by Lexxi Chase
She’d fallen into his arms leisurely, trustingly, remarkably focused on pleasing him, all the while giving herself freely and without inhibition. Her kisses were electrifying energy and warmth and he thought she was falling for him as much and as quickly as he was for her. Until he saw her with Jake.
Tyler’s expression soured at the memory. She’d gone to a party and didn’t return home for three days. When she finally arrived she had Jake with her, practically glued to her side. Excusing himself from her kitchen, where she was introducing Jake to Katelyn, he rushed to the tiger habitats to complete some of his training and chores. But there was no escaping the new hell he was in, or the gutting, expanding ache in the pit of his stomach. Amanda and Jake soon came outdoors.
Not content to introduce Jake to the cats through the fencing, Amanda stepped inside their enclosures one by one and called each to her so they could meet Jake up close and personal as he stood on the other side of the fence. Of course he knew who she was before he met her, had seen video clips of her shows on TV and all over the net, but Tyler saw by his expression and demeanor that he was suitably blown away. When she re-emerged from the pens he grabbed her and hugged her, lifting her off her feet. It took a hell of a lot to impress Jake and Amanda’s confidant, seemingly effortless control of her affectionate, impressive cats had done it.
As Tyler watched in agony, Amanda basked in Jake’s arms, wrapping her legs around him when he lifted her and holding him even tighter when he set her down.
“Like ‘em?” she asked, and Jake smiled and laughed.
“Fuck yeah,” he said, “but I’m even more impressed by the pussy I got me right here.”
That was almost it for Tyler but when he looked up at them again they were kissing, long and hard and deep, and his world shattered with the devastating realization she could even kiss like that and that she’d never even come close to kissing him with such intense passion, hunger and driving need. He knew instinctively that Jake was no passing fancy, no few night stand. He was here to stay and his own relationship with Amanda, so anemic in comparison, was truly over.
“Let’s just hope it’s not all over for you Amanda,” he said out loud, back to current reality on his bed. “It won’t be if I can help it,” he added resolutely, and thought of the gun packed securely in his suitcase.
Then, wracked by unsettling visions and fitful dreams, he fell reluctantly into a stormy and restless sleep.
***
Morocco leapt to his feet, a low, rumbling growl boiling in his throat. His large, round, amber eyes were blazing and alert. Slowly repositioning into a half-crouch, half-pounce, he eyed Amanda suspiciously, not used to her current erratic behavior. His mistress was usually calm, stable and focused, always confidant and consistently assured. Unable to understand her unusual actions or unfamiliar vocalizations and confused by his new bewildering feeling of insecurity, he watched, and waited.
Entrenched in her own disorienting torment, Amanda tangled her shaking hands in her hair and paced, unaware of breaking her own strict rules and guidelines for behavior around her big cats, of ignoring virtually every cat caregiver and handler’s codes of conduct that are simply human-big cat interaction 101.
Morocco nervously flicked the tip of his four-foot tail as Amanda brushed by him, carelessly treading on her cell by the foot of her bed where she’d thrown it. What the fuck Jake? Murmuring it softly under her breath, then shouting it louder.
This was a new, revolting low even for Jake, Amanda concluded. Sure, she’d known about all the women, the entire world knew about all of Jake’s sordid women, and with an icy, debilitating grip twisting her intestines, she recalled seeing Jake and his whores in action first hand in his bedroom, the vulgar, lurid event which sent her whirling back to Conroy and into Wade’s arms.
But, agonizing and humiliating as that had been, that was different. She’d walked in on them by accident. Despite his disgusting reaction to her discovery, Jake hadn’t planned for her to see. Tonight he vindictively and exactingly meant for her to experience his obscene romp, to suffer and twist in the wind as a consequence. She screamed. Morocco edged closer.
This was worse, she thought, crying, than her own much too detailed angry confession to Jake about her one night sex spree with Wade. He’d pictured it, for sure, but he didn’t have to hear it in action, live.
