And that was spending the night alone.
***
I banged repeatedly on the huge wooden door until it swung open. My face broke into a grin.
“Coop,” I yelled, collapsing into his arms. If he hadn’t opened the door at that very moment, I probably would’ve collapsed into it. I was so sleepy. I glanced around the hallway of Coop’s place as the room began to spin out of control.
Oh, shit. This isn’t good.
“Beth? Are you feeling okay?” Coop asked, carrying me inside. “What the fuck happened to your face?”
I giggled and gazed up at him. God, look at those eyes.
“I’m okay, Coop. Just loosening up,” I muttered, and struggled out of his arms. His strong, sexy arms… I unbuttoned my jacket.
“Coop, where shall I put this—”
Jake stopped midsentence, his jaw dropping to the floor. He stood there, a bottle of wine in his hand, gaping at me as I tossed the jacket onto the sofa. I glanced down and giggled. Oopsie. I’d forgotten to get dressed.
“Jake,” Coop said urgently. He grabbed my jacket and threw it around me. “Do not let either of them in here. I’m taking Beth home.”
Jake, still frozen to the spot, didn’t respond.
“Jake!”
He snapped back to reality, and nodded. “Okay, go.” He threw his keys to Coop. “Take my car. I’m just out front.” Coop led me out to the car. I sighed, happy that he was there for me. I felt so much better when he was around me. Protected.
“Beth? Can you tell me what you’ve taken?” he asked, shaking me gently.
Opening one eye, I looked at him, embarrassed. My face heated up as I slowly remembered what had happened. All I wanted to do was sleep and never wake up.
“Just some coke. No big deal . . .” I mumbled, slipping into darkness.
“What’s wrong with her?”
“She told me she took some cocaine.”
“Come with me. The more you can help me, the better your friend will be.”
“Now, what’s your friend’s name?”
“Bethany Masters.”
***
My eyes fluttered open, the glaring light from above almost blinding me. Coop sat next to the bed. I swallowed and looked away; I couldn’t stand to see the pity in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Coop.”
“What the hell, Beth? Since when do you do drugs?” His voice came out harsh, laced with anger and frustration.
I cringed, not in the mood to explain. I didn’t care. I shrugged weakly. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”
“No, you don’t get to blow me off. You’ve been acting weird since yesterday. Are you angry at me for last night?” He leaned over, running a finger softly over one of my bruises. “Who did this to you, Beth?”
I shook my head as warm tears splashed my cheeks. “Just leave it, Coop. Please.” I rolled over so he wouldn’t see me crying. “Please go. And don’t contact me anymore, okay?”
“What?” he said incredulously, confusion flashing in his eyes.
“Go,” I yelled. “Get out!” I held my breath and waited until I could hear his footsteps fading away.
Chapter One
Beth
Two months later…
The pretty blonde smiled at me as she leaned against the wall, her fingers lingering on my hip. Her deep green eyes caught mine as her hand wandered up the curve of my almost-bare back before wrapping around my neck and pulling me in. Her lips, so soft and feminine, crushed me as her manicured nails dug into the base of my head. I kissed her back, the faint scent of cherry lip-gloss hitting my nose as my tongue curled around hers.
The small crowd of mostly men that had gathered next to us cheered as we kissed, a few wolf whistles echoing over the pounding music. Spurred on by the attention, my hands roamed over the top of her skimpy silk tank, following the curves of her breasts as I gave the boys a show. Another round of cheers erupted as my hand moved under her top, my fingers dipping into the cup of her bra as she giggled and kissed me again.
“Take it off!” someone yelled. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a small group of women standing near the bar, whispering and pointing at us. I rolled my eyes.
Being a twenty-year-old pop star, if they weren’t talking about you, then you were old news, and people were always talking about me. A girl-on-girl experience is practically a rite of passage in the world of pop. If you didn’t do it at least once, you weren’t doing things right. And if you didn’t do it at all, they’d most likely make it up anyway, so why the hell not?
