Bent not Broken

by Lisa De Jong

  I feel like the wind has been knocked out of my lungs. I stare at the headline of the article and the profligate beauty of the man whose face is plastered on the front of the page. A defiant Arsen is looking directly at the camera as a sexy smirk plays around the corners of his lips.

  He’s so beautiful.

  The picture shows Arsen, drunk and exiting an exclusive nightclub with a famous model wrapped around each arm, and a third one on his back, piggyback riding him. He looks like a kid in a candy store. The hand of one of the girls is inside his pants, wrapped around his huge erection no doubt, and a thong is wrapped around his neck. I know how his night ended. Disgusted by his behavior, and with myself for not being able to look away, I read the banner of the article.

  “Arsen=Arson? Manhattan’s new favorite bad boy.”

  That’s an understatement.

  Curiosity gets the best of me, so I read the article about him. According to the columnist, the photographers asked Arsen his secret to staying in such good shape.

  “I fuck a lot.”

  When they asked him if it was true he banged the newest Hollywood “it” girl, he answered, “No comment. I’m a gentleman. I don’t fuck and tell…unless they want me to.”

  “Handsome devil, isn’t he?”

  Lifting my eyes, I see a very attractive man in his mid-forties smiling at me. I blush because I’ve been caught reading trash about his clients, and my boss’ son. I close the newspaper and place it on the table as quickly as possible and stand up to extend my hand.

  “Hi, Mr. Parker. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Cathy Stanwood, your chauffeur for the day.”

  He takes my hand and shakes it. “Hi, Cathy. What a lovely surprise. Let’s just say that I’ve never been so glad to be driven around as I am today.”

  “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Parker.”

  “You’re as beautiful as your voice is over the phone. And please, call me Charles.” We’ve stopped shaking hands, but he hasn’t let go of mine yet. “I love when pretty women like you call me by my name.”

  I can’t help smiling into his grey eyes as he flirts with me. “Sure.” Taking in his appearance, I note that he’s wearing dark denim fitted jeans with a light blue button down shirt and a cream-colored sports jacket. His longish brown hair is parted to the side, lending his handsome face a very preppy and boyish look.

  “You flatter me, but I feel obligated to let you know that I’m not that good of a driver. Anyway, should we go? Driving to Westchester is quite a hike at this time of the day.”

  “Of course. Please lead the way.” He moves to the side to let me pass and walk in front of him.

  “Well, what a gentleman,” I tease as I grab my bag and move past him.

  “Always, Darling. Always,” he teases back.

  Somehow he beats me to the door, opening it for me. “After you.”

  Laughing, the two of us get in my car. I turn to look at him as I start the engine. “About before…the newspaper isn’t mine. It was just sitting there and…”

  Charles shrugs as his gray eyes land on mine. “I was just teasing you. I’ve known that kid for a very long time. I’m what you could call a long time family friend. Arsen definitely likes to have his fun in his own wild ways, but don’t believe everything you read. They make a living on selling lies. But there is no denying he’s guilty of at least half of those stories. If I have ever met a kid who knows how to use his pretty face and money, it’s got to be him. He never hurts the women, though. He’s always very forward and up front with what he’s looking for and what he expects before getting involved with someone.”

  As I fight the Manhattan traffic, I say, “Yes, there is no denying he knows how to have fun and that women love him.”

  “Yes, the kid is so good looking that women throw themselves at him. I still remember Victoria complaining back when he was a boy how kids would tease him saying that he looked like a girl because he was so pretty.”

  “Well, he definitely doesn’t look like a girl anymore. I don’t think people tease him either,” I say, smirking.

  “No. I don’t think so.” We both laugh at the joke.

  “I’m curious though…is his life always reported and scrutinized like that by gossip columnists? I can’t imagine living under the microscope like that,” I ask.

  “He can go quite unnoticed by them when he’s out and about and they leave him alone for the most part. It’s only when he dates someone famous that he can’t escape the rumors or paparazzi.”

