Sex Tape: Second Chance Romance

by Kylie Walker

  I cautiously approached the bed, feeling like there was a wounded cat on the mattress and not the woman I’d once loved more than life itself. When she didn’t throw anything at me or demand that I leave, I sat down next to her. I contemplated whether or not she wanted me to hold her for only a few seconds before she took the question out of it. She leaned into me, putting her head on my shoulder. I didn’t think about it any further after that. I just wrapped her up in my arms and held her. She cried until the front of my shirt was soaked and then she finally looked up at me with swollen eyes and a runny nose and said, “I’m a terrible friend.”

  “No. This is not your fault, Abby.”

  “I was stressing her out last night. Joze is a free-spirit. She rarely worries about anything. She was so worried about me…”

  “That’s what friends do for each other, just like you’re worried about her now. Please don’t blame yourself.” I was trying hard not to be a typical asshole but I couldn’t completely ignore the fact I was holding the object of my obsession for the past ten years or so against my chest, and she was naked. Shit. Talk about a terrible, awful, ugly person. I felt my cock twitch in my pants and I was glad I was sitting at an angle where she couldn’t see how disgusting I am. Damn I wanted her though. I’ve always wanted her. Even when I was so hurt and angry that I couldn’t see straight…I never stopped wanting her. The ache has been with me for a lifetime.

  “I need to go see her.”

  “Chase is with her and he said her parents just got there. Why don’t you get some more rest first and go see her later?”

  She suddenly looked down at herself like she’d only just remembered she was naked. She still had the comforter in her lap but those beautiful breasts that I’d imagined all of these years were staring me almost in the face. She pulled the cover back up and I saw her face color. Jesus, it had been a long time since I’d been with a woman who was actually shy about her body. The idea that my little Abby might just be a submissive at heart sent another surge of blood to my cock. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll wait. Can you call me a cab while I get dressed?”

  “Where are you going?”

  She looked at me like I was crazy. “Home.”

  “You’re already here. Why not just stay and get some rest. I’m worried about you being alone. We still don’t know for sure you weren’t drugged last night. You were really acting out of character considering the drinks you’d had were minimal.”

  “Will,” she grunted, shaking her head at me. It dawned on me she thought I expected sex. I wanted it, badly, but no way was I expecting it.

  “I promise I don’t have any intentions other than making sure you’re okay. I’ll just feel so much better if you’re here where I can keep an eye on you. I can make you some tea. Do you still like peppermint tea?”

  “Yes, and thank you for the offer to stay, Will…but I’m awake now. I’d just really like to get home and take a shower.”

  “You can shower here. There are clean towels and everything you’ll need right in that bathroom over there. I’ll go make your tea.” I said it with a soft tone. I was thrilled to see it worked, at least she seemed to calm down some. She nodded.

  “Okay, leave first before I get up though.”

  I smiled, trying to be as non-threatening as possible, and stood up. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “I’ve been showering on my own for a long time now. I’m pretty sure I can cope.”

  I laughed, enjoying her sarcasm—she hadn’t been caustic as a teenager. That was a new development and she was funny with it. “That wasn’t what I meant,” I let my eyes drop down to where I knew her naked form lay underneath the comforter, then shifted my glance back up to her face. “But since you brought it up, I’d be happy to help there as well.”

  “Go!” Her face was bright red. I left the room smiling. Maybe there was hope for us after all.

  ********

  I occupied myself making tea and some toast for her while she was showering. I had to do some serious mental image searches to lose the erection. I thought about the time I saw Geo’s naked ass from behind when I walked in on him and his date. That almost worked until I remembered how she had sat up and smiled at me over his shoulder. She was pretty hot…but not as hot as Abby. My mind went back to Abby and my cock got hard again. As I poured the hot water over the tea bag and buttered the toast and I pictured Mrs. Evans, my sixth grade teacher, naked. Mrs. Evans might well be the most unattractive woman I’d ever laid eyes on. That worked, for the time being. When I put everything on a tray and turned to go take it to her, she walked into the kitchen.