I wasn’t really into girls, but it felt good to wind the boys up, and apparently nothing did that better than making out with another chick. I could hear the sound of clicking cameras in the distance, and I knew this would probably end up on the front page of some magazine tomorrow.
Bethany Masters’ Lesbian Romp.
But who really gave a damn? I didn’t.
I’d tried being the good girl, and nobody had cared—least of all him. The gossip columns were forever making things up about me, so it wasn’t like I actually had a reputation to ruin here. And besides, being bad felt good. It dulled the pain of losing him and . . . the rape.
I shuddered, Ivan’s face flashing through my mind. Having to see him every day was hard. The way he looked at me, like he had won. All reporting him would have done is give him the satisfaction of everyone knowing what had happened, or at least what I claimed to have happened. It was hard enough to prove a rape without all my history. Sucking it up and moving on was my way of not letting him win.
But that didn’t stop the nightmares, or the pain I felt, or that every time I closed my eyes he was what I saw, over me . . . inside me.
This? Going out, getting drunk, and acting up?
This was how I coped. Alcohol fixed everything. It took away all those niggling little thoughts in the back of my head that reminded me of that night. Alcohol transformed me from the scared, vulnerable girl I had become into someone with no problems and no inhibitions. Without it, I don’t know how I’d have survived the last two months. Who cared what effect it was having on my life? Getting through each day was all that mattered. It stopped my every thought from going back to how Coop had deserted me when I’d needed him most.
In his defense, our relationship hadn’t exactly been normal. I’d been paying him for sex. Somehow, I’d fallen hard for him; then he’d fallen for some other woman, and I’d been left with nobody. I could’ve gotten past that, but we were supposed to have been friends. Friends don’t treat each other the way he’d treated me. The moment she felt insecure about his friendship, he’d cut me off. I’d been there for him when he’d needed help, and it hurt that he hadn’t done the same for me.
Fuck him. I didn’t need anyone. I’d handled the last five years before him on my own, so I sure as hell could handle myself now.
***
“Here we go,” I yelled to the cheering crowd as I downed another shot. The liquid burned as it slid down my throat, the buzz from the alcohol filling my head, blocking everything else out.
“Come with me?” Blondie asked coyly, her hand slipping into mine.
I hesitated, and then nodded. “Sure, just give me a sec.” I waded through the crowd toward the bathroom. I needed to be alone. The panic attacks didn’t come often, and my usual way of treating them was with more alcohol. Pushing though the heavy bathroom door, I staggered up to the sinks.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I’d dyed my long auburn hair a dirty blonde after the rape. Coop had loved my hair—that’s why it had to go. Seeing it reminded me of how in love with him I still was.
Maybe I should’ve gone black. It would have suited my mood, and royally pissed Ivan off. Or better yet, I could shave it all off. I sniggered at the thought.
My green eyes stared back at me, void of emotion, almost dead. I rifled through my clutch for my mascara and brushed a thin layer over my lashes. Reaching for my phone, I saw a message from Coop. I sighed
as I opened and read it.
Will you please fucking answer my messages? I’m worried about you. I’m sorry that I didn’t answer your call before, but I’m here for you now, Beth. I don’t want to lose you. Please, just let me know you’re okay. Wherever you are, I’ll come get you, and take you back home.
He’s worried about me? I snorted. Fuck you, Coop. And how the hell did he know I wasn’t at home? Was he following me now? Anger boiled up inside me as I slammed my fist down on the white marble surface.
Ignoring the pain shooting through my wrist, I shut off the phone and shoved it back in my purse, trying to pretend his words hadn’t affected me. But they had. They always did. I felt the tears welling up, but I tossed back those emotions. I refused to cry. I needed to feel nothing, because the moment I opened that door and let myself grieve, I wasn’t sure how I would go on.
The last time we’d spoken had been almost two months ago now, and since then, every day he’d sent a message or tried to call. But I just couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t be his friend. Not right now. Why the hell hadn’t he gotten the message?
