“I’ll see you later today. Mr. Welsh, it’ll be lovely if you join us also,” she invites Dad who gives her a fake smile, and he leaves with Rachel Knight after waving at us.
“I don’t like this.” I search for the bell inside the drawer where he threw it earlier.
“Put the bell back and leave, I need alone time—me time.”
My gaze goes back to the door before I speak again.
“Dad – I mean my father is angry and sad, did you notice?” Dad’s slumped shoulders and silent presence gave him away, worse; he didn’t talk to me.
“‘We took our time making the right decision for both of us and we’re happy about it.’ We were drunk and you misread the chapel information…” the laughter overtakes my anger and Mitch joins in.
Our drunken night cost him about fifty thousand dollars because he asked for the best package and now we don’t even remember it.
“I’m ambivalent about this entire ordeal,” I confess, sobering from the laughter we just shared. “I bet someday we’ll look back and laugh about it.”
“We laugh every time we talk about it,” he says as he tries to compose himself, but the smirk remains intact. “I’m an idiot. Hey, for their entertainment, we can repeat the wedding.”
“It wouldn’t be magical,” I head back to my working table and try not to imagine my magical wedding. My shoulders droop as I complain about my future. “I’m going to end up alone, loveless and babysitting Paige’s children.”
He nudges me. “Come on, what will make it magical?” He bats his eyes, links his hands together and tries to change his rough voice to a soft feminine one. “Doves being released while you say I do? Some pop singer composing the soundtrack of the wedding. No wait, you’d rather have the Smashing Pumpkins doing so.”
Yes?
I push his chest with my hand, obviously failing to move his rock-hard body. No, hard rock; you don’t want to rock hard that body hard, Hayley?
“Being in love, you jerk.”
“Hayley, you don’t want to fall in love.” He takes a sharp breath. “That’ll make you do stupid, irrational things and lose yourself for something that more often than not is self-destructive.”
“That Chloe person did a number on you, didn’t she?” Poor guy, for the first time I feel sorry for him. “Why don’t you look for her, try to fix things and see if the two of you are meant for each other? Or let it go. No wait, it was Jordan… one of them really broke you.”
Chapter 16
Mitch
Chloe Anderson was the first and only girl I fell in love with and she proved that being in love made you—or at least me—a stupid person. To top it all off, she was a prostitute as in her occupation. How could I have failed to see it when we dated? I was blind; she was the one with the experience, not me. I lost my virginity at sixteen, had sex with another girl after that, and that sums up all my experience up until I met Chloe. The girl provided me with a lot of sex, yes, also tons of dramatic outbursts. “Nobody loves me, I’m a fucked up mess.” and… I always tried to convince her that she was worth loving.
Though I considered her my girlfriend, Chloe hated titles and hated me when I called her my girlfriend.
“Don’t objectify me, I’m free.” Free to fuck whomever and whenever she wanted—at the right price, but I didn’t learn that until after that our so-called relationship ended. Free to forget we were exclusive and free to dump me for a man who’d give her what I didn’t… money.
A couple of years later we crossed paths again. She then lived with her high school sweetheart and coincidentally Liam’s employee—one we deduced had a drug problem. By then my brother, Jake, who recovered from his injuries, saw Liam’s employee as his pet project.
“I followed her today,” Jake arrived at my apartment one night. “All day long, then interviewed the men she spent a few hours with.”
“Who are we talking about?” I asked Jake, wondering if he was starting to lose his sanity. The fucked up accident had an impact on his head too and so far, nothing had changed. Only his dark mood.
“Chloe Anderson, the girl Gavin Clement is dating. Liam likes the guy, but he’s snorting cocaine during business hours.”
“Well, perhaps he’s passing his addiction on to that girl.” I suggested because Chloe wasn’t a drug addict.
“That’s what I thought at first,” Jake explained, leaning his cane on the wall and taking a seat on the couch. “Then as I watched them closely, I realized she’s the one with the contacts.”
