Griffith all but shouted. “I’ll find Brian, boyo.”
I turned, the last of my buzz soured. Kalen snaked an arm around my waist. “I warned you,” he said. “You’re lucky he didn’t kiss you.”
“You’re like a dog trying to mark your territory. You don’t want me. You just don’t want anyone to have me,” I sneered.
“That’s where you’re wrong.” He spoke in my ear. “I want you gone from my thoughts. But you just keep showing up.”
“Let me go and I’ll leave your sight.”
“Not until I have my fill.” He kissed me like he planned to screw me right here on the dance floor.
“You can’t have it both ways.” I protested pulling back.
With eyes that spoke of all the wicked promises he could fulfill, he weaved us through the crowd with a death grip on my arm. We entered a room labeled VIP. He didn’t stop there. He pulled us through another door off to the side.
“Should be familiar,” he said without raising his voice. I easily heard him because the music was just background noise in that space.
My hand rose, poised to slap him as he made the crude link to our first time together in a hotel bathroom stall. He clucked his tongue and shook his head. Obediently, I lowered my hand.
“Just tell me to stop,” he said, crowding me at the granite top of the vanity. It filled one end of the tiny restroom. My butt stopped at the edge. Smoothly he lifted me to sit atop the thing. With practiced hands, he spread my thighs apart as he wedged himself between them.
I said nothing, lost in the remembrance of the feel of him. I began to irrationally reason internally that this might be the last time I’d ever have him. He ripped holes in my lace boy shorts until it was useless as underwear. He freed himself and probed my entrance.
“Always wet for me, aren’t you Lass?”
“Fuck you,” I said with all the boldness I could muster. Yet, I hadn’t told him to stop or shoved him away.
“I will.” And he filled me like no other. My head dropped back to thump against the mirror behind me. I enjoyed the delicate balance of pleasure and pain that only came with Kalen’s girth.
“Mine,” he growled at my ear and bit my lobe before grazing his teeth down the line of my throat.
My breathing quickened as he masterfully thrust into me to the rhythm of the music playing. I was left empty in the space of a second. He spun me around and bent me forward. I nearly smeared lipstick on the glass that was too close for comfort. Before I could ask, he pushed into me again. Not expecting it, I did end up creating a messing lip print on the mirror.
His answer was to grab my hair and tug my head back almost to the point of pain. He pushed my shoulders down at the same time, my breasts filling in the tiny sink bowl. “That’s it, Lass. Watch me fuck you.” The man had tentacles not arms because touched me everywhere. He freed one of my breasts and pinched my nipple hard.
This was a far cry from our tryst yesterday. There was no tenderness to his punishing strokes. There was a jolt of pain with every thrust as he tapped the end of me. I couldn’t process, the pleasure from the pain. It was intense, especially when he left my bra to rub against the bottom of my sensitive nipple from his continued assaults on my senses.
“If you wanted to be fucked, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to rub up against some bawbag who wouldn’t know a clit from a g-spot.”
To illustrate, his next stroke made my bundle of nerves bang against the lip of the counter. “That Lass, is your clit.” In the mirror, I watched him roll his hips as I squeaked from the extreme feeling. “And that Lass, is your g-spot.” The man was a sex god. I was ready to bow down and kneel at his feet.
“If you need a fuck buddy, I can handle the job. That, however, is all I can offer you.”
Before I could feel the sting of shame from his words, he managed to hit both pleasure spots internally and externally at the same time while he jack hammered in and out of me. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk out on my own when he was finished.
He leaned down, continuing to pump while he whispered in my ear. “I’m the only one that knows just how you like it.” He kissed and sucked at the tender flesh of my neck before he rose up again. I didn’t think I could take anymore sensations with his hand still fisting in my hair, forcing me to watch myself get fucked from behind.
“You’re ready, aren’t you,” he said in a guttural voice. He was getting close. Just like he knew me, I knew him as well.
