“Ugh, answer it already,” Isla groans when my mother calls my phone for the third time tonight. I don’t know why it’s only now that I realize I don’t have to put up with her crap anymore, but nevertheless, it forces a genuine smile from me. I reject the call and block her number then toss my phone back into my clutch.
Looking in the mirror, I tug my skintight black dress down over my thighs then make sure I’ve tucked the girls away properly. Grabbing my long, gray knit cardigan, I pull it on then adjust my pantyhose before slipping my feet into my boots and bending over to zip them up.
“You’re going to freeze,” Cleo says behind me, zipping up the fly on her checkered skinny leg pants.
“Better than looking like I’m wearing your grandma’s handbag on my legs.” Besides, a little cold has never hurt me before.
Cleo scowls, and Isla laughs from my bed, scrolling through her phone.
“Bitch. I think I liked you better when the grease monkey was giving it to you on the regular.” Cleo slaps a hand over her mouth as soon as the words escape her pink glossed lips.
“Cleo.” Isla stands, chucking her phone into her purse. “We don’t talk about he who shall not be named.”
“I’m sorry. But hey, I didn’t say his name.” She raises a brow and points a finger at Isla.
Shaking my head, I give myself one last look in the mirror before deciding that I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.
When the girls said they’re sick of my moody, mopey ass and that they were taking me out, I didn’t protest. I kind of agree with them. It’s time to stop living in self-pity. That and I could do with the distraction after Jared’s departure from my apartment yesterday morning. I haven’t heard from him since, and the need to keep reminding myself that’s a good thing is becoming tiresome. I miss him. I want him. I still love him. But I also hate him.
I’m not sure if I can move past what’s happened, so I guess there’s no point in obsessing over it. I need to keep waking up every morning and just keep going. Snuff out that part of me waiting on him to follow through with his promise to see me soon.
“Don’t worry about it.” I grab my clutch. “He actually saw me a few days ago when I left the store.”
They both gasp. “What the hell? Details.” Isla places her hands on her hips. She’s wearing the cutest peach dress, and I think I might have to borrow that one. Borrow. I try not to panic. Because I’m currently a little broke.
“Yeah, like now,” Cleo demands.
After rolling my eyes, I tell them what happened as we head downstairs to the street. Cleo hails a cab, wearing a huge grin on her face. “Wow, I just knew it wasn’t over. This is so exciting.”
Isla shoots daggers at her. “Whose side are you on?”
Cleo shrugs, dropping her arm when a cab spots us standing here and pulls over. “The side that wins, of course.”
A snort escapes me as I open the door and hop in the back. “And just who do you think is going to win?”
Isla gives the driver the address to the new club that’s opened downtown.
“Ja—oh, that was close.” Cleo laughs at herself. “But for real, he’s got your heart, Vera. You need to get that shit back or get him back.” She tries to wink, and Isla reaches into the back to pinch her arm. “Hey, ow!”
“Shut it, traitor.” Isla scowls before turning back around.
Cleo shrugs again. “Sorry not sorry. Just saying it how I see it.”
“You mean you’re telling it like it is?” I raise a brow.
She purses her lips, huffing. “Whatever.”
We get out of the cab five minutes later and walk briskly up to the doors of the new club, Sensual, showing the bouncers our IDs before getting waved in the doors. Someone curses loudly in the long line wrapped around the side of the newly remodeled building. Money might not buy you happiness, but it certainly has its benefits. That and Cleo’s father is part owner of half the buildings on Malone Avenue, including this one.
Sensual is one way to put it. The whole place is painted a sickly, vibrant red and black with lace trimmings for decoration and curtains. Framed semi-pornographic artwork decorates the walls.
I grab Cleo’s arm as we near the stairs to walk up to the VIP section. “Is this some kind of kink club?” I whisper-hiss.
She throws her head back with a laugh. “No. Well, at least not that I know of. Daddy told me the owner is almost sixty and a bit of a perv, though.”
“Lovely,” Isla mutters when we near the top and give the security guard our names. He directs us to a curtained-off corner where a large section of the floor is glass to view the dancers and some of the crowd below. “Oh, my God, is that woman in a cage?” I stare in fascination as we take our seat after giving our drink order.
“That’s insane. Look at her go. Do you think her nipple tassels ever fall off?” Isla asks. “Hmmm, I doubt it. She’s probably double side taped the shit out of them,” Cleo surmises.
Once our champagne arrives, we sit and people watch through the glass floor while drinking.
“Wow, yum.” I turn the bottle the waitress left in the ice bucket on the table. “This is so good.” Then again, any expensive champagne would taste better than the cheap wine I’ve been drinking lately.
“Right?” Cleo lifts it out, topping off our glasses. “Let’s get some more of this bubbly in our tummies.”
“So have you found an apartment yet?” Isla asks.
After taking a huge swallow, I admit, “No, but I haven’t had a lot of time to look. I really need to get my ass moving.”
Isla nods, taking a sip of her champagne. “You know you’ve got us. Don’t panic.”
