by Tamara Lush
We kiss, slow and hot, our tongues slipping against each other.
“I want you on top of me,” I whisper. He flips me over, and I slide my hands under the waistband of his pants, then slip them over his hips.
He’s not wearing underwear, and I giggle a little. “Going commando?” I ask.
Rolling his eyes, he bites me. “I forgot to do laundry.”
“That’s okay,” I say, spreading my legs. “It’s fine with me if you forget that.”
Diego nuzzles my neck with his nose when he enters me. He feels thick and sharp all at once, filling me. A sexy, deep grunt comes from his throat when he’s all the way in. His rhythm as he fucks me is slow, almost dirty, the way he’s grinding on me. But it's also sweet and slow because we're in the moment. Together.
Cradling my neck and jaw with one hand, fisting the sheets with the other.
I gasp because he feels so amazing. We breathe in unison, looking into each other’s eyes.
I am his. He’s mine.
There is only love between us now, not the past, not our mistakes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
CATALINA
For two weeks, we fall into a routine. In the mornings, we go for a run together on the beach, jogging at a steady pace along the packed sand outside of Diego’s house as the sun comes up. I’m not usually a runner, but Diego asked me if I wanted to go. He said he wanted to run in the mornings and not at night, because the nights were for us.
So I thought about it, bought sneakers and went with him one morning.
Neither one of us speaks while we’re running. We don’t listen to music, either. Instead, we’re both silent, letting the slap of our feet and the cries of the birds slice through the humid, salty air.
I’m trying to forget the photos with every step. It's working, sort of.
We return from our run and shower together. Well, usually. Sometimes Diego can’t even wait that long. If I’m wearing a sports bra and shorts and if he’s wearing only running shorts, sometimes he pulls me into the Gulf, and we swim and kiss. Then we’ll go inside, soaking wet, and strip each other in his bedroom before ending up intertwined and breathless in the shower.
One of us makes breakfast. Sometimes Liam and Sawyer join us. It’s pretty wonderful, all of us together. Like a team. Or a family. One weekend we even had Scott and Amber, along with Jessica and her fiancé over for a bar-be-cue.
Normal, except for the photos that looming like a summer storm in the distance.
During the mornings and afternoons, we work on the business like a true startup team. I do social media, a newsletter, some videos, pitch ideas to podcasts and vlogs and online magazines. Diego handles selling ads and talking with Sergei from Sahara about the acquisition. At three, Diego goes to ‘work’ gaming, and I continue on the computer. Then I’ll make dinner or watch Sawyer or Liam struggle in the kitchen.
Sure, it’s controlled chaos. There’s a woman in France who watches Liam and sends him giant boxes of beef jerky. We have no idea why. There’s always some mess somewhere, whether it’s food wrappers, papers, toys.
A kindergarten for adult boys, I call it. But I join in my share of the shenanigans. It’s more fun than college, truth be told. Like when Sawyer registered his car and got a vanity license plate — VIRGIN — it read. Playing on his geekiness. I made sure to take an entire video of him getting in his car and driving off with the plate, and the fans ate it up.
The video had 10,000 hits in an hour on YouTube.
On most days, I’ll eat with those clowns and then either read, do more social media, or sometimes play online with Diego. At first, I was hesitant to go on the live stream with him, but so far, there’s been no indication that any of the regular gamers are the ones who sent me the photo. And I think they’re treating me like one of the guys, which is what I wanted.
Around ten I go up to Diego’s room and send more emails, talk to some college girlfriends on Skype, chat with my mom. Paint my nails. I play with Zelda.
Normal.
By the time Diego’s done gaming and eating, we’re ravenous for each other again.
The days and nights are so busy that I’ve almost been able to successfully put the photo out of my mind. Maybe it's a one-off incident, something that’s completely random and cruel. Perhaps it was the politician, just trying to scare me.
Something I should ignore.
Life at Diego’s is actually good. More than good. It’s better than it’s been in years. And I’m not in a hurry to return to my parents’ home, where the ghosts of the past reside. So I stay, and the photo gets buried into the recess of my mind.
One Friday night, I finish gaming with Diego and walk into the kitchen to grab a beer. It’s around ten-thirty at night, and Diego’s got a half hour left on his shift. I’m eager for him to finish so we can pack. He’s taking Saturday and Sunday off. We’re planning to take Zelda north to canoe on a river and stay in a log cabin in the Florida swamp. Diego said he wanted a weekend away from technology and I readily agreed — while joking about how neither of us had been in a canoe and whether we’d survive a night in the woods without electronic devices.
We’ve even bought Zelda a pink dog lifejacket, the sight of which has made Diego laugh all week. She’s been the star of our Insta feed in her little outfit.
I’m opening the beer when Liam walks in. I’m even drinking beer now, instead of my usual vodka-cranberry cocktail. Living in Gamerhouse has loosened me up a little.
“Want one?” I ask.
He nods, and I hand him my open beer then head to the fridge for a second.
“How are you?” he asks. He says it in an odd, concerned way.
