Chapter 12

 

Loneliness

 

Melissa

 

 

I didn’t know it at the time, but that night changed everything, or maybe it was those three little words. I thought it was my imagination that he tensed when I declared my feelings for him. I should’ve figured out that something was wrong when Peyton was gone the next morning, leaving me with only a quick note on the table that something came up, and he needed to get back to Myrtle Beach.

What did he think would happen when I was all alone with no friends?

He became my everything. I hadn't much of a chance to meet people with all the time I spent with him and on my classes.

For the next few weeks, Peyton canceled his visits—company emergencies. I remembered those were the same words he used to Regina when he didn’t want to be home. I guessed the saying karma’s a bitch was right because now he said the same thing to me. I wondered how long until he decided he wanted his money’s worth from me and how he would take it. The question was answered a few weeks later when I received a text from him. It was simple and to the point: he would be in town and needed my services. He actually said services. I was no longer the valued companion—I was the high-priced whore.

The next two months, Peyton stopped in for a few hours on three different visits. Each time he arrived at the apartment, took me straight to the bedroom, and fucked me. No play time, nothing extra. One time he didn’t even bother to take off his clothes. I was leaned over the bed, fucked, and then he pulled his pants up and left. He was becoming even more detached with every visit.

Each day I sunk a little deeper into myself. I had distanced myself from my parents, ashamed of all the lies and on constant edge that I would allow something to slip. We still talked but not as much. I was too busy with my studies… at least that is what I led them to believe.

One day, I checked my phone after class and found a text from Peyton. It had been almost a month since his last visit. This text was different than the previous few that said to meet him at the apartment.

 

Peyton: Come home right after class—I need you.

 

My heart pumped faster, and my body ached for him. He said he needed me. When I rushed back to the apartment, I found him in the bedroom naked, waiting for me. His clothes were thrown over the bed but he was sitting on the chair in the corner. His hand covered his dick as he slowly pumped it. It was one of the sexiest positions, him on display for me.

“On your knees and suck my dick.”

There was something in his voice that made me hesitate.

“Now, Melissa!”

I dropped to my knees as he had taught me. My hands behind my back and my mouth open and ready. I leaned into him and swallowed his length as far as I could. Peyton began to flex and pump deeper and deeper until I gagged. Instinctively, I pushed my hands forward to push away. That was a mistake. He grabbed my hands, pulling me up as he stood. He threw me on the bed and tied my hands to the loops at the headboard. Then he crawled on top of me and sat on my chest.

“Didn’t I tell you not to use your hands? Now it’s time you learn to obey,” he said with gritted teeth. “I’m not here to play, Melissa. I paid for you to suck my dick. Now fucking open your mouth and suck it.”

Peyton shoved his dick into my mouth as far as he could and held it there until I gasped for air. Tears sprang from my eyes and fell to my pillow as he continued to thrust into my mouth over and over. It wasn't until I was about to pass out when Peyton finally stopped. He groaned as he pulled his dick out of my mouth and shot his cum all over my face.

“Eat it all.” He pushed his cum into my mouth and held it shut until I swallowed. Next, Peyton unpinned me and sat to the side; he put his hand up my skirt and shoved his finger into me. “You really are a dirty whore, aren’t you? Your pussy is always in need. Wet, willing, and ready to be fucked. I wonder what your parents and Regina would think if they saw little Miss Perfect now.”

The coldness and calculating look in his eyes chilled me. I didn’t know what I wanted, or maybe I did. My body craved to be sexually satisfied, but my heart required more. It begged to be loved, wanted, and needed.

Peyton leaned over and untied my hands, then opened the nightstand drawer and threw something down on the bed. “I can’t stay, but I’m in a giving mood.”

He turned, grabbed his clothes, and walked out of the bedroom. I reached over and picked up what he had thrown at me—a fucking dildo. The only place I wanted to stick that thing was his ass. The anger I felt was short-lived and turned to pain—one I had never felt.

A few minutes later, the door slammed shut and so did my heart.

I closed my eyes and rolled on my side, hugging the only thing willing to dry my tears, a pillow that lingered with Peyton’s cologne. I cried for hours until there was nothing left in me. I decided, once again, that it was time to live for me and fuck the rest of the world and their rules.

Weeks passed since that night Peyton decided to discard me again, and each day I became more bored. Lonelier. There were still over six months on the contract that I had to honor. I signed to be a “companion” and from this point on that was all he would get from me. I wouldn't let him have any more of me emotionally.

I swore that night that I didn’t care, and I would live my life, but the reality was that I was devastated. The following weeks the only thing I did was go to school and study. As the loneliness grew, so did my need for interaction with people.

I still hadn't heard from Peyton since the night he walked out and shattered my heart. I pulled out my books to study for my upcoming class exam and found an invitation to a club a few blocks up the street. I fidgeted with the necklace Peyton gave me before we started the arrangement. I argued with myself about whether I should go or not. One minute, I was studying and the next, I was in the bathroom getting dolled up for a night on the town. I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. I told myself that it was just like when I lost the scholarship and started to live again. Peyton didn’t care about me, so why should I care about him or his wants?