“Contacts?” I crossed my arms now worrying about my brother and deciding if I should call Mom.
“Yes, drug dealers.” He pulled some notes and read the names and numbers. “She works for an exclusive escort company. She’s worked there since the age of eighteen, and she’s into some pretty hard core stuff, Mitch.”
“Escort, hard core?” My mouth opened wide. “As in prostitute?”
“She’s a whore and about to get the boot because she’s consuming drugs with her clients. I learned that little tidbit from her employer. But here is the interesting thing.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “Some of the dealers have supplied her since she became an escort.”
“I thought she said that she’s a teacher, Jake, are you sure about this?”
“Yeah, she did two years of college. Flunked the second one and dropped out to become a full time escort.” He used his fingers to draw quotation marks. “Gavin might not know that he’s dating a crack whore.”
Great, I thought. I dated a crack whore.
Yes, I dated a fucking prostitute. My almost nineteen-year-old self thought she ruled my world… She did, until she didn’t, and I faced reality. A reality of not wanting to feel foolish again, give my time and care for a woman who in the end would fuck me, and not in a sexual way. Why am I even thinking about her? Oh yes, Hayley’s suggestion that I talk to Chloe and fix things. Why can’t she get that I want a simple life without the complications of being attached to another person? Plus, Chloe Anderson died two years ago.
A few years later it was Jordan, deep blue eyes, dark hair and a great body with an awesome set of D’s—I know because I paid for them. All was going great; she loved to attend social events together and mingle with my mother and her friends when my parents were in town. It was that one time when I went to London to visit my parents that it all went south.
I missed Jordan; I wasn’t ready to take her to my parents’ home. I wondered if it was time to take the next step after being together for almost a year and almost living together… propose, at least move-in together. Perhaps buy a bigger apartment. I had everything planned out in my head, so I decided to head home earlier, as a surprise.
When I opened the door to her apartment, I noticed a reasonable amount of lit candles around the living room. I wondered if my mother spoiled the surprise—that I was leaving early. Making myself comfortable, I took off my jacket and headed to the bedroom, following a trail of clothes. My first clue that something was wrong came in the form of a pair of male loafers, the second – a pair of jeans under Jordan’s leggings. To conclude my scientific experiment that my girlfriend was, in fact, fucking another guy, I entered the room and found her sucking his dick while he pulled her hair with both hands, both of them moaning.
“Suck it, bitch,” he said. “Go deeper or I won’t let you come.”
“Jordan.” I shouted. “What the hell is this?”
Jordan released his dick and turned around with a thief caught with the money in hand kind of look.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” she rose up. “This isn’t working for me, us, you’re not what I need.”
“What do you need?” I wanted to fix it, to give her that thing she wanted.
“A different life,” she walked to the closet, pulled her silky robe and as if talking about a business transaction, continued with her explanation. “Follow me to the living room. Serggio, I’ll be back in a jiff.”
“Serggio?” I
asked because she has mentioned that name several times in the past month or so, all of those times followed by we had a business meeting. “You have been fucking him for a long time, haven’t you?”
“Occasionally, Mitch.” She tried to touch my arm but I pushed her. “He’s a successful businessman, his clothing line is making a statement worldwide and he’ll offer me what I need. Financial stability, I won’t have to work for the rest of my life or smell food like when you come home from work. It’s not like your parents are going to die soon and leave you some of the little money they have.”
“You’re nothing but a fucking whore,” I yelled at her. “Selling that body of yours for the highest bidder. Well, let me tell you that you may have sold yourself to the highest but not the one with the most resources. Burn in hell, Jordan.”
I never told my family why we broke up, only that our lives were going in two different directions. Mom occasionally sees her when she’s in town, during some social event or other function. Twice she has tried to crawl and plead me to take her back, same amount of times I had said: “Go to hell, bitch.”
