you sure still?" the driver asked me again slowly. "I can take you back into the city if you want. No extra charge,” he said, eyeing a guard who was obviously packing, a telltale bulge under his armpit.
The offer was tempting, but I had to be strong. Drawing a deep breath, I shot him a watery smile.
"It's okay. Thank you. This is where I need to be anyways." Pressing money for the fare into his hand, I got out. And the driver shrugged then.
"Good luck, girlie," he said as the car rolled off. "I get the feeling you'll need it."
Boy, would I need it. Once the cab disappeared, I squared my shoulders, back straight before approaching the guard.
"I'm here to check myself in." My suitcase handle nearly slipped from trembling fingers, nerves making me shake uncontrollably. But gripping tight, my expression didn’t change. This was going to be my life from now on.
And the guard shrugged, pressing a button. Slowly, the gate swung open, dark and scary like a raven's wings, ominous and foreboding.
Oh god, oh god, did I really belong here? Stepping forwards, my foot faltered. Maybe there was another solution. Maybe I could redeem myself somehow, do good deeds and make up for my past. Maybe I could go to church and beg for forgiveness.
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