by Romi Hart
“Because I know you,” I say staring her down. “I knew exactly the kind of guy you would go for after ridding yourself of me. I know what attracts you. I know what you respond to. And I knew Antonio, who I know from way back, was the right man for the job. After all…I couldn’t afford to risk losing you to some psychopath in a poor man’s bar. If you’re going to cheat on me, it has to be with a man of my choosing, a man who deserves you and can handle you.”
“Oh my God,” she laughs. “You are the most possessive guy I’ve ever met.”
“And you like it.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. We just made you cum by dominating you and telling you exactly what to do. Sometimes what a girl wants most is to not think and to just feel. Isn’t that right?”
She sighs and stares at me in judgment. Her outrage melts away until she second-glances me in curiosity.
“Admit it. You liked it. It’s even more perverse that this spontaneous fuckfest was all planned by yours truly.”
“So what do you want?” she says with roll of her head. “An award?”
“Yes. I want an award. I want you to admit it. Say I’m kinkier than you are. I’m wilder than you are. I surpassed your expectations.”
She gradually smiles. “You get partial credit. You’re ALMOST as kinky as I am. Almost.”
My smile releases and I look on in dread. “And…when you let me…inside you…”
“Don’t worry, I’m on birth control. So don’t freak out. Your worst nightmare isn’t happening, okay?”
I nod in relief.
“Believe me, you’re the last man that should be reproducing, Zander.”
“I want to see you again. I want you, Maya. I want to give you every experience you crave, beyond your wildest imagination. You’ll never have any limits with me, not when I’m doing my worst.”
“And what if I don’t want you?”
“Then I’ll chase you,” I respond strongly. “I’ll not relent until I win. Until I possess all of you, always. Everything about you, screams me. We’re meant to be. Can’t you feel it?”
I grip her sweating, filthy body firmly and kiss her on the lips with greedy lips. All my mess, all my doing. I can corrupt her, or I can treat her like an angel. She’ll be my Madonna, or she’ll be my whore. But whatever Maya DeBank wants to be, she will be mine and only mine.
Chapter 7
Maya
The idea of Zander chasing me has me all horny and brainless lately. I’m at that point where it doesn’t matter that I know this relationship is going to be toxic. I just want the adrenaline, I want the intoxication. I want all the drama and hurt feelings that come with the reluctant orgasms. It’s all part of the delirious package, the contract I sign to experience dangerous sex. I’ve had this cross of virginity taken from me and now all that’s left is a demon inside. Craving more sin, craving the perversity that was promised if I swayed from the path of righteousness.
“It’s been a long time,” the priest says, recognizing my voice, which is now tainted with guilt, throaty with worldly wisdom and moral stains that can never be wiped clean.
“I’m here to confess.”
“You went chasing after the world. Most people do reach a dead-end at some point.”
“Yes. But that’s not what I want to confess.” Why would I? I’ve never been happier chasing the world, the world in the elusive decadent billionaire. The Devil himself, Zander Troy. An addiction I have yet to fully embrace.
“I’ve acted selfishly…I’ve hurt other people. I want to repent for that.”
“Who did you hurt?”
“My friend. My heart blinded me to how stupid I was acting. It was a stupid fight over a guy. I owe her an apology.”
“Have you spoken to her?”
“No. I cut her out of my life entirely.”
“Then maybe you should go to her first before confession.”
“I know…I just…part of me still feels jealous. Part of me still hates her.”
“Are you in love with this man now?”
“No,” I answer quickly, all too aware that this can’t be love, whatever this obsession is.
“But you regret that your escapades cost you a valuable friendship.”
“Maybe. Something like that.”
“Maybe by avoiding a conversation with her, you’ve only complicated the situation further.”
“What do you mean? She’s not with him either. He left her and then I shunned her for stabbing me in the back. Now I want nothing to do with him. That’s it.”
“Mmm-hmm,” the priest says tiredly. “Youth. How unfortunate that even I, in my old age, understand the secret motivations of your friends even better than you do.”
“What?”
After a strange clairvoyant moment with the priest, I decided to confront Zander in his office. He had obviously been slacking all day, legs up on his chair and surfing the Internet on his tablet.
“I thought we broke up?”
I stare at him in quiet resentment. “Just answer me one question honestly. I promise I won’t get mad.”
“I’ve never lied about anything. Go ahead.”
“You’re still fucking Renee, aren’t you? Even after our affair, you were still seeing her.”
“No. But I intend to see her.”
I stare at him, tongue in cheek. Silent stewing resentment…jealousy…but not anger. After all, he’s not lying. I can only be so catty in a situation like this.
“I’m going to fuck her.”
“Why?”
“Because you made it clear we’re not together,” he says, his eyes staring me down in vengeance. “Perhaps we were never together, nothing beyond a few dates where we both got what we wanted.”
“You got a hot young body and used me.”
“Yes and you used me. We used each other. We traded sex for sex. Are you here to tell me you’re in love with me?”
“No,” I answer sharply. “I don’t believe in love, Zander.”
“That makes two of us.”
“So go ahead and date Renee.”
“I am going to. And I don’t need your permission.”