“Fine. Awesome. Really awesome.” I smile. He’s probably high so that’s why he’s acting weird. He passes the bottle opener to me and I catch a whiff of weed. “I talked Diego into canoe lessons so we won’t drown.”
Liam pushes air out of his mouth like he’s relieved. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing good. I was worried about you for a while.”
I twist my mouth to the side and stare at him. “Why?”
He takes a long pull from his beer and shrugs. “You know, because of the photos and stuff.”
First my eyes go wide, then they narrow. “Photos. And. Stuff?”
“Yeah, when you got the photo in your mailbox, Diego said you were upset. And that pic that was sent to him. Man, that was some fucked up shit.”
“What are you talking about?” I’m trying to remain calm, but it’s hard.
“You know that weekend you were in Miami…” It suddenly registers to Liam that I have no idea what he’s talking about and that I’m not only shocked but pissed. Or on the verge of hysterics.
“Um, never mind,” he mumbles and tries to slip out of the kitchen.
But he’s too slow, and I’m too angry. I park myself in the door and block his exit.
“You are going to tell me exactly what you know and exactly what you’ve heard about me and any photos. Right now, stoner boy.”
He swallows hard. “You should talk to Diego. I don’t think I’m supposed to be telling you any of this.”
“Oh, I plan on talking to Diego. For a very long time. But since you’re standing right in front of me, I’m starting with you. Then I’m going to get Sawyer’s ass out of bed, and I’ll find out what he knows. Now spill before I lose my shit.”
“Fine. But can you lower your voice? I really don’t want Diego to know I accidentally told you about this.”
“Diego didn’t want you to talk about this with me?” I gape.
“Okay. Let’s dial it back, dude.” His voice drops to a whisper. “That weekend you were in Miami, Diego texted me and told me to disable your email. He also asked me to look for information about a particular email address.”
My mouth hangs open. All I can do is shake my head.
“I didn’t know why. I was hooking up with some girl from Tinder, so I didn’t ask any questions. I did it because he wanted it�
�Diego’s the boss around here. Then when you guys returned, he told me that someone had sent him a naked photo of you. One you took when you guys were in high school. He was trying to find out information about that address. I don’t think he wanted all this to get out, not with the deal with Sahara and all.”
“Did you see the photos?” I hiss.
“I saw the ones that Diego got yesterday,” he said.
“Yesterday?” I yell. Nearly blind with rage, I reach out and grab a fistful of Liam’s sweatshirt near his bicep. “Which photo did he get yesterday?”
He opens his mouth, and right then, Diego practically walks into us.
“Hey, Liam, it’s your time to get online. What—” His eyes go from me to Liam, then to my hand clutching Liam’s arm.
“What, is right,” I snap, then let go of Liam, who’s gone pale. “I need to talk to you upstairs.”
I stomp away, not looking back to see if Diego’s following. He’d better be, because if he’s not, I’m about to lose my mind and I don’t care if it’s carried live on Gamerhouse or not.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
DIEGO
“I’ll deal with you later.”
Liam stands in the kitchen, confused. I shoot him a nasty look and then run to catch Cata as she flies up the stairs.
“Wait.” My hand is on her arm.
“Wait? No.” She jerks away and practically runs into the office. Once we're both inside, the door closed, she shoots me a violent glare. “Tell me exactly what’s going on. Now.”
“About what?” From the look on Liam’s face, I suspect that he’s said something he shouldn’t have. About the photos. But I need a little time to think. Ever since I’d gotten another photo emailed the day before, I’d been going nuts trying to figure out what to do.
“About Miami. About the photos. About how you received a new picture yesterday. How you disabled my email.”
I pace the room, and she crosses her arms in front of her chest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look so angry. I rub at my hair, wondering what to say.
“I’m waiting,” she says.
Sinking onto the sofa, I lick my lips. “I only wanted to protect you.”
“I don’t care what you want. I want to know what the fuck happened.” Her voice is now shrill.
“Okay. Okay. Calm down.” I know that’s the wrong thing to say when I watch her face get red. My words come tumbling out, forming the longest run on sentence of all time.
“While we were in Miami I got an anonymous email with one of your photos, and I had the guys disable your account, and I wanted to try to find out who did it and sort everything out before you had any idea what was going on.”
I exhale. There. God, I hate confrontation.
Cata sits next to me. “At what point in the weekend did you get the email?”
“Saturday. The morning after we, you know.”
“Saturday.” Her voice is icy. “So that’s why you locked my phone and my laptop and my tablet up in the hotel room safe? So I wouldn’t have access to my email?”
I nod and look down at my bare feet.
“Do you think I can't take care of myself?”
Raising my head, my voice protests but my mind knows she’s right. “I know you can, but—”
“But you wanted to keep fucking me that weekend, and you thought I was some damsel in distress to be saved. And, you didn’t want my past to screw up your deal, did you?”
“That’s not why I didn’t tell you. The deal has nothing to do with this.” My voice is sharp. “I don’t care about the deal. I care that you’re safe.”
“Whatever. Thanks, Diego. Now you’ve gone and told everyone in the house about the photos, and you haven’t given me some important information about something that involves me. So, thank you. For treating me like a child.”