***
I splashed water on my face, the cold snapping me back to the present. Taking a deep breath, I ran a sheet of paper towel over my cheeks and walked back into the club, moving through the masses of bodies back to Blondie.
The Marz Bar was where you hung out to be seen. Full of stars and wannabes, it was a place that would definitely get you noticed. This place crawled with paparazzi just waiting for the shot that would push them into the big league. Not surprisingly, I had a trail of them following the blonde and me as she led me into the VIP area at the back of the club.
Two tall and muscly security men stood guarding the entrance. Both wore a menacing expression, which made me confident that there was no chance of anyone who shouldn’t be here sneaking through. I eyed the men as Blondie led me past them. The giant bear on the right gave me a sly grin, so I dropped my gaze to his crotch and licked my lips. He shuffled uncomfortably, which made me giggle. Men were so damn easy.
What exactly was I doing? No idea. I was more than slightly sloshed, and a little bit horny. As I said, women usually weren’t my thing, but the way Blondie’s tight, black dress was riding up her perky little ass was making me frisky. Alcohol gave me a glimpse of the old Beth. I can’t explain the relief, knowing she was still in there . . . somewhere.
Inside the VIP area, Blondie pushed me up against the wall, her hands cupping my breasts as she began to lick my neck.
“You feel like a little fun?” she muttered, her lips working their way down beneath the thin fabric of my low-cut dress. I smiled, moaning in response. She led me down the hall and into an empty room. My eyes darted from the leather sofa that lay against the back wall to the private bar in the corner and back to Blondie, who was grinding herself against me.
I didn’t see him at first. I was too busy trying to tug that damn dress off her.
My first realization that we weren’t alone was when I felt him—behind me. His hands ran over the curves of my hips. I jumped back, my body pressing into his. I should’ve been scared—hell, this whole situation should have terrified me—but there was something calming about his presence and the way he was touching me. I stepped back further, the alcohol driving my confidence as I began to grind my hips into his crotch.
“You did well, Scarlett. Very well,” he murmured in my ear as he hardened against my ass. His voice was deep and smooth like the finest chocolate. The blonde began to smile, enjoying the praise. She lifted her dress over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then undid her bra, her rounded breasts bouncing out of containment. I eyed her, my mouth drying up as a familiar feeling stirred in my stomach. I know I said I wasn’t into chicks, but God help me, if I were . . .
Slowly, he turned me around. This whole experience was beginning to get very hot very fast, and was exactly what I needed. I’d come here tonight looking for something, and I was convinced this was it.
His arm slipped around my waist as I looked up into the deepest pair of brown eyes I’d ever seen. They almost looked as though they were melting. Or maybe I was melting into him.
He was quite possibly one of the most attractive men I’d ever seen, albeit a little older than the boys I was used to playing with. Coop had been twenty-five, but this guy had to be in his mid thirties—almost twice my age. But his age had no effect on how attractive I found him.
That dark hair—cropped short, but still with the slightest wave to it—and the way his lip curved up on one side when he looked at me made me wet. His tie was loosened with the top two buttons of his white shirt undone, and his charcoal pants did nothing to hide how well equipped he was, especially in his excited state. My head began to spin as I inhaled his scent, musky and sweet. I just wanted to lick him . . . among other things.
My heart began to race as his fingers traced my hairline, then down my neck and over my collarbone. They stopped just short of my chest, waiting, as his gaze burned into me. There was something so confident about this man . . . He’s irresistible.
I knew nothing about him, yet I needed him. He was the key to allowing me to forget, at least for one night. I needed to use him to erase the hounding thoughts in my head.
Blondie pressed up against me and I jumped again. Disappointment rushed through me as I remembered we weren’t alone. I’d forgotten about her.
I tilted my neck as she kissed me, my eyes never leaving his. He nodded at Blondie, who walked around in front of me as he sat down, his leg crossing over his knee, his arms stretched out over the back of the sofa.
“He wants to watch us,” she whispered in my ear, her hands roaming underneath the hem of my dress, riding it up.
