Tainted Love

by Jaimie Roberts

  “Eighties night,” I say out loud to no one in particular. “Awesome!”

  “I know, right?” Kane responds, his eyes lighting up like a megawatt bulb.

  We’re led to our booth which has the biggest sofa I have ever seen in my life. The moment we’re seated, drinks are poured by a server who tells us she is our host for the night.

  “Whenever you want, sweetheart, come sit on daddy’s lap,” Kane purrs, patting his leg, causing the poor girl to blush.

  “Stop being a fucking arsehole, Kane, and leave the poor girl alone.” I turn my attention to the girl. “Sorry about that. They’ve been cooped up on a boat for a few days, and now they’re acting like animals.”

  She’s about to respond when Larry shouts, “Fuck me, look at that!”

  Everyone glances at where he’s staring, finding two girls locking lips by the bar, their hands running through one another’s hair, the kiss deep and passionate.

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, Larry. It’s two women kissing, so what?”

  “It’s making my cock fucking rock hard, that’s what,” he responds, rubbing at his crotch for good measure. I groan my displeasure, but that just makes Larry and the others laugh.

  “Remember, be on your fucking best behavior, lads,” Chris snaps back.

  I note that our host has gone, but all our drinks are filled. I pick my glass up. “Let’s ignore grumpikins and just enjoy ourselves, shall we?” I lift my drink up in the air, and we all clink glasses. Well, everyone except Chris. I take a good gulp of my champagne, elbowing him. “Come dance with me.”

  “I think I’ll pass,” he grumbles.

  I nudge him in the ribs, gracing him with a playful smile. “Oh, come on. I know you want to.” I lean in, whispering seductively in his ear. “Take me to the dance floor where you can show every man here that I am yours and only yours.”

  That seems to do the trick as Chris is up, pulling me with him. As we make our way to the dance floor, we can hear the lads cheering behind us. The moment we’re together, Chris yanks me to him, our hips swaying together as “Kiss” by Prince plays, the perfect song to have a sexy dance to. My body hums as our eyes lock, the anger we’d both felt now channeling into a new emotion. Chris’s hands do a slow dance from the top of my back down to my hips before placing them on my bottom. He yanks me to him, both of us breathing heavily.

  “I want to fuck you so badly right now,” he all but growls.

  “Ditto,” I respond, noting that despite his anger, he’s still a horny devil underneath.

  “But I also want to spank the fucking shit out of you too.”

  Pure heat warms my body, making my cheeks flame. Wetness dampens my knickers, my arousal making a show of itself.

  “I want that too.”

  His forehead crinkles, pain etched into his features. “I don’t like that you make me feel that way, Bri.”

  And there’s the ice-cold water that ceases my fire. “You think you hurt me, but you don’t,” I respond. I welcome pain sometimes because it’s like a form of punishment for my actions. I want him to hurt me. I want him to tell me that I’m a sick, disgusting woman for making him choose the path he chose all those months ago. It’s the least I deserve.

  “Bri, stop. I don’t want to have this fucking conversation.”

  “Fine,” I reply through gritted teeth. “I want to go back to the table then and have a drink. I’m done dancing.”

  Chris sighs but reluctantly lets me go, taking my hand as we head back to the table. When we sit back down at our seats, everyone is quiet, tension still thick in the air. I grab my drink, and for a while in silence, I just sit there, drinking and refilling, drinking and refilling. I watch the world go by, laughing when the boys do, swaying my drunk-filled head along with the music.

  Well after an hour later, Larry, Kane, and Andrew all have girls sitting on their laps, whispering in each other’s ears, the moment feeling extremely intimate. I have an inkling the guys won’t be coming back to the boat tonight. Michael is on his own, brooding as usual, sipping on champagne, and just simply… watching.

  “I need the toilet,” Chris exclaims, getting up. “Michael, watch her whilst I’m gone.”

  He walks away, and I stifle a growl, banging my flute on the table, making the champagne spill. “I’m so sick of this shit!” I shout, getting up.

