by E. K. Blair
“I can’t believe you’re here,” I gleam.
When we arrive at the W in midtown, we don’t have to waste time checking in since Alec arrived earlier this morning. We make a beeline through the impressive lounge and head straight up to the room. Clothes are coming off before the door shuts behind us. We’re fervid, clawing at one another as we fumble in our steps, but he doesn’t lead me to the bed.
The moment both of us are stripped bare, he turns me around in his arms, facing me toward the full-length window.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to fuck you up against this window.”
I look at the mass of people below. It’s the middle of the day and the street is filled with hundreds of pedestrians.
“Alec.” I resist wearily.
He moves me in slow steps closer to the panoramic window, and I tell myself that I can do this. That this is why I chose to be with him—to explore this unfound part of me.
I gasp when he pushes my body against the cold window, my tits press firmly against the glass. My breath catches with unease, and I’m terrified to look down, fearful that people can see me.
Alec brings his head over my shoulder and rests it against my cheek, releasing a heady breath. With my forehead leaning against the window, he whispers seductively in my ear, “Open your eyes and look.”
I take a deep breath, hoping to swallow a little bit of courage, and when I open my eyes, I catch a few heads tilted up. I shut them quickly and turn my head, nuzzling it into the side of Alec’s neck to help calm my nerves.
“How does this make you feel, to know people are looking at you?”
“Scared,” I breathe.
“You’re in my hands, Victoria. You have nothing to be scared of.”
He moves his head back, and I feel the loss of his comfort.
“Spread your legs.”
When I step my feet apart, he brings his hand through my legs from behind and cups my pussy, kicking up my heart rate. I brace my hands against the window my breath is fogging up, and my knees nearly give out when he shoves a finger inside me. He begins pumping his hand up into me, and when I look back down, only a few people are peering up at us as they continue to rush along in pace with the crowd.
The moment a woman looks up and locks eyes with me, a rush of adrenaline floods into my bloodstream. It’s an unexpected feeling that comes out of nowhere, but one that turns me on. Alec continues to touch me as my nipples ache against the frigid glass. It’s the end of March, but the winter is still bitterly cold.
Alec grabs ahold of my hips, and when I push my ass out, he finally gives me what I’ve been burning for. He thrusts into me, pinning my body flat against the window. I know people are watching us, but the pleasure is so overwhelming that I can’t find any strength to open my eyes. It’s all I can do to remain standing while Alec fucks me with unforgiving passion. I reach behind and wrap my hand around the back of his neck, urging him forward.
He kisses my shoulder before bringing his lips to my ear. “I love the way your pussy feels wrapped around my cock.”
“Oh, God,” I moan loudly when he gives me his crass words.
“You’re so fucking wet, I can feel you dripping down my balls.”
“Alec . . .”
“Say my name again.”
“Alec,” I pant as the throbbing in my clit becomes too much to tolerate, and I beg, “Touch my pussy, Alec.”
The moment I say those words, his cock twitches inside me, swelling in desire, and when he touches me with his fingers, my whole body bucks in ecstasy. I cum into his hand while he strokes my clit and fucks me. My whole body quivers as I struggle to remain standing.
Alec bands his free arm around my stomach and holds me close to keep me from falling. I cry out his name once more and he loses himself right along with me. Our bodies jerk and tremble together as we get off. I grab his hand that’s still between my legs and grind down, enjoying every piece of this orgasm before we give way and lower ourselves to the floor.
As my heartbeat slows, I’m able to think coherently, and I can’t believe that strangers just watched us having sex. Up until now, we’ve been so private with each other, but I knew it was only a matter of time until this particular fetish of his would come into play. It wasn’t as terrifying as I thought it would be. I know he’s been slowly guiding me to this point, never rushing me. I wear my emotions on my sleeve so it’s been no secret between us how reluctant I’ve been with every step. But with everything we do, he proves to be a man I can trust my body with. Never once has he made me feel unsafe.
Alec lies on top of me, and when he brushes a lock of hair away from my damp forehead, he gently asks, “Are you okay?” as he always does.
I love this about him, that through his strong personality, he nurtures me. It’s in these rare moments that I can feel myself softening to him. I never felt like anyone looked out for me as a child—never felt tenderness from my parents. My father left when I was only three years old, and my mother wasn’t the affectionate type. And even though I know Landon cares deeply for me, I never felt as if he held my entire being the way Alec does.
“I’m okay,” I murmur as my body tingles in placidity.
“You surprised me.”
“I did?”
“I thought you’d resist me on that.”
“A part of me wanted to,” I admit.
“Why didn’t you?”
I run my hands up his arms and over his shoulders. “Because I know it’s something you need. And because I trust you.”
He stares down at me while I continue to run my hands along his arms and back, and when he drops his forehead to mine, he asks, “Why haven’t you left him yet?”
His words feel like splashes of acid on my heart. Landon is the last thing I need to be thinking about while Alec and I are lying here naked with each other.
