by Pamela Ann
And she would. I knew Cara quite well. She was terrible at resisting temptation when her body overtook her mind. All she could think about was the havoc in her tight cunt seeking release. I should know, I used her wantonness against her like a damn weapon.
Chapter Eighteen
River
The club was loud, crazy, and people were in great party spirit. The VIP section was jam-packed with people that were part of my team. It was a celebratory night, and every night after every successful arena show that was lined up for weeks to come.
My right knuckles were bandaged up, but the need to punch something hadn’t dissipated. I was the complete depiction of catastrophe—disheveled hair, tear-stained shirt, a murderous expression that was directed to everyone except for the woman who had caused it.
Cara stuck to my side like damn glue. I wasn’t sure if she was terrified I’d leave her, or she was making sure I wasn’t going to get into trouble. Whatever it was, she remained by my side, making it known that she wasn’t intimidated by my mercurial attitude.
People noticed her. Of course they did. Cara had grown into a bold, confident woman who commanded unwanted attention with the way she gazed at people. She had those penetrative eyes, the ones that warned you she’d suck your soul dry if you gave her the chance. At the same time, she had a beguiling look, a temptress that promised a night of passion. Anyone with a dick got hard just by looking at her. What straight man wouldn’t?
Like tonight, she was all dolled up, looking like an elegant, sexy angel. Normally, I’d get territorial, but I felt no such thing. I was a blank space, devoid of any emotion, devoid of life.
Angel…
I snorted at the thought. Cara wasn’t an angel any longer. She had transformed into something I didn’t want to be a part of—a vain, selfish, self-serving slut that most Hollywood actresses were known for.
What made me think she was going to be different? It was a blatant warning when she had entered the scene. However, I had been too fucked up, too caught up possessing her again that I didn’t even pause to think that she would eventually serve me the same cold, remorseless dish like I had before, once upon a time.
The society I revolved in was already full of bullshit; I didn’t need that same venal energy in my personal life.
The anger I felt over an hour ago had pitted deeply into my system. It sought a dark side of me, fed on it, raged within me like a caged animal needing to be freed. It churned into something ferocious, and I could feel the hate begin to take a life of its own.
I drank myself to stupor, trying my damnedest to block all the bad shit that was taking hold of my mind.
Cara tried to act like a doting girlfriend, but I couldn’t speak to her. I guessed I was too tempted to lash out and ask her how she liked being a total shameless slut? Instead, I kept my mouth shut, for both our sakes.
That Spanish bastard was probably getting a kick out of this whole thing. And if rumors got out that my girlfriend was cheating on me with him, the guy would skyrocket to fame. Sleazebags always used that method to get themselves more publicity. The more scandalous the story, the better the exposure. Cara was an easy target. And she fucking fell right into it. Hook, line, and finger.
Though my senses registered each move she made, each long drawn sigh, each time she fidgeted, and every single time she glanced at me with that cute frowning face of hers, I detected them all. Not once did I reach out or pretend that I was enjoying her company, though. It would’ve suited us better had she gone back to the hotel, but she had been adamant on accompanying me. Arguing with her would’ve meant I spoke to her, and I’d rather not. The words that were at the tip of my tongue were too callous, even for her. Again, for both our sakes, my silence was golden.
Ari had warned me to stay drama-free and be out of relationships for the next year or so, but I didn’t care. I wanted Cara like I needed air to survive. No woman fired my blood the way she could. She alone could drive me mental and send me to heaven in a heartbeat. She was my weakness and my strength, and the mere thought of losing her again made me want to burn something, commit murder, overdose on something strong—anything destructive to satisfy this monster taking hold of me, I’d be grateful for.
“You okay, fool? Who pissed you off?” Phoenix sat across the table, squinting at me while he held a vodka and a cigarette. “You look like you ‘bout to kill someone.” He eyed me like one of those speculators at a boxing match, waiting for a good fight. “Who tha’ fucker at? Lemme light his ass up.”
When Phoenix started talking mad slang, it was a sign that the man was buzzing—buzzing really good.
