Dirty Addiction

by Ella Miles

  I pull out my phone and find the address that Skye texted me for where we are having dinner together tonight, then enter it into my Uber app.

  As much as I wanted to spend the entire day with Skye, I knew that it wouldn’t be a good decision. I’m not going to ruin her life by turning her into a cheater, and if I stayed a moment longer, that was exactly what would’ve happened. So, instead, I looked up a nearby hotel that had the nicest suite available, and I booked it. Not that Skye or Gabe will ever know where I’m staying tonight, but I’ll know, and my ego is far too sensitive to not stay somewhere nice. Just because I don’t typically spend this kind of money doesn’t mean that I can’t.

  I walk out of one of the nicest hotels I’ve ever stayed in and over to the Uber that’s waiting for me. I try not to think about what Gabe will be driving him and Skye to dinner in. Some ridiculous car I’m sure.

  What I should really be worried about is how to stop thinking about Skye. Because, tonight, after dinner, I have every intention of walking out of her life forever. It’s not that I care about her. I don’t. But, man, do I miss her sweet ass. I miss the way her body welcomes me in, like she’s been waiting for me forever. I hate how I miss the look in her eye and the sound she makes when she finally comes.

  And I have to let go of the dream of ever getting to experience that again with her.

  The Uber finally stops in front of the fancy seafood restaurant, and I climb out. I open the door to the restaurant that sits on a pier out over the water all by itself. The kind of restaurant that has white tablecloths at every table, at least three waitstaff per table, and nothing but the best wine on the menu.

  “I’m here to meet Skye King and Gabe Cole,” I say to the hostess. Names that I figured out after a quick Google search.

  She sweetly smiles at me. “Right this way, Mr. Jackson.”

  My eyes widen a little when she says my name, but I suspect that Gabe also did the same search on me that I did on him. I follow the hostess throughout the whole restaurant to the far corner where Skye is sitting at a table in the corner, overlooking the water. She’s wearing a plain gray dress that fits her nicely but isn’t overly sexy. It’s nothing compared to the dress she wore on the beach the night of our first date. This dress screams business. It seems more appropriate in a boardroom instead of on a date with her fiancé and her ex-lover.

  I take a seat at the table, opposite Skye, while her eyes are fixed on me.

  “How was your afternoon without me?” I ask.

  She cocks her head to the side and pulls her hands together on top of the table. “My afternoon was quite relaxing without you.”

  “Good. I wouldn’t want you getting your feelings mixed up about missing me, not when you have a fiancé who keeps you so completely satisfied.”

  She doesn’t flinch or even blink at my harsh words. “You forget I could never have feelings for a dick like you.”

  “So, where is your fiancé, Gabe?” I ask, glancing around the room, assuming he went to the restroom or something.

  Skye swallows hard and glances out the window. “He’s running late. He’ll be here soon.”

  She doesn’t have to add to the end of her sentence because it’s clear all over her body that she is annoyed with him for being late.

  “Can I get you two a drink or an appetizer to start?” the waiter asks.

  I motion to Skye, and she answers, “We will have a bottle of your house red wine and the clams to start. Thanks.”

  I grin as the waiter leaves to go get her bottle of wine.

  “Why are you so happy all of a sudden?” she asks.

  “No reason, I’m just surprised that you ordered wine. Wine means romance, and since it’s not clear if your beau is ever going to show up tonight, I’m shocked that you would be willing to share a bottle of wine with me. It must mean I did something right.”

  The waiter returns, pouring us each a glass of wine before disappearing again.

  “A lot can change in six months. I no longer think of wine as romantic,” she says, taking a sip of her wine.

  “Some things never change.”

  “So, when do I get to get rid of you?” she asks.

  “I have a flight booked back home for tomorrow. So, as long as you still want me gone, you won’t have to see me ever again after tonight.”

  “Prove it.” Her eyes light up with a sparkle and gleam as she teases me to prove myself just like I asked her to prove herself earlier.

  I pull out my phone, finding my plane ticket and showing it to her. “See, I have a flight booked for tomorrow. I’m a man of my word. I’ll be on that flight as long as I don’t discover that you lied to me. Plus, I need to be getting back to work.”

  “Oh, yeah, you have to get back to the dangerous world of building video games.” She snickers. Another fact that I’m sure she learned when she Googled me.

  “As opposed to the dangerous world of whatever Gabe does.”

  She grins. “Security. He risks his life every day to make sure that the richest people in the world stay alive.”

  “He does not. He hires men to protect his clients.”

  She shrugs. “Usually, but he also likes the rush of the job, so he often does security protections himself. And him working in this business puts our lives at constant risk.”

  I’m beginning to see what she might see in him. Because, if I know one thing about Skye, she is a risk-taker. She likes to live life on the edge a little differently than everyone else. Evidently, that’s what Gabe can provide her.

  Our appetizer arrives and we gobble it down while discussing all the basics that we never got around to discussing in the Bahamas. Our jobs. Why she became a veterinarian. We talk about families, about how neither of us has siblings and therefore adopted our friends as family. We talk about our favorite music. Hers is surprisingly jazz while mine is rap and hip-hop. We talk about our favorite places in the world. Hers is a small town in Italy while mine, outside of the Bahamas, is France.

