Cheaters Anonymous

by Lacey Silks

  “I doubt that will happen, but thank you.” I looked up and around the club. “This place is really beginning to fill.”

  “Which brings me to my other bad news.”

  Had he seen Brad too?

  “One of the bartenders got sick, and I have to jump in behind the bar for the rest of the night.”

  “It’s a shame it wasn’t one of the dancers,” I joked.

  “I can always accommodate a private dance for you, Jules.”

  I would definitely keep that one in my back pocket. Thinking about Scar maneuvering his slick body against the pole, I imagined him as the star of Magic Mike. I pictured tight boxers hugging his generous curves while he rubbed himself against the metal, slid down, and began grinding on the floor. I just wished I could be there with him.

  “Whatever you’re thinking, my answer is yes.” He startled me. It appeared that Scar had been watching my face with intent as I lost myself to my thoughts.

  The line by the bar extended by a handful of people. “You better get going, Scar. Don’t worry about me. I had a long day anyways, and I’m trying to switch to day shifts, so I think I’ll call it a night.”

  “Let me walk you back to your car, then.”

  “Thank you.”

  As I got up from the table, my purse dropped to the floor, spilling out its contents. Scar crouched to help me gather my makeup and business cards, but when he held the little pink flashlight-like contraption, I froze. There it was: my pocket rocket in Scar’s hands.

  “What’s this?” he asked, pressing the little button. The vibrator buzzed and my cheeks heated. Nope – my entire body heated and hummed with longing at the familiar sound. As recognition set in on Scar’s face, and I flushed with embarrassment.

  “Better keep this one in a zipped pocket, Jules,” he winked.

  “Ahm, thank you.” I got up and found myself in his arms. He tucked a piece of stray hair behind my ear, leaned in, and whispered. “Does it take you long to come using it?”

  What? My entire body responded to his words as if he were asking it to show him.

  “Too personal. Why are you asking me that?”

  “I want to know whether my fingers have worthy competition.”

  Nothing could compare to Scar’s fingers, not even the best vibrator in the world. Of course I couldn’t tell him that. “I love that you’re the same old Scar I knew back home.”

  “There’s a small difference though, Jules.”

  Why did I feel like I was falling into a trap asking my next question? “What is it?”

  “I’m much more experienced.”

  Drip, drip. That was probably the repetitive echo in my panties.

  Scar took my hand and walked me out to the parking lot. A warm gust of summer air carried the smell of ripened fruit. Or maybe it was just my imagination?

  I leaned back against my car. Memories of being that girl who enjoyed one-night stands rushed back. The night always ended with me riding the high of an orgasm without having shades of promiscuity cover my cheeks the next morning. My muscles tensed and a flicker of excitement tickled between my legs, turning into beautiful pulsing. I fought everything inside me not to throw my arms around Scar’s neck and lift my leg over his hip so that he could take me. But that was the old me – the sick me that wanted to ease the pain and forget that I would spend the rest of my life on my own. I’d learned to accept it as truth. Besides, I didn’t want a one-night stand with Scar. I needed much more from him, and for much longer. And if we were to cross that friendship line, I was afraid he would disappear from my life.

  I leaned in and kissed him on his cheek. Scar grasped my wrist and lifted my hand to his lips, hovering them over my skin in a ticklish way before kissing it.

  “Hold on there, you sexy thing. Why do you not lock your car, Jules?”

  “Nobody wants my beat up old junk.” I shrugged, and saw him lean his head to the side.

  “And why do you have an old car?”

  “No time for a new one.”