I questioned my decision multiple times after I headed toward the new dance club in town, Final Stand. The line to enter was long, and it took about an hour for me to reach the bouncer. He handed me back my license and opened the rope for me to enter. It was like nothing I had ever seen. Bright, colorful lights sparkled off all the people moving to the beat of the music. Above the wooden dance floor was a loft filled with people looking below. The upper level was the royalty and the lower their subjects to honor them.

For the first time in months, I actually felt young as the music pumped through my body. I realized that I had spent my teenage years working so hard to be an adult. I forgot that I was only eighteen. I found a little table in the corner away from the crowds and just watched. As much as I wanted to join the fun, I wasn’t ready to break all of Peyton’s rules.

A waitress dressed in a French-Maid outfit approached me. “Do you have a band?”

I lifted my right hand, no band. Only people twenty-one and over received the bands. It made it easier to identify the underaged patrons.

“What can I get for you?”

“Coke, please.”

The waitress returned a few minutes later and placed a small shot glass on the table, and I looked up at the waitress with a confused look. “I ordered a Coke.”

“It was sent from the gentleman upstairs.”

This wasn’t the Coke I ordered; it was alcohol. “What is it?” I lifted my arm and showed her I didn’t have a band.

“It looks like a small cup of Coke.” Her reply was short and annoyed. “At least that is what the gentleman who sent it said.”

My eyes scrunched together, and I tilted my head. “But…”

Miss Attitude cut me off. “Look, I was told to bring you a drink. Drink it or don’t. I have things to do.” She turned around and left.

I stared at the drink and contemplated whether I wanted to try it or not. I had a glass of wine occasionally on holidays with my parents, but this shit was the strong stuff. One small sip and my eyes rolled back in my head, and my throat was on fire.

“Hello, beautiful.”

I was startled when a sexy-as-hell male voice echoed. He picked up a long strand of my auburn hair and twirled it around his finger. His blue eyes locked on mine as he tucked the strand behind my ear. “My name is Bryce. What’s your name, pretty lady?”

“Melissa. My name is Melissa.” I stuttered. The pitch in my voice became higher as he rubbed his hand up and down my ivory skin as I spoke to him. My stomach flip-flopped, but I wasn’t sure if it was the way he approached or the fact that he was the forbidden fruit that I wasn’t allowed to taste. I knew the rules—I read the contract before I signed it—but I was lonely. I was tired of being alone, locked in a posh prison and treated like a whore. I just wanted to have fun for one night, to kick back and enjoy life.

“It’s nice to meet you, Melissa. Well, I think we should take this party upstairs where the fun is. Besides, I have lots more where that came from.” His head nodded toward the drink in my hand.

“Oh, you’re the one who sent my drink? The waitress didn’t tell me who.” I felt even more electrified as he tucked my hair behind my ear, and his finger dallied on my shoulder.

His eyes beamed and his smile made my nipples pebble. I leaned in close to press my breast against his chest. I knew this was wrong, but the passion in his touch made me crave more. He held me closer, swagging our bodies to the music overhead. My body hummed at his touch; I knew I needed to get out before I did something I would regret.

Our eyes danced together as we studied each other but never uttered a word. Bryce reached for my hand before he brought it up to his lips for a soft and tender kiss. His lips were hot and sent sparks down my spine. I’m not sure if it was the excitement of being out or if he really made me feel things.

He must have sensed my uncertainty about leaving with him because he leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Sweet Melissa, don’t you feel the connection? The spark when we touch?” His cologne was strong yet sensual, and when he talked to me, I could smell the cinnamon and alcohol on his breath.

My mind said no, but my body refused to listen. Once again, my body ruled my actions. Bryce decided my fate when our fingers interlocked, and I followed him up the stairs.

As much as my mind tried to convince my body to do otherwise, it was as if I wasn’t in control anymore. We reached the top where a large man stood guard, but the minute he saw Bryce, he moved aside. Bryce emanated power and arrogance. He didn’t wait for others; they waited on him. Bryce led me to a small table and pulled out a chair for me.

“I’ll be right back.”

The fog of Bryce’s cologne vanished when he stepped away and allowed my mind to clear. I needed to get the hell out of there. I’d already broken more rules in one night then I had in all the months I’d been with Peyton. I hadn't technically done anything wrong, but if this party continued, I would.

“Bryce, I need to go…”

“Sweet Melissa, don’t go. You’ll break my heart.”

“I have to,” I protested. “If my friend finds out I’m here, he won’t be happy.”

“He? You have a boyfriend, Melissa, who let you out of his sight? He must be a damn fool. If you were mine, I’d never let you out of my sight.”

“No. Yes. It just…” Once again I was at a loss as to how I could explain who Peyton was. Besides, if I told the truth, I would have to explain I was paid to be a companion and have sex with him.

“Sweet Melissa, I had plans for us. Big plans.” He cupped my breasts and massaged them tenderly. My panties were soaked, and if I didn’t get out of there fast, the world would be able to smell my arousal.

“Please, I really have to go.”

Bryce didn’t look happy, but he finally stepped away and toward the guard standing at the top of the stairs. He whispered something to him before he turned back to me. “Raul will make sure you get home.” His next words came out as a command. I shouldn’t have liked it, but I did. “Friday night, eight o’clock, meet me here.”