by Queen, Roxy
“She gave me a stipend. It’s common—“
“For prostitutes to work for a fee?”
The word prostitute comes out like a snarl and he takes a step back. “Audrey,” he says quietly, but I ignore him.
“I think the thing that bothers me the most is that you never told me. I guess it’s not a surprise. Where else would Dr. Markson find someone so uniquely appropriate for the job? You were so skilled in making me feel at ease.” His jaw sets, only highlighting his bruised cheek more. I’ve struck a nerve. “No wonder it was so easy for you; and God, no wonder you didn’t want me to quit. Not only would that ruin your precious experiment, but you wouldn’t get paid.”
“Stop,” he says. “Dr. Markson paid me a stipend because I had to quit my other job to work on the project.”
“You’re job of fucking women?”
“Don’t act like you weren’t using me too, Audrey. It was mutually beneficial.”
I narrow my eyes. “What does that mean? Everything I did was in your hands. You and Dr. Markson, I trusted you both.”
“For the experiment, yes; but the last week? When we’d completed the project, and you called me over and over. When we,” he swallows, choking back a word, “were together, that was out of your need, your desire to become proficient and meet your cravings. You used me; for free, I might add.”
His accusation hits like a punch, but it only makes me more furious. “Fine, we’re both users. We both suck, but what about today? What was all that bullshit at Dungeness? How dare you ask me to give up my life; my goals that you’ve been intimately involved with me reaching, while you’re fucking that slut for cash?”
We’re in each other’s space, too close, and I smell the beer on his breath. The bruises make him look like he’s been through a war. He must have the same thought because his hand moves to the scrape on my cheek. I jerk away.
“I asked you to give it up because I’m falling apart inside thinking about you with someone else,” he says. “I don’t want anyone else’s hands to touch you. I don’t want anyone else inside you. You were mine for all those weeks, only mine; and I’m not willing to let that go.”
I shake my head, unable to digest the mind-fuck he’s pulling on me.
“But I’m supposed to just let it go that you’re fucking that woman in there? How many others?” His eyes drop and I know I’ve hit the truth. “God, Graham, there’s more? Do you tell them not to sleep around too?”
“No.”
“So you want me to be yours when you’re dipping your dick into any pussy that’s willing to pay. Fuck you, Graham,” I say, throwing my hands in the air. “Too bad for you I don’t have what it takes to pay your fee. I don’t have a rich husband willing to turn a blind eye, or a bathroom sink that needs unclogging. I’m a broke grad-student with no job and a heavy dose of self-respect. And you’ve got a lot of stuff to work out; you may need Dr. Markson more than I did.”
I turn to walk away but his hand clamps around my wrist. I sigh, exhausted from this day. Exhausted from him. “What?”
“I don’t want money from you, Audrey. None of this is about money! Not with you. Never.”
“Whatever you want, the cost is too high.” I leave this time, jerking my hand away from his. He mumbles something, but I refuse to turn back to ask him to repeat himself. Not because I didn’t hear him, but because I did and it scares the shit out of me. I reach my room and lie back on my bed, tears rolling down my cheeks. Graham told me what he wanted from me. What he would take in payment for our relationship.
Love.
*
I beg Claire for something to knock me out and she happily gives me a Xanax. It does the trick; and when Dylan arrives at the inn the next morning, the world takes on a different slant. He knocks on the bedroom door and I wrap my arms around him, greeting him with a kiss as though my life depends on it.
“Wow,” he says. “That was a nice welcome.”
“I’m just glad you’re here. Did you get your work done?”
“Yeah, finished for the summer. I’ll have a couple weeks off before starting back.” His thumb grazes my cheek. “What happened?”
I tell him as steps into the room, carrying his bags. I point him to the closet and sit on the bed, explaining briefly that a guy named Graham saved me from the charging horse.
Dylan shakes his head. “Only you would get attacked by a horse.”
“Stupid right? Thank God, Graham has the reflexes of a cat.”
