by J. S. Cooper
2
I don’t care about love. It means nothing to me. I’ve told you that already. Men, for the most part, can’t be trusted. I know that. You know that. They know that. Do you know how many husbands I see at the club trying to get into my pants? As if I can’t see the tan line on their finger from where they’ve taken their wedding ring off. It’s shameful. Love is a charade. A charade that men go along with so they can treat women like crap and get away with it.
I sound bitter, don’t I? What got in this bitch’s bonnet? Is what you’re thinking right now, right? Look, we’re not friends and I don’t care what you think of me, but I’m going to let you in on a little secret. I do care about love, just a little bit. It’s not an everyday thing. I don’t walk down the streets looking for Mr. Right. I’m not online looking at rings, daydreaming of getting married on some white sand beach in St. Barts.
No, it hits me when I’m in bed late at night and I realize I’m all alone. Sometimes it hits me and I think, Is this it? That’s a powerful moment. We’ve all experienced it at some point. “Is this my life?” It’s scary. Not only because you realize you’re not fulfilled but also because you don’t know what to do to fix it.
Sometimes I think, maybe a husband would provide me the security and the happiness I’m searching for. Maybe a man could fill that void. Then I think of all the problems that men bring with them and I know that’s not it.
I know it’s not a baby, either. Don’t get me wrong, babies are cute, but I need my sleep. Long, deep hours of slumber are the only way I can survive. That was until I met Dominic. He turned my every thought and emotion on its head.
The Day Dominic Found Out My Name
If you believe in things like fate—which I don’t, by the way—you’ll think that my meeting Dominic at the coffee shop was a sign that we were meant to be together. I mean, he’s hot, I’m hot—what more could one want, right?
Everything seemed to go in slow motion that morning. I’d woken up feeling tired and uneasy. I’d rolled out of bed and pulled on a T-shirt and jeans without even thinking of makeup or underwear. I hadn’t even brushed my hair, just scooped it up into a ponytail. For some reason, I just needed to get out of the apartment. I wanted fresh air and a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee.
Being that I’m not one of those girls into running every morning, I decided to go to the Starbucks at the corner of the street and not the gourmet coffee shop about three blocks away. What can I say? If I don’t have to walk too far, I’m not going to. I ordered a white chocolate mocha. I know, I know. Who has a white chocolate mocha when they are in need of a coffee fix? Then I waited for my drink as patiently as possible.
I knew the minute he walked into the store. It was as if someone had reached out and pricked me with a pin. I felt a short, quick jab of pain. And then I saw him. His eyes looked surprised when he saw me. Surprised, but happy. He came over to me right away. I was taken aback by the hug he gave me.
“Imagine seeing you again.”
“You’d think we lived in the same city or something.” I raised an eyebrow at him, and he laughed.
“You look different.”
“From what? Other human beings?”
“From the night I saw you at the club.”
“Oh, because I have on clothes?”
“No, because you have on no makeup.” He surveyed my face and smiled. “You’re pretty without makeup.”
“Should I say thank you now? Should I preen up at you and blink my eyelashes?”
“If you want.” He grinned down at me, his aquamarine eyes shining, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back at him. “So what’s your name, Ms. Pretty With No Makeup On?”
“That’s for me to know.” I looked away from him, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
I’d never had it this easy and carefree before. I didn’t like it. I needed to know why a man was into me. I needed to know what he wanted. I didn’t know what he wanted.
“Want to sit together?”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You haven’t even ordered as yet.”
“I’ll order, then we can sit and chat like two normal adults.”
“I’m not normal.”
“I’ve gathered that.” His eyes crinkled, and I watched as he ran his hands through his damp, dark brown hair.
“Are you saying I’m weird?” I frowned, and that’s when it happened.
“Saskia!” the stupid barista shouted out, and I froze. “Saskia.”
“Is that your name?” He grinned at me. “I like that. I like Saskia.”
And that was it. My secret was out. I guess you know, too, now. My name is Saskia. I’ll keep my last name private. A girl’s got to keep something to herself, right?
I wish I could tell you that what happened next was something from a movie. That we went and sat down and had coffee and fell in love, slowly but surely, reveling in the wonders of each other. That’s not what happened.
Dominic went and got his drink, and I waited for him. We sat down at a table, and within a few minutes, my right foot was out of my sandal and in his crotch, rubbing him gently. He didn’t even look surprised. I’ll give him that. I suppose when you’re tall, hot, and loaded (I could tell he was loaded by his twenty-thousand-dollar Rolex and his five-thousand-dollar Italian leather shoes), women are all over you. He grabbed my foot as I continued caressing his growing hardness and started massaging it, caressing my arches and kneading my pressure points.
I saw a couple of people staring at us, but neither of us cared. They were just jealous. Who wouldn’t want to get a foot massage in a Starbucks? Of course, it was all too comfortable and sweet. You should know that by now. So I leaned forward, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him toward me.
“Meet me in the bathroom in three minutes. The code is 34568. I’ll leave it unlocked.” I pulled my foot back, placed it back into my shoe, and stood up slowly, giving him a wide smile before slowly licking my lips and walking to the bathroom.