Isn’t that the way you like me? His arrogant, cool voice echoed in her ears. Was it, she reeled, horrified, and a fierce, gut wrenching jealousy coursed through her veins and wrapped steadfastly around her heart. She wanted him more now than ever, despite the gripping despair, despite the agony, and maybe Jake was right on the money once again. Damn him and his flawless insight. He knew her better than she knew herself.
Although the realization did nothing to end her torture, she stopped pacing and leaned forlorn and dejected against her dresser. Where the hell was her phone? She now had Jake’s number, or at least the cell number he was calling her from tonight, and she could use it.
Call him back and...what? Be treated to more of his adventures? Tell him off, like that would make a difference, or simply tell him she loved him no matter what he did to hurt her. But that hadn’t worked just a few minutes ago. He’d repaid her heartfelt pleas with a raunchy, crude live installment of tonight’s coveted encore.
She lowered her head, wiping tears from her already swollen eyes. Wade, along with her sister, would arrive tomorrow and maybe she wouldn’t feel so incredibly alone. Suddenly remembering Morocco, she raised her head to look at him and was shocked to see him so upset.
“Oh God big boy, I’m so, so sorry,” she lunged across the room.
Instantly wrapping his muscular leg protectively around her, grasping her head and neck, Morocco welcomed her affection and comfort and instantaneous change of mood.
“What the hell am I doing?” she asked him, holding his massive head in her trembling hands.
But, innocent eyes wide and trusting, he merely grunted softly, deep in his throat, and chuffed his innocuous response.
Sobbing, Amanda fell recklessly onto his shoulder and ran her hands lovingly over his thick, soft orange and black-striped fur.
“No one’s more important to me than you, than all of you,” Amanda whispered as she held him closer.
How could she have forgotten his presence? How’d she forget precaution and safety and lose her composure with her favorite, and most dangerous man, right here with her?
Minute after long minute, painstakingly, Amanda began to pull herself together. The consuming, ripping pain remained but it was reigned in, dulled by the reassurance and tactile comfort of her most trusted man, unconditional companion, once again lounging serenely on the bed beside her. She barely noticed the familiar jingle of her cell phone, the text message alert when it came in.
With the pain now a dull ache in her stomach and a mild lump in her throat, she lifted her cell, steadying herself for the catastrophic news that Jake wasn’t coming. What else would be new, she sighed. She’d agonizingly spent immensely more time without Jake than with him since their final incident and she could force herself to hack it again if she tried. She braced herself but wasn’t even minutely ready for the update she got.
Entwining her fingers in Morocco’s soft coat, she brought up the video and apprehensively hit play. Jesus, she murmured, but couldn’t force herself to look away. Jake wouldn’t win any cameraman awards for this immodest selfie but the lurid scene scorched its mark on her nonetheless.
On his knees, his stiff, hard cock in his hands, Jake leaned forward to reveal what waited to satisfy his base desires. The juicy, pink wet pussy of the girl before him was angled, ready and waiting for his unrestricted use. She was on her stomach on the bed, her butt raised and pussy poised to accept him. No faces revealed in the close up but Amanda knew Jake’s body, his hard cock so well, there was no mistaking he was starring in this drama. The intricate and impressive tattoos up his arms and right leg and thigh would have left no doubt,
even to his adoring fans.
The scene abruptly ended, and shaken, Amanda prayed he wouldn’t send another. Clutching her cell, she typed:
Did u bother tellin her she’s one of thousands?
Tossed her phone on the bed but moments later, warily read his response.
Finally clued in ur a member of that same club?
Rude fucking asshole prick. She seethed, thought a moment, then typed again.
Not by a longshot. I don’t live in her trailer park.
Your boyfriend does, he replied.
His next video upped the game.