In the mirror, I caught sight of a lost clown who got stuck in a downpour. It sucked that it was my own reflection. My makeup was smeared. A path of mascara that defied its waterproof name tracked with the tears I didn’t know had fallen. My lipstick was a one way line from my lips almost to my right ear. I certainly didn’t look sexy, yet the orgasm that was ready to blow said I felt otherwise.
“I can feel your cunt tightening around me. Come for me.”
I nodded, wanting that explosion below despite the state I was in. I swallowed a scream that I held in my throat, wanting to hold on to some dignity. Proving me wrong, he bucked against my g-spot and the screech I tried to hold in, released. With my head still jerked back, I saw the smug expression on his face. I closed my eyes and rode out the pleasure.
When he finally pulled out, having achieved his own release, I stumbled forward after he let go of my hair. Weak from pleasure and still inebriated, I managed to turn without falling. I had a strong need to slap him. My arms flailed around in an attempt to make contact. “Bastard,” I cursed.
“Some call me that.” Faster and more in control, he avoided my lame attempts to hit him. Instead, he laughed at me. “You should clean that up,” he said while tucking himself back in his pants.
Pointedly his eyes first took in the state of my face. Then, I followed his gaze to the wetness I felt begin to drip from my center. My eyes burned and not with tears. Rage. His chuckles were the last think I heard as he let himself out of the bathroom. That was further evidence this was different than the night before. Then he’d taken the time to tenderly straighten my clothes. Today, not so much.
I finally understood the meaning of a word. I had been thoroughly and uttered fucked.
Turning in the mirror, I stood in horror. I’d seen my destroyed makeup. I expected my dress to be bunched around my waist. I’d spied his come dripping down my leg before realizing he hadn’t used a condom. But what pissed me off, was that the fucker had marked me. Like a freaking teenager, I had a hickey on my neck.
Furious, I squirted liquid soap on my hands and mixed it with warm water. I washed my face in what was probably a no-no by every dermatologist ever. I scrubbed hard as I not only tried to wash away the make-up but also my broken feelings.
Maybe I deserved this? I’d hurt him by sleeping with Turner. Did I really expect him to forgive and forget? Did I really expect him to understand that I’d made a mistake? He was a proud guy and according to his mother had been through a lot. Hadn’t everyone including himself told me he loved me? And what did I do? I spat on his love and gave mine to another man. And instead of having one of them, I had neither.
I took copious amount of time to clean myself up. Brian deserved better than finding out his date screwed his potential business partner in the VIP bathroom. I used a half a roll of toilet paper to clean myself below the waist before I tackled the upper half. I managed to get most of the epically failed smear and waterproof mascara off despite my continued tears. Only small smudges remained just beneath my eyelashes. I used fresh eyeliner and hoped that in the darkened club, no one would see the evidence of my shame. I tried to cover up the hickey as best I could. Finally, I straightened my clothes to stare at myself in the mirror.
He’d made his point. I’d played with fire and lost. Chin up I decided I would walk out of that room with my head held high. I’d leave tomorrow to go back to DC and never return, at least not to see him. His offer of a fuck buddy, joke or not, would never work. I loved him too much for that.
<
br /> When I finally left the tiny room, I had to get out of the club and as far away from the man that held my heart as possible. Before I could achieve those ends, Brian found me in the hall just outside the VIP room.
“There you are,” he beamed. Little did he know the trust on his face was misplaced. There was a slut in his midst.
“I had to use the ladies’ room.” It was true in ways. “I think I’m going to call it a night.” I managed not to sniffle, but my words still slurred some. I shifted my gaze from his, unable to meet his eye.
“I’ll get the others,” he offered.
“No.” I shook my head almost violently. “Everyone is having a good time. You should stay.”
“Nah, it won’t be the same without you.” He was so wrong about that.
He slung an arm over my shoulder. I felt like such a shit. Even though he wasn’t my boyfriend didn’t justify how I’d used him and where I’d ended up.
“No, I insist,” I pleaded.
