by Sinden West
I moved to pull my hand away, but she held it firm. “He’s fond of you. You know that, don’t you? So let’s be good lovers here and give him the best of both worlds.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from hers. I knew what she meant. I had Pam’s explanation for that. I also had Pamela’s desperation twisting in me.
My head nodded at her, as she gave a satisfied smile.
That was how we got here.
Back in Rick’s apartment, after a taxi ride that I didn’t even fully remember, suddenly I was naked. My black dress discarded, panties somewhere; I didn’t know where. I lay on the bed, my head in Rick’s lap. He still wore his jeans, and before me, in between my legs, kneeled Bella.
Her dress lay in a shimmering pool on the floor. She wore a white corset type garment that gave her that fabulous hourglass figure. Her breasts were plump over the top, the g-string she wore revealed perfect white thighs with not a hint of cellulite, imperfection, or humanity to be seen.
Her eyes raked over me, before reaching a hand to prod at and squeeze one breast. “They’re like apples.” She squeezed the other, and I sucked in a breath. “So round and pert. So tiny.” She lifted her gaze to look me in the eye. ”Do you mind if I take a bite?”
“Bella,” Rick said as he stroked my hair. “Be nice.”
She flashed her perfectly painted mouth at him. “I’m going to be very nice to your little friend. You’ll see.” She dragged a finger down the valley between my breasts, raking it slowly over my navel and then, let it sit nicely in between my legs. The touch was so light that I barely knew it was there, but every time I shifted it became apparent, almost exquisitely so. I bit my lip, trying not to move. But she could read me well.
“It’s all right, Gretel,” Bella cooed. “I’m just going to leave my finger right here, and if you move against it. It’s your choice. Let’s find out just how wanton and dirty you can be.”
“Rick…” I murmured, heart pumping.
“It’s alright, baby,” he pressed his lips to my forehead, “Just go with it. Please? For me?”
I still didn’t move, and it took all my might.
“Your good little girl might make us stay here all night,” Bella said, softly, looking at Rick. She left her eyes there, and he must have been staring right back at her. Then his hands came down to cup my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers just how he knew that I liked it. I had to move then.
My hips arched up, pressing myself into her touch, and although I felt shame, I was overwhelmed by that amazing feeling. She didn’t move at all; she just kept that single finger there, and I was me who had to move and thrash around to get the friction, the feeling that I so desired. She smirked down at me, I had to close my eyes, forget about her, and just move to get as much satisfaction as possible. Rick squeezed my breasts, and I wished that he would kiss me but he didn’t.
“That’s it, baby. You move that little ass for me. Good girl,” he whispered in my ear. It was his voice that I came to, my body moving of its own accord and jerking as I became a hot, sweaty mess with no other thought than my own release.
So I came against the manicured finger of this woman whom my boyfriend was in love with. I lay there, panting and recovering. As soon as I could move to sit up, Rick and Bella were together. They were kissing and groping. I just sat there and watched.
He turned her so she was on her hands and knees. It was, for the first time, him that was in control. He grabbed her hair, yanked it so her head was forced up. He thrust into her with an urgency that he had never had with me.
“Fuck, Bella,” he panted.
“God, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” she moaned, pushing back against him as torn panties half hung off her. I watched with wide eyes at the scene before me. I didn’t feel drunk anymore. I felt like I was watching something I shouldn’t, yet I couldn’t move.
They seemed to both cum at the same time; their cries intermingling. And afterward they curled up together, staring into each other’s eyes.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you,” he told her, breathless after his exertions.
No one loved me.
I managed to move. I fetched my crumpled dress from the floor, clutched my purse, my shoes, and walked out the front door, naked as anything. I closed the door quietly behind me, not wanting to disturb them for god only knew what reason.
I started to breath heavily as I desperately tried to turn my dress so it was the right way before shoving it over my head, struggling to get my arms through the arm holes, and pulling it down so my bare bottom was covered.
I felt like shit, but adrenalin kept me going, it made me walk down the stairs even as my head went crazy with the images of what had just happened. It was daylight outside now. I wasn’t the only bewildered, drunk person about. But everyone else seemed to have had a far better night than I.
Chapter Eighteen
I couldn’t go home in case the things that had happened poured out of my mouth. I couldn’t say them out loud; that would be admitting to it. I especially couldn’t stand the inevitable pity that would be on Emma’s face. I walked about, finally ending up at the café that was opposite Oliver’s apartment building.
I huddled in a booth, hoping to hide, and slowly sipped the latte in front of me. As long as I could make it last meant I could stay here, hidden. A few people gave me odd looks. And why shouldn’t they? My hair was a mess, my dress too short for daytime, and I still had my own juices running down my legs.
Disgusting.
“Greta?” Oliver was sliding in next to me, trapping me. But I didn’t feel alarm or horror, just resignation. “What are you doing here?”
I didn’t answer him, just wrapping my hands around my cup to get the last of the warmth.
“Are you okay? You look…”
A mess, dirty, desperate, that list could go on.
“Sad,” he finished.
I looked at him then. “I should be sad. The disgusting things that I’ve done.” My voice wavered.