I nonchalantly twirled the contents in my glass. The ice clinked with each twirl before I shook my head and took the shot. I welcomed the burn. It relieved the tumultuous violence in my chest, a balm I needed—anything to numb the pitting ache.
“It’s one of those nights, man … just one of those damn nights,” I muttered, not meeting his inquisitive eyes as I poured another serving of vodka.
Before Phoenix got the chance to interrogate me further, someone strode into our VIP area, blocking my view. Hot pink stilettos and a Barbie pink top. I didn’t need to glance up to match the face.
“Stassy.”
“River …” Ari’s niece, Stassy, cooed before bending over and giving me a tight boob hug. “You’re the best. Loved the whole thing, babe.” She pouted her injected lips before kissing my cheek then sashayed away.
Stassy’s hugs were the kind that made me feel a little molested. The woman never failed to rub her tits on me. Look, I was a titty man, but that was just plain rude. The things women did to get a man’s attention these days were just too sad. If the man desired a woman, he’d move heaven and earth to acquire her. There was no gray in that. Excuses would only prolong misery. Cut the losses and move the fuck on.
Tipping my head back as the smooth liquid glided down my throat, my eyes travelled to Stassy, at the table next to us, and when she caught me looking at her, she winked.
Stassy was going to be messy. I wasn’t sure why Ari arranged for her to be a part of this production. I mean, did she do anything productive other than party with us? She was great and all, sweet even, but what the fuck was she following us around for? If Ari planted her as his spy, I wouldn’t be surprised. If he intended for her to be my plaything, again I wouldn’t be surprised. Ari Braun covered all his bases. Most especially his biggest client. He catered to my whims, known and unknown.
“If she stuck to you for a second longer, I’d have punched her throat!” Cara hissed, fuming by my side.
She was getting jealous? Good. At least she’d get a little taste of her disgusting medicine. Her hand rested against the side of my thigh, as if she wanted some sort of connection but was too terrified to take action.
Phoenix, tired of the ongoing drama blatantly unfolding before him, stood up and downed the rest of his drink. “Aiight, I’m gonna go spin some good shit.” He grinned at me before he chucked a bottle of vodka my way, which I caught in one swift grab. “And for fuck’s sake, smile, fucker! You have so much to celebrate tonight.”
“Hell yeah, it’s gonna be a roll of good times! GOOD. FUCKING. TIMES. ” I devilishly snickered before cracking the bottle open and poured myself another round.
A wretched, deep grunt echoed from the person next to me. “You’re punishing me—I get it—but please, you know how jealousy gets me. It’s hurting me.”
She’s hurting? The fuck she is! What right did she have to complain? Had she kept her legs closed, we’d be in a good place now. We’d probably be back in the hotel, sweating each other off, and I’d be between her thighs or behind her, pounding into that tight ass, just as I dreamt every single night since she had left.
But look at us now. She just had to get her pussy tickled. Fuck this. Fuck her.
I couldn’t even look at her without wanting to drag her somewhere and punish her the way she ought to be. At the same time, the mere thought of touching her whe
re this Juan Torres had just touched last night, fucked me up a great deal.
I was jealous, torn, murderous, unhinged, all balled into one giant mess.
Cara shifted and leaned a little closer to me, giving me a whiff of her scent. I recoiled when the smell assaulted my nostrils. My nose crinkled before I cocked my head to the side, offended by the memories assaulting me by a single whiff of her fragrance. Yes, I was so affronted that my cock began to harden at her signature musk. Stupid dick.
“When are we leaving? I want to have that talk.” She inched closer, blanketing my space with her aroma.
Son of a gun. Could she back off a little? Fuck.
“We can talk here,” I grunted out as my hand shook a little, trying to control the hunger created by her closeness. Damn her. I need another shot.
Waiting to have “the talk” in the hotel could lead to something ugly, and I’d rather do it here where I could contain myself. By the way my body was reacting to her, I didn’t trust myself, not knowing if I wanted to choke her or fuck the living daylights out her, pillaging that tight ass as previously planned. So yeah, my mental state was fifty-fifty.
