Backseat With The Billionaire
Page 3
I slowly slide my hand out of her, sending her shivering like a leaf in the wind, collapsing into my arms. I stroke her hair as she comes down from her high, the sporadic aftershocks shuddering through her.
Minutes later, she’s still panting from the effort, from the overpowering orgasm and I let her recover. I really do owe it to her.
Finally she speaks and the first words out of her mouth are: “What the hell was that?”
“Squirting.”
“I thought that was just some fake thing in porn.” She doesn’t look at me for awhile, her breath slowing. When she finally looks up at me, I can see she’s crying even through the shower raining down from above. Suddenly, she’s back to that frail little girl that I took advantage of, the substitute instrument I used while I waited for her.
“Don’t you love me? Don’t we have fun?” Her eyes wide, pleading for something that she couldn’t have.
“It has nothing to do with that,” I hug her tight, pulling her face into my chest. “I never had any love to give you in the first place.”
“You’re so cruel, making me fall for you like that.” She hardheartedly slams her fist against my chest. That’s twice I heard that today.
“Chloe. You know you’re the smartest, sexiest girl in this school. A chemical engineering major with double-D tits. And you can ride men like a professional cowgirl. You won’t have any trouble finding someone else.” She’s a good girl, she just couldn’t be my girl.
“But I don’t want anyone else. I want you.” Well, we can’t all have what we want, can we? But I don’t say it to her. That would be cruel.
“Every single guy in college will be lining up around the campus just for a chance to woo you.”
“Stop it.” She punches me playfully. “You’re breaking up with me. Not trying to charm my pants off.”
“I swear.” I smack her ass lightly. “See? Your pants are already off so there’s no need for any charm.”
She sighs. “And the last day we’re together, you whip out your best technique and blow my mind. You really are cruel.”
“Think of it as a going away present.” I smile, glad the storm’s finally blown over. And I don’t mean her. I’m talking about that primal thing inside me that sometimes gets loose, especially when someone talks about my love.
“I’m going to miss you, you know?” She stands on her tippy toes, asking for a kiss, and I oblige.
“I’ll miss you, too.” I will. Really.
She pouts. “So who’s this woman who took my Bobby’s heart?”
I want to tell her, the most amazing woman in the world, a woman you don’t even hold a light to. But then that wouldn’t just be cruel, it would be ruthless.
Not that I didn’t have that in me.
***
I hate The Black Ness.
First, the name sucks. It’s supposed to be a pun on Loch Ness, who would’ve guessed?
Second, there’s a giant painting of the Loch Ness monster inside that stares hungrily down at you while you’re trying to drink.
And third, it’s was in the middle of campus.
The only good thing about it is the coffee: Only black Americano or Espresso. No cappuccinos, no lattes, nothing with frilly milk or foam or syrup. Suits my tastes perfectly and keeps the ladies away.
But it’s still in the middle of campus, and that means I have to see people. And that means people see me.
“Look! It’s Bobby!”
“Oh my god, he looks so hot!”
“Does he have class?”
“I heard he doesn’t need to go to class.”
“I heard his professors go to him for help.”
“That hoodie looks so sexy.”
“Are those designer sweatpants?”
I’m wearing a cheap Nike outfit, hoping not to attract any attention. But the attention still comes.
They don’t even bother to whisper. Like I’m an art exhibit and they can all stand there and critique me. Even though they’re mostly compliments, they get annoying after a while.
Especially the ridiculous ones.
“He has a foot long dong.”
“I think I can see it through his pants.”
“I heard he gets a facial but for his cock.”
I shake my head. College kids, where do they get these ideas?
I see the coffee shop in the distance and I feel relief when a sharp, nasal voice cuts through the murmurs.
“Bobby! What’s going on?” A blonde in a cheerleader outfit bounces through the crowd that seems to grow around me wherever I go.
It’s Jade. She’s where they get these ideas.
Without pause, she continues, “Where you going? I’ll go with you!”
“What do you want, Jade?” I’m in no mood to deal with her shit.
“Why haven’t you answered any of my texts? We haven’t talked in forever!”
“Sorry, I’ve been busy.”
“Making that money, huh? I heard you just sold a new app. How much did you get?” Can she be any more of a slutty gold digger?
“Not much. A few bucks.”
“You liar! I heard you made millions!”
“You can’t trust rumors, Jade.”
“Well, Layla texted me that Mea got drunk and told Amy at a party that after she fucked Alex, she read his alerts on his phone and both of you are getting five million each!” she claims confidently.
Not that I would ever have believed her, but Alex is gay. She would make a great journalist for TMZ.
“Sorry, your sources seem to be faulty.” Finally, I’m a hundred feet from my destination. Thank god. “Sorry, Jade. I have to go. You know business at the Ness.”
“Alex!” She whines before entwining her arm around mine, squeezing it between her tits. She pulls the neck of her shirt out, giving me a direct view of her cleavage all wrapped up in a blue lace bra. “You have to call me, ok? I miss your Corvette. The last time you took me for a ride, I felt so hot!”