Smiling seductively at his raised camera, God how delicious and alluring he looks, Amanda hated herself for even thinking it, feeling it, Jake skillfully lowered himself down on the bed and held his cell close as he leaned in and eagerly kissed and licked her pussy. She was still on her hands and knees. Horrified as the slut moaned deeply in appreciation, Amanda watched in horror as Jake circled his skilled tongue along her already wet and swollen lips, parting them gently, steadily working his tongue inside.
His uninhibited performance drowning her like a bog full of quicksand, Amanda fell backwards on her bed. Not like she didn’t know every nuance, each detail of what it was like to make love with Jake but she realized for the first time that somehow she’d naively believed his maneuverings, his methods, were somehow different with her.
Thinking of Wade instantly, remembering herself entwined in his arms, her lips hot and hungry for his kisses, his adept tongue and fingers massaging her pussy, and finally riding his hard cock, she realized the differences resided subtly in the touch and in the depth of feeling and emotion during intimacy. At least for her. Was she just too upset to discern any differences in Jake’s sex show?
She looked back down at his video just before it ended and morosely watched him pumping her with three fingers of his right hand.
“Like that baby?” he crooned, and Amanda leaned dismally over Morocco and cried.
This video was followed by another and another that she forced herself to watch, not even knowing why. Even as she prayed each was the last, she knew the scene that would end it all and tensed and waited for it to come. That cruel bastard wasn’t leaving anything out. He wants me to know, she thought, wants me to see I’m really nothing to him. And she’d thought before he’d already hurt her as much as he could.
She played the latest video despondently, numb with shock and jealousy but the new pain sliced into her deeply nonetheless. The bitch was still on her knees, ass in the air, as Jake rubbed his hard cock over her butt and then slowly along the wet folds of her throbbing pussy, poking it gently in and out as she moaned. He paused for just a moment and then leaned forward, thrusting himself inside her, slamming her with such force that she bounced up and down on the mattress with every pump. His moans grew louder, mingled with hers, and then suddenly he stopped, switched gears and rammed it up her ass.
Amanda gasped almost as loudly as the skank in the video. Jesus, she thought, how could I have been so stupid to think that maybe, just maybe, he reserved that special play just for her.
“What are you?” he whispered.
Her reply was inaudible through her gritted teeth.
“What are you Misty?” he rasped louder, his voice urgent and labored by his building orgasm.
“Mmmm...Jake,” she gushed, groaning between thrusts, “I’m your dirty, dirty girl.”
He grabbed the groupie’s long blonde hair, yanking her sideways to sprawl greedily on her back. She wanted more and spread her legs. Shifting his cell, he repositioned its camera to record him sensuously slithering on top of her before aiming the camera at her face. Amanda cringed at how beautiful she was, and young. At least ten years younger than her. Why am I surprised, she huffed, suddenly feeling so, so old for her 30 years, even though Jake had two years on her.
Misty smiled sweetly into the camera.
“Fucking whore!” Amanda raged, infuriated by the inescapable nightmare of actually watching another woman ecstatically screwing her man.
“Cheap ditch pig skanky cunt!” she screamed, almost breathless by the weight of immeasurable agony and grief engulfing her soul.
Its heaviness crushed against her chest. Her lungs burned and ached as she struggled to breathe, to catch her breath, as the action unfolded so openly before her. But that was nothing but a muted prelude to what came next.
Jake moved his cell closer to catch every moment and nuance of the performance. After smirking into the camera himself, he lowered his full weight on top of her and began kissing her, deep and hard and open-mouthed.
Watching with her fists clenched, tears streaming down her face, Amanda seriously thought she’d die then. Dear God, why was this happening, she sobbed. How could Jake despise her and hurt her so much? The kissing was far, far worse than any other sexual activity. It was more intimate, visceral, personal, especially when he kissed her like that.
By the time Jake sat up on his knees to fuck her, Amanda was broken, irreparably damaged and emotionally spent. She watched defeatedly as he screwed her, listened despairingly to their gasps and groans, but the kisses had already ended it for her, long before Jake filmed the money shot. And she knew that he knew it too.