  He simply shook his head in disapproval. Yes, I could afford a new car, but I had no time or will to shop for one. My back was pressed against the cold metal, and Scar was close enough that I could feel his erection against my belly. Or was it an erection? Actually, I was pretty sure that his regular size was that big. My every muscle begged for a release. It had been a while since I’d found relief. The biggest problem for me was that at times like these, my body didn’t care who would satisfy the ache. Over the past two years I’d been able to control the need, but tonight, after seeing Scar and sitting in a room full of half-naked men and women, where everyone’s agenda was to get laid, raised the euphoria in my veins. My arousal had been building up since the moment I’d stepped into the strip club. The throb between my legs pulsed in a rhythm as Scar’s hand slipped down my curves and onto my thigh and back up. I could smell my excitement in the air, but also saw hesitation in his eyes. It wouldn’t take long – a few strokes and I’d be done. I wanted to grasp his hand and guide him to my inner thigh and soaking panties. I imagined his fingers dragging along my skin. He’d finally reached my apex, push the fabric aside, and I’d let him slide his fingers inside me.

  “You’re panting, Jules.”

  I am?

  “I want to touch you so badly it hurts. But if I do, we’ll cross that line we promised not to.”

  I nodded, yet my mind was still lost to the feel of his body touching mine.

  “Please know that I’m not complaining, but unless you want me to take you right over this hood, I really need you to stop grinding against my cock.”

  Oh, my God! Am I really doing that? My hands shook and legs felt like jelly, and I didn’t even want to think about how swollen my clit was. What the hell had just happened? How could I have slipped?

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be. If there’s one person I enjoy like this, it’s you. I just don’t want you to have any regrets when you wake up tomorrow morning.”

  I was pretty sure that the only regret I’d have would be not feeling his thick cock inside me. Scar took my hand and walked me to the driver’s side. Where did he get all that control from?

  “I’ll see you soon. I promise.” He leaned in and kissed me on my cheek. The heat spread from there outward. This night was everything I imagined it to be. Well, except the part where Scar was actually pounding into me.

  I turned on the ignition. Feeling the car’s engine vibrate my seat didn’t help my cause. I waved to Scar, who waited until I left the parking lot.

  My phone buzzed soon after. I pulled to the side of the road and leaned my head back against the head rest to check my messages.

  Scar: I already miss you.

  Julia: How did you get my number?

  Scar: Don’t you know my fingers do magic? Good night Jules.

  Yes, they certainly do.

  Julia: Good night.

  After what had happened tonight, after what I’d let happen tonight, I knew that I wasn’t as well as I had hoped. Thinking about Scar as more than a friend was wrong. Then why does it feel so right? My insides twisted at the realization that I might have just thrown the last two years of progress down the drain. Agreeing to keep in touch with Scar was definitely a bad idea. Around him, my strength evaporated, and my will was squished like a little bug by a giant. I was afraid that I wasn’t strong enough to not give in. And if I did, everything would be ruined. Our friendship would crumble before we even got a chance to reconnect.

  I showered that night, lathering every inch of my skin, my fingers finally finding that one spot that took the ache away. Massaging the pocket rocket over my clit, I remembered how only hours ago Scar had held my toy in his hands. When I climaxed, nothing else mattered. It was only me and the beautiful hum of water. The pleasure spread through me in bursts and spasms that took me into a world where I didn’t have to care about a soul. A world where my mistakes didn’t exist, and where men like Scar were not on
ly forbidden but also extinct. There was nothing worse than having a man like Scar within reach and not being able to do anything about it.

  That night, I went to bed happy yet sad. My brain seemed to have joined a NASCAR team because it was racing in a world of its own. I tossed and turned, thinking how different my life could have been if we had only stayed in touch, and I finally cried myself to sleep. Yes, Scar Wagner was definitely not healthy for me, but the excitement he gave me solidified my belief that he was also a drug that I was desperate for. One I would find difficult not to abuse.

  CHAPTER 7

  The next morning I woke up with the biggest confusion hangover ever, and the loud banging on the front door wasn’t helping. I opened one eye, then the other, swearing under my breath. It definitely felt like I’d just gone to sleep. In fact, I was sure I had just closed my eyes. After showering, I tossed and turned in my bed going over the conversation I’d had with Scar at the club. I wanted our friendship more than anything, but I also wanted much more than both of us were willing to give. How could I balance my need for him with friendship?