“I’ll get us a cab.” He tried to take my hand. I played dumb like I thought he was gesturing me forward. Kalen had proved himself true to his word that night. Brian didn’t deserve his wrath if Kalen caught him touching me. I briefly wondered how Turner survived the experience.
Thankfully, we made it outside without running into anyone in our party, especially Kalen, along the way. We were lucky and didn’t have to wait a terribly long time to hail a cab. Brian, being the good guy Kalen wasn’t, insisted on sharing a cab with me.
On the ride to my place, Brian didn’t let the silence fester. “So… how long have you and Kalen been together or not together?” he asked astutely.
“That obvious?” I said, tired of lying.
He shrugged. “You both did an excellent job of trying to convince me otherwise at his office.” There was a pause. “Was your acceptance tonight an attempt to make him jealous?”
It was my time to sigh. “Yes and no, and not really.” His eyebrows rose. He deserved an explanation. “Kalen and I aren’t together. We weren’t together in Scotland. Things ended before then.”
He nodded and waited for me to continue. “He was trying to keep me out of the media when he took me to Scotland. You know the whole scandal.” I used wide gestures with my hands to show the enormity of the situation.
Cutting to the chase, he asked, “So who broke things off?” He was trying to fit the final pieces together.
“Me… I guess. And since then, we’ve only managed to try and hurt each other. It’s stupid. Tit for tat,” I said. “And I like you… I do. I had every intention of having a good time with you tonight. I’m sorry it’s turned out to be a mess.”
“It was entertaining. Honestly, I think it would have been boring without you. I would have left a lot sooner had you not come. My only regret is I didn’t get to dance with you.”
The cab stopped in front of my building. “Rain check,” I offered, knowing he wouldn’t refuse but at the same time never take me up on it.
“Sure,” he said. I reached in my purse to pay the cabbie my portion of the trip. “No, I got it. I’ll see you around Bailey.”
He hadn’t tried to kiss me and I knew that was the nicest kiss-off ever, all things considered. I stepped out of the cab and saw Kalen standing outside my door. I stopped dead in my tracks.
Thirty-One
What the fuck was I doing here? It wasn’t the first time I’d asked myself that. Sure, I’d given the security team the night off because she was supposed to be with me under my watchful eye. But I could cancel that directive.
Was I jealous? Maybe, considering I was there like a dog in heat to mark my territory. Why did I need to be? I’d screwed her like a porn star in the fucking VIP bathroom. It would be a long time before she forgot me. Hell, I’d spilled my seed in her. Why not let Brian have my sloppy seconds? Cause you could have gotten her pregnant.
I paced while I rubbed at my aching temples at that thought. What the fuck had I been thinking? Wasn’t that the point? I hadn’t. I’d gone over the edge when I saw her shake her ass all over that bawbag. I’d taken care of the little shite with efficiency. Then, without thought, I’d given her what she’d wanted, what I needed. My mind lost in her, I hadn’t taken the time to protect us both from that possibility.
I let out a sigh. It was time to cut all ties. Love wasn’t going to get the best of me. I needed to move on. Women weren’t in short supply. Hell, Kinsey had figured out Bailey and I had a thing, yet she’d offered to go home with me. It had been priceless to see the look on her face when I turned her down. Women.
Had I really offered to be Bailey’s fuck buddy? That was never going to happen. You couldn’t just fuck the girl you loved. The best thing we could do for each other was to steer clear of one another. The proof of that was in the irrational urge I had to drive to Brian’s hotel room and annihilate them both if she was there.
I pulled out my phone, ready to dial my security team, when a cab pulled up to the curb. Bailey. I drank in the sight of her. Life contorted into slow motion as I waited, wondering would she dare to kiss him goodnight. Part of me wanted her to so I could punish her again up in the apartment. My cock twitched at the prospect.
Without folly, she stepped onto the curb. The taxi took off, presumably headed to Brian’s hotel. Rage pushed her forward. The light that normally filled her face was all but gone. When our eyes locked it was like there was equity in the world. I wanted to deny that she was the oasis in my heart, but that would be a lie.