When he re-angled the camera afterwards for a close-up of his satisfied, sweating face, Amanda barely saw him through her sobs and tears. Hair glistening as it caked moistly down his back, slowly dripping bangs clouding his stormy eyes, Jake smiled once again into the camera, for the last time before the screen went blank.
“Got what I need,” he rasped. “Fuck your showdown. I’m stayin’ put.”
***
“Damn her,” Katelyn muttered under her breath.
Amanda was turning this place into some sort of lawless wild west frontier and all of them were roped into her self-serving, dangerous game. Having Jake here, savoring his company and all the decadent sexual escapades that arose from it was one thing, but goading him, calling him out to the point of madness, was another. She never stopped to think, past herself, beyond her own compulsions and desires, and now everyone protecting her was forced to rally, circle the wagons and put themselves in the line of fire on her behalf.
I didn’t sign up for this shit, Katelyn moaned as she climbed the stone staircase outside the cat houses and headed back towards the house. Remembering their once close friendship and how grateful she’d been to tackle the job of Amanda’s personal assistant, she winced, fully admitting to herself for the first time that she’d done so out of desperation more than anything else. Amanda’s vibrant personal life and career were already flourishing while hers was flushing down the toilet regrettably fast.
Jesus, she wondered, was I always in Amanda’s shadow? How to Get Everything You Ever Wanted and More. She thought of the book conspicuously stored on Amanda’s shelf, suddenly realizing why she’d kept it all these years. She sure as hell didn’t need a reminder of everything she wanted in life. These things were ingrained in her psyche, blazed like festering scars deep in her soul. As far back as high school, maybe before, Katelyn brooded.
No, the book was a trophy, a testament to where she came from, a raised middle finger to everyone and every mundane thing she’d cleverly and skillfully managed to blow off, a monument to how far she’d ascended as a consequence. My own book, Katelyn stewed, is aptly long discarded, just like my meager hopes and dreams and goals. Along with Amanda’s conviction to help me attain them. We’re anything but friends anymore, Katelyn admitted. I’m even losing my privileged status within her elite entourage.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
Katelyn was startled to find Amanda in the kitchen as she entered through the patio doors. She slammed her glass angrily onto the counter before filling it with the remaining contents of a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. No water, no mix. Not even ice. She took a long, indulgent drink, swallowing hard.
“I don’t pay you to fuckin’ wander off.”
“I didn’t wander off, Ama
nda,” Katelyn struggled to remain composed. “I just went for a walk. And checked on the cats.”
“The cats?” Amanda hissed. “I have Alvirez for that. Since when do you ignore motherfuckin’ rules around here? You damn well know you’re not supposed to go anywhere near them.”
“Sorry.”
Christ, Katelyn was definitely becoming more than just an incompetent, intrusive annoyance. She’d now turned into a huge, glaring liability.
“Can I get you anything Amanda?”
“Open your eyes. I already got it.”
Yeah, Katelyn thought, and it sure looks like you need another. Amanda rarely drank more than socially, even when she was fighting with or agonizing over Jake. Katelyn had never seen her anything more than tipsy but tonight she was downright shitfaced, wasted drunk. Wonderful. Morocco was still in the house.
“Let me know if you want anything else,” Katelyn offered as Amanda stormed by.
She turned and shrieked, “What I want is someone, anyone, around me that isn’t a complete piece of shit fucked up backstabbing asshole. That too much to fuckin’ ask?!”
“No, of course not Amanda,” Katelyn assured her, adding benignly, “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“Help?!”
Katelyn flinched.
“What could you of all possible people do to help me? What have you ever done to help me with anything, ever in our lives?”
Katelyn remembered the tiny pink ball and snip of cat fur in Amanda’s office and helping bury Tiger in Amanda’s mom’s backyard. But she kept quiet.
“When have you ever had anyone or anything mean so much to you, you thought you’d die without it? When have you ever in your measly, pathetic little life had anything worth really fighting for, dying for? When have you ever really known what it’s fuckin’ like to really be alive?”