“Good, well I guess that’s all. I have a date too.”
“Couldn’t care less.” He shrugs. “Oh, but…I do request one thing.”
“What?”
“I want you to apologize to Renee.”
“WHAT? Why would I do that?”
“Because you shunning Renee hurt her feelings immensely. The last conversation we had, YOU were all she talked about. She was very upset at the way you treated her. I want you to apologize to her.”
“I’m not apologizing to her. Girlfriends don’t do that to each other.”
“I’m telling you to apologize,” he says with a glower.
“Oooh, so scared, big daddy. But no, I don’t give a damn. I’ve lost interest in the both of you. Have a good life.”
“Then allow me to apologize first. I’m sorry I slept with your friend. I’m sorry I crossed the line. Now, please, apologize to her. Let’s keep this cycle of goodwill going. This kind of thing could change the world, you know.”
“Yeah, Zander, I’m sure you do think your dick is the thing that’s going to change the world. But no.”
“Just talk to her. You don’t have to apologize but I want there to be peace. I don’t want my relationship with Renee tarnished. I don’t want you to be the only topic of conversation.”
“Your relationship with her? How long have you liked her?!”
“I liked her from the moment I first met her. But I LEFT HER to be with you. Out of respect for YOU. Now that we’re through, I’m going back to her.”
“Oh really?” I say, folding my arms. More annoyed than actually hurt. “You’re going to have a serious relationship with HER? With a slut like Renee?”
“She’s not a slut. I’ve liked her from the very beginning. And who says that I’m not looking for a serious relationship?”
> “Oh bullshit,” I say with a harsh laugh. “You will never be in a serious relationship.”
“Yes. I will. And I plan to. Renee might even be the one I’m looking for.”
“Oh, yeah right!” My jealous instincts take control over me. Strange, especially since I don’t care. But just the idea of him and her together is grating on my nerves. “No, Renee isn’t the one you want, trust me.”
“Why would I trust you? You’re the one who made it clear that we’re finished, Maya. You’re young…I imagine some day you will mature to the point where you understand how a thirty-year-old man feels about loveless sex.”
I send him an evil glance. “Fine. I forgive her. Just both of you, stay the hell away from me. Okay?”
He’s unsatisfied. But I’m tired of dueling his monstrously dark eyes. I just need some time away from him. Maybe this is some weird virgin hangover thing, but all I feel is revulsion at this man and his inability to just keep his hands to himself for more than three days.
Back at work. Renee has been staring at me all day. The last two weeks, we’ve been avoiding each other. I told her what I thought about her then and I cut her out of my life. Now, I’m sure she’s aware that I had a “talk” with her new boyfriend. I’m sure she wants to get my opinion on it but is too chickenshit to actually say it to my face.
I know…I shouldn’t be so butt-hurt about this. I was the one that ended it with Zander first. He basically dumped Renee for me…which was cool. Although I seriously doubt he “dumped her” in the official sense. Having sex is just a bodily function for Zander Troy. He doesn’t believe in relationships. I was the ONLY “relationship” he’s had, probably in months…maybe years.
But I had no choice but to break away. Giving me a threesome of hulking men just days after I lost my virginity was a bit much. Sure, I came. Sure, I have no regrets and it was fucking awesome. But dating that freak is like downing hard whiskey. You don’t do that glorious shit every day…just sometimes on the weekends.
I really have no idea what my future is. Is my destiny to date a lot more guys like Zander before I settle down with a guy like Billy, realizing the futility of loveless sex?
God, I have five more hours of this filing and stamping shit here at the tax office. Time to just zone out and pray for the end of the day…
My eyes open wide as Renee stands in front of me. I’m seated, halfway daydreaming. Not sure if she’s going to smack me or lecture me. I shake my head, snapping back to reality. Oh, crap it’s already quitting time.
To my surprise, she plops a bottle of scotch on my desk.
“You can’t have that in here!” I say, looking around the room.
“Relax, they’re all gone. Want to go to a BYOB restaurant and talk about it?”
“No, I don’t,” I say passively.
“Then just come for the fucking dessert and free scotch.”
I sigh deeply. “Fine.”
Renee drove me over to Palano’s and, indeed, brought the scotch. We were definitely going to need a few drinks to reconcile all that had happened…and to salvage whatever was left of our friendship.
I watch in equanimity as she pours us both a drink.
She looks at the dessert menu, while I silently shake in seething anger. I want to scream…I want to curse…but God, the tiramisu looks really good!
I shrug my anger off and join her at looking at these other recreational drugs, the chocolate, calorie-filled variety.
“Take a drink,” she says. “You’re so goddamned sober all the time.”
“So are we going to talk about this or what?”
“Take a drink first.”
“Fine!” I gulp down a shot and the burn shakes me up. “Mmm…”
“There. Now do you hate me a little less?”
“Uhhhh…” I take another shot. “I don’t hate you.”
“Really?” she asks.
“The truth is…I can’t admit the truth now that I’m tipsy…”
“Yeah and after you selfishly sucked Zander’s cock for yourself.”
I glare at Renee until we both giggle.
