Rock Bottom

by K. Webster

  Once he releases me, he pads over to the bed and climbs in as if choking, threatening, and forcing your fiancée to perform sexual acts is no big deal. Fuck me, this is bad.

  After the longest, hottest shower of scrubbing his semen off of my face and hair, I put on a strapless sundress and slide my flip-flops back on. Staring in the mirror, I don’t recognize myself. My normally perfect, blond hair is still dripping and barely brushed. My face is red and swollen. My eyes, though? They’re the worst. My eyes are hollow, empty, alone.

  When I step out of the bathroom, his snores calm me—I know I can be alone now. I need to think. Once I snatch my key from the dresser, I tiptoe to the door, but I stop before opening it. I have an idea.

  What if perfect Daphney messed up?

  What if perfect Daphney did something so horrible and obvious to everyone that maybe an escape route would suddenly form?

  As I slip out the front door, I think about the man who is about to become my accomplice. It’s almost too perfect.

  This good girl is about to become very bad.

  Kenny

  This place. I fucking hate this place. From the moment I stepped foot on the island, my stomach has been in knots.

  This was our place.

  Ever since I can remember, we came here every summer for vacation. Hell, we even came here one last time while I was on summer break before 9/11, and although I was a cool college kid at that point, I still enjoyed spending every second with them.

  That day that plane crashed into the building where both of my parents worked changed everything. I watched in horror as my whole world was snatched from me in one single moment. I had hope that they’d make it out though. Even after both buildings collapsed into a pile of rubble, I still had hope. And after making the long-ass drive from Duke in North Carolina into New York City, I still had hope. For weeks, I volunteered in the cleanup of the aftermath because I still had hope. But well over a decade later, I’ve been past having hope.

  They’re gone.

  I can accept that now, but being on the very island where I spent every summer vacation with my parents, I can’t help but feel low. My mother will never again tell me that I never call her enough or that I need a haircut. My dad will never again shoot hoops with me on Thanksgiving Day while we wait for supper to get ready or lecture me on the importance of not taking life too seriously. I’ll never have those moments again with them.

  Sitting up from my bed, I pull off my shirt and then walk over to the sliding glass door to watch the waves crash along the shoreline. Knowing Donnie, had I told him that this place held such gutting memories for me, he’d have changed his wedding location. But he’s a good friend and I would never ask him to do such a thing. I just have to learn to get on without them. Even if every single street, restaurant, and beach here reminds me of them.

  Turning from the window, I unbutton my jeans and make my way to the shower. A soft knock on my door startles me on my way. Without checking to see who it might be, I flip the lock and swing open the door.

  All melancholy thoughts of my parents disappear as I stare at the woman in front of me.

  Daphney.

  I’ve had trouble getting this girl out of my head since the moment I saw her. That day, when I was scared shitless about what Donnie had done to himself and demanded answers on his wellbeing, she shut me down with her bossy attitude and fierce resolve on protecting her brother from everyone. I admired how she cared for him. She was tough and sexy as hell, even in scrubs and a ponytail. I’d wanted her instantly—aside, of course, from the fact that I had a girlfriend at the time.

  When I saw her again at Christmas and she flirted easily with me, looking every bit a fucking dream in her cocktail dress and curly waves that cascaded over her perky tits, the feeling of attraction was still there. I wasn’t going to miss my chance that time. She was a girl worth chasing, and I was going to make her mine. My mother would have approved.

  For once in a really long time, I had hope of a little happiness.

  But then a stupid-ass motherfucker sauntered in and staked his claim. I could have swallowed the pill easily had he been a nice guy. He wasn’t a nice guy though. I watched as Daphney transformed before my very eyes from her real self into some weak, fractured version of herself. It was sickening to see.

  I may have honored the fact that she was engaged and backed away, but it doesn’t mean I liked it. Every time I’ve seen her since the day I punched her asshole fiancé in the face for handling someone so delicate and beautiful so roughly, she’s retreated further and further behind a mask. Her mask is one her father approved of. That, too, has been sickening to watch.

  I’m normally a pretty even-tempered guy, but when I saw her in the elevator earlier with him, I nearly socked that idiot in the face again. Something in her eyes screamed for release—the fucker clearly had her under his thumb.

  “Hi, Kenny,” she says softly.

  I take in her appearance. Her hair is dripping wet from a shower, and she looks so fucking hopeless standing there. I know hopeless because I’ve been there myself before.

  “Hi, Daphney. What’s up?”

  Her lip quivers for a second, but she bites down on it to stop it. The fiery, brave part of her—the real part of her—squares her shoulders and stares at me evenly.