  She was wearing the big fuzzy robe my housekeeper left in the bathroom for the “guests” I never have. It covered all of her but it was sexy enough just knowing she was naked underneath it. Her blonde hair was wet and hanging in waves across her shoulders and her pretty face was scrubbed free of make-up. It made her look about sixteen, just about the age she was when I fell in love with her. “Hey, feel better?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, a lot.”

  “Have a seat then. Your tea’s ready. I made you some toast too. It might help to get something in your stomach.” She sat down and as I poured her tea, I saw that she was gazing out the window. “This window is my favorite view. You should see it at night, it takes your breath away.”

  “How many rooms does this place have?” she asked, glancing around the Brownstone.

  I was actually slightly embarrassed to tell her. I was comfortable with my wealth, and I’d always thought I’d want to lord it over Abby if I’d ever come into contact with her. Yet here I was feeling shy!

  I’d bought the house on a whim more because it was a historical treasure in the center of Manhattan than anything else. But it was an impressive place, even to someone like Abby with her past and family history. “Twelve,” I finally said.

  She made an “O” with her mouth. “You live here alone?”

  “Yeah. I have a cook who comes in once a week and puts together my meals and freezes them, a housekeeper that comes in two days a week and a driver. There are four rooms here that used to be used as staff rooms by the former tenants, but I kind of prefer my privacy.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down across from her. “When you finish I’ll show you the wrap-around terrace. It’s my favorite.”

  She just nodded and I wondered if that had sounded like I was bragging. “Where do you live?”

  “I live on 57th Street in the Helena.” I wasn’t surprised she lived in a nice place. I knew that even if she hadn’t been able to afford one, her father would have insisted on getting a decent apartment for her. The thought of Dr. Wilson was the final deflator that my cock needed. “It’s strange seeing you in a place like this.” Her tone was absentminded as she gawked around my kitchen.

  “Why is that?” I hadn’t meant for the defensive tone to slip into my voice as I asked, but it was there. I made it even worse when I blurted, “Because you adopted your father’s ideas about me, that I’d amount to nothing because I was raised poor by a single mother?”

  I saw her set her jaw and I knew I’d blown the civility that had settled between us. To her credit, she didn’t take the bait and argue with me. Instead she pushed back her chair and stood up. “I’m going to get dressed. I need to get home.”

  “Abby…I’m sorry.”

  She spun around then and said, “For what, Will? What are you sorry for, exactly? Are you sorry that even though I was doing my best to be civil today that you blew it because you’re an asshole? Or are you sorry that you walked out of my life without even saying good-bye? Oh…maybe it’s that you’re sorry for taking my father’s money to stay away from me and now you’re living large after his initial investment in a sixty-five million dollar house. I bet you thank your lucky fucking stars every day that you made the right choice there.” I could see the rage on her face and the disgust for me in her eyes. But I also saw the hurt, and the heartache.

  “I’m
the one who didn’t fight for us? You obviously know about the money, what did you do when you found out? Did you tell your father to stay out of your life? Did you come after me? I always thought you were different, Abby. I thought money wasn’t as important to you as feelings…”

  “Ha! Look who’s talking. You bailed at the smell of money.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What? Will, are you going to deny it? I heard my parents arguing about it. I heard my mom telling my dad that it was wrong for any man to offer a kid fifty grand to leave his daughter alone. I was so angry with him…at first. But it didn’t take me long to figure out he was right. It wasn’t me you wanted, it was all of the things we had.”

  “Wow! You really fucking believe that?”

  “How could I not?” She turned around in a circle and the robe fell open slightly. I could just see a hint of the swell of her breasts but it was enough for me to get turned on again. Fuck! In the middle of a fight. What a fucking pervert I’ve become.

