Urban Climber 2

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Urban Climber 2 Page 7

by Hunter, S. V.


  “No, Hugo.”

  “Say yes, you dirty girl.”

  “Yes, Hugo.”

  “I wanted to fuck you so hard when your wrists were taped the other night. Do you know that? Do you know how much of a hard-on you gave me, watching you all scared and pitiful?”

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  “Because then you would have had me up for rape, Laura. And you’re not worth the jail time.”

  “Aren’t I?”

  “No.”

  “So how did you get over your boner?”

  “Simple.” He laughs. “I fucked the air hostess on the way back.”

  I push the screen back and scream, “You did what?”

  “Shit. I was just about to come. Why’d you have to ruin the moment by shoving your face in the camera?”

  “What moment? This is bordering on psychotic,” I cry, covering myself in a blanket.

  “Don’t cover up,” he groans. “Why are you doing that, Laura? Now we’ll have to start all over again.”

  “I’m not doing that again.” I shake my head. “I’m too upset.”

  “What? Why? What have I done now?”

  “So since we got back together, you’ve already cheated on me?”

  “No.” He shakes his head, putting his dick back in his pants. “You were still trying to decide. Thursday you made your choice, and since then, I haven’t cheated.”

  “It’s been one day,” I yell, throwing my arms in the air. “One. Stupid. Day!”

  “There goes your blanket,” he sniggers. “Wanna bend over and pick it up for me?”

  “No,” I huff. “No, I do not. I can’t do this right now, Hugo; I’m too upset.”

  “Don’t you love your parents, darling?”

  “Of course I do. Why do you keep asking me that?”

  “Then bend over right now and shove your tits in the fucking camera.”

  “Or what?”

  “You’ll be very, very, sorry.”

  EIGHT

  I don’t know whether the idea was for me to come or just him. But I couldn’t. Everything about it repulsed me. I peer out my bedroom window, watching as the rain splatters onto the old, cracked pane. The light is fading now too—it must be almost dinnertime. I should get myself something to eat before Mel gets back. Eat in my room, get some studying done, and go to sleep. I know it’s not very social, but I can’t face her right now. I can’t deal with her judgment. I can hardly deal with my own. I wrap my robe around my body and shuffle out into the hallway.

  “Hey, girl.”

  “Oh,” I pause, “I didn’t think you were home.”

  “I got in about twenty minutes ago. You okay? I heard a few yells.”

  I nod, pulling my robe tighter across my breasts. “Yeah, we’re fine. Just trying to iron out a few crinkles, I guess you could say.”

  “Crinkles?”

  “Issues or whatever you wanna call them.” I purse my lips together, trying to fake a smile, but my soul is as broken as the window in my room.

  “Do you wanna talk about it, babe?”

  I shrug, pulling a boxed dinner meal out of the freezer. “Not really. I know how you feel about him, so it’s probably best if we keep him out of the conversation.”

  She pulls a face, exhaling into her cup of coffee. “I’m sorry about how I’ve been lately. I know I’ve been cold.”

  I raise my eyebrow. Talk about the understatement of the year. She’s been colder than my dinner from the moment she saw his ring. “I know you don’t understand it, Mel.”

  “I guess I don’t have to.”

  I turn and look back at her as I lean against the kitchen counter. “Serious?”

  “Yeah. It’s none of my business. And I know what I said, but I love you to pieces, and if you wanna be with Hugo, and he makes you happy, then I’m gonna stay out of it.”

  “You are?”

  “Yup,” she sighs again, “because no matter what you do, I don’t wanna lose you or our friendship. I know it’s not biological, but you’re like family to me, and I love you with all my heart.”

  Tears rush to my eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “I’m really sorry for hurting you and not supporting you. I mean, really, what would I know about being in a relationship? The closest thing I’ve got to seeing a guy on a regular basis is Mark.”

  I drop my head to one side. “Who?”

  “You know.” She giggles.

  “What? The pizza delivery guy?”

  “Yeah,” she laughs, “and the only reason he comes around is because of your love for pineapple and cheese.”

  I giggle. “Thanks, Mel. I know it’s hard to understand, but trust me, I’m doing the right thing for everyone. And even though it doesn’t feel like it at the moment, sooner or later, everything will work out.”

  Her eyes narrow. “That’s a bit beauty pageant, isn’t it?”

  “You’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

  “I do.” She smiles weakly. “And I know how much you love him. You always did.”

  I nod, wishing I still felt the same way. “So anyway, how’s things with you? Dating anyone?”

  “Funny you should ask.” She smiles. “‘Cause I wanted to ask you something, and I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

  Ding.