  We talk for over an hour as we drink our wine and order more appetizers. We talk about everything that you should talk about on a first date. We laugh, we joke, and we tease each other. And I quickly forget that Gabe might be coming. I forget that he even exists. I haven’t been on a date with a woman in a long time. At least not one that wasn’t just about sex.

  “Sorry, I’m late.” Gabe’s voice rings out behind me, crushing the fantasy that we have created between us.

  Skye glares at him as he leans down and kisses her quickly on the cheek before taking his seat next to her.

  “Meeting run long again?” Skye asks, cocking her head to one side and giving him a look that means business.

  “Yes. Had a meeting with a new client who is interested in my services. Took longer than usual to close the deal, but I did. I always do.”

  The waiter brings over a third glass and pours Gabe a glass.

  “I’m sure the two of you had plenty to talk about while I was gone,” Gabe says, looking from Skye to me.

  I ignore Gabe studying Skye instead. Her reaction screams pissed. I don’t know a lot about love, having never been in love myself, but I suppose you can be pissed off at the person you’re desperately in love—but not for too long, or the love begins to fade. It doesn’t seem like Gabe is that concerned about Skye’s love for him disappearing while her anger is on full display.

  He holds up his glass of wine. “I’d like to make a toast to old flings.” Gabe drinks from his wine, but neither Skye nor I clink glasses with him or drink our glasses. Gabe smirks as he looks at me. “You didn’t like my toast?”

  “No, I didn’t find it in good taste.”

  Gabe laughs. “I thought it might break the tension between all of us. You see, I already know about you and Skye in the Bahamas. She told me all about it the night I proposed to her. She didn’t want any secrets between us,” Gabe says, squeezing Skye into his body.

  She pulls away, not happy to have his arms around her.

 
“Is that why you invited me to dinner then? You wanted to pick a fight with me for fucking your woman when she wasn’t even yours.”

  “No, I wanted Skye to be happy. And I thought we might all be able to be friends now that everything is out in the open.”

  The waiter returns, breaking through the tension, and we all order our food.

  “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” Skye says, getting up from the table.

  I don’t know if she really has to go or if she’s just trying to get away from having to deal with us.

  I lean back in my chair, and Gabe does the same, each of us sizing the other one up.

  “For a man who says he doesn’t want to pick a fight, it sure seems like you’re trying to start one.”

  “Let me make my intentions clear. I didn’t bring you here so that you and I could become friends. I brought you here because I have a proposition for you.”

  I frown, not liking the sound of that one bit. “What sort of arrangement?”

  “I know that you enjoyed fucking my girl in the Bahamas, and I know that you came here in hopes that you’d be able to continue fucking her. But then I threw a wrench in your plan. But I think you can help me with the problem I have. See, I want to marry Skye. I love everything about that woman, but I have needs beyond Skye. I want to have my cake and eat it, too, or so the saying goes.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I want you to fuck Skye once a week. That will allow me to fuck my own women on the side without Skye feeling mistreated. She’s a woman who deserves the best, and I plan on giving her the best. But she can also enjoy a little plaything on the side while I enjoy my own playthings.”

  “What makes you think Skye would agree to a plan like that?”

  “She will. She wants you. Skye gets what she needs. I get what I want. And so do you. You can fuck my woman once a week as long as you understand who’s in control. I have all the power. I say when this arrangement ends. If I say you don’t get to touch her for a year, you don’t touch her for a year, got it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, beautiful,” Gabe says as Skye walks back toward the table. “That was perfect timing. Mr. Jackson and I have come to an arrangement.”

  She frowns, looking from Gabe to me with her eyes narrowed. “You have?”

  Gabe looks at me. “We have.”

  “And what is the arrangement?” Skye asks.

  I stand up. “That I’m going to kick his ass.”

  Before Gabe has a chance to react, I dive over the table, knocking him to the floor. I punch him hard in the face—one, two, three times. He basically just laughs in my face. I know that he is more skilled than me and could stop me at any time. But he doesn’t. I get off another punch before the waitstaff comes over and starts pulling me off of him.

  I stop mainly because I can’t be here for another second. I can’t let Skye be around him, either.

  “What’s going on?” Skye asks, pissed off as she looks from Gabe lying on the floor with blood spilling from his lip.

  “I’m leaving, and you’re coming with me.” I hold out my hand to her, begging her to take it, and to my surprise, she does without hesitation.

  I thought I came here to end things. I thought I came here to get over the fantasy of fucking her again. I lied. Because I care more than I thought.

  15

  Skye

  I don’t know why I took Brody’s hand. I don’t know why I’m going with him. I should stay with Gabe; that would make things simpler. That would be the right decision, the better choice. But it’s not the choice I made.

  I don’t know what the hell just happened, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Gabe was the one who started it. Right now, I can’t stand Gabe, and when I look at Brody, all I feel is disappointment. Both men are idiots who don’t deserve me. But, right now, Brody might be the lesser of two evils.

  So, I let him lead me out of the restaurant while I keep my eyes on his back, ignoring all the customers who are staring at us, shocked at the scene that we caused. I don’t question him when he flags down an Uber, and we climb into the backseat.