He gave me a worrying look before reaching out and taking one of my hands. “Greta, there’s nothing you could do that’s disgusting, or unforgivable if that’s what’s worrying you.”
I started to cry. Fat silent tears started to roll down my face, and he pulled me into his arms so my face was hidden in his chest. I shook against him as I cried, and he stroked my hair.
“Come on. Let’s get you a shower, some food maybe.”
I let him lead me out, the sunlight hurt my eyes, and I didn’t resist as we entered his building. I felt too weak, too pathetic; everything was wrong.
I watched him as he rolled up his sleeves and turned the shower on for me. “I’ll leave you to it,” he told me. I didn’t answer, just watching him until the bathroom door closed behind him. Then I stripped off my dress and stepped under the spray. It was hot, and my skin turned pink, but I felt slightly more cleansed. I stood under it for a long time until I began to feel faint.
Then I shut the water off and stood in the remaining steam as the water trickled off me. Something moved to my side, Oliver, and I didn’t even flinch.
“I got you a towel, and some clothes an ex-girlfriend left behind.” He held up a colored bundle before placing them on the vanity and leaving. I took a long time drying myself, dragging the towel over every inch of skin. The clothes Oliver had left were a pink t-shirt and black yoga pants. They fit okay, but I imagined them belonging to some toned bombshell with silicon breasts. Out of habit I lifted my hand to wipe across the steamed up mirror to see my face, but then I stopped before I touched the wet surface. I didn’t really want to see what I looked like. I snatched up a comb from the vanity and pulled it through my wet, bedraggled hair in a halfhearted effort.
Finally, I got up the energy to leave the bathroom. Oliver had the table laid with bagels, smoked salmon and cream cheese.
“I made you tea. You still like to drink tea, right?” he asked, smiling warmly. I didn’t know that he had
ever known that about me. I nodded, before taking a seat in front of where the steaming hot cup of tea sat. He sat as well.
“Eat.” He placed the split bagel on my plate, and I suddenly felt hungry. We ate in silence, and it wasn’t until I swallowed the last bite did I ask him a question.
“Where’s Nathan?”
He placed his knife down on his plate and turned to me. “Rehab.”
“Oh.” That was a relief.
“He’s been off the rails for years. I cut him off financially, and last time he came to me I made it a condition that I’d bail him out if he went to a facility.” He gave me a small smile. “Whatever you think of me, Greta, I love my son very much. You need to know that.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Good, or so I hear from his counselors. They’re strict on visitors and phone use. The only time I’ve been allowed to visit was for a therapy session.” He gave a small laugh devoid of humor. “I got to sit there for an hour while he told me what a bad father I was, how I had ruined his life, how he didn’t trust me…it was sobering to say the least.”
“That must have been horrible,” I said softly.
“The truth normally is I find.”
“Anyway,” I pushed my cup away from me. “I should get going.”
“There’s no need to rush Greta. I was hoping that you’d tell me why you were upset.” He stood as well.
I shook my head. “It’s nothing. Just boyfriend stuff.” Or ex-boyfriend stuff, or was he ever my boyfriend? It hurt too much to think about it.
He looked at me sadly. “Are you sure? Maybe I could help?”
“I don’t think so.”
He gave me a ride home. Before I had a chance to open the car door, he stopped me. He kissed me gently on the cheek. “I care about your welfare, Greta. I want you to know that you can always come to me if you need help.”
I looked away. “Okay. Thanks.” Then I exited the car as swiftly as possible.
Emma and Damien were, predictably, cuddling on the couch when I entered the apartment.
“There you are! Rick rang to see if you were home. I was getting worried.” Emma gave a relieved smile.
“I just ran into a friend, borrowed some clothes.” I told her as I headed to my room.
“What friend?” she asked. She knew damn well that I didn’t really have any other friends except for her.
“Just a girl from one of my classes,” I called to her from over my shoulder before I closed the door.
And then I got into bed, happy to stay there forever.
Chapter Nineteen
There were texts from Rick. Nine exactly. And they all said nothing, yet everything at the same time.
“Are you okay?” was the theme that ran through them all. There was really nothing else; no apology, no regret. That shouldn’t have surprised me; after all I knew that Rick was an asshole through and through. Yet I still held on to the hope that I was special to him. It was crushing to know that I wasn’t.
I didn’t return any of his texts, and I secretly had a hope that he would turn up on my doorstep. But he didn’t, and after a few days, all hope was gone. I cried in secret with my face buried in a pillow. Emma asked questions that I deflected; while Damien stayed silent but kept shooting knowing looks at me. The apartment was suffocating with unsaid things, which was why when David invited me over to his apartment that Saturday night for dinner, I jumped at the chance.
His apartment was the ultimate bachelor pad. It was done in manly black, with leather and glass the predominant textures. He tried to cook on his new, ultramodern state of the art oven, but he didn’t really know how to use it properly and whatever our dinner was supposed to be, it was burnt. We went out for pizza instead.
David, being David, didn’t get his pizza from one of the chains that delivered. We had to go all the way to a gourmet pizza restaurant to pick it up. The waiter greeted him by name before going out to the kitchen to get it for us. While we waited, I looked around, and then froze.