She takes my hand and jams it between her legs, pressing it against her pussy.
Isn’t this sexual harassment or something?
***
“Jade looked real friendly, huh?” Alex grins wickedly, knowing how much I hate the attention.
“The drawbacks of being a celebrity. Girls you fucked once never seem to get over you.” I slide into the seat across for him and he pushes fresh coffee across the table.
“Or it could just be that massive cock of yours.”
“I think you’ve been staring at my cock too much.”
“I have a mold of it back in my room. How else do you think I make money? Dildo copies of your cock.”
“Don’t act like you wouldn’t use it if it actually existed.” I tease him, smiling over the cup of steaming black.
“Every night.” He winks.
“And morning.” I laugh before sipping the hot brew. Thank god for Alex. Churning out apps with anyone else would’ve been torture for me.
“Anyways, while we’re missing out on that sweet dildo money, we have a real business to run.” I leave most of the business side things to Alex.
It’s a fucking pain to deal with any of those greasy money men. They’re always so fake. Just like the girls around here who latch on to me like leeches.
All they want is money.
“They faxed over the papers for the deal and I looked them over. Everything looks in order. Do you want to read them?”
“Nah, I trust you. Just tell me where to sign.”
“Geez, Bobby. What’re you gonna do the day I’m gone?”
“Why would you leave? You like staring at my dick too much.” I take the papers from him and start signing lines. “How’s the lost dog app going?”
“I’ve been shopping it around and there’s been quite a few impressive offers. I thought we were only going to make a couple million but it seems they want to use the location based system for advertising.”
“Hey, I want to make sure it goes to a go
od company. That one’s personal. I don’t want to give it to some scrapyard company that just wants to take it apart for the GPS code.”
“Of course, Bobby. I know how important it is to you. I’m so happy that everything’s coming to a point.” His eyes turn round like he’s adoring a baby.
He’s in love with my love story and can’t get enough of the drama. He always says he’s going to write a book about it but I doubt it would make for an entertaining read. An obsessive young billionaire biding his time to take the MILF next door.
“And make sure you play the offers against each other, multiple interests always means we can bring the price up.” I finish signing off on the last of the papers.
“I know, I know. Who do you think takes care of the real business around here?”
CHAPTER 4
LISA
I thought I’d feel better after I kicked his ass to the curb. I thought if I made him feel even half as bad as I do, I would somehow feel content, satisfied.
But I don’t. Not one fucking bit.
The anger might’ve dissipated but all that left is emptiness and questions. What now? What do you do when every second of your life was put into this one thing and that one thing just disappears?
What do I do with myself?
KNOCK KNOCK.
As if on cue, the door opens and Patty stands there holding a plate of brownies. Just what I need: a girlfriend and sweets.
The Carters really are the best.
“Hey, guurrlll. Whatcha doing?” Patty approaches me cautiously, eying me like I’m a wounded dog and she’s not sure if I’ll bite. After all this, I can’t guarantee I won’t.
“Nothing. Just trying to figure where it all went wrong.”
Patty puts the plate next to the pictures before gathering them up. She can’t help but flip through them before throwing them into the trash. “This is where you went wrong. Missionary is the death of all marriages.”
I wish she would burn them, but I immediately think of the fire hazard. God, why am I such a boring housewife? Would doggy-style really have saved my marriage?
“Why do you still have those? Who the hell sent them to you anyways? You must have a secret admirer.”
“Secret admirer? If I find out who the hell did this, they’re dead. He broke up my family. I wish I never found out about this.”
SLAP. I stare up at Patty in amazement. Did she just slap me? It wasn’t hard or painful, just surprising.
“Don’t you ever say that! What would you tell Ava when she’s all grown up? How could you call yourself a woman?” And of course, she’s right. I’m such a doormat.
“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to do that.” She slides in next to me on the couch, enveloping me in her arms and I snuggle in to her. “What happened to that strong woman who beat Donald up just hours ago?”
“She started to regret her decision. What if I could’ve forgiven him? And worked through it together?”
“You know that would never have worked. Donald’ll never change. But you can! You should be happy! You’re finally free of Donald Dick.”
“But that dick has been a part of my life for fifteen years.” I reach for a brownie and take a bite, hoping food will bring me some comfort. It tastes a little strange but Patty’s always on some organic, gluten-free thing or other.
“And now it’s time for you to find a new dick. Maybe a nice young, big, meaty dick. One that’ll run you raw and ragged.” She moans, enthralled by her own fantasy.
“I’m 38.”
“I wish I was 38.”
“It’s basically 40. No one wants me. Especially someone young.”
“Why not? Someone wanted Donald.” Her eyes widen, in realization of what she said. “Fuck. Sorry. Too soon?”
“Wayyy too soon.” But I smile at her. She’s just trying to help and sometimes we all just needed a slap in the face. “I’m fine. Really. Either way, it’s different for men. Women want an older man. Men age way better than women do.”
“Shut up! You don’t age at all, you witch!” Patty takes offense.
“Do you remember in college, we wanted to jump every professor we saw? Even though none of them were even that hot.”