“Sounds like a good guy. Maybe I can meet him later.” Dylan sits next to me and the mattress dips under his weight. He moves his hand to my chin and tilts my head up for a kiss. The familiarity of his mouth steels my nerves, and I move to sit on his lap.
“I’ve missed you,” I say, between kisses. I shift, feeling that he’s hard beneath me; and instead of being scared, I feel empowered. “I want to make it all up to you. Wipe away everything from the past, start new.”
“I want that, too.”
This time I kiss him, opening my mouth and gripping his hair with my fingers. I want friction and heat. I want someone to touch me. Dylan, I say to myself, I want Dylan to touch me.
“I’m expected down the hall soon,” I tell him. He’s tugged down the straps on my tank, exposing the top of my breasts. I grind against him; making it very clear I’m not ready to leave. His shirt comes off easily and mine follows. I push him back on the bed in nothing but a pale yellow bra and thin shorts.
“You’re eager,” he says, lips quirk in amusement. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
I unclasp my bra, revealing myself to him. My back arches as he brushes a finger over my hardened nipple. “I’m not the same girl I was before.”
Dylan flips me over with such force that a flare of nerves rattles me. I push it aside because it’s irrational; it’s what Graham and I worked toward during those last meet-ups in bed. I trust Dylan, even if he’s different. He’s here by choice.
“Are you ready?” he asks; but I can’t help but compare how Graham would have checked, dipping his fingers between my legs to see if I’m wet. I was always ready for him because he’d worked me into a frenzy, way before the question needed to be asked. He knows my body better than I know it myself.
Enough about Graham.
I watch Dylan remove his pants, catching a flash of his backside. His skin has darkened already from the sun, marred only with faint streaks of red. I’ve always loved his shoulders, the broadness and now I can’t wait to put my hands on them. After the sound of tearing plastic, his rubber-covered cock greets me with a sharp jab. I inhale, bracing myself for him. “Just go slow,” I say, hating that I have to tell him; that I have to veer off whatever natural course he wants to take. He plants a kiss on my lips, and enters me faster than I like, stretching my insides with his girth.
“Good?” he asks. I use my hand to keep my legs wide. I’m more nervous than I thought, but his concern settles me.
“Yes.”
He kisses me again and we fall into an easy rhythm. I focus on his body, on making him happy. I do all the things Graham taught me, pleased when Dylan shivers from my fingers grazing across his nipples.
The sticky sweat builds between us and he’s doing everything right, better than right. Sharp teeth scrape along my collarbone. Firm hands clench against my hips. Dylan’s thrusts slam into me, rattling my teeth; and I keep waiting for the anxiety, the internal block, but it never comes. He palms one of my breasts and squeezes tight, his hips moving with a speed and intensity that I’m unaccustomed to, and my body likes it. No. Loves it.
“Oh,” I sputter, unable to create thought. My hands clench around his backside holding tight. All of this creates a friction that causes my pussy to ache as my body builds toward release. The knot in the back of Dylan’s jaw tenses, as his breathing turns strained. I’ve seen him come before, worked over by my hands or mouth, but this is the first time I’ve hungered for him in return. I lie back and take the pounding, tits bounc
ing, euphoric that my body is working for me instead of fighting against me. I catch a flash of his eyes, the kind, brown ones I’ve known for so long, searching for the electricity that comes with such passion. He blinks back and that’s when it hits.
This is not what I want.
Who I want.
My mind fractures at the same time as my body, the orgasm engulfing me. When my breath catches, the air caught deep in my throat, I feel like I’m going to drown.
It’s not until Dylan’s hips stop moving, and he’s lying on me with a weight I feel unable to bear, that my brain starts to function and I see the purplish markings on his throat. They’re not fresh.
“Turn around,” I say, and he frowns, but he twists his body until his back is visible. I didn’t notice before because I was in such a hurry. Faded red lines mark his back. The hickey glares at me from his collarbone. I’m such a dumbass.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” I ask, fumbling for the blanket to cover myself.
“Wait, it’s not what you think” he says, grabbing for me.
“You’ve been fucking around.”