  Another bang sounded, louder this time, combined with a doorbell. Who in their right mind would be visiting me at nine in the morning? I pulled my covers aside, wondering whether it was someone for Zoey. My sister had a weird group of artsy friends. She’d stopped switching men like gloves since she finished dance school, but substituted changing them like underwear. Though I had to say, I hadn’t seen her go out with anyone in quite some time. The group she hung out with were some of the heaviest partiers I’d seen in my life. She must have gotten in later than I did last night.

  I closed her door as I passed by her bedroom. We lived together at this apartment because it was cheaper, and I loved having her close to me, even if currently I was the one who paid for the rent, groceries, and utilities. After all, I owed her my life. Zoey had saved me before we left Washington. She’d used her trust fund money to pay off a debt I’d be stuck with for the rest of my life. However, the past few months, while Zoey supposedly looked for a new job, I felt like we’d grown further apart.

  Maybe I should cut back some hours at work?

  She was barely ever home, and no longer looking for a job to replace the one she’d lost over a year ago. I was afraid she was still struggling with the fact that she’d lost her position at the studio and couldn’t find anything comparable.

  Another full-fisted bang sounded.

  “I’m coming,” I growled. I pulled on my robe, cursing the visitor for making me get out of bed this early.

  “Who is it?” I asked.

  “Jules, it’s me. Open the door.”

  I wiped the crust out of my sticky eyes, double-checked through the peep hole, and pulled on the handle. When I opened the door I wished I’d at least combed my hair. Scar stood on top of the staircase, a grin of deluded happiness stretching across his face. He wore what appeared to be the same white shirt he’d had on the previous night, with the top three buttons undone and sleeves rolled up, showing off part of that sexy rose tattoo. Scar took my breath away. His disheveled hair only added extra oomph to his gorgeous look. This man was an utter mess in the most beautiful way possible.

  “Do you know what time it is? Didn’t you work last night? How did you get up so early?”

  “I never went to sleep.”

  What?

  “Thank God you’re not working. I didn’t think you would be, being a doctor and all, and since you had a late night I figured you’d be home and I’ve been waiting in my car for a couple of hours because I didn’t want to wake you too early...”

  I tuned him out and peeked back into the kitchen to double-check the time. Three minutes after nine.

  Too early?

  Coming off a night shift, this felt more like midnight to me.

  “Come in, please.”

  Scar was still blabbering something about a rough night and not concentrating and women hitting on him once again. He didn’t even pause between the sentences. His pupils were dilated, and he couldn’t shut up.

  “Would you like some coffee?” I asked. Or Prozac?

  “Please.”

  I filled in the pot and set the machine to brew. “Is everything okay? How did you know where I lived?” I didn’t recall giving him my address last night.

  “You’re listed.”

  Right.

  “I couldn’t even find the strength to go home, Jules. I’ve been thinking about you, actually about us, the entire night, and I knew that if I went home I wouldn’t be able to sleep with everything that I wanted to say to you.”

  Scar without sleep was definitely the same as Scar on ecstasy. Not that I’d ever seen him high on drugs, other than weed. Scar never touched anything else.

  “You need to slow down a bit, Scar. I have to change and have a cup of coffee before my brain begins to function. Zoey’s still sleeping so keep it down. Wait for me here?”

  “Sure.”

  I rushed upstairs, jumped in a quick shower, pulled on a pair of sweats and a tank top, tied my hair back in a ponytail, and came back down. In my kitchen, wearing my apron that said What happens in the kitchen, stays in the kitchen, Scar was flipping pancakes. A bowl of sliced mango and pineapple along with two cups of steaming coffee were set up on the side. I didn’t remember the last time anyone had prepared breakfast for me. This was a completely different man than the one I’d known. I remembered him being served breakfast at home as if he were the prince. But I guessed that was a normal thing when you had a personal butler and a mother who wanted to outshine the help every chance she got. This man appeared more independent; and seeing him slide across the kitchen floor, from the table to the sink, he was the definition of living your life to the fullest.