“There’s plenty of young guys who want older women. Cougars are the new thing, I swear. There’s even a TV show about it, now. Monica from Friends gets new, hot young dick every episode.”
“That’s if I can find one, first. It’s not like they’re not just parading down our street.” We fall silent, munching on our brownies, going over our list of young hot studs we know. A very short list.
“Oh! I know! I know!” Patty turns to me, bouncing up and down, eyes wide, a light bulb going off behind them. “What about Bobby?”
“Bobby...your son, Bobby?” I ask, incredulous. Patty and Rob are open about a lot of things, but her 40 year old friend dating her 20 something son? That was a bit over the top.
“He’s young, single, and he has a different girl on his arm every time he visits.” I haven’t seen him since he went off to boarding school, a lanky limbed, goofy grinned boy.
“So what? He’s young. That’s what college guys do. There’s nothing wrong with dating.” I couldn’t even imagine what he looks like now with all the awkwardness of the pubescent teen gone.
“Not the way he goes through these poor girls. When he brings one home, I just want to grab her and tell her to run for the hills.”
“Really?” I’m intrigued. Bobby’s a player, now? The little boy who came crying cause his parents almost got a divorce?
“He needs to settle down. I’m gonna call him!” She whips out her phone.
“Please don’t.” I grab the phone out of her hands, knowing how impulsive she is and how surprisingly quick she is with her hands. “Patty, I’m not dating your son.”
“Why not? He’s exactly what you need. Young, hot and definitely all stud. I would know. I’m his mom.” She gives me a knowing wink. “And the way those girls cry his name when they think they’re sneaking off to the bathroom? Oh Bobby! Oh my Bobby boy, make me cum, please!” Patty thrashes around on the couch, reenacting her own son’s skill.
Does she have no borders that she wouldn’t cross? I guess someone like her wouldn’t. I wish I’m more like her: more open, more brave.
“Ew, Patty! Stop! Please I don’t want to picture that!” Sweet, innocent little Bobby making college girls cum? It’s really not something I want to think about. He’d always be the boy next door who’s perfect for my daughter. Definitely not me.
“What?” She laughs at my embarrassment. What isn’t she OK with? I couldn’t wait till I find out and get my sweet revenge on her.
“Isn’t he about to graduate from Northfield?” I try to change the subject.
“Yup! What better reason to get better acquainted?” And we’re back. One track mind, this woman.
“I don’t even care about that right now. Don’t you get it? There are more important things than dick.”
“There are?” Patty looks confused and I don’t know if she’s making fun of me.
“Uh, cheating husband, impending divorce. Hello? My life has been flipped upside down, shaken out, and left to dry.”
“You’re so pessimistic. I promise you, this is a good thing. You can go out, have fun, fuck Bobby. Do whatever you want!”
“It’s just—I don’t know how.” I purposefully ignore the fuck Bobby part. “How do you guys do it? Other than, you know, the whatever.”
“The swinging?” She teases me, knowing how I’m uncomfortable with it. “The orgies? The hot mess of bodies, cum, and sandwiches?”
“Sandwiches?”
“Group sex is hungry work.” She shrugs, grinning from ear to ear. I might never understand it, but I’m not so presumptuous to judge other people for it.
“Well, other than the sex parties, how do you guys do it? How do you have fun?” I really want to know. They’re always out and about, having a good time, acting half their age. I hav
en’t really been jealous of all of that. Till now.
“Easy. With these.” She takes another brownie and downs it in two bites. The woman knew how to eat.
“I don’t understand. What do brownies have to do with happiness?” I follow her example and devour my second. I guess sweets can help.
“Uh, honey? You might want to slow down on those.”
“Ouch, Patty. Do I really look that fat? I know I’ve been—”
“No, no. You look perfect, baby!” She reassures me and my plentiful insecurities. “You’re one sexy momma. I wish I was your size.” I love Patty. “What I’m saying is those brownies aren’t regular ol’ brownies.”
“I figured. Did you put kale in them? Or quinoa?”
“Umm...close. It is a plant.” Oh, god.
“What did you put in them?” I know what she’s going to say before she says it.
“Pot.”
For the second time today, I groan audibly.
CHAPTER 5
BOBBY
When I’m nearing the gym, I can already feel my tense body relax. This is my one vice. A necessary vice.
Liv was right. “He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster. And if thou gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will also gaze into thee.”
That’s what Nietzsche really said. I always thought he was like an angsty teen and a lot of what he said can really relate to an angsty teen. In fact, he basically invented the philosophy of angst so it all makes sense.
But this one quote can apply to a great many things, not just existential crises of pubescent teens.
If you deprive yourself of that one thing that makes you happy, what’s left but emptiness. Without love, you’re a shell of a human and all that lies within you is an abyss.
And depriving myself of Lisa, the light of my life meant residing in darkness. Living so long in cold isolation can’t have no effect on a human soul. It creates something else to replace what should’ve been brightness and happiness.
Instead of love, something black and angry grew in its place, always churning right beneath the surface, ready to lash out and erupt at any second.