Cleo nods, too. Warmth fills my chest, part champagne but mostly affection for these two women who would do something so huge for me. Even if it’d drive me crazy to live with one of them. I know I’d probably drive them crazy, too.
We finish the second bottle the waitress brings over before making our way downstairs to the dance floor. It’s been a long time since I felt like dancing. But tonight, I feel like I need it.
I tip my head back, downing the rest of my drink and passing the glass to a waiter who’s walking by. We move through the swaying bodies, the bass from the remix track pounding into all my senses. It feels like it’s waking me up. But it’s also making me think I’ll probably wake up with a splitting headache in the morning.
Cleo and Isla grab my hands and start swaying their hips to the Prince remix. A slow smile crawls across my face, and I start dancing too. We aren’t left alone for very long, though. A group of clean-shaven guys who look like they’ve barely turned twenty-one sidles over and starts dancing behind us. I don’t care, though. Not even when one of them grabs my hips and starts moving with me to the beat. Which is surprising. I’d usually have turned around and slapped him by now. But it feels good—that taste of vengeance on my tongue, slithering into my body and through my limbs, reigniting some of my soul. Until his hands move to my ass, making me cringe.
“You’ve got the best set of buns I’ve ever felt,” random guy yells near my ear.
I spin around, about to tell him he’s ruined the moment and to scamper off, but someone else does it for me. “And if you touch those buns again, I’ll make sure you won’t sit on yours for a month. Beat it, kid.” Jared shoves the guy away, who raises his hands in surrender and retreats into the crowd.
“What the—” The fury emanating from him shuts me up. He grabs my hand and starts pulling me away from the girls.
“She’ll see you ladies later,” he yells out to them. I send them an apologetic look, but Cleo’s all smiles and glee, clapping her hands and giving me a thumbs-up. Isla looks skeptical but doesn’t come after me, so I guess she’s not too worried.
He nods to a security guard, who steps aside for us to walk down a blocked off hallway. I hear a moan from behind one of the doors and again wonder what the hell kind of club this really is.
I yank my hand out of Jared’s when he opens a door. “Stop. What are you doing here?”
He just gives me a hard look. “Get inside.”
“No. Why?”
He runs a hand over his hair. “Christ, Vera. Because I’m not talking to you out here, and I fucking know you’ll run the second I get you out of this club. Get in.”
I cross my arms over my chest, raising a brow at him. He huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “Fine. Have it your way, beauty.” Then he’s picking me up and carrying me into a room that houses a few chairs and what looks like a bench seat. He kicks the door closed behind him, locking it while I do my best to kick him. “Put me down, now!”
He lowers me and pushes me against the wall, crushing his chest to mine. “Why were you letting that guy touch you? Do you really hate me that much?”
He’s caged me in with his arms. My breasts push against his black shirt. I lift my hands to his shoulders, trying to shove him off me. “I can do what I want, just like you probably have. And yes, I do hate you that much.”
He winces, his green eyes closing briefly then opening and imploring me, but I don’t know what for. “I never slept with Stella. I couldn’t. I haven’t been able to sleep with anyone.” He lowers his forehead to mine. “Not when every damn thought I have is of you.”
Relief. Warm, sweet relief wraps around my heart, squeezing out some of the damage. But it’s not enough. “I don’t care.” I try to push him off me again, giving up with a groan. “Answer the question, already. What are you doing here?”
He doesn’t hesitate to admit, “I followed you.”
“You what?”
That smile, and that stupid crooked tooth, everything about that mouth. My eyes soak all of it up without my permission. “I was coming to see you, saw you leave, and followed you.” He shrugs, pushing his chest further into mine. My nipples tighten, and I almost groan again with frustration. This is torture. “I don’t give a damn if that makes me sound crazy. I’ll be anything I need to be to make sure you’re always mine, Frost.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. I close my eyes, needing to block him from one of my senses before this loose hold I have on my self-control snaps. “Please, just stop this.”
The soft brush of his nose and the warmth of his breath ghosts over the skin of my neck, making me shiver. “You don’t really want me to do that.”
Stiffening, my eyes shoot open at those familiar words.
He laughs softly. “That’s my girl. You remember, don’t you?” He kisses the underside of my jaw, and my head tilts back to the wall, my resolve fraying. “We’re pretty hard to forget. Wanna know why?”
He licks my fluttering pulse, and I moan out a garbled, “No.”
He hums. “I’ll tell you anyway … because like any story that involves two people who fall in love, you’re my happy ending, and I’m yours.”
Tears fill my eyes. He can’t do this. He can’t say all these perfect words and try to turn something that ended the way we did into anything other than what it was—ruination. I wrecked us, but he killed us. He almost killed me. I can’t forget that. “Nice speech. Did you find it in the dollar store along with your country plaything?”
A broken laugh erupts from deep in his chest. He lifts his head, staring down at me with narrowed, determined eyes. “You can try to hurt me as many times as you want, but I’m not going anywhere.” His hands lower from the wall, drifting down to my hips. They squeeze them then move further down to tug my dress up and over my hips.