  “Woah, where are you going?” Michael asks, panic set in his eyes.

  “To dance,” I snap back.

  “But Chris said…” he starts, rising from his seat.

  “I don’t care what Chris said, Michael. I’m not his fucking puppet!”

  Larry and Kane laugh their heads off, but Michael sighs his frustration. I walk away before he can make a grab for me and all but run to the dance floor before I’m yanked back to my seat. “Need You Tonight” by INXS plays as I dance my way through the throng of people, ending up next to a girl with light brown hair and eyes who also seems to be on her own. We both smile at each other, and from that moment on, adopt each other as dance partners.

  A few seconds in and I have my back to her, her body fixed to mine as we move our hips together to the beat. I turn my head to find all the guys are watching intently, no doubt loving the fact that I’m dancing provocatively with another woman. But then my eyes travel until they lock with another set which are boring holes into me. He’s standing by the sofa, his posture rigid, his fists balled at his sides. He doesn’t make a move to come get me, though. Just stands there staring. He won’t like the way I’m dancing, but he also realises he can’t go all ape on a woman for being so close to his.

  “Like a Virgin” by Madonna replaces the last song, and soon, the girl and I are switching places, her back now to mine as I grab her hips. We don’t talk to one another, just simply enjoy the silent company, all the while my eyes are fixed on the dangerously combustive body on the other side of the room. But then his head snaps to something behind me, and suddenly he’s practically marching over, his strides hurried, Hulk-like and purposeful. Michael snaps out of his chair too, climbing over the table and swiftly following him. I glance behind me to find out what’s gotten both their knickers in a twist when a set of hands clasp around my hips.

  I don’t even have time to find out who this person is, as the hands that were there are yanked from me, and before I can say a word, Chris rears his fist back and punches the guy square in the face. The people in the club start screaming, and then Michael has Chris in his grip, holding him back before he can cause any more damage. Before I’m yanked away too, I spot the guy on the floor, holding his nose, blood gushing out all around him as more people start to gather.

  “We’ve got to fucking split before security gets here,” Michael snaps, grabbing me and hauling me up. “Move, man!” Michael snaps at Chris, who’s still sneering at the guy on the floor.

  The next few seconds are a blur of bodies, loud voices, and streaming lights flying past me as Michael tries his best to get us out of the club as soon as he can. Within moments, we’re outside, and Michael is leading us towards an awaiting taxi. We don’t even wait to see if the other guys are following after. No doubt by the fun they were having, they’ll want to stay anyway. It wasn’t them causing the problems after all.

  Without a word, we climb in, and we remain in total silence the whole way home. The air is thick with tension, anger from both Chris and I palpable. I want to scream at him. Tell him he’s a fucking prick, but suddenly Michael’s words halt my thoughts.

  “You know we can’t attract trouble,” he says to Chris.

  “Shut the fuck up!” he snaps back.

  I frown. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means nothing,” Chris barks in my direction, not even looking at me.

  I snap my mouth shut, because I know if I dare open it the way I feel right now, I’m going to fucking explode on his arse.

  By the time we arrive back, Chris’s knee is bouncing, his whole body jerking with rage. He has his hand up b
y his mouth like he’s trying to stop himself from saying something. I note then that his knuckles are a little swollen and smeared with a bit of blood, but right now I’m still too angry to care.

  The moment we get to the marina, I fly out of the car, practically running towards the boat. I punch in the security code, and when the doors open, I march inside. I’m just about to head for the stairs when a hand clasps around my head. I yelp my surprise as he tugs me back, his hand sliding down to the back of my neck. He holds me in place but moves me forward so that I have no choice but to descend down the stairs.

  “You fucking asked for this, now you’re getting it. Are you happy now?!” he roars, sending me down more steps into the huge kitchen. Chris yanks the door open, pushing me through, then forcefully pushes me over the kitchen island, my face planted sideways as he holds me still.

  “This dress,” he growls, grabbing the top with his free hand. “This fucking dress is never to be worn again.”