“Admit it,” she says. “You were just really mad at me because I had sex with him before you did. And you wanted him.”
“No…”
“And now that you’ve had him, you don’t hate me as much. We hated each other, we both got laid, now we’re over it.”
“Well, first of all, it wasn’t just sex with us. I was…I was…”
“What?” Renee interrupts. “In love with him? Not like all the other girls, but really starting to feel something special with him? Yeah…that’s what every girl thinks, honey.”
I listen nervously, covering my mouth.
“And then you gave up on him. Like all the other girls. Because Zander has no rock bottom. He has no sense of empathy for anyone.”
“Then why are you seriously dating him?” I snipe back.
Renee laughs quietly. “Zander thinks we’re seriously dating. I’m not that stupid. I know he’ll get bored of me eventually. But why not tag along for the ride?”
“Are you in love with him?”
“I do understand him. The fear of commitment. The non-existent emotional intimacy. The empty soul inside that only comes to life when there’s drugs, parties and fucking? Maybe I understand him so well because we’re the same.”
“And you realize he’s going to break your heart one day? I mean, Jesus, Renee…don’t you have any self-respect? I wouldn’t do that to my own heart.”
“You have a heart, Maya? Good for you…but speak for yourself.” She downs another shot of whiskey and smiles.
It was hard making up with Renee, at least at first. Petty feelings of jealousy still poked at me. She was dating my ex-lover. She was making out with the guy who not too long ago professed that he loved me.
But then I reminded myself that being illogically jealous was such apelike behavior. Who cares if she was fucking my ex? He wasn’t even my ex, he was just my Valentine’s Day gift, so to speak. A gift I gave myself. The fact that I broke things off with him just proved that I knew we weren’t compatible in the long-term. It was the logical thing to do, the feminist thing to do. Sure better than being all cutesy and sending him smoochy texts all day and begging for his attention!
I’m a proud woman. Maybe I’m not a virgin anymore but I still consider myself special and so I am deserving of a special man. Someone who appreciates the honor of being with me. Someone who is completely satisfied being with me and just me. And he doesn’t lust after any of my friends, for starters!
Renee and I have tried to be friends again and it’s worked—with some reservations. I made it clear I don’t want to talk about Zander. I don’t know exactly what it is that he and I have together, but it’s not friendship and it’s not a relationship. I prefer not to think about him at this stage in my life. Renee agreed to those terms and so, with that golden rule in mind, we actually started hanging out on Saturdays again.
For some reason, Zander was never available on Saturdays which left Renee with nothing to do. She crashed over my place, kind of like the way things used to be before.
Just talking, drinking, and complaining about men—with the exception of her “boyfriend” of course. Zander is the last thing I want to hear about.
I pour myself a glass of brandy and listen to Renee griping about her go-nowhere job, her grim future, and, of course, her general view of the opposite sex based on no one in particular.
“Guys are unfaithful by their nature. I mean, I don’t want to say anything but…”
“But what?” Renee says with a sarcastic grin.
“I’m not saying anything,” I say in sarcasm.
“Just because my boyfriend, who shall not be named, goes out on Saturdays doesn’t mean he’s cheating. I mean, he’s a businessman, he’s got things to do and places to be.”
“Or people to do…”
“Nope. Not at all concerned about that,” she taunts back. “You kn
ow you’ve met an honest guy when you walk into his bedroom at three o’clock in the morning and ask him what he’s doing and he replies stoically…”
Renee tightens her face and stares at me straight, imitating the man we both hate to love. “Well, darling, I was pleasuring myself. Why?”
“Now that is an honest man.” I laugh.
“I know, right? Even I was like, ‘Jesus, dude. Lie once in a while.’ But yeah that’s just one of those things I know about Zander. Maybe that other women don’t know…that he’s not the kind of guy to cheat. He’s the kind of guy to tell you he’s going to sleep with someone else and that’s that. There are no secrets with him.”
“Well…you’re damn sure about that.” I frown and take another gulp from my glass.
Renee looks at me sheepishly, realizing I still have issues. Of course I do. Maybe that’s my own fault for dating a billionaire psychopath.
“Do you ever feel guilty?” Renee asks me, unusually frowny, as if she’s in deep thought.
“Guilty? For what, for Zander?”
“For any of it. You were raised Catholic, weren’t you?”
“Yes. I still go to confessional once in a while,” I say with a slinky smile.
“Oh my God, did you tell the priest about Zander?”
“Nooo, noo. No names. I just sort of confess things sometimes. Not because I actually believe God cares about any of this, but because I just sort of…enjoy confessing kinky shit. It’s like, it reminds me that this has really happened. It’s not a memory. It’s a part of me. It will always be. Somewhere in the universe. Do I sound drunk?”
“Lil bit,” she teases. “But you don’t feel bad about what happened? With me or Zander?”
“I’ve put it behind me. I’m not quite sure how to reconcile it. Like, whether I had love for him or not. I think maybe we could have loved each other…but I don’t really think he’s capable of love. Maybe that’s why I left and stopped chasing him so much.”
“Maybe he feels love,” Renee says, a little too optimistically, if you ask me. “Maybe just in a different way than other people do, you know?”