Bella had spied me from where she sat opposite Rick at a table. A slow, superior smile crept across her face. Rick turned to see who she was looking at. He seemed to freeze as well, and then he was getting to his feet and coming toward us.
His eyes flicked to David quickly as he stood before me, before coming to rest on me.
“I’ve been worried about you,” he said quietly. And he did look worried in a way that I’d never seen before. But the pizza came then. It was passed to David, and he was turning to leave.
“You need to leave me alone,” I told Rick simply before following David.
I heard the door bang behind me as David opened the car door for me. I didn’t think that Rick even made it outside. I blinked back tears in the dark of the car as David talked about something. Back at his apartment, I gulped down the wine and pretended to listen to him.
Finally, he said, “I know you’re quiet, but this is ridiculous. Normally I love the sound of my own voice but even I’m getting bored.”
I gave him a small grin. “Sorry.”
He tilted his head and smiled at me. “Want to talk about whatever it is?”
I shook my head. “Nope.” And I took another sip of my wine, then another. I needed that feeling that it gave me. I needed to block out all things Rick-related, all things that were a reminder of rejection.
David had started to talk again. I wasn’t listening, but I was watching him. He was so good looking, and I liked the way his mouth twisted into a smirk when he described some of the idiots he had to deal with, and the way his eyes twinkled whenever he told the punchline. The wine was working, and everything felt softer, all emotions duller, and I wanted to kiss David.
It was easy, and with very little thought, I leaned over to him and pressed my lips against his. Everything stopped; his voice, his movements, and he didn’t kiss me back. With that sick realization, I leaned away from him.
He was just staring at me, and everything was feeling wrong. Then he cleared his throat.
“Greta…I think you should leave,” he said. His tone was gentle. I had to give him that.
I looked away, getting to my feet. I managed to avoid eye contact as I gathered my bag and coat before striding toward the door. I felt the heat on my face as I got into the lift, and I started to swear in my head.
You stupid bitch, you stupid, stupid bitch!
I felt weak with shame but somehow my legs seemed to support me as I walked out into the night. I ended up at a bus stop just as the next bus came along. I sat and stared out the window as the city passed by me. But I didn’t get off at home. I couldn’t go back there and deal with Emma and Damien’s happy, fluffy relationship. I couldn’t pretend to be happy any longer.
So I got off at the stop nearest to Oliver’s apartment. The wine still flowed through me and gave me an excuse not to think about my actions. He looked shocked when he answered the door, then his face relaxed into a welcoming smile.
“Greta. Come in.” He moved aside so I could enter. I sat on the couch, not even sure why I was there. I felt his eyes on me.
“Would you like me to make you a cup of tea or—“
“Wine. Have you got wine?”
He nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
He reappeared with a bottle of red and two glasses. When one was passed to me, I instantly put it to my lips and gulped.
“Hey, slow down,” he laughed. “That’s good wine. Appreciate it.”
“I just want to get drunk.” And continued guzzling, even thought it was difficult because it tasted like vinegar. He sat beside me, brushing a stray strand of hair from my forehead.
“Greta…talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”
But I just shook my head, reaching for the bottle to refill my glass. “I don’t need help. I’m just so fucking stupid sometimes.”
“Hey,” he soothed. “Of course you’re not. Don’t talk like that.”
I turned to him as I swallowed down a gulp. “
Don’t lie. You think so too. You laughed at the things she said.”
He looked at me sadly. “Then that makes me the stupid one, Greta, not you. My behavior in the past has been appalling. I know it. But it’s no reflection on you. You’re bright, you’re beautiful, you’re sweet—“
“You’re lying.” My glass went down on the table, spilling drops of red onto the wood grain. “But I don’t care.” I reached for him. “I just want you to hold me. I just want you to fuck me. I want you to act like I’m special and important and worth something. Can you do that for me?” My voice was shaky.
He frowned. “Greta, why are you acting like this?”
“If you won’t, I’ll find someone who will.” I tried to get to my feet, but he reached out and gripped my wrists.
“You’re not going anywhere. Not like this. Why don’t I—“
I kissed his open mouth with aggression, and he kissed me back.
Fuck you, David, Fuck you, Rick.
Chapter Twenty
Naked, with sheets tangled around me, I watched Oliver sleep. How could someone so awful make me feel so good? It was so odd how that physical contact somehow had settled me, had calmed the turmoil.
My phone rang, Emma’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hi.”
“Where the hell are you? David rang, he’s worried about you. I thought that you were with him. Damien’s calling Rick.” She sounded pissed. “It’s okay. She answered her phone!” I heard her yell to him in the background. “We were about to get a fucking search party together for you.”
“God, Emma. Calm down. It’s no big deal.”
“Actually, Greta, it is a big deal when you go missing and David said you were upset,” she snapped out.
I gave an impatient sigh. “You’re not my mother, Emma. You don’t need to fuss.”
“You’re right; I’m not your mother. I actually give a fuck about you!”
I ended the call and switched my phone off.
“Who was that?” Oliver murmured from beside me.