“She’s not important, just an undergrad looking for a good time. Waiting for you was killing me.”
“Killing you?” I clench the blanket tighter. “Do you even know what I went through to fix myself for you?”
“Whatever it was, it worked,” he says with a small smile. God, what is wrong with him? Who is this man? “I knew it would be worth waiting for you to come around; and don’t tell me, you haven’t been fooling around too. I don’t know what you did, but you didn’t learn that on YouTube.”
God, he’s right. He’s so right; but that doesn’t make him not wrong. “So what were your plans after this? Did you just want to pop my cherry and run?”
“No,” he says, bending his legs and resting his elbows across the top of his knees. I can see his cock, pink and flaccid, resting between his legs and I feel a sense of rage. “I was never going to marry a girl I’d never fucked before. I just thought you needed some finesse.” He sighs and rubs his head. “I like you Audrey, a lot. And what we had together was good, I thought it was the right thing for me too, but I had no idea if you were really going to get past your anxiety. And that was a deal breaker for me.” He shifts closer, but I’m not having it. Not now. “We can still give this a shot, I meant that all along.”
I take a deep breath, and say, “I think you need to leave.”
“The next ferry isn’t until this afternoon, where am I going to go? Come on; let’s work through this. You’ve got to admit that was pretty amazing.” He bats his eyes and I almost, for a second, fall for it.
“I trusted you Dylan; and it’s not fair for me to get pissed because, no, I did not learn all that on YouTube.” I think back to the days outside of the therapy program, the other sex Graham and I had to prepare me. That wasn’t preparation. That was fucking, plain and simple. “I haven’t been entirely faithful either, even though my motives were clear. Or at least, I thought they were.”
“I’m not mad that you slept with someone else.”
I stand, taking the comforter with me to cover my body. “Yeah, but I am mad that you did. See? That’s shitty and immature of me. I’m not in the right place to be thinking about all this. I really think you should go.”
Reluctantly, he gathers his clothes, tugging on his flannel shirt even though its ninety degrees outside. Passing me on the way out the door he says, “I can still stay. We can spend the weekend screwing and doing all that fun wedding stuff.”
“I wish I could.” His eyes cloud and I can tell he’s not happy about being dismissed. I can’t really blame him, but he has to go.
I open the door; and Reese and her husband, Alex, are staring at Dylan and me from the hallway. Their jaws drop, and Alex’s eyes are firmly glued to my chest. I look down and cover myself quickly with the comforter. “Hey guys,” I say, before stepping back inside and hiding behind the door.
Only seconds pass before Reese is banging and calling my name. She won’t go away; so with my blanket wrapped back around my torso, I reopen the door and prepare to tell my best friend what a clusterfuck my life has become.
Chapter 38
(Graham)
The suit and tie don’t make me feel out of place or the makeshift aisle, made up of chairs and pale yellow ribbons. They feel like bars, trapping me in my seat. It’s the fact Audrey’s words hit home. I’m not much better than a whore, and the preacher at the end of the aisle makes me uncomfortable. I have no idea how Audrey found out, but I’m assuming if she knows, others do, too.
Last night, I tried to play sick from the fall earlier that day, but Margaret wanted what she paid for. How could I argue? The word whore rattled in my brain as I licked her pussy with a throbbing headache. I went to sleep hard, unwilling to let her touch me in return. My thoughts were consumed by pale skin and red hair.
Just like now.
Audrey’s bare feet are the first thing I notice when the violinist begins playing. Then her legs, breasts and exposed shoulders, wrapped in a yellow sundress. Her face is framed by flaming red hair, glinting in the harsh afternoon sun. She passes my row, eyes forward, a smile plastered on her face. A tense line crosses her nose.
Something’s wrong.
The wedding goes off without a hitch, the bride and groom reciting vows I barely notice. My eyes are glued to Audrey, who not once, glances in the direction of the audience.
