Gemma Harper
One year ago…
"They're having all the presenters wait together in hopes of things running effortlessly," Mallory says, her voice full of apology.
"It's fine," I huff.
It's not Mallory's fault. In fact, she's gone above and beyond her personal assistant duties tonight.
At the closed door, I focus on the temporary sign attached.
Presenters: Gemma Harper & Zarek Sisko
My nerves feel raw. I smooth down my shimmering floor-length silver dress and adjust the strapless top unnecessarily. There's so much tape beneath, I'll be lucky to have any skin left when it gets peeled off later.
"I'm so—" she starts to apologize, but I stop her with my hand.
"Nothing to be sorry for, Mal. Let's do this," I say with more courage than I feel.
Zarek's reputation is well known—his penchant for beautiful arm candy, public sex, and the blunt and harsh words he throws around without a care. Most of all, though, he’s best known for the sneaky way he handles shit. His previous record label, he pulled one over on them good—fucking them before they knew what hit them so he could strike a better deal with Nobil Records. And then there’s his east coast and west coast girlfriends not finding out about each other until it's too fucking late…
No, his reputation has nothing to do with my apprehension. Instead, it has everything to do with one unexpected week in New York. He'd almost succeeded in trying to turn me into the victim of his scandals, but he chose the wrong girl. Better men had sought to pull one over on me, but if there's one thing I learned growing up with my mother, it's to trust no one. So, I fled without a word and never looked back. It took a lot to ignore his calls and repeated attempts to reach me, but I persevered—and I would again.
Swallowing my anxiety, I open the door and gasp.
Zarek's hips move at a furious pace, the sound of each thrust slapping against an award show model's bare ass. His hand curls over her shoulder, keeping her from falling over the back of the chair she's bent over. Moans fall from her parted lips, and fingers dig into the brown leather arms.
"Christ," I growl, turning away from the live backstage porno. "Don't you have any self-respect?"
"Don't worry, baby, I've got some for you too," he grunts.
I snap my head back to him just as he pulls his dick free, and scowl.
The young model watches our exchange with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. I'm not sure if it's embarrassment or exertion coloring her face, and I don't give a fuck.
He strokes his latex covered hard-on in my direction.
"If I recall, you know how to swallow like a good girl," he says with a sneer.
Mallory gasps beside me, sending my anger over the edge.
Giving a forced grin, I sashay over to him.
His stroke falters.
"You want a taste of this fine piece of ass?" He slaps the girl's butt, causing her to jerk and yelp.
My hands ball into fists and my jaw tenses as I stop in front of him.
"Or just want another hit of—"
Before I can think or talk myself down from the fury, I cock back my arm and launch it at his face, my fist meeting his left eye.
The model screams, shoves away from the couch, and stumbles away.
"Fuck!" I shout, cradling my hand.
"Jesus Christ!" he exclaims, releasing his cock and cupping his face.
"Are you okay?" Mallory rushes to my side, putting an arm around me.
"Why didn't anyone tell me punching someone hurts?" I cry out.
"You fucking bitch." Zarek's insult brings my eyes back to him. "What the fuck's wrong with you?" Movement at his waist pulls my eyes down as he tucks his cock back into his dark denim pants.
"Hey," Mallory protests when he shoves her away.
I back up, but he advances on me. As he closes the distance, my eyes catch on a curly pubic hair next to his eye.
Biting my bottom lip, I fight back laughter.
"This isn't fucking funny," he roars.
"You've got something…" I point with my uninjured hand.
"It's called a fucking black eye," he seethes.
"Not that," I laugh out, losing my battle.
His mouth tightens, clearly not as amused as I am.
"Pube…face." My laughter strangles the words.
Turning away, he leans into a dressing mirror and plucks the dark hair from his temple.
"I guess she's au naturel," I continue, still laughing.
"Oh my God!" Her cry draws all our eyes.
Pulling and tugging, she hurries to straighten her dress and hair.
"It's okay, sweetheart. Nothing wrong with that," I offer.
This time, I'm sure the red on her face is from embarrassment.
"You're such a bitch," Zarek says, back in my face.
"And you're an asshole," I argue, pushing up on my toes to get into his.
"You—"
"No," I cut him off. "What you said to me was uncalled for!"
"Uncalled for?" he returns. "You just fucking left! Not a single word, and then I didn't even fucking exist to you."
"Awww, did I hurt your feelings?" I tease, feeling like a complete cunt after saying it.
Hurt flashes across his face.
"I thought…" He closes his eyes, letting the words die off. When he reopens them, I don't see any hurt, only rage. "If I'd known you were just like the rest, looking for a hookup, I would've given you the full whore treatment. Just like your mother. Should I get my wallet?"
Mallory gasps again at his words—words that swirl around in my head, make me sick to my stomach, and sting the backs of my eyes.
Straightening my spine, I swallow the anger, and the urge to knee him in the balls.
"Fuck you."
"Been there, done that," Zarek says, arrogance and victory on his face. "Not sure who's been there since…" he lets his words fall off and slowly retreats, eyes staying on mine.
I refuse to cry. I won't let him see the cut he made.
He knew exactly what to use, and in true Zarek Sisko form, he shredded my flimsy armor.
I give a humorless laugh. "I don't need anything from you, Z." I don't miss the way he flinches at the nickname. "I'm pretty sure I finished with you months ago," I taunt.
I'm acting like a teenage brat, and although I know it’s fucking stupid, I can't help it.
His face completely shuts down. No readable emotion.
"Yeah, I got the message," he says, calm and collected.
Turning from me, he walks into a restroom. I anticipate a slamming of the door. Instead, he shuts it easy.
The small click shatters my heart and unleashes the tears I've been holding back.
Mallory rushes to my side, guiding me to the dressing table farthest from the restroom.
Zarek doesn't emerge until we’re called to present on stage.