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“I do.” His tone is firm, and I know he isn’t going to drop this conversation.
He shifts off me and we both sit up.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Alec.”
“You can’t hurt me,” he states. “I just want to know.”
“I’m scared of what it’ll do to my girls if I left. My parents divorced when I was little, and I swore that I’d never put my children through that. The pain I feel for them when I consider leaving my husband is unfathomable,” I explain. “I’m their mother. I’m supposed to protect them, not put them directly in the line of fire.”
“It doesn’t have to be as brutal as what you’re thinking,” he says. “I’d be more concerned with the fact that you’re teaching them that it’s okay to be with someone who doesn’t make you happy.”
“Landon’s a good dad,” I defend.
“But you two fight?”
“Yes.”
“He yells at you?”
“I deserve it.”
His eyes narrow, irritated with what I just said. “How long are you going to be his punching bag?”
I never thought of how my marriage would affect my girls. He’s right. What am I teaching them about relationships? I feel so much remorse for what I’m doing that I allow Landon to throw insults my way when he’s mad at me. It’s a pathetic excuse for atonement, but I allow it nonetheless. The girls can hear us when we fight, and I don’t want them to think it’s okay for a man to talk to a woman like that. They have no idea what I’ve done to hurt their father, all they know is that their father spews disgusting words into their mother’s face.
“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.” Alec doesn’t move as he watches my pain surface. “There’s no way to protect my girls from having their hearts broken, but you’re right, I’m setting an awful example for them. I wish I had someone who would just tell me what the right thing is to do.”
“Life doesn’t work that way. Sometimes we have to make hard choices, but just because they’re hard, doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”
; I blink sadness away when I feel the burn of unsteady tears. Alec finally reaches out for me and pulls me into his arms.
“Do you love him?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t love him.” I draw back and look at him. “When you love someone, you know it. The fact that you’re confused tells me that you’re just scared to admit the truth that you no longer love your husband.”
What if he’s right? What if it’s fear that’s making everything so unclear?
“Are you happy?” he questions.
“No.”
“Do you want to be?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Tell me what makes you happy?”
“Aside from my girls . . . you.”
I run through the lobby, fly out the doors, and hail a cab.
“Where to?” the driver asks, and I tell him the hotel where the book signing is being held.
“As fast as you can get me there, please.”
I open my purse and pull out my compact to freshen up my face. Spending the night with Alec was amazing. We were finally able to be with each other without any interruptions. If he wasn’t waking me up for sex, then it was me waking him up. We went at it all night long while drifting in and out of sleep. And this morning, I had to force myself out the door.
If it weren’t for Brooke, I would totally ditch this signing just to be with Alec. Our time together is always so limited that I feel an urgency to take all I can get. But it never fails that I’m left wanting more. That’s the thing about affairs, I guess. We never have each other long enough to feel satisfied¸ and when I’m not with him, I’m always panicked and anticipating the next time I’ll see him again.
When the cab pulls along the curb of the hotel, I throw him enough cash for the ride and tip and jump out. I normally take my time putting myself together for these events, but when I burst through the doors, I’m an hour late with only a touch of makeup on.
“You’re late,” Brooke snaps from her chair.
She has the whole table already set up, and the guilt returns.
“I’m sorry. Traffic was really bad,” I lie.
Her face is mottled in irritation. “You missed the author photo.”
“I hate those things anyway.”
“Doesn’t matter. It makes you look unprofessional.”
“I know I’m an asshole,” I tell her, “but can we try to get through today without being so abrasive?”
“You’re calling me abrasive?”
“No,” I say, back-stepping my words. “I meant us.”
She forces a smile. “I’ll be good.”
When the doors open to the readers, it’s a whirlwind I’m unable to enjoy. Sitting next to my best friend and watching her work her pregnant ass off is undeserving. I screwed her over. She didn’t have to show up today, she could’ve screwed me over too, but she didn’t. She showed up for me—to support me. She’s a much better person than I am, and I’m nowhere near worthy of her friendship right now.
Not one picture was taken with a genuine smile today. Everything about this signing was a lie. Every fan I met felt like a deception. They have no idea the thorns I bear under these clothes. They’d be better off to stay away from me because all I seem to do these days is hurt people. I’m a total fraud, but not one person who walked through this room today knows that fact besides Brooke.
She’s knows the rot I’ve become.
“Let me help you pack this stuff up,” I offer when she picks up a stack of books.
“I’ve got it,” she dismisses. “Just go.”
“Brooke—”
“What?” she snaps. “Is there something you want to say to make yourself feel better about being a total bitch to me?”
I bite my tongue because no matter what I say, I’m only going to make this situation worse.
Brooke grabs my purse and holds it out for me. She won’t even look me in the eyes, and when I take the purse from her, I attempt to apologize, but she cuts me off. “Yeah, I know. You’re sorry. But not sorry enough because we both know where you’re going when you leave.”