“I didn’t do it so I could keep fucking you. I’m offended you’d even say that.”
“Well? Then why didn’t you say anything when we were in Miami?”
I pause, and we lock eyes. “Because you seemed so happy. I didn’t want to ruin that.”
She rubs her lips together and starts to rise from the sofa. I grab her wrist in my hand and pull her toward me. Maybe I pull a little harder than anticipated because she yelps and falls into my lap.
“Sorry,” I whisper. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I want you close.”
I put my arms around her, and she stiffens.
“And yeah, I did get a photo emailed yesterday. It came when you were in Fort Myers at the computer store. I didn’t want to tell you about it. It was the same photo you got in your snail mail.” I sigh. “Please know that I wanted to shield you from all this crap. I couldn’t protect you six years ago. I didn’t know how. Now, I’m pissed about what’s happening. I want to get to the bottom of it. I’m working with the guys on trying to figure out how we can find the asshole.”
Her body eases into mine, and she presses her face into my neck. She kisses me, then raises her head.
“I’m so angry at you,” she whispers. “I’m angry at everything.”
I feel like slamming my fist into a wall, I'm so mad at whoever is doing this to Cata. “I know. I’m sorry. But none of this is your fault, Cata. And I’m on your side.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
CATALINA
When Diego walks up to Liam and me, I’m ready to walk out of his life. Of course, I need my purse first, and I run up the stairs with him following close behind. I’m ready to leave and get in the car and drive out of Florida and never look back. But then he pulls me onto his lap, and we’re staring at each other.
“This is going to jeopardize your deal if it gets out,” I whisper. “I don’t want to do that.”
“It’ll be fine. How will it get out? And so what if it does?”
So what if it does? So what if all of the New York gossip sites find out the one thing I’ve been trying to hide for years? After that politician shamed me? No. No thank you. I don’t want to become a bigger national headline than what I've already experienced. I’ve seen what that can do to women.
Destroy them.
I don’t say any of this to Diego because he’s looking at me with big, naïve eyes. Sometimes he’s so innocent, this boy who’s lived most of his life online. It’s only in that moment that I realize this, and I also come to another conclusion: I need to leave to save him and his business. Leave and save everything he’s worked for.
Walk away, as much as it will break my heart.
If these photos get out — and I feel like they eventually will, given that whoever has these photos are torturing me with them — it could jeopardize his deal and his whole life.
What mega company wants to buy a smaller company embroiled in a sex scandal?
He strokes my hair gently, and my head hurts because of how much I love him. He’s telling me that the deal doesn’t matter to him, but I know it does. After his childhood, how can I put something like that at risk? He’d ultimately never forgive me.
My chest constricts as if there’s a firm weight on it. It’s the realization that I must leave him as soon as possible that takes my breath away.
It’s for the best, I remind myself as I shift in his lap, straddling him. It’s to save his business deal. It’s to save me from the inevitable shame when someone calls me a slut and humiliates me more.
It will save me from even bigger heartbreak when he realizes that I’m not worth ruining his life over.
I press my mouth onto his one last time, the force of my kiss shoving him back into the sofa. One of his hands is in my hair, and another is on my ass, and I’m moving, rocking, on his cock.
One last time.
“Cata, I love you.”
“Just kiss me,” I whisper.
I’m wearing a little dress, and his hand slips underneath the hem then down my panties, grazing my butt until he reaches my wet core. I’m needy for him, grasping and writhing. He finger fucks me from behind, and I moan int
o his mouth, gasp, because his big fingers feel so good.
I stop devouring his mouth long enough to put my lips to his ear. “I don’t want you to protect me,” I whisper. “I want you to fuck me. Now.”
These words, this insistence, are totally out of character. It’s like my emotions are so jumbled from anger and shame and lust that the only thing I can do is cater to my basest needs. And right now, I need Diego. For the last time.
He roughly flips me onto my back and hikes up my dress. I start to shove down my panties, but he has other ideas, slipping his fingers into the lace holes and tearing. I go for his zipper, and he turns his attention to that, also, freeing himself. Within the blink of an eye, his hard length is inside of me, making me gasp from the fullness.
We lock eyes as he fucks me and I stare at him with a mixture of defiance, love, need.
“Like that,” I whisper. “Faster.”
He frowns a little, and I know that he’s already on the verge of coming, he’s so turned on. Even though I’m sopping wet, I’m not close to having an orgasm, and I won’t allow myself to come. It’s my punishment for what I’m about to do, which is break his heart.
It’s for his own good.
He thrusts harder and harder, and I gasp and cry out. He feels so damned good that I could come, if he would only reach down and thumb my clit. But I won’t ask, and won’t do it for myself because this is all for him.
It’s the final time, although he doesn’t know it yet.
“I love you,” he says in a raspy voice. “God, Cata, I love you.”
I pull his head toward me and kiss him as he comes. His body shudders violently and then I stroke his back, soothing him.
I love you too, Diego. That’s why I’m leaving you. I don’t want to ruin your life.
Chapter Thirty
DIEGO