  What the heck happened?

  He pulled another ‘Tom Cruise from Risky Business’ slide toward me, his smile stretching wide across his face, and I couldn’t help but picture him without those pants.

  “Scar, are you sure you’re okay? Let me have a look at you.”

  The doctor in me wanted to give him a thorough examination, and maybe another toxicology report. He definitely looked as if he was on meth or something. Scar turned off the stove, removed the pan, wiped his hands, and somehow I ended up stuck between him and the kitchen counter. With his hands splayed at my sides and his entire body against mine, he robbed me of an escape. The weight of his hips on my belly and the hardness of him underneath those pants, even when not erect, sparked a need inside me. The kind of desire I had fought to erase from my life during the past year crept in each time I saw him or thought about him. My pulse raced. It only took seconds for Scar to deprive me of a sound mind.

  “Want to examine me, Doctor?” His sweet breath curved around my face. I lifted my finger to wipe the raw pancake batter off his bottom lip. He took my hand before I had a chance to lower it, sucked my thumb clean, and kissed it gently. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the touch of his lips against my skin.

  “Has something happened with your father?” I asked. Was that why he was acting so strange? From what I remembered, their relationship wasn’t anything to be proud of. Scar whistleblew some of his father’s illegal businesses by working with the FBI, but as far as I knew, they had overcome their issues. His father was forced to give it all up without having to go to jail, but still didn’t like Scar meddling in his business. As a good lawyer – actually one of the best in the city, if not the state – Mr. Wagner didn’t need to work for the rest of his life. Just managing their law firm, he would still have enough cash to fill in a football stadium, and yet that had never been enough. On top of all that was his cheating, so maybe Scar had had a setback. Perhaps they hadn’t patched things up the way I thought?

  “Scar, I know you don’t believe in relationships, and I understand how much your father’s affair hurt you. But as your friend, I can guarantee you the place I told you about could help you. Even if you don’t want to speak, just hear different sides of infidelity. Maybe
you can relate. Perhaps it could help you move on? I’ve met so many people who survived struggles. They were able to work it out. Scar, you’re the only friend who ever made me feel things I didn’t know were even possible. I... I really want to help you.”

  “Thank you.” He smiled. It seemed like my words had flown in one ear and out the other. He stood so close to me that my brain was beginning to fog up again. All it took was one look from him, and I was melting. “But I’m not ready to be fixed just yet.”

  What did he mean by that?

  “I can’t say I’m not concerned by your behavior,” I whispered. I heard a change in my voice. It was filled with lust, and if Scar didn’t back away, I was afraid I’d lose the last ounce of control I held. The same way I almost lost it last night.

  “If you think I’m high, I can guarantee you that I don’t do drugs, Jules. Not even weed anymore. I’m just... happy.”

  I recalled the familiar sweet smoke I had always remembered on him, and only noticed now that it was missing. But if he wasn’t high, then where was his dream-like state coming from?

  “Wait, you don’t smoke anymore?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t. Let the habit go a few years back.”

  Wow!

  “I prefer to concentrate on... other things.”

  Did he mean sex? Women? Jealousy pinched my chest. Had he used the euphoria of two bodies connecting as a substitute for his habit? Now I definitely felt guilty about last night. I shouldn’t have been so forward, giving him hope and encouraging him.

  “And I badly want to concentrate on you, Jules. Only you.”

  Oh my!

  “What do you mean?” I felt my stomach grumble and at the sound Scar took a step back.

  “Let’s sit down and talk over some breakfast.”

  I sat at one end of the table and reached for my coffee, but when Scar pulled up the chair from the opposite side and set it beside me, I froze.