  “Because it’s not true. I didn’t care about your fucking fancy house or that fancy little car your daddy bought you for your sixteenth birthday…”

  “Oh, sure you didn’t. I suppose that’s why every time we went anywhere you “offered” to drive. You knew the only way you’d ever get behind the wheel of a car like that was if you were fucking the owner.”

  That was it. She’d snapped the last shred of patience I was harboring. “You’re a snobby little bitch. I guess I was fortunate when your dad cut me from your life.”

  For a second, she gawked at me. In fact, she looked on the brink of a stroke. Her mouth was agape, her breathing was steady but fast. It seemed to take her a few minutes just to splutter, “You were the fortunate one? I'm the lucky one, you gold digging son of a bitch.” She shook her head and slammed her hands up in front of her. “No, no.” She mumbled the words to herself. “I can't do this. I-I can't.” She stumbled backwards. “Where are my clothes? I need to get the fuck out of here.”

  “We need to talk, Abby. We need to make this better. You're working on my case. This isn't going away.”

  “I'll ask Chase to reassign me.”

  “You already know all the details.” I gritted my jaw at what she had to know about my private life. She was the last person on this fucking Earth I'd have wanted to know about this whole shitty situation. The old Abby, I could have trusted with the truth. But now, with her rage at me still so palpable...I don't know what she's capable of.

  “Someone else can sign the NDA agreement and read about your perversions.” She sneered at me, and her derision had my palms itching. Christ, the woman needed a spanking more than she needed her next breath.

  It occurred to me if anyone was going to dole out a punishment for that smart mouth, it would be me. Which made no sense. I shouldn't still be attracted to her. I'd hated her for far longer than I'd loved her. That hatred had spurred me into making this life for myself. But the truth of it was, the life I led now wasn't what I'd dreamed about when Abby and I had laid together, staring up at the Yankee's poster I'd busted my balls to buy her.

  Sure, I could buy shit now without breaking a sweat. I lived in this great house, could go on a permanent vacation if I wanted. But all those years ago, I'd wanted nothing more than to have this woman at my side.

  Maybe seeing her again brought that idiot kid back to life, because he stirred inside me. All the same wants and longings. They were revived and with them, came pain.

  After having my own private needs used against me by a blackmailing, money-grabbing whore, Abby's wholesomeness was a breath of fresh air. The breath of fresh air that had gotten me through so many days when I was a kid, struggling to help my mom pay her bills, flagging at school from exhaustion at holding two after-school jobs and still trying to keep my GPA high enough to get me into an Ivy League college—because that was the only place Abby was going, to the top. And I’d wanted to be by her side, not lagging behind like a deadweight.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” she snarled, breaking into my thoughts. “Get me my clothes.”

  Rather than snap back, I point at a room off the kitchen. “They're in the dryer. I didn't think you'd like getting back into a dress that was covered in vomit.”

  She swallowed. “Joze vomited?”

  “Yeah. It was a bad seizure. One of the worst according to Chase.”

  Abby raised a shaky hand. “I need to be there. She needs to know I'm with her.”

  Back in the day, her loyalty had always shook me to the core. In essence, that hadn't changed, so why the fuck hadn't she had faith in me? Why hadn't she stayed loyal to me, believed in me, and known I wouldn't do anything to damage what we'd had together?

  She wasn’t the only one hurting. I'd hidden that pain behind hatred for too long, but seeing her now, seeing the woman she'd become, it raked it all up and unsettled the dust.

  I watched as she stalked out of the kitchen and headed to the utility room. She returned in her dress and had her purse clutched in her hand.

  “I see you found your bag. You can check it for something missing if you want,” I told her cuttingly. “Make sure I didn't steal anything. You know you can't trust men like me.”

  A gulp had her throat working. “I never could trust you. I just realized that too late.” She shook her head and the sadness on her face tore at me. I watched as she opened her purse and rummaged through it. I thought she was taking me at my word but instead, she pulled out a small pouch which housed a thin pair of flats. She shoved them on her feet and said, “Thanks for nothing, Will. Thanks for the broken heart and the years of pain and distrust. Thanks for ruining my life.”