  “There’s my dinner,” I laugh, pulling it out from the microwave and sliding it onto one of her bright green dinner plates. “Sorry—go on.”

  “Ash.”

  “Yeah?” My eyes narrow. “What about him?”

  “Well, you’re obviously not interested in him anymore now that you’re marrying Smit.”

  “So?”

  “So,” she pauses, twisting her hair around her finger “I was wondering if …”

  “If what?” I lean forward. “Spit it out.”

  “If you’d mind giving me his number?”

  “What?” My fork slips through my fingers and falls to the ground with a clatter. “No!” I cough. “No way!”

  “Take it easy!” she laughs, raising her eyebrows. “Why not?”

  “Because … because I said so, that’s why.”

  “But you’re marrying Hugo. What difference does it make to you who Ash sees?”

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” I grizzle, bending down and picking up the silverware.

  “Why do you care?”

  “Mel!” I huff. “Can you let it go, please? I’m not gonna give you his number, end of story.”

  “Fine,” she snaps. “I’ll just ask him for it next time he comes sniffing around my door for you.”

  “He’s not going to be coming around anymore. I set him straight today.”

  “So what’s the problem then?”

  “Don’t!” I yell. “Just don’t, okay? If you want to fuck—go fuck. But don’t fuck him ‘cause I’m warning you, he’s outta bounds.”

  “Oooh, outta bounds!” she laughs. “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s not like you can have him.”

  “And neither can you! That’s all that means.”

  She pulls a face, crossing her arms. “I used to love living with you, Laura, but lately …”

  “What?” I glare into her eyes. “Lately … what?”

  “Well, if you must know, I feel like I’m walking on eggshells every time I’m around you. And it sucks ‘cause it’s my house!”

  “Well, you’ll be pleased to know I won’t be here much longer, anyway.”

  “Huh?”

  “Once the semester is over, I’m going home for Christmas, and I’m staying there, so you won’t have to put up with me any more.”

  Blondie didn’t expect that. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, you’re not. Just forget it, Mel. I’ve got enough going on in my life without having to worry about upsetting you as well. I never should have come back here. I should have just flown back with Hugo when I had the chance.”

  “So why did you come back?”

  “Because I j
ust wanted to get to the end of the year and because I loved living with you. You’re like the sister I never had. I felt like I could tell you anything and you’d never judge me.”

  “And you don’t feel that way anymore?”

  I drop my plate into the sink, and it crashes loudly against the pile of other dishes. “What do you think?”

  “Laura,” she takes a step towards me. “I’m sorry, okay, babe?”

  I shake my head, turning on my heels. “Yeah, whatever. I’m going to bed. Have a great night.”

  “Aren’t you going to finish your meal?” Mel calls after me. “You’ve hardly had anything.”

  “You’re not my mom, so just shut your face and stop babying me! I’m over it.” I yell, running down the hallway and slamming my bedroom door behind me.

  What have I done?

  I want to scream from the rooftops that I’m in love with Ash.

  I want to pick up the phone and call him.

  I want to run all the way to his place and kiss his soft, beautiful lips.

  I want to feel his fingertips against my skin.

  I want to fall into his muscular arms and tell him that I’m in love with him too. That what I feel isn’t a crush. That deep down, I know more than anything that I’m head over heels in love with him. That I love him so much it hurts. That ever since I saw him, I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind.

  I drop my hand into the bottom of my purse and feel around for my phone. If I don’t send this message now, I won’t send it at all.

  Me: I love you. Okay? I do. But I can’t be with you. I want to be with you more than you could ever comprehend. But life isn’t that simple, Ash. Nothing is.

  I lean my back against the wall, waiting for his reply for what feels like hours. But I never hear back. I’d like to think that his battery was dead or my message didn’t go through or maybe that he changed his number, but I know I’m lying to myself. As I climb into my bed, I start writing another message, but I can’t send it. Every part of me resists what it will feel like to end all chances to be with him. But I have no other choice than the one I’ve already made. Just as my mind starts to dull into sleepiness, I press send and close my eyes.

  Me: Please don’t talk to me again, Ash. Don’t look at me. Don’t contact me. Don’t come near me. If you see me on campus—pretend you don’t. I can’t do this anymore. And I know you don’t get why. But you don’t have to.

  NINE

  Months later …

  After the fight with Mel, I’ve tried to stay out of the house as much as possible. Sure, I want to tell her why I’m marrying Hugo, but I know she wouldn’t understand. How could she? Her parents don’t even have a mortgage they’ve got so many gold bars coming outta their ass. And yeah, I’ve tried talking to Hugo about how awkward it is living with her, but when he phones me, it’s for other reasons, and my knickers are always around my ankles. Hugo has never mentioned Ash again. He never asks how my studies are going. Never asks me how I am, or what I’m doing. Instead, it’s always the same text—two, sometimes four, times a day:

  Push down your panties, spread your legs, and get ready to make me cum.