  Dropping the subject of Arsen, we continue the car ride to the suburbs talking about everything else that strangers who like each other talk about upon meeting.

  As we approach the impressive Radcliff residence, I decide that Charles Parker is a great catch. He is likeable, wealthy, and would be perfect for Amy. They both ooze sex from the pores of their perfect skin and would probably screw like bunnies. My mind goes back to Arsen, and for a brief second I wonder if I will ever see him again.

  I want to.

  Yes, even after what happened, or didn’t happen, between us.

  ****

  After the elderly housekeeper lets us in, Charles and I make our way to the kitchen. Charles has been to the house with Victoria plenty of times before, so he knows his way around the massive mansion just fine. When we walk into the kitchen, I’m surprised by how extensive the area is. Everything is made out of maple wood and black marble. It boggles my mind that Victoria would like to change the décor of the kitchen because the room is already breathtaking.

  I follow Charles to the expansive black marble top island. Upon reaching him, I notice he has all sorts of designs, fabrics, and floor plans spread across the top. Charles studies the organized mess in front of him as if he’s solving an algebra problem.

  “This is a beautiful home. I hope it’s finished soon so Victoria and Bruno can move in.”

  “I agree, but living at the Plaza is not a shabby thing either.”

  We laugh.

  “Hey, Charles, would you mind if I step away? I need to make some phone calls to the office,” I ask, wanting to give him some space to do his work.

  Looking up from his study of the floor plans, he smiles at me. “Take your time. I’m going over some last minute changes that need to be addressed.”

  As I walk around the palatial mansion admiring its beauty, I realize for the first time that the Radcliff’s and I will kind of be neighbors since Ben and I live in Greenwich, not even fifteen minutes away from here.

  When I think about our home, I decide to give Ben a call. I haven’t spoken to him since this morning and I miss him. Lately, I’ve made a conscious effort to seek him out, to reach out to him and it seems to be working. A couple of weeks ago I could go a whole day without speaking to him, but now I’m rediscovering how much fun it is to talk to him. Yes, his voice is making me feel things again.

  About to press send, I hear extremely loud metal music coming from somewhere. My interest peaked, I forget about the phone call and decide to find the source of the music.

  I follow the noise and make my way down the hall to where the song sounds loudest. I stand outside of a room left with its door ajar and watch the paintings on the wall shake in time to the bass. I wonder who could be listening to such an atrocity.

  Thinking that I should do something, I walk through the threshold of the room as the answer to my earlier question is staring me right in the eye like a bulls eye target.

  Well, Cathy. You wanted to know…

  Stopping dead in my tracks, I see a naked Arsen going down on a dark haired woman on top of what I assume is his dad’s oak desk. His muscular back and the woman’s long tanned legs wrapped around his neck are all I can see from where I am standing. However, there’s a large mirror sitting on the mantelpiece above the fireplace behind the desk that reflects everything.

  As the loud thumping of the music surrounds me, drowning my own thoughts in the aggressive melody, I can see the reflection of Arsen
’s blond head in between her legs. The woman lying on the table is holding her ankles, spreading her legs open and offering herself to Arsen. Shocked, I want to move…I want to get out of this room as fast as my legs will allow, but I can’t. Metal music continues to blast in my ears as I watch Arsen lick his lips and stand up, his hungry eyes landing on the woman’s face. I can see him smiling as he fists his dick in his hand, pumping it up and down. Letting go of himself, he reaches for his jeans and takes a condom out of the back pocket. I watch as he rips the foil package open with his teeth. After rolling it over his length, he grabs the woman’s ass in his large hands and pulls her closer to him. Remaining in her split position, the woman lifts her head to look at him. Her back is facing the mirror, so I can’t see the expression on her face, but I see Arsen’s half cocky smile…the barest lift of his lips…as he places the tip of his dick against her entrance. The woman throws her head back, exposing her long and elegant neck just as Arsen pushes all the way in, fully penetrating her. She appears to say something that pleases Arsen because, shaking his head, a short lived smile appears and disappears on his lips, a smile that is replaced with lust and want.