  I reared back at her words. Stunned that she'd said so much when I'd thought she'd keep her cards close to her chest.

  I could have followed her, could have raged at her and forced her to understand, but she needed to be with her friend. Anything I did to delay that would just have been cruel. Instead, I called out, “She's in Mercy General over on eighth and Anderson.” The slamming of the door was the only response my overture earned me.

  But what else did I expect?

  The truth of it was, I could have drawn a line underneath this situation here and now. One call to Chase and he'd have another attorney working on my case, and I never had to see or think about Abby again.

  Maybe that would have been wise. Maybe she and I had gone our separate ways all those years ago because that was the hand fate had meant to deal us. But dammit, I couldn't believe that. I couldn't believe that something so innocent, so pure could be wrong.

  Raking a hand through my hair, I spun away from the door Abby had just departed, and clung onto the counter. My knuckles ached with the strain but I ignored it, if anything, I processed it. Using that pain to stop myself from rushing after her.

  This wasn't the last time I'd be seeing her. We had unfinished business and letting another nine years pass with this wound still festering away wasn't on my itinerary.

  I'd give her some space now, let her help her friend get back on her feet, but after that, the kid gloves were off.

  Chapter 7

  ABBY

  Sobs tore at my throat, begging for release. God, I needed to cry. I needed to yell out this pain. But this was the city. If I'd started screaming in the middle of the street, the cops would undoubtedly have been called and I'd probably find myself in a psych ward of some sort for forty-eight hours.

  I wasn't insane. I was just a little crazy at having to think about the worst period of my life. Hell, screw that. I wasn't simply thinking about it, I was facing it. I was facing him. The man who had betrayed me. Who had destroyed my faith in men. Who had taught me that trusting a guy was as deadly as going to bed with a Black Widow.

  I'd made my mistakes. Plenty of them. But he was the worst one. The crappiest thing was my parents had witnessed it. They'd seen me make the mistake and then have to live with the aftermath. That had just tied a pretty pink bo
w on my humiliation.

  I was close to my mom, sort of, but my dad and I had always had a love-hate relationship. It had edged more towards the hate after his attempts to sour what I had with Will, and after he'd paid him off—whether it was for my benefit or not—things certainly hadn't improved.

  I closed my eyes a second, wishing like hell life hadn't turned out this way, that I hadn't just spent the night in Will's bed and had to face him this morning. But when I opened them again, nothing had changed. Everything had stayed the same.

  I was still the girl who'd been dumped for fifty grand, and the man in the house behind me was still the guy who'd sold out to get a head start.

  As resentment filled me, I lifted my hand and hailed a cab. This part of the city had high price tags and a taxi cruised to a halt beside me in less than twenty seconds. I told the driver the hospital name Will had just given me, and sat back, waiting to be delivered there.

  I lived in a high-end neighborhood. Chase paid me very well and I had a trust fund allowance that helped fund my nice apartment if I ever lost my job, but it was nothing in comparison to this place.

  In a weird way, I was almost proud of Will for reaching the heights he'd always dreamed of. I was proud of the guy I'd known, the one who I thought had loved me and had wanted the world for us both.

  When those thoughts hit me, it made the streets blur as emotion overloaded me, making me want to cry. But I couldn't. I had to keep it together. When I saw Joze, she had to see that I was doing okay. She couldn't know that inside, I was a mess. We had to focus on getting her better again.

  I knew how she hated the seizures. They terrified her, and the consequences of a Grand Mal weren't pleasant. I wasn't certain what the aftermath would be of this particular event but I knew I'd be at her side come what may.

  Thoughts of my friend helped keep other memories from intruding and I was a bag of nerves when I paid the fare, headed to reception and was guided to Joze's ward. I thanked God we were each other's next of kin or they probably wouldn't have told me where to go.