Now, you should know that there are two kinds of girls that have casual sex. The ones who hope the casual sex becomes a relationship and the ones like me who don’t give a fuck. We just want it hot and fast and we don’t care if we ever hear from the guy again. Men don’t get us. They expect all of us women to be clingy and hinting to see each other again, and the worst is when we go for declarations of love. When a woman is like a man and just takes what she wants, she makes the man uncomfortable. I love making men uncomfortable. And I very much wanted to make Dominic uncomfortable because he was making me feel things I’d never felt before.
“I’m here.” He entered the bathroom, staring at me with wide eyes. I grinned at the shock in his expression. “What if someone else had entered?” He stared at my naked body in shock.
“Just shut up.” I swiftly moved toward him and ran my fingers down his chest as I kissed him.
He passionately kissed me back and pushed me back into the sink. His fingers found my breasts and squeezed, gently playing with my nipples as he cupped them. I reached down to his pants and unzipped him, eagerly pulling his hard cock out. I moaned against him as I felt his fingers playing with my clit. I was already wet, and all I could think about was feeling him inside me.
He rubbed his cock against me and I closed my legs, hoping to feel him slide up inside me. This is what I liked about hot and quick fucks. There were no games. There was no playing around. You just got straight to the point.
“Not yet, Saskia.” He laughed, turned me around, and slapped my ass a few times. “Like that, do you?”
“Shut up, you sadist.” I laughed and bent over the sink. “Just fuck me.”
“Okay.” He grabbed my hips, pulled my ass back to him, and then quickly entered me. “Shit, you feel so good,” he said, moaning as his cock slid in and out of me roughly.
I moaned in response to him and looked into the mirror in front of me. Our eyes met, and we both stared at the other as he continued to fuck me hard. I watched as my breasts jiggled against
the sink and then as his fingers reached around to play with them.
“I’m nearly about to come.” He grunted. “Are you?”
“No.” I shook my head, and he moaned.
Then he reached his fingers down and started playing with my clit as he continued to fuck me. I immediately felt my walls tensing as my orgasm built up.
“Oh yeah!” I screamed as his cock slammed in and out of me while his fingers rubbed me furiously. “Just keep rubbing,” I commanded him, not wanting him to stop either action.
“Fuck, I’m about to come!” he shouted, and I felt his body shuddering as he released inside me.
My body started trembling about twenty seconds later as his fingers brought me to orgasm as well.
“I’m coming!” I screamed loudly as our bodies shuddered together.
BANG BANG.
The door opened and a man in a Starbucks uniform walked in.
“What is going on in here?” He looked pissed, and I watched as he stared at us. I gave him a small grin and gyrated my hips against Dominic. “Get the fuck out of my store or I’ll call the police.”
“Yes, sir.” I squeezed my breasts together as he stared at me. “Sorry.”
“You have two minutes.” His face was red, but his eyes never left my breasts.
I gave my nipples a quick squeeze for his benefit. “Sure.” I laughed, and he walked out.
I pulled away from Dominic, quickly grabbed my clothes, and pulled them on. Dominic had a dazed expression on his face as if he couldn’t understand what had just happened. I smiled to myself as I walked out of the bathroom with him following me. I felt like I was in charge again, and that was how I liked it.
“Will I see you again?” He looked at me casually as we quickly left the store, both of us grinning as the manager shouted.
“I don’t think so.” I shook my head and tried not to think about how good he had felt inside me.
“I’m going away next weekend.” He made a face. “Family get-together, even though Dad is bringing work home with him.”
“I don’t care.” I shrugged and looked away.
“But maybe we can get together the weekend after that?”
“No.” I sighed and looked at him. “Thanks for the fuck, but I’m not interested. I don’t want to date. I don’t want to get to know you. I don’t want anything to do with you.”
“You don’t want another hot fuck?” he whispered in my ear. “Next time, it could be somewhere crazy, like the train.”
“The train?” I paused and looked up at him, willing my heart to stop beating so fast. “You want to fuck on the train?”
“Why not?” He shrugged, but I could see the huge grin on his face that he couldn’t hide. “Shit, I’m not going to beg you to date me if all you want to do is fuck. I’m down for whatever.”
Note to self and note to you—if a guy says that he is down for whatever, it means that he likes you. It means that he will try to be with you any way he can. It means that he wants to try to worm his way into your heart. I didn’t know that then. I wish I had known that then.
“Fine. We’ll fuck on the train. Wednesday.” My words were short.
“Can I get your number?”
“No.”
“How can we coordinate it?”
“Give me yours.” I handed him my phone and waited for him to input it. “I’ll text you on Wednesday an hour before I catch the train telling you which train and what time. You can’t make it or you don’t make it, then that’s it.”
“I do work, you know.” He smiled at me. “I have business meetings I—”
“I don’t give a fuck.” I smiled at him sweetly. “We do this, we do it by my rules.”
“Okay. So Wednesday, I’ll be on high alert.”
“Good for you.”
“Maybe you’ll let me buy you lunch or dinner or whatever after.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“You’re a hard girl to get to know.” He shook his head at me as we stood on the corner.