  “Don’t you fucking dare!” I scream back, trying my hardest to get up, but it’s no use. Chris has a vice-like death grip on me.

  Violently, he tugs at my dress, the inevitable rip tearing through the room and echoing off the walls.

  “You fucking prick!” I shout, my body jerking to get free. Within seconds, the dress is completely discarded in shreds on the floor, and within another nanosecond so are my knickers.

  “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it, Bri? This is what you’ve been fucking asking for all night, dressed up like a fucking whore. Well, I’m going to make you my whore right now. How do you feel about that?”

  My mind is horrified by his cruel words, but my body betrays my mind, secretly humming to life, wetness soaking my core, begging to be fucked. This is what I’ve been craving since we got here, guilt riddling through me until I pushed and pushed that beast I knew would come out if I pushed hard enough.

  Now, the beast is finally here.

  The sound of a belt buckle coming undone followed by a zip prick my ears, and my body stops fighting, welcoming the punishment Chris will give me.

  Chris yanks my legs apart, and then I’m almost catapulted across the table as he enters me so forcefully, I see stars. Chris grunts, pressing my head down to the table, his cock hard and punishing inside my tight walls.

  “Fuck!” he bellows, slamming into me. My pulse quickens, my body igniting. This is the most degrading position he’s put me in, but my body welcomes it, and so does my mind. This is where I should be. This is where I should always be when it comes to Chris. Made to feel sick, debased, cheapened, and disturbed. The pain he inflicts with each thrust quickly channels into pleasure, my dark mind welcoming the blissful torture he’s unravelling in me. The ferociousness of his wrath makes my walls tighten around him, the inevitable orgasm about to detonate quicker than ever before.

  I close my eyes, moaning my pleasure, causing Chris to tighten his hold even more so on my head. Having the side of my face planted against the cool, stainless steel top has my mind spinning and my body thrumming. Chris grabs my hip, pulling it to meet each of his thrusts. I open my eyes, another moan escaping me, when movement in the corner of my eyes momentarily halts my orgasm from climbing.

  My eyes scan a small window that looks into the kitchen, finding Michael staring at Chris before his eyes move to land on mine. They widen, knowing he has been caught, but when I don’t say anything, he stays still, locked on the moment I’m choosing to share with him. I can detect all the emotions floating through his eyes. Shock, horror, indecision, with an unmissable tone of lust shining through. The scene before him must horrify him, but seeing such intensity, he probably can’t look away. I watch him as he watches me, his eyes dancing from Chris to me, taking in as much of the scene as he can. My body quivers, another moan escapes, and when Michael clasps his eyes back on mine again, my body quakes with an impending orgasm to end all orgasms.

  Chris too is close as he quickens his pace, his grunts punching through the air as the sound of skin slapping on skin echoes around the kitchen.

  I cry out as an orgasm rips through my body, momentarily blinding me of my surroundings. My body jerks, but Chris stills holds strong.

  “Fucking bitch, you’re going to make me come!”

  An all too powerful burst rips through Chris as he violently empties himself inside of my pussy, a huge roar leaving his lips. My eyes glance back to Michael, his face stoic as he stares back. After a moment, he turns and leaves, surely knowing that if he hadn’t, he’d get caught.

  I close my eyes, my body still quaking from my orgasm. Chris’s hand relinquishes its hold on my head, and then he’s pulling out of me, panting and tugging at his shorts. Cool air hits my skin, and I shiver at the loss of body contact. With my head still spinning, I gingerly pull myself up from the table and turn around at a still pissed off looking Chris. He bolts his belt up and grabs my tattered dress from the floor, flinging it at my chest.

  “You can’t fucking wear it now, can you?” he snaps, but despite his anger, he’s unable to look at me. I don’t say a word back, because I’ve pushed further than I should’ve tonight. Instead, I tug the dress to my chest and watch as he stalks out of the door, leaving me how I should be… completely and utterly naked and alone.