“How do you suppose we achieve that? I can’t keep whispering and shit! This is driving me nuts. I can’t sit here and pretend everything’s gravy. We have to settle this now. I beg you.”
All right. Time to cut to the chase. “I was told there’s a room in the back for us to use. We can go there.” The throb on the side of my temple pounded again as I took a quick swig of my drink and slammed it down the counterpane. Then I stood and began to stride towards the back entrance.
Her heels made clack-clack sounds with each step she took. And when I reached the brightly lit room, she took another thirty seconds before I secured and locked the door behind her. The last thing we needed was for someone to pop in, like Willa did earlier.
The room wasn’t large at all, just enough for their VIP guest to have a quick break before and after the party. The entire room was painted black. Paneled mirrors lined the entire room, alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages sat on a table top in the middle of the area. Two red leather sofas. Little decorated plates of fruits and sandwiches. And the loud thumping of EDM music vibrated into the walls, but it was enough to carry on a decent conversation without having to yell.
This should do.
Hands in my pocket, I leaned against the furthest wall before taking a good look at the woman who was about to walk out of my life for good. She was a fidgeting, lip licking mess. Her eyes were pink from unshed tears, boring into my dead ones, silently begging for mercy, for forgiveness.
I’m going to miss her so much, my mind reminded me. Fuck it! Let’s get this over with. She’d leave, so I’d best come to terms with it. Damn it all to hell.
“What’s the answer, Cara?” My voice was devoid of any emotion, my eyes not backing down from the tumultuous silent battle.
“I love you,” she shakily whispered. “There’s not enough words to describe just how much, but I can’t grant what you’re demanding of me. I’ve worked too hard to get here. An inflated ultimatum to sacrifice my career for your own selfish reasons. If you love me enough, you’d give me this second chance to prove that I’m yours. I’ll take extra care when making decisions from now on. I’m ready to grovel, to take whatever punishment you see fit, but don’t ask me to quit my passion. It’s my life. It means everything to me.” She paused, taking a step towards me. “I’m so, so very sorry for putting us in this miserable position. I fucked up, but give me a little credit for telling you that I did; that I’ve betrayed you in the most horrible way and how I’m willing to work through this, to get past this, so we can rebuild the future we planned together.”
No matter how many times she apologized, my mind was made up. I couldn’t be with someone who fantasized about another man. That was all shades fucked up. Yes, I loved her, and yes, I’d give up my life for her in a heartbeat, but what I wasn’t willing to compromise on was this giant of a mindfuck that wouldn’t go away until ties were severed. And she chose both.
I guessed, it was my turn to make a monumental decision. There was no way around it. No woman of mine was anyone’s whore. Over my dead body. If she wasn’t wholeheartedly mine, then she wasn’t mine at all. Simple as that.
“I get that you’re mad—I fucking do—but please don’t fucking flirt with women in front of me. It’s sickening. If it’s a twisted ploy to hurt me—”
“That won’t be a problem anymore,” I interjected, straight-faced, emotionless.
She opened her mouth before my words dawned on her. Then she shut it again before I saw her bottom lip wobble. “Don’t … please don’t say it.”
Not only had she broken my heart, but she had also managed to throw away the only thing that was beautiful in our lives, tainting our love, and for what? For some quick sexual high that needed to be scratched? Nah, I was done fooling myself.
“I can’t wait for you, Cara, not when I know you want him, too. There’s no fixing this. I’m done.”
She vehemently shook her head, clearly rejecting my decision. “You don’t mean that … We can’t break up!” she bemoaned as fat tears rolled down her beautiful face.
“I think we just did.”
Terror struck her pretty face. Heaving, she bawled harder and placed a hand over her heart. Cara broke down hard before her knees gave out and she collapsed on the floor.
“I can’t. You just can’t,” she wailed in pain.
Fuck, was she acting to get to me or was this for real? I was confused as hell as I powerlessly watched in horror. Whatever her motive was, it sure worked.