Hell, I’ll give this guy whatever he wants.
I turned toward her and lifted my lips to hers. We kissed, her mouth pressed against mine, the softness of her skin so sexy and unusual. It felt so erotic making out with another girl. Kissing a guy was always so rough and raw. There was none of that here; it was all gentle and slow. Oddly, I found it just as arousing.
Unzipping the back of my dress, I lifted it over my head as Scarlett sat down on the plush leather sofa opposite him. He was looking at me as my dress fell to the hardwood floor in a heap. From either the cool breeze sneaking through the open window, or under his gaze, I began to shiver. My nipples ached against the constriction of my bra. I longed to give myself to this man. I wanted his mouth on every inch of my body. Moving toward Scarlett, I stumbled over my heels.
She held out her hand to steady me as I sat down on her lap, one leg either side so I was straddling her, giving him a perfect view of my ass. My back was to him, but I could feel his eyes burning into me.
Scarlett lifted her arms around my neck and pulled me down to her, our lips entangling in a deep, slow kiss. With one hand holding the back of my neck, the other began to trail down my body. I moaned as her fingers moved over my strapless black bra and down past my stomach, finally resting on the damp lace fabric between my legs. I was wet. So wet. I never thought I could be this turned on by another woman, but she was beautiful, and doing this with her in front of him was almost enough to make me lose control.
I breathed in sharply as her fingers thrust inside of me, pushing aside my thong like it had no business being there. My grip on her shoulders tightened as she explored me so intimately, her eyes flashing with excitement and determination, like my pleasure was her only goal.
I moaned softly, my body jerking to the rhythm of her fingers, desperate for more of her, as much as she would give me. For a moment I almost forgot about him, but then the memory of those insanely sexy brown eyes came flooding back to me like a giant wave crashing over a bed of rocks.
“How does she feel, Scarlett? Is she wet for you?” His deep voice cut through me.
Scarlett nodded, her fingers continuing to thrust inside me as she held my gaze.
“She’s wet. She’s very wet. And so soft, too.” She bit her lip as she pull
ed me in for another kiss. A little whimper escaped from me, and all I could do was try my hardest not to scream in ecstasy as this tiny little blonde beauty with perfect little breasts finger-fucked me out of this planet with one of the hottest men I’d ever seen looking on.
Was he palming himself as he watched us? The thought of him sitting there fisting his hard cock as he watched her fingers move in and out of me had me ready to explode. I couldn’t hold on much longer, no matter how badly I wanted this feeling to last forever.
And then it happened. I began to orgasm. A strangled cry escaped from my lips as I wrapped my arms around her neck, my pussy begging her fingers to delve deeper.
“Keep going, yes,” I cried as her fingers circled around my clit. I wanted more, and I needed her to stop. I couldn’t handle it, but oh God, how I needed it. Clenching my thighs, I forced her to finish, every part of me throbbing, aching.
Holy fuck, that was incredible. I fell onto my back, my head resting on the arm of the sofa, and my legs sprawled out over Scarlett. I met his gaze. His eyes burned into mine, a look of longing etched across his beautiful face. My eyes traveled downward to the huge bulge in his pants. I was surprised. He’d sat there that entire time and not gotten himself off.
I smiled lazily at him as Scarlett’s fingers trailed over my legs, the pressure of her nails on my skin almost bringing me to another orgasm. He watched me intensely as I played with my nipples, trying to make him squirm. He held his own, though, his left eyebrow lifting as a sly grin spread across his mouth.
“Scarlett. You can go now.” She stood up and nodded, quickly dressing. I looked from her and back to him, almost in awe at the allure of mystery he oozed. He intimidated me. I was used to men falling at my feet, but he was different. He made me feel less in control than I needed to be.
Scarlett scampered out of the room, leaving me alone with him. He walked over to me, his fingers running down my collarbone and over my panties. I breathed in sharply. Why did he have such an effect on me? He’d barely touched me, yet this was the most sensual experience of my entire life.
Promiscuous Page 2