Shame and guilt sock me in my stomach, and before I break down in front of this room full of authors, bloggers, and a few lingering fans, I duck my head and rush out. I shield my face that’s covered in tears with my hand as I hightail it out of the hotel. I don’t even bother trying to catch a cab; I’d rather lose myself in the sea of people.
“Victoria!”
I turn back to where I just came from and see Alec pushing his way to catch up to me.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was waiting for you,” he says, and when he finally reaches me, he grabs my face in worriment, asking, “What happened? Are you okay?”
Passersby zip around us, bumping our shoulders, and I’m scared that a reader or an author might see us.
“Alec, we can’t be here,” I panic. “There’s too many people around that know who I am.”
Without missing a beat, he takes me under his arm and hails a cab.
“What happened?” he asks once we’re tucked away in a stale-smelling taxi and heading back to the W.
I wipe sadness from my cheeks. “It’s my fault. I deserve to feel this way.”
“Why are you being so hard on yourself?”
“Because I’m selfish,” I snap. “I’m weak and self-centered and—”
“Enough,” he halts with agitation. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to you beat yourself up. You want to do that? Do it with someone else. Because when I look at you, I don’t see any of that shit.”
“How can you think for one second that what I’m doing isn’t selfish?”
“Because I only care about who you are when you’re with me. I don’t want to think about who you are when you go home to your husband. I already know you’re fake as shit with that man, but that’s not the same woman who shows up at my door.”
I flick my eyes to the rearview mirror and catch the driver silently scorning me before diverting his eyes back to the road. Even he knows how atrocious I am.
“Look at me,” Alec demands. “This situation is far from ideal, but you’re not in it alone. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
“You are, but—”
“No buts. All that matters is that I’m here and that I’m fucking crazy about you. Leave all that other bullshit behind. I don’t want to piss away the short amount of time we have together.”
His words come out harsh, but I can understand where he’s coming from. He didn’t have to come to New York, but he did, and I shouldn’t be tearing down what we have together by listing all the reasons why it’s wrong.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
When the cab drops us off at the hotel, I’m thoroughly drained and hungry. We find a quiet spot in the lounge to settle and enjoy a drink before heading to the room to freshen up for our dinner reservation.
After applying a touch of mascara to my lashes, I walk out of the bathroom to find Alec wearing the same clothes from earlier as he sits on the edge of the bed.
“Why haven’t you changed?”
He holds out my disposable cell phone and says, “Change of plans.”
I cowardly take the phone from him, worried that whatever I’m about to look at has something to do with Landon, but I’m instantly relieved when I look at the screen to see a text exchange between me and Brooke.
When I look at Alec in confusion, he tells me, “I got her number from your other phone. I didn’t know if your husband was still checking up on you.”
I read the text he sent her, inviting her out to dinner.
“I texted her and let her think the messages were coming from you.”
I’m blown away that he would sacrifice his time with me tonight so that I can try to mend my relationship with my best friend.
“Alec . . .”
“You two can take the reservation.”
“Are you sure?”
“I wouldn’t have tex
ted her if I weren’t.”
I step between his legs, amazed by his selflessness, and run my hands over his shoulders.
“I can’t believe you did this for me.”
“There isn’t much that I wouldn’t do for you.”
He pulls me into his arms, and we kiss as he holds on to me tightly. This is what I wish Brooke could see, that Alec doesn’t have questionable character, that he has a good heart, that he cares for me, and that he’s simply caught up in this mess that I take full responsibility for. It’s only because of me that she believes Alec acts in Machiavellian ways. I’m the deceiver, I’m the wretch, I’m the miscreant.
I miss Alec the moment I leave him to meet Brooke. I arrive at the restaurant before she does, and when the host seats me, I order a glass of wine to calm the swarm of emotions that are attacking me from the inside out.
A few minutes pass before Brooke shows up.
“I didn’t know we’d be meeting at such a nice restaurant,” she says when she sits. “I’m way underdressed.”
“You look fine.”
I struggle to think of what I should say to her as she looks over the menu. I want to say I’m sorry, but I’ve said it too many times at this point that I’m sure it only comes across as meaningless. This isn’t the first time our friendship has hit a rocky spot. We’ve been friends for fifteen years and have had many ups and downs, but this is the first time we’ve dealt with a situation of this magnitude.
Our waiter stops by, and after he presents this evening’s chef selections, he scurries off.
The silence grows to an uncomfortable level, and I decide to just say the first thing that’s weighing on me the most.
“I can’t lose you, Brooke.” Saying the words aloud hurts worse than I thought it would.
“You’re not going to lose me.”
“Then why does it feel that way?”
“Because this is a fuck-up of epic proportions,” she says. “I want to understand you, but I just can’t. You’re my best friend, but I don’t recognize this person you’ve become.”
I don’t respond because what can I say when I don’t even recognize myself?
“I want to be here for you, but I’m terrified to stand by and watch you destroy yourself. I’m scared I won’t be strong enough to help you pick up the pieces when this all falls apart.”