  “I need your help.”

  As I look into her pretty, blue eyes, which are full of decision, I know I’ll help her. Whatever she asks.

  “Done, Daphney. What is it?”

  She sighs in relief and pushes past me into my room. I close the door behind her and look at her questioningly.

  “I’m about to marry a psychopath.”

  I smirk. She’s right about that one.

  “So don’t do it. Leave him.”

  Her lip quivers and the hopeless girl is back. “I can’t leave him. Well, not easily.”

  “I guess I’m not understanding, Daphney. What do you need my help with? Are you planning on killing him? Do you need me to help you dump the body?” I grin.

  As she giggles, the real Daphney comes back to life. “I wish, but no.”

  I try not to inhale her as she approaches and stands uncomfortably close, only inches separating our chests. I’m not uncomfortable because I’m afraid of her. I’m uncomfortable because I’m afraid of what I’ll do to her if she touches me. I’ve gone months thinking about this girl naked, riding my cock. If she touches me, my dream might just become a reality. I’m uncomfortable because my dick has now gotten on board and thickened in my pants at the prospect of merely touching her.

  “I need you to fuck me, Kenny.”

  A growl escapes me, but I keep my arms safe at my sides. I’m not sure what’s going on, but there’s more to what she’s asking me.

  “As much as I want to rip that dress right off your tight little body and fuck you right against the door, I’m afraid there’s more. Right?”

  She nods and bows her head. “I need you to be my scapegoat. The bad boy. The one who corrupted me. The one who caused me to ruin my engagement. I need you to ruin my engagement. Do you understand what I am asking?”

  Me? The bad boy? It’s almost laughable. I’m the boy who loved his momma. The boy who made straight A’s in college and played basketball for Duke. I’m the boy who, while not fixing Donnie’s shit, is out spending time with the kids at The Salvation Army Boys and Girls Club, teaching them how to shoot hoops.

  I’m the good boy. But for some reason, I think the good girl is about to convince me to become bad.

  I have no fucking idea why she wants me to do this, but I’m already nodding my head in agreement. I’ll be Daphney’s bad boy.

  “Kenny, we have to make this believable. I need to make him, my dad, all of them believe we’re together—that we can’t live without each other. I need you to make them hate us. Especially you.”

  She makes no sense, but I want to help her, especially if that means she’ll have a way to leave that motherfucker.

 
“So you need an out? I’m your out?” I ask, attempting understand it all.

  “Yes. Please help me. Once the wedding is over, we’ll tell them. I can’t ruin their wedding, but at least it could all be over in a few days when we come clean to them. My engagement will be ruined. You and I will run off into the sunset. As soon as it all blows over, we can go back to our lives. I’ll pay you. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just please help me, Kenny.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “You’re not paying me. But you do realize we can do this without having sex, right?”

  She lifts her chin and meets my stare evenly. “Yes, but I’m not a liar. If I’m cheating on my fiancé, the only way I’ll be able to say it with a straight face to my father is if I truly am. I trust that you’re a good guy. Can you help me? Can you be my secret lover? Can you handle when we come clean and tell everyone? Can you handle their disappointment? Can you handle the shitstorm that will come with it?” Her eyes are wild at this point—borderline delusional.

  “And you’re sure that you can’t just go across the hallway and break up with that asshole? That this is the only option you see that will work?” I ask.

  She nods, sliding her palms up my bare chest and snaking her arms around my neck. “He won’t let me go without a fight. If you help me, I’ll be able to free myself from him with as little collateral damage as possible.” Her lips press against my Adam’s apple.

  I can smell her freshly shampooed hair and she smells unbelievably delicious. “So you want me to fuck you now? You want this to start now? Jump in with both feet?”

  She nods. I thread my fingers through her wet hair and tilt her head back so I can see her face. With her body pressed against mine, I know she can feel my cock already eager to start our little game of pretend.

  “What if we fall in love for real?” I question. For some reason, this game seems a little dangerous. I already really like her. This game seems easy to me. The part that will be hard is letting her go when it’s all over.

  “We won’t fall in love, Kenny. I’m a workaholic bitch. You’ll see. But for now, we’re already in love. I love you, Kenny Stark. See? In love. Now fuck me. Do you have a condom?”

  I slide my hand into my back pocket and pull out my wallet, raising my eyebrows at her. “I have three in here. I could fuck you three times before you ever even leave this room. Are you sure you want to do this?”

  Taking my wallet from me, she retrieves a condom and tosses the rest to the floor. My eyes roll back when she feels my cock through my jeans.

  “It’s a good thing my lover has such a big, willing cock,” she smiles.