“Everyone looks lovely, even if the dresses are a little much,” Margaret says, unable to conceal the hint of jealousy in her tone. She primped for an hour, squeezing into a tight white dress and a wide brimmed hat. She looks amazing, like always, but her neediness this weekend is wearing me out. “Your friend, Audrey, is a beautiful girl.”
“Her boyfriend should be here somewhere,” I say, feigning indifference and moving away from that landmine. The truth is I want to see him for myself. See who’s getting this girl. Who is the lucky bastard that will sleep in her bed, feel her soft skin and tight pussy, tonight and every night forward?
I hit the bar heavy at the reception while Margaret is distracted by cameras and socializing. It’s crowded; mostly men and I narrow my eyes at someone familiar. “Have we met?” I ask, trying to place his face.
“I don’t think so,” he says, but gestures to my bruise. “But I think I know who you are anyway. I’m Dylan, Audrey’s boyfriend. She told me about the horse accident.”
“Oh, right.” I offer my hand. “Maybe I’ve seen you on campus.” The nagging feeling won’t let go. “Or in town?”
“It’s possible. So how did you end up down here? Do you know Jessica?”
“No, not directly. I’m escorting a friend.” Margaret chooses that moment to wave across the reception, as if she has me bugged.
“Damn. Caught a cougar, eh?” I sip my beer instead of reply; but he continues, anyway. “I should try for older some time; I tend to have a weakness for younger girls. I like the challenge, but I bet experience trumps all that.”
“Audrey can’t be much younger than you,” I point out and that’s when it hits me. This is the guy I saw with Cory at the bar. Her douchey boyfriend.
Shit.
“No, but Audrey’s different. She’s a little naïve.” He winks and I restrain myself from punching him on the spot. I seethe while he orders a second drink, whiskey straight and try to figure if I’m wrong. Obviously I’m wrong.
I’m about to ask him about Cory when a commotion at the door catches our attention and we turn.
The bridesmaids enter the reception tent all at once, a burst of yellow sunlight. Audrey scans the room, searching, I suppose for Dylan. I notice the furrow of her eyebrows when she sees us together.
“So you’ve met,” she says, a harsh glare in her eyes. I know she’s pissed about last night, hurt even, but something’s off. She snatches a glass of wine from a passing waiter and downs it in one swallow. Then, in low voice, she says to Dylan, “I thought I asked
you to leave.”
“I told you, the ferry doesn’t leave for another hour. I figured I’d cash in on some free drinks while I’m still here.”
“Dylan, we talked about this,” she eyes his drink. “I know you’re hurt—“
“Is everything okay?” I ask, knowing that, no, not everything is okay. Something has gone drastically wrong. Does she know?
Her eyes flick in my direction and it’s pretty fucking clear. She knows.
“It’s really none of your business, Graham. I’ve got to go do a bridesmaid thing,” she says. “I’m sorry about what happened; but really, you being here is only going to cause more problems than I can deal with right now. If you care about me, you’ll go.” She turns away; and without making my own excuse I double around, catching up with her near the porch.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “And don’t tell me nothing, you’re wound up tighter than an alarm clock. What happened with Dylan?” She laughs, clapping a hand over her mouth, but I also notice the glassy tears in her eyes. “ What? Audrey, what the hell?”
“I had sex with Dylan,” she blurts, glancing around to see if anyone heard.
The news hits me like a ton of bricks, unexpectedly and squarely in the chest. “Already?”
“Yes, this morning.”
I don’t want to know; but I can’t help myself, so I ask, “And?”
“And it was good. Like, holy shit, Graham. You’ve been holding out on me.”
“Oh.” I fight back the bitterness in my throat. I had one thing to bring to the table, or so I thought, and apparently, it’s not good enough. “If all that happened then why is he leaving?”
Tears spring forth again. In a quiet voice she says, “He’s been cheating on me this whole time; well, at least since Valentine’s Day.”
It may be the concussion, but my vision turns white. The bitterness from a moment before turns into an intense rage that boils under my skin. I clench my fists. “Are you kidding me?”
“Would I joke about that? The worst part is that I’ve been cheating on him, too.”