Chapter 17
Mitch
Talk about opposites. Now years later, the woman I’m forced to deal with has a smart-mouth, doesn’t care about money and has zero sexual experience and on top of all that she doesn’t plan to have sex with me—ever. After his honeymoon is over, I’ll ask Jake to shoot me with one of his guns for being stupid and not knowing how to read when I’m loaded with alcohol.
The bathroom handle moves and I look up from my computer where I’ve been answering some of my emails from work. As Hayley walks into the room, she gives me that knife-stabbing look; I feel all warm inside overflowing with so much love.
“Living in a studio apartment is uncomfortable when you have a roommate.” Hayley’s already dressed in a pair of shorts and a purple sleeveless shirt. “I hate having to dress inside the bathroom after a shower.”
“I won’t complain if you dress out here, Muffin.”
“Can you tell your parents I have a headache?” She ignores my comment and sighs after asking that ridiculous question. When I give her a second glance, I realize she looks like a sixteen-year-old. “Jet lag, that’s a perfect explanation after being in Vegas for three days.”
“They travel often, Muffet.” She growls at my use of her nickname. “We know all the remedies to cure jet lag and Mom has this magical herbal pill for that. Believe me she will come and make you take it. By the way, they may or may not surprise us with a wedding gift. Try to be nice about it.”
“My nice attitude will depend on the price tag.” She brushes her hair, pulls it back and then puts on a black hat adorned by a purple flower. “Under fifty bucks, I’ll hug them and write them a thank you note; higher will get a growl, not a thank you note. We need to stop this wrecking ball, Mitch. We made a mistake let’s come clean and move on.”
“With that attitude Jake’s going to catch us. My twin is a human lying detector… a former spy and a person with too much time on his hands.” I run a hand through my hair and feel the grainy flour Hayley sprinkled on me earlier after I hid in the walking refrigerator and scared her. “He reads me too well—we have that freaky twin connection. If I have to become Emma’s slave, you’ll be my slave.”
Hayley plunks herself onto the floor close to the wall and elevates her legs.
“This is such a mess. I have a mother who thinks she hit the jackpot, an upset father, a pretty pissed brother… well brothers and one bitchy sister who will come back to raise hell after her honeymoon.” She gives me a head to toe glance. “You’re a better catch than Kevin. If you haven’t noticed, my family isn’t easy, Mitch and I’m trying to think of how to make them happy after what I did.”
Happy? She needs to stop trying to make everyone happy. After two weeks around her, I want to explain that her family are a bunch of bitter people who won’t see her for who she is. That no matter what she does, they’ll never give her whatever it is she wants from them.
“To top it all off, I can’t have alone time to decompress because you’re breathing down my neck at all times.” She squeezes her eyes. “Again, I’m not going to your brother’s wedding.”
“Yes you are. We need to convince Emma that she didn’t win. Then we’ll get a divorce.”
“A what?” She screeches.
“A divorce.” She repeats, sighs and closes her eyes while touching some beads in her left hand. “I’m going to be the youngest divorcee in history who is still a virgin.”
“As your husband and as a special service for your support,” I bend closer to her ear. “I can take care of that little detail… your virginity.”
I really wouldn’t mind with that nice curvy body, the set of C’s I’d like to fill my hands with, and those round hips that will work great against the door—Stop, I order myself. Shit, I think I’m attracted to my future ex-wife.
“This is me imagining that you didn’t just say that,” her entire face tenses and she’s fidgeting with her lower lip.
“We can imagine other more pressing things, like me pressing you into that—”
“Stop.” She points with her finger towards the wall, and still those eyes are shut. In fact, she’s squeezing them tighter. Mmm tight.
“I’m going to take a shower. In the meantime, can you dress less like a little girl, muffin?” Hayley grits her teeth and gives me a quick glare before shutting her green eyes again. “You look too young. I want them to take you seriously.”
“This is me, my favorite pain in the ass.”
“Mr. Muffin Man to you,” I begin to undress. “They know I wouldn’t date someone so simple.”