  Looking down at his dick inside her sex, he begins to slowly slide out, then slam right back in her, each thrust harder and faster than the last, every slam of his hips pushing her body further across the top of the desk. I can hear her screams breaking now through the music, begging him for more.

  Arsen lifts his eyes and notices me.

  He notices the transfixed blonde woman standing on the threshold of the office watching their every move. Not stopping, Arsen keeps slamming his body into hers as I see his reflection smile into mine. He watches me as he lowers his smiling lips to kiss the dark haired woman. As their tongues connect with one another, he continues to watch me as he fucks her with his mouth.

  It’s his shameful smile that I feel slowly brandishing itself in my memory that finally brings me back to reality. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be watching him, watching them.

  Appalled at myself, I turn around, leaving the study as fast as my stiletto clad feet will allow. I trip on my feet not once, but twice in my lame attempt at running.

  Damn it! Stupid Louboutins and their lack of traction.

  ****

  Feeling like I’m burning from the inside out, I make my way to an empty room. It looks like a sunroom with all its windows and the sunlight streaming in. With no furniture in sight, I lean my body against a wall. As I try to catch my breath and calm my beating heart, I close my eyes and attempt to expunge the image of Arsen and that woman out of my mind.

  It isn’t working.

  The scene I just walked in on keeps playing over and over in my head. I can still see the way Arsen smiled at me as he had sex with her on the desk as if daring me to stop him…or join him. I can still see his blond head in between her legs. I can still hear her screams through the music, asking him for more.

  Calmer, I open my eyes and realize I didn’t feel anything when I saw him other than shock. Not one thing. I want to scream with happiness.

  My infatuation, if you could even call it that, is over!

  I obviously find him attractive, but who wouldn’t. He’s sex on legs. But I know that thoughts of him sabotaging my mind when I least expect it are gone. And funny enough, seeing him with her has helped to exorcise him from my mind.

  Completely.

  My hands go to my stomach as I feel a smile tugging at my lips. This time, brown eyes pop into my head and not aqua.

  I am free.

  Free.

  Chapter 8

  My body feels light as a feather, and my conscience guilt free for the first time in a very long time as I leave the room in search of Charles. I need to get out of here, and fast, before I run into Arsen and Miss Spread Eagle again.

  When I step into the kitchen, I find Charles talking to a bare chested Arsen. What the hell? How did he get here?

  Arsen is the first one to notice me as I walk towards the granite island where floor plans and magazines remain scattered all over the countertop. His eyes scrutinizing me as he smiles.

  I avoid making eye contact with him. It’s a big mistake because my gaze lands on his very perfect and sweaty chest where his six-pack glistens with the moisture of sex.

  Feeling an embarrassed blush cover my face, I turn to address Charles. “There you are. Are you ready to head back into the city?” I look down at my watch, noticing that it’s already close to 4:00 p.m. “If we leave now, we could beat the rush hour traffic, but even then I can’t guarantee that we won’t be stuck in it. Shall we leave now?”

  Someone clears his throat, making me lift my eyes.

  Arsen.

  Why is it always him?

  His hair shines like gold in the sunlight, and there is a blush on his cheeks that wasn’t there before. We stare at each other for a moment before he turns to face and address Charles.

  “Charles, Catherine...Why don’t you join my friend Amanda and me for drinks and dinner? I’ve made a reservation for 6:30 p.m. at Le Provencal in Greenwich.”

  Really? Just friends?

  I take advantage of the fact that he’s looking at Charles and not at me to steal a quick glance, admiring all of him again. It’s not like I can shut his beauty out of my mind; he is gorgeous and there is no denying that. He’ll always be a pleasure to look at, but what has changed is that he doesn’t make me feel curiosity, temptation, or yearning anymore. Those feelings are gone.

  Besides his wasteful beauty, I notice that there’s a very girly pink butterfly tattooed on his skin, right where his heart is. I want to laugh because really the tattoo defies everything that Arsen stands for.