  I groan as she unzips my pants and lets them drop to the floor. My cock bounces out as she shoves my boxers to my ankles.

  Opening my eyes, I greedily devour her luscious tits as she pushes down her dress off her body. The woman is nude underneath, and now, I’m eager as hell to plunge deep inside her. She tears open the condom package and slips it over my cock.

  “Woman, you’re the devil,” I growl as I grab a handful of her bare ass.

  When I lift her up, her legs wrap around my hips. I stalk over to the door and push her against it. As I guide her body down over my cock, filling every inch of her, we both fill the room with sounds of pleasure. She feels like fucking heaven.

  “If I’m the devil, you’re going to hell with me,” she moans as I start thrusting into her.

  I haven’t been laid in ages, and having this beautiful woman bouncing on my cock is fucking amazing.

  “Give me a hickey on my neck,” she instructs, reminding me that we’re playing her game.

  Like the good boy I am, I adhere to her instructions and drag my tongue up along her neck.

  “You taste so damn good,” I murmur against her flesh, nipping slightly at it.

  “Oh God,” she pants. “Shit. Just suck on me.”

  Sucking her skin into my mouth, I mark her skin. I should stop, but I can’t. My mouth has a mind of its own as I taste every inch of her neck, leaving a trail of evidence along the way. Jerking us away from the wall, I stalk over to the sliding glass door and fuck her against it so I can watch the ocean.

  Mother certainly wouldn’t approve of this.

  Of what we’re doing.

  Of her.

  But right now, I don’t give a fuck.

  I’m no longer Kenny Stark—the good boy.

  No, as I fuck the woman of my dreams against the glass, I know I’ve crossed a dark line.

  I’m a very bad boy.

  COMING SOON!!

  My Books

  The Breaking the Rules Series:

  Broken (Book 1) – Available Now!

  Wrong (Book 2) – Available Now!

  Scarred (Book 3) – Available Now!

  Mistake (Book 4) – Coming Soon!

  The Vegas Aces Series:

  Rock Country (Book 1) – Available Now!

  Rock Heart (Book 2) – Available Now!

  Rock Bottom (Book 3) – Available Now!

  Rock Out (Book 4) – Coming Soon!

  Apartment 2B (Standalone Novel) – Available Now!

  Love and Law (Standalone Novel) – Available Now!

  Moth to a Flame (Standalone Novel) – Available Now!

  A very special thanks goes to my husband, Matt Webster. Without your constant sounding board, this book wouldn’t have ever transformed into the sweet story that it has now become. The foot and shoulder rubs were wonderful and I can’t ever thank you enough for how well you take care of me. Love you bunches, honey!

  Nikki McCrae, Anne Jolin, Wendy Colby, and Ella Fox. You guys rock and I appreciate your friendship and support. I’m thankful to have you in my life!

  Thank you to all my author friends that have provided great friendships. You know who you are!

  I want to thank the beta readers on this book, whom are also my friends. Nikki McCrae, Anne Jolin, Wendy Colby, Shannon Martin, Dena Marie, Michelle Ramirez, Melissa Gill, Holly Sparks, Mandy Abel, and Jennifer Inglehart, you guys provided AMAZING feedback. Thank you for taking my messy baby book and reading through the errors to get to the meat of the story. I appreciate all of your comments and suggestions.

  I’m especially thankful for the Breaking the Rules Babes. Without the daily support of my sisters in there, I’d be pretty lost. You girls rock my world!

  Mickey, my fabulous editor from I’m a Book Shark, thank you for loving Donnie and Nora as much as I do! You only had to slap my hand like a hundred times for saying the word “pull” which is progress from the last book where I used it 4,376 times but I appreciate the loving way in which you slapped. You are my editing sunshine. Love you girl!

  Thank you Stacey Blake for turning my sweet Donnie and Nora’s book into something special. You always do the best work and I’m so incredible thankful that you choose to help me—even if I can get a little crazy with my chapters. Love you!

  Lastly but certainly not least of all, thank you to all of the wonderful readers out there that are willing to hear my story and enjoy my characters like I do. It means the world to me!

  I’m a thirty three year old self-proclaimed book nerd. Married to my husband for eleven years, we enjoy spending time with our two lovely children. Writing is a newly acquired fun hobby for me that has now turned into a livelihood. In the past, I’ve enjoyed the role as a reader. However, I have learned I absolutely love taking on the creative role as the writer. Something about determining how the story will play out intrigues me to no end.

  This writing experience has been a blast and I’ve met some really fabulous people along the way. I hope my readers enjoy reading my stories as much as I do writing them. I look forward to connecting with you all!

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