  I keep the dress clutched to my chest as I wobble unsteadily towards the door. My mind is still woozy from not only the alcohol but also my orgasm. I should feel depraved, but shit like that is exactly what I crave, leaving me breathless and panting for more instead of disgusted and ashamed like usual. The only element that puts a damper on my current mood is the fact that Chris will be stewing over this for the rest of the night.

  I have no idea if he secretly understands why I push him that far. Maybe—like me—he’s too ashamed to say what we both keep buried out loud.

  When I get to our room, there is no sign of Chris in sight. There’s a small lamp lighting up the part of the bed, but other than that, there’s no signs of life. I drop the dress on the bed then lift it up again to inspect it. In his anger, he’s torn the whole dress wide open.

  Throwing it in the corner, I head to the shower, staying under the spray for a few minutes before I wash. Once out and dry, I put on a tank top and a pair of pyjama shorts then go in search of Chris. At the top of the stairs by the kitchenette, I spot Michael clutching a glass of strong, amber liquid to his chest, the room dark, his thoughts pensive.

  “Who were you watching, Michael? Me, Chris, or both?”

  I’ve had an inkling there’s more to Michael than meets the eye. A tuition of sorts that I’ve never been able to figure out.

  Michael’s head snaps to mine, his initial shock at my question settling when I offer him a small smile.

  “Why do you do it to him, Bri?”

  I approach the countertop and lean forward. “I asked my question first.”

  He takes in a deep breath, whether in frustration or realisation, I’m not sure which. “Both,” he finally answers, averting his eyes. But then they quickly find their way back to me. “You didn’t say anything when you caught me. Why?”

  I slip up onto the barstool. “You want the honest truth?” He nods, his body leaning forward, invested. “I liked that you were watching us.”

  “But if Chris ever found out…”

  “He would kill us both,” I interrupt. “You more than me.” He swallows hard, his eyes downcast. “He would never entertain another in our relationship. Chris would never share.”

  He places his drink on the counter, his features awash with emotion. “I know that. Chris has eyes for you and only you. I think… I don’t fucking know. It’s just… when I look at the two of you together…”

  “You wish you were a part of it.”

  “Yes,” he replies on an exhale. “I want what you have. I want to feel the kind of intensity you both share. Shit, it’s hard to explain.”

  I place my hand over his, causing him to jump in surprise. “I understand totally, but the problem is, you will never un
derstand Chris and I.”

  Michael frowns, tilting his head. “What does that mean?”

  I chuckle lightly under my breath. “That, I cannot say.” I’ve already said too much.

  “Is that why you pushed him tonight? Because of whatever it is I won’t understand?”

  Closing my eyes, I let out a sigh. “Yes.” I glance up to him, deep in thought. “How did it make you feel, watching that?”

  “You want the honest truth?” he asks, repeating my own question back at me. I nod my head. “I thought watching the way he abused you like that would disturb me, and it would have if I had known you didn’t want it. But you did, and despite how disturbing it was, I couldn’t look away. I wanted in, but I knew all I could do was watch. I was just so surprised you let me.”

  I step off the barstool, getting ready to leave. “Letting you watch is one thing, but letting you take part is another.”

  “So are you saying that if Chris was all for it, you wouldn’t be?”

  His questions startles me a moment as I wasn’t expecting it. Would it be hot to have two guys in a bed? Shit, yes. Would I really go for it? No, I don’t think I would. But it’s only because it has everything to do with what Chris and I have, nothing to do with Michael. In fact, adding Michael would only make the whole relationship more tainted than it already is. It’s something that Michael would never, ever understand. And that, for me, is the whole truth.

  “No, I wouldn’t be.”

  Michael smirks. “Why do I get the impression you’re lying to me?”

  I chuckle and start to walk away. “That, my friend, is something I guess you’ll never truly know the answer to.”

  I walk out of the kitchenette and into the living area. There’s still no sign of Chris, but I can hazard a guess that he will be brooding up top somewhere. As I go in search, my mind is awash with what Michael revealed. I had no idea he had feelings for us both. But then again, I think it has more to do with the idea of us, rather than actually being with us. I could stew over it for hours, but my main focus, as always, is on Chris.