“You’re not dating me,” she snickers. Her eyes remain closed. “You married me. I’m the marry-forever kind according to Dad and Mel. I guess that was their way to assure me I’m not ugly, boring and weird. I honestly don’t believe them. However, if they are right, your family will understand. Did they like your ex’s?”
“No one knows I dated Chloe and you need to keep that quiet.” I regret mentioning Chloe to Hayley, no, I regret mentioning all my past relationships. I hope this is the last time we speak of either one. “Please don’t mention her. Complicated doesn’t even start to explain the story, Hayley.”
“Complicated?” she rotates her head and opens her eyes. “You’re naked and you have an erection.” She points her finger at me. “I recommend you take a shower—cold because even though you kindly offered your services, my virginity will stay intact.”
“You’re not a blushing virgin?” I tilt my head without moving because usually a girl that has no idea about the male anatomy would make a scene. Not her though. It’s like I showed her a snake, and she’s just waiting for me to remove it. Not a spider, that’s her Achilles heel; she’d scream at the top of her lungs. “What’s the story?”
“I don’t blush easily,” she taps her face. “People with my skin tone don’t give you that pink, red or whatever color they turn to when their skin blushes. Now go take a shower. My lotion is under the sink… in case you want to take care of that thing.”
I head to the bathroom not responding to her lotion comment. Should I use it? I open the doors of the cabinet and find a stack of magazines, a plastic toolbox and other toiletry things. Curious I eye the magazines. Unique Woman. The one with the kinky articles on it.
“All About Sex”, “Best Ways to Give Pleasure”, “Everything With the Right Toy”, “How Does Sex Work”. There’s also an Eminence Magazine that says “Blow His Mind, Best Positions”. Yes, my dick not only gets harder, it’s about to burst. I open the toolbox and surprise, surprise. My virgin wife has a box full of lubricants and toys.
“I can’t find the lotion,” I yell from the bathroom. “Can I use the lubricants inside your toolbox or are they only for your vibrator?”
“You did not just go through my private stuff,” she rushes inside the bathroom, taking the box away from me. “This is personal, Knight.”
<
br /> “So, about you being a virgin.”
“Not that it is any of your business.” She closes the box, sets it back and shuts the door of the cabinet. “I’m an emotional virgin, Mitch. Never been touched intimately by someone else but I’m human and need to get off.”
“This is too sexy and you’re not letting me touch you. My frustration might kill me; it’ll be your fault if I die. Is my near death convincing you?” She shakes her head. I wink at her and start running the shower. “You’re a very cruel woman, Hayley Knight. Cold shower, here I come,” I say and hear her laugh for the first time since her parents’ outburst earlier today. “You should at least compliment the view.”
“That’ll inflate your ego,” she closes her eyes for a second but the smile doesn’t fade. She turns around and leaves the room. “My studio is already too small for the two of you to fit in it.”
Knowing I have to bathe and calm my body, I proceed to shower. The cold water hits my back but I can’t erase what I saw. She has kinky toys, the possibilities.
Chapter 18
Mitch
The booming sound of the alarm clock wakes me; I look at the black and green screen where it says three a.m. That’s it, I decide. Hayley needs employees, no matter what she says. We both need a life, or I’ll become her. She wakes up at the wee hours of the morning, works thirteen to fourteen hours, does some yoga, eats dinner and goes to bed. She’s going to die alone because she avoids the outside world, she just doesn’t know it. Hayley is gorgeous, men eye her, try to start a conversation with her, but she’s all business. I’ve been watching her since we started working together. However, she doesn’t understand the lingo or she just chooses to play dumb. I need to explain the game to her; it won’t be me but someone will take that emotional virginity and grow to love her. She’s fun and easy to get along with. As decisions go, I make the best one of the day when I hit snooze on the alarm and give us nine more minutes. Right after I bring her body closer to mine and set my lips behind her ear. She smells and tastes like sugary vanilla with a hint of peaches.
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