  I shake my head and decide to step in because I most certainly don’t want to spend my evening with him again. I can’t wait to get back to Ben.

  I smile at the thought of Ben.

  Charles must notice it because he asks, “What is it? Ah, you’ve seen The Tattoo? Yes. It’s quite comical, the story be—”

  Oh, no. I don’t want them to assume that I was checking Arsen out, which I was but not really.

  “No, that’s not it at all. Sorry. Your talk of dinner plans reminded me of something my husband said.” I don’t look at Arsen when I mention Ben. I stare down at my rings, which I made sure to put back on this time, when I say, “Would you mind very much taking a rain check, Arsen?” I lift my eyes to finally meet his and I’m taken aback by the look in his face.

  He seems to be pissed.

  Ignoring him, I address Charles, “Unless you would like to stay...” Charles seems to get the hint because he turns to Arsen. “Sorry, buddy. Seems that the beautiful lady already has dinner plans. How about—”

  “No. Actually, never mind. I just remembered that there’s something I have to do in the city. Would you mind very much if we rode back with you?” Arsen asks me. The way he’s looking at me makes me think he’s daring me to say no to him.

  Whatever, two can play this game.

  “Sure. I don’t mind at all. But how about your friend?” Arsen crosses his arms on his chest, and an impish smile appears on his face.

  “Oh, she won’t mind. We’re done here.” He looks to Charles, “I’ve shown Amanda every room in the house. She loves it.” Glancing in my direction, his teasing eyes land on my face again. “In fact, she begged me to come...back again.”

  “I’m sure she did. It looked like she was enjoying herself as she tested the sturdiness of your father’s desk.”

  Take that, asshat.

  But instead of pissing Arsen off, he bursts out laughing. “It was sturdy alright. Perfect for—”

  “There you are! I’ve been...oh, hi.”

  Amanda is wearing Arsen’s missing shirt and nothing else. Not even blushing or trying to button the shirt closed, she makes her way to him. As she stands on her tiptoes to kiss him, the shirt tugs up, showing her perfect, cellulite-free ass.

  Seriously, that is not possible.

 
“I’ve been looking for you. You said you were going to get some water, so when you didn’t come back, I decided to come and find you.”

  She pouts, her fingers lightly touching his chest. Arsen wraps one hand around her tiny waist and pulls her closer to him. Leaning down, he kisses her behind the ear while Charles and I watch. I don’t know if Charles is as uncomfortable by the situation as I am, but I try to avoid watching him kiss her. Instead, my eyes land on his free hand as it sneaks up her thigh and disappears under the white shirt.

  I smile to the girl and don’t bother to look at Arsen as I greet her. “Hi. Nice meeting you, Amanda. My name is Cathy, and this is Charles. He’s decorating the house for Arsen’s mother. Anyway, it seems that we have detained him long enough. I’m sure he is ready to get back t—”

  “Amanda, get yourself ready. We’re leaving with them in a few,” Arsen says, blatantly interrupting me.

  The girl’s confusion is written all over her face. “But...I thought we were meeting Alec and Sali for dinner and drinks?”

  He lets go of her waist and speaks dismissively to her, “Forget that. Change of plans. Don’t fuss, Amanda. I hate that shit. Now, go get ready.”

  Amanda leaves the kitchen, hopping away on her perfect legs. Soon it’s just Charles, Arsen and myself again. Though, I have to admit that I forgot all about Charles for a moment there.

  My companion seems to sense a weird kind of tension in the room. “My boy, that is no way to treat such a lovely lady. Are you sure you want to ride back with us? It seemed like you were having an awfully good time with her. I would hate to end your tour.” Charles voice is dripping with sarcasm.

  “Yeah. I’m done here,” Arsen snaps back, then turns to look at me, a scowl on his face. “If I say that I want to ride with you, I mean it. I don’t appreciate it when people butt into my damn business.”

  Oh. Seriously, I’m, what, five or six years older than this guy, yet he is talking to me like that? No way.

  “Listen, kid...you can do whatever you want, but remember it’s my car.”