It helped that she held a homicidal glare on me. That put a little perspective on things. Our opportunity for togetherness had died when she’d chosen to sleep with Turner. If I wasn’t so fucked up over it, I could admit I understood her choices. Hadn’t I come to that conclusion at Keely’s place?
All possibilities fled as she glided to me like a lioness ready to pounce. I’d take my licks, then walk away and never look back.
“You bastard,” she shouted just as a harsh sting landed across my cheek.
“I deserve that.”
“Why are you here?” she cried. Tears burst forth and they weren’t conjured to pull at my sympathy. Yet I fell prey to them.
“Don’t cry,” I commanded softly. My thumb snuck out and brushed the wetness away from the right side of her face.
She shook before she swayed in anger. Her next words never came. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she began to fall. I stepped forward and caught her in time. Fear coiled around my heart like a well-tied knot. The doorman helped my decision on what to do when he gave way to a direct path to the elevator and up to Lizzy’s apartment.
Cradled to my chest, Bailey was unresponsive. I almost turned around to head for my car I’d parked in the garage earlier to take her to the emergency room. I opened the door to her apartment with a key I managed to wrangle out of her purse with my free hand. She was breathing. The rising and falling of her chest was why I keyed in the annoying yet important security code.
My phone buzzed. I ignored it while I set Bailey down on the couch. I felt her head, not sure what I was seeking. My brain had short-circuited and I acted on instinct. I propped her head up and turned her to face one side. I retrieved a blanket from her old room to cover her with.
I pulled out my phone to make a call when it rang in my hand. Confused, I stared at it a second longer when a knock came at the door. It all made sense when the knock and the phone rang at the same time.
As another firm knock came at the door, I opened it and answered the phone at the same time. “She fine. I’m going to call a doctor now.” I told both the guy at my door and the one on the phone.
The guy at the door waited, while a voice on the phone said, “Sure thing, boss. When you didn’t answer your phone after I saw you on the security cam, I sent someone over to help.”
The security team was turning out to be a godsend. I was starting to believe I’d gotten a bargain with the price I’d paid for the company. Once the team set up surveillance for Lizzy and Viol
et, they’d rented an apartment in the adjacent building so that they would be close if needed. Also, it helped in the rotation. Additionally, it was far more economical than paying for hotel rooms for the indeterminate future.
Once I hung up and the guard was stationed outside, I kneeled in front of Bailey and stroked my knuckles down her cheek. She looked so vulnerable and innocent. It was hard to deny my feelings for the Lass when my heart thundered at the prospect of losing her. Was it possible for me to get past what happened between her and Turner? It wasn’t like I’d see the guy every day to be reminded.
“Bailey,” I said gently. She didn’t stir. I selected a contact on my phone.
Although my personal physician wasn’t at my beck and call, he did make home appointments. He’d been my father’s physician and thus I somewhat inherited him, or at least access to him. I’d had few occasions to need his services, but I’d spoken to him enough to feel comfortable to make this call.
I breathed when the other side of the line was picked up and the doctor announced himself by his name and title.
“Yes, this is Jeremey Glenn,” I said, feeling the weirdness every time I used that name. It was my birth name. However, the only time I went by it was when I was in the states or dealing with father’s companies, mine now.
“Yes Jeremey, how can I be of assistance?” It was late, however he sounded pleasant enough. I’d never abused his service of direct calling him so that might be why he didn’t seem agitated by my late call.
How to explain the situation? If I said friend or a woman, would he help? She wasn’t his patient. Should I use the term girlfriend?
“My fiancé has passed out,” I said. It was the highest title I could use without things getting complicated in the future when I had more dealings with doc.
“I see,” he said patiently. “Is she breathing?”
I wanted to rage that I wasn’t an idiot. If she wasn’t breathing, I would have called the U.S. emergency number 911. Which was a absurd number in the first place. In Scotland, you dialed 999, which is infinitely easier.
Equity (Balance Sheet #3) Page 14