“I have a boyfriend.” I wasn’t sure why I told him. Maybe because I wanted to make him feel bad. Or maybe because I didn’t want him to pursue me anymore. Maybe I wanted him to think I was a slut so he wouldn’t keep giving me those smiles.
“I guess he’s not doing something right.” He laughed, though I could see from the look in his eyes that he was taken aback.
“Actually, he fucks me like he was made to do it.” I grinned at him and ran my fingers down his chest. “I think I orgasm every single time from his cock alone.”
He stared back at me then, and I could see that he was angry or offended or whatever handsome guys get when you subtly put them down.
“I don’t know what happened to you, Saskia. Why you have this wall up, but I’m determined to figure you out. I’m determined to show you that all men aren’t scum.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes.
“My parents have a great marriage. They’ve been together for over thirty years now and they are still very much in love.”
“Well, bully for them.” I leaned over and kissed him softly. “But now I have to go. Wait for my call.”
And then I walked away. I could feel him watching me keenly. I hurried, my heart racing. I was scared. He had reacted in a way I hadn’t expected.
I reached my apartment building and opened the door quickly and called Tom.
“Hey. What are you doing?” I asked sweetly as soon as he picked up.
“I was about to take that girl, Alice, out on a lunch date. You remember her from the party a few nights ago?”
“Oh yeah. The cute girl with the short, blond hair?”
“Yeah. We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now. I think it could go somewhere—”
“I need you to cancel,” I interrupted him. “I need you to come over.”
“Now?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” He hung up, and I sat back on the couch.
I wish I could tell you that I felt bad for Alice. She had no idea that the guy she was seeing was about to ditch her so he could come and fuck me. She had no idea that I had him wrapped around my little finger. She’d seemed like a nice enough girl, but that wasn’t my problem. What Tom did in his personal life was his business. I just knew that when I needed someone to fuck and hold me, Tom was the one to call.
He always made everything feel all right. Or rather, he made me forget my own problems. He was good for me that way. Or maybe he was just really bad for me. I don’t know. And I really didn’t care. I liked things to be numb. Numb was safe. Numb didn’t make you feel like you wanted to die.
Tom arrived quickly. He always did. I suppose I was his drug as much as he was mine. I don’t even think he told Alice he was ditching her because his phone rang and rang and rang as we fucked on the living room floor. I glanced at it, saw her name, and closed my eyes as I gripped the rug. That had been a mistake.
As soon as I closed my eyes, I saw Dominic’s face. I imagined that it was him sliding in and out of me, holding on to my hips tightly. I quickly opened my eyes to forget his image, but I couldn’t. He had already worked his way into my psyche.
I screamed as I orgasmed, my body enjoying the release, but mentally, all I could think about was Wednesday. Wednesday would be exciting and fun. Wednesday, I’d get to fuck Dominic again. Wednesday, I’d get to stop the numbness and feel alive.
I froze as I realized that, for the first time in my life, I was actually looking forward to seeing a man.
I should have known then that something was going to go wrong. I should have known that Dominic, with all of his bravado and concern, wouldn’t be able to accept everything. I should have known that no one is immune to love.
If only I’d decided to not text him that Wednesday. If I hadn’t texted him, maybe everything in my life would still be okay. Unfortunately, I messed up, and I did text. In fact, I texted before Wednesday. Those texts marked the beginning of the end for me. And it a
ll started with a simple, “What are you doing?”
3
Sometimes I wonder what’s wrong with me. I mean, I have to have some sort of psychological problems, right? Unless I’m a sociopath. Though I don’t like blood and the thought of harming someone physically makes me feel sick. So, I suppose that means I can’t be a sociopath, right? No need to answer that. I doubt you know what my problem is, either.
I texted Dominic on Monday all day. I hadn’t meant to. It just sort of happened. I told myself that it was nothing and that I was bored. It’s boring being a kept woman. There are only so many shoes you can buy. Trust me, I know.
I was also feeling nervous—something I didn’t really feel. Aiden had stepped things up a bit. He wanted me to travel with him the next weekend. He said that I would be his assistant. Well, that was the official story. I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to have to go anywhere and have to lie, but it wasn’t up to me.
He would pick me up Friday night and we were going to some work event or something. I didn’t care that he wouldn’t introduce me as his girlfriend. I knew why he couldn’t. I knew why and it didn’t matter to me. I guess I’m a cold-hearted bitch like that. Well, I’m starting to think that I’m not so cold-hearted.
Meeting Dominic changed something in me. What can I say about Dominic that doesn’t sound cliché or puke worthy? I guess I could tell you that he makes me laugh. He makes me laugh good, old-fashioned, rip-roaring laughs that make my sides ache and my throat sore. He has a way with words. A way that’s self-deprecating and amusing at the same time. He’s complimentary, but he doesn’t try too hard. It feels natural with him. As natural as anything can feel to me.
And he loves sex. And he’s not ashamed to admit it. I’d never sexted with anyone before. I know, you’re shocked. How can I, queen of liberal sex, not have sexted? Well, I hadn’t. Though now that I know what I was missing, that might change.