I remain frozen, full of disbelief. “You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
His fingers trail over the clips of my thigh highs, moving up until he reaches my panties. “W-what are you doing?”
“I’m gonna fuck the hate right out of you.” He rubs his finger over the damp material.
“No, you—” His mouth slams into mine, his teeth and tongue tugging my lips apart for him to gain entry. He licks my teeth, my tongue, the roof of my mouth, any inch of me he can get to. The thread snaps, and I melt into him, my hands moving up his shoulders to his neck and crawling into his hair. He groans, tilting his head and sucking my tongue into his mouth.
His hand fumbles between us, and I hear his fly unzip. He lifts my legs, hooking them around his waist. Then he’s moving my panties to the side and inserting a finger inside me. “Shit …” I tear my mouth away from his, struggling for breath and rational thought. It seems both have abandoned me when I need them most.
His finger disappears, and he hoists me higher, his cock nudging at my entrance before he slowly sinks inside with a drawn-out groan. “You think you can do without this? Without me?” Teeth sink into my neck. “Answer me.” His voice is a throaty growl.
“Y-yes,” I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut.
His lips graze a trail to my ear, his hands squeezing my thighs in a bruising grip as he thrusts hard and grinds into me. “You said you weren’t much of a liar.” He grunts. “Yet you seem to be lying through your perfect teeth every chance you get.”
A shaky breath leaves me at his whispered words. He’s right. I’ve turned into a dirty fucking liar. But I’ll lie forever if that’s what it takes not to be broken again.
“Are you going to talk, or are you going to fuck me?”
He chuckles, his nose running along my jaw. I tilt my head back, keeping my eyes closed. “Oh, I’m gonna do both, my beautiful Frost.”
Frustration and panic start to drown out my need to come. I’m such an idiot. Why the fuck am I even doing this?
Fingers tilt my chin down. “Open your eyes.” Gone is the cocky smartass and in its place is the softly spoken man who thaws my heart within seconds.
“Vera.” My eyes open. He blinks, and I melt even more. “I love you.” Those eyes are capable of stripping me of all rationality. But his words … They have the ability to render me hollow.
He starts thrusting slowly, never taking his gaze from mine.
“Your smile.” Thrust.
“Your laughter.” Thrust.
“Your strength.” Thrust.
“The way you glare at me first thing in the morning.” Thrust.
“The way you care so much that you feel the need to act like you don’t care at all.” Thrust.
“The way you ruined us to try to protect something that you know means a lot to me.” Thrust.
“The light in your eyes when you’re happy—truly happy.”
His breath washes over my lips, warm and drugging. “Wanna know what I love most of all?”
My head shakes, and a tear slides down my cheek. His thumb scoops it up and brings it to his mouth where he rubs the salty wetness over his bottom lip. The slow, deep thrusts keep coming. And I had no idea emotion overload could send you racing toward an orgasm like this. But it’s the best kind of slow build I’ve ever experienced.
“Your darkness. Because it’s not really dark at all. It’s beautiful, it’s honest, and it’s your heart.” He kisses my nose. “And your heart is mine.”
I close the distance between our lips, my mouth attacking his like it’s trying to absorb every bit of him inside me. He spreads my thighs open wider, and his thrusts fall in sync with the savage dance of our tongues and lips. It’s rough, it’s dirty, and it’s destroying me in the most exquisite way.
What feels like seconds later, I’m falling into spine-tingling bliss. My hands twist into his hair as I try to stop myself from drowning in the overwhelming sensations wracking my entire being. He slams into me three more times then stays buried inside with his lips fused to mine, groaning my name down my throat and causing my legs to spasm violently.
“Fuck,” he rasps, trailing his lips softly over mine before skating them over my cheeks. His hands let go of my thighs to hold the sides of my face. Dropping soft kisses over every inch of skin he can reach, he says, “I’m sorry.”
Love. What a word. You can fixate on it, study it, try to capture it, but ultimately, that tiny, woefully inadequate four-letter word is not enough. It’s merely a word, trying to capture something too powerful within a group of simply structured letters. It’s wrong. Love isn’t a word, and it’s not anything you can describe. It’s simply a trap. And once it’s caught you, good luck ever trying to get out. I know I probably never will. Doesn’t mean I’m going to give in, though. Its power has proven too much for me, and I’ve had enough of feeling powerless tonight.
Jared finally steps back, grabbing my arms and helping me to stay upright. “Frost?”
I step away and look down at my dress, righting it and my cardigan. I can feel Jared’s cum leaking out of me with every move I make, which is a bit gross but weirdly satisfying too.
He just stands there, staring at me while he zips up his jeans. The wary look on his face has my stomach clenching with guilt. Like he knows I’m about to walk out of here and leave him alone with his useless I love yous.
He’d be right. I smooth my hair back, take a shaky breath, and stalk to the door. “Bye, Hero.”
He doesn’t stop me, just whispers, “I’ll see you soon, Frost.”
But it lacks the conviction I’ve come to now expect from him. And that alone has my feet almost stumbling over themselves in the hall on the way out.