“Cara, please get up.” Releasing a steady breath, I reached out, wanting to pull her up, but she furiously smacked my hand away.
Out of my depth, I bent over and plucked her off the floor. Her body sagged against my chest, crying a damn river before I deposited her curling form on the couch.
She looked so defeated that I found myself sitting next to her. My body sagged against the cushion as I reached out to hold her soft, delicate hands. This time, she didn’t reject it. Hands entwined, bounded by excruciating pain, but for different reasons, rage persisted, battling within me. Yet, there was a puny part that was sorry, too, for not being enough.
Breakups were bad business. I understood why people in the business didn’t want to get caught up in a serious relationship. Not only did it require hard work from both parties, but also once it went downhill, this shit got into your mind, fucking you up, threatening to ruin everything you had worked hard for—your livelihood, your sanity, your peace of mind. It wreaked havoc in indescribable ways that would leave you fundamentally crippled—physically, mentally, emotionally. A rollercoaster of fuckery I was bound to be riding again soon enough.
It daunted me. The last time didn’t work out so well.
Lifting my face towards the ceiling, I closed my eyes as I tried not to drown in my own miserable pain.
It took Cara about fifteen minutes to quiet down. Another five for the hiccupping to stop. Another minute for the room to fall into eerie silence.
Then something shifted.
It was her hand I felt first. Soft, unassuming as she gently rested it against my thigh. Then it slowly crept from my thigh to the bulge in my pants.
Everything halted.
My world stopped spinning as my senses solely focused on that one, exploring, wicked hand.
Did she think I was sleeping? Oh hell.
While I contemplated on what to do next, I heard the metallic sound of my zipper being pulled down. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for her next move.
She slowly slid into my pants, seeking the opening of my boxer briefs. The moment she found it, she stroked my length as she gradually drew it out.
If she’s going to do what I’m thinking she’s about to do, I’m going to have a fucking heart attack. Cara never had me in her mouth. EVER. And the very thought of her doing just that, I wasn’t sure if I could handle i
t.
The suspense was killing me. I couldn’t pretend any longer. My eyes instantly snapped open, wanting this very image tattooed in my mind until I died. I had always imagined it, even desperately hinted about it, but she never singlehandedly catered to my needs this way.
Tear-stained face full of fascination, her entire focus was on my shaft, mesmerized as she stroked my turgid length up and down with acute intensity before she moved closer to my protruding hardness with one purpose in mind.
“Cara?” I nervously swallowed.
Then the impossible happened, shutting me into complete silence. Her pretty, little glossed mouth parted as she guiding it towards the fat head of my dick, slipping it halfway in before releasing it, teasing me. I groaned in vain when I felt the sweet burn of the purest feeling of ultimate euphoria.
I watched her dart out the tip of her pink tongue, licking the tiny slit of my crown in a circular motion, hypnotizing me. It glided smoothly, torturously, before she began to lightly suck on it.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! I was screaming inside. She felt so good I was about to lose my mind.
I was flabbergasted and in awe of her. My body was so wounded up I felt unhinged. My breathing became erratic from ecstasy overload. I was on the verge of combustion, and my dick was so hard it hurt. I tried to calm the fuck down by placing a hand over my face, closing my eyes again and trying to rationalize that I had gotten head since the beginning of time, that this wasn’t a big fucking deal …
Then the nymph gobbled my entire cock.
“Son of a—FUCK!” I hissed as her vacuum-like mouth locked on the base of my length before she violently shook her head, placing my dick in some kind of euphoria as it hit all kinds of nerve endings.
How did she learn this? The mindfuck began again. She had never done this with me … unless—Goddammit. The first time I got head from her, and my mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up, for fuck’s sake!
Right before the demented emotional rollercoaster began to take life in my mind, Cara took it up a notch by making wet, sucking sounds before I heard a loud pleasurable moan from her, loving the taste of my dick in her mouth. One hand steadily gripped the base of my cock, the other massaged my balls while her mouth simultaneously glided up and down, bobbing her head as she did so, milking me good. It was music to my ears.