  Sometimes, I text back, protesting that it isn’t a good time, but mostly, he ends up getting his way, and I have to drop whatever I’m doing and go somewhere private. The back seat of his car, the fire escape, the local toilets, my bedroom—wherever the closest place is to keep him satisfied for the time being. Thinking about it, I believe he enjoys the thrill of antagonizing me just as much as my monkey. In a lot of ways, it feels like I’ve been boxing shadows these last few months, and from the smirk that sprawls across his face every time, he knows it too.

  What if I get caught half-naked and playing with myself? There would go my dignity right down the drain along with my soul. And the chances of someone catching me are so high I can almost hear the sound of my greatest fears rushing up behind me, crashing down on top of me like a snarling, saber-toothed tiger. And sure, Hugo’s never said as much, but he doesn’t need to. Every time I get that text, he’s contacting me for his end of the bargain, and no matter how horrible it is, I have to face my fate. The writing is on the wall, dripping in deep, red paint: RUN, LAURA. RUN. But I can’t. I don’t have a choice.

  “Rub faster, you little bitch. That’s right, show me how creamy your fingers are.”

  He’s wanking like he’s about to snap it right off. If only.

  “What are you sniggering about?”

  To avoid his question, I bring out the big O. Fake-out time. I’ve got it down to an art now, and it’s so guaranteed to give him satisfaction that I’m half expecting someone from the porn industry to steal my lines or offer me a job. I let out a big moan, pushing the camera between my thighs. “I’m coming, baby, I’m coming so hard.”

  “Don’t you dare,” he groans, wanking faster. “I always come first. Remember?”

  “You’re making me so hot, though,” I pant, “I can hardly stand it, baby.”

  And then, with several grunts and groans, he blows his load—all over the screen. Yay, we’ve reached the happy ending … for now, at least.

  “Do it!” he growls.

  “Mmm, ooooh,” I moan, pushing my tits into the screen.

  “Yeah, baby. That’s right,” he groans. “You like that, don’t you? You like getting your jugs all covered in me.”

  “Yes,” I pant. “Oh, yes. I wish I could taste it.”

  He smirks, wiping off the screen. “You will very soon, Laura, and you’ll be swallowing every drop.”

  Shit. Why did I have to say that? Just the thought of his scent, his strong, salty taste in my mouth, makes me want to barf.

  “Say something.”

  “You know I struggle with that.”

  He shrugs. “You’ll improve.”

  I sit up in the back of his car, crossing my arms over my sheer bra. “Aren’t you getting sick of this?” I mumble. “It’s the fourth time today. Don’t you have meetings to go to or something?”

  “You keeping coming too,” he laughs. “What’s the problem, doll?”

  I smirk, wondering how he can be so stupid. “Nothing, I guess.”

  “So darling, it’s almost that time again. You excited?”

  I smile, buttoning my blouse back up “You know how much I love Christmas. I can’t wait, Hugo. It’s just the best time of the year!”

  “Hey, who said you could put your tits away?”

  “Seriously?” I exhale. “I don’t trust your tinting, no matter how dark you say it is.”

  “So what if someone sees them?”

  “Don’t be like that.”

  “You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you, Laura?”

  “No,” I exhale. “Why would you think that?”

  “You tell me.” He sneers. “You’ve changed since you moved. You’re not as vanilla as you were.”

  “If I’m not, it’s only because of all the kinky things you’ve been getting me to do on camera.”

  “You like it though, doll. I know you do.”

  “Oh, do I?” I purse my lips, pushing down the hem of my skirt.

  “Yes. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be so quick to spread your legs for me each and every day.”

  “I don’t really have a choice now, do I?”

  He sniggers. “Well, thinking about it, I guess you don’t. That’s a bit of a shame now, isn’t it?” I don’t want him to know how much power he has over me, but who am I kidding? He already knows. It’s as obvious as all hell, and he’s screwing the situation for all it’s worth. “So, you excited?”

  “Not long to go now; I can’t believe it.” I smile. “Excited is not the word.”

  “Have you started packing?”

  I giggle. “Have I? I packed a month ago. I can’t wait to come back.”

  “You sweet girl, you can’t wait to be fucked by a real man, can you?”

  I shake my head. “No, Hugo.” I exhale. “It’s all I think about. You rock my boring,
little world. You’re the boss of me.”

  His dark eyes hood. “Say it again, without the sarcasm.”

  “You’re the boss of me,” I breathe as I scan the camera down my body.

 

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