  It takes a minute for the realization of what’s happening to hit me.

  The car begins driving away from the restaurant before I find my voice again. “Where are we going?” I ask Brody.

  Brody looks at me, and I realize I’m still holding on to his hand, but I don’t dare let it go.

  “My hotel.”

  I nod. It’s what I expected him to say, but I’m not sure if it’s the right answer.

  I glance out the window and watch the buildings whiz by as we drive. I have no idea which hotel is Brody’s or how long it’ll take us to get there, but it’s long enough to make me regret my decision.

  “Actually, can you take me to my condo first and then drop him off? My condo is just down this street,” I ask the driver.

  Our driver is an older gentleman. I would guess mid-sixties. “Of course, miss.”

  “What are you doing?” Brody asks.

  I remove my hand from his. “I’m sorry. I can’t do whatever you think we’re doing. I just need to go home.”

  Brody runs his hand through his hair, messing up his sculpted locks. “You don’t have to go back with me, but you shouldn’t go home with him either.”

  “What happened?” I ask even though I’m afraid I already know. It’s going to make me pissed off. And, if I’m pissed off, I won’t make smart decisions.

  Brody grabs my cheeks, looking at me as he strokes my face. “Gabe is not a good man, Skye.”

  “What happened?” I ask again. I don’t need to be told what Brody thinks of Gabe. I just need the truth.

  Brody drops his hands and purses his lips as he tries to find the words to tell me the truth.

  “Please.”

  “He wanted an arrangement where I’d get to fuck you in exchange for him getting to fuck other women. He wanted an open marriage, except it seemed he’d get the much better end of the deal. He’s a little cunt, Skye. He’s a bitch, a disgusting motherfucker who doesn’t deserve another second of your time. Forget about that asshole. He’s not worth your time.”

  I stare out the window while my hand rests on the base of it, fidgeting with the lock button. It hurts, but then I’ve known for a while what Gabe is.

  “Skye?”

  I don’t answer him. I can barely breathe, let alone speak. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to get out of the horrible situation I’ve found myself in.

  “Skye, what are you thinking?”

  I can’t. I just can’t.

  Brody senses that something is wrong. He undoes the seat belt and scoots close to me until his body is pressed against my side. He slowly moves his arms around me, pulling me into a hug. Neither of us speaks as the Uber driver drives toward my condo after Brody tells him the address. He finally stops, and I just sit for a moment in Brody’s arms.

  “Stay with me tonight. I have a suite, so you can have your own bedroom. I won’t talk to you. I won’t bother you at all. I will give you some time and distance to figure out what you want.”

  I nod, still unable to speak. I feel numb, rough. The driver starts driving the five blocks it takes to get to his hotel. He stops outside, and Brody, now deciding to be a perfect gentleman, opens my door and helps me out of the car. He keeps his arms wrapped around me as we walk through the lobby to the elevators. I don’t remember the elevator ride, just that it happened along with what I assume was a walk to the door of his hotel room. I somehow make it inside.

  “Your room is this way.” Brody leads me down a small hallway to the bedroom. He goes over to the bed and pulls down the sheets, leading me over to it and setting me on the edge of the bed. Then, he takes a step back.

  “Is there anything I can get you? Food? Drink? Someone to talk to?”

  I shake my head.

  “Okay. I’ll be just down the hallway. If you need me at any time of the night, just come in and wake me.”
<
br />   He turns to walk out.

  “Wait.”

  He does, exhaling as he stops.

  He stares at me, and I stare at him.

  Then, I stand up and walk over to him. “Thank you.”

  “Of course.” He leans down and sharply kisses me on the forehead. And, in that second, the spell breaks.

  I grab his cheeks. I move his lips to mine, and I kiss him. And, damn it, the kiss feels good.

  Why did I have to kiss him? Now, there’s no going back. There’s no way I’m going to be able to stop, and it’s just going to make things so much worse. It’s not bad enough that I’m about to marry a crazy person, but I have to do it while being hung up with this asshole. My heart and mind are torn between two people, and I’m about to give them both what they want. But what about what I want?

  I don’t know what I want, except that I want Brody to fuck me and make me forget about everything else.

  Brody grabs my neck as he kisses my lips over and over. We stumble backward until we’re falling on the bed. Arms and legs tangle around each other, but our lips never part. It’s almost as if neither one of us takes a second to really breathe and think about what we’re doing, so we will stop. So, neither of us will allow that to happen.

  Instead, we kiss, we groan, and we tear each other’s clothes off. Brody rips his jacket off while I pull his tie over his head. His shirt goes next; buttons fly as it falls in a heap on the floor, showing me his hard, strong chest that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since I saw him shirtless again in Albuquerque.

  “I knew you wanted me the second you saw my abs again. You’re a sucker for hard abs and biceps.” He smirks as he flips me over and slowly starts unzipping my dress. “Did you wear this dress for him or me?”

  I bite my lip, refusing to answer. If we are going to fuck, we’re not going to talk about what’s happening. The whole reason for sex is to make me forget, to allow me an escape, not to figure out what I really want.