SebastianKingston comes with a loud grunt, slamming into Ella and going still. He bends his head forward to rest against her shoulder, then kisses her neck.“You were great, little one,” he says.“Mmm,” she says, her voice soft and sleepy.Reclining against King’s chest, with her legs spread and King’s cock still embedded inside of her, Ella is an absolute vision. I want this to be a painting, hung only in a bedroom that the three of us share, a reminder of how good we have it, how fantastic we are together.Her taste is still on my lips. I run my tongue over them, collecting as much as possible. I’ve never eaten out a woman who tastes like a combination of feminine sweetness and strawberries, but somehow, Ella does.King pulls her to the side, the two of them reclining. He moves back on the bed, to the far side of it. “Scoot to the middle,” he tells her, “and Bash can sleep on your other side.”I see the moment everything reverts back to the way it was for her. I see the moment her
Sometime later, when the end isn’t so raw and painful, I’ll pull the memory of this night from the recesses of my mind and really consider it. Relive it. Over and over and over.The bedroom scene from tonight is going to be the one positive thing I can come back to when things get shitty. I can remember the night I wore a beautiful dress and went to the Tyler Gala and danced with billionaires and then went home with them for the most incredible sex I ever had or ever will have.And my helpful mind will gloss over the messy aftermath. Because nobody wants to think about that.It’s only when I reach the parking garage that I realize I left my shoes behind.Great, I’m going to be walking home barefoot. I wonder which will hurt worse—my feet or my heart.My heart. Definitely my heart.KingstonMy son looks like he wants to throw a punch. I wouldn’t mind letting him, because I feel like absolute shit for not immediately racing down the stairs to see if I could catch Ella before the elevato
“Trina,” I say slowly. “I’ve been thinking.”“Yeah?” Her voice sounds so eager, I almost feel like an asshole for what I’m about to say.“I’ve been thinking of quitting for good.”She gasps. “Don’t do that to me, Bastian. It was fine to lie low for a few years, but you’re ready for a return.”“If I decide to come back,” I say, “you’ll be the first to know. Bye, Trina.”Before she can try to stop me, I end the call and toss my phone to the rumpled bedsheets. I sink down to the edge of the bed, holding my head in my hands.She makes it sound so easy. Make a comeback. Right. She’s one of the very, very few people who know how bad it got. The drinking was out of control. Thankfully, drugs were never a part of it for me. But the booze…it was everywhere, always flowing. Beer, wine, champagne, liquor. Ever-present.The funny thing was, I never realized I had a problem. I didn’t even like drinking all that much, and I thought I just did it to be social with others who were drinking.It wasn’t
KingstonJoel’s off skiing in Tahoe again. He left the day after the gala and he’s been there for nearly a week. He didn’t take my skis this time. Either he’ll rent some, buy his own, or put off any pretense of actually skiing and do what he’s really there for: partying.Nobody else who works here can just up and leave whenever the fuck they feel like it.I remember him as a little boy, and my heart clenches in my chest. He never quite took to me like he took to his mother, Rayanne. She and I had him when we were young, just starting college. She told me she was on the pill. Much later, while drunk and angry at me, she’d admitted she had never been on the pill. She’d seen that Tyler Analytics, my dorm room start-up hobby, was going places, and she wanted to be a part of it…forever. It had been her mother’s idea, actually, and I’d pitied Rayanne during the big confession, rather than being pissed at her.I wish now, that things had been different. I wish I’d insisted on splitting custo
Natasha’s green eyes take a long, careful look at my face. “You’re not okay. But that’s okay. Have you thought of reaching out to either of them?”“Nope. No way.” I carry my bag toward the employee restroom past Kevin’s office.Rather than refilling the salt and pepper shakers and ketchup containers like she’s supposed to be doing, Natasha follows me. “Tell me why you can’t simply talk to them,” she says.“Because someone like me does not belong in Dorado Heights,” I say. “I cleaned up well enough, but Joel still looked at me like I was shit on the bottom of his shoe.”Natasha puts a hand on her hip and points at my chest. “If I had the hots for some fancy pants businessman,” she says slowly, “would you tell me I didn’t belong with him?”“Oh, hell no,” I say.“Would you tell me I wasn’t good enough? Would you tell me that even though I looked good for the Bellefleur District, I wasn’t good enough for Dorado Heights?”“No fucking way, Natasha.”“Exactly. So who the hell are you to say
The noise Natasha makes is difficult to describe. It’s something between a gasp and a shriek, with a large helping of ohmygawd ohmygawd thrown in.She sets down the tray of empty pint glasses on Carl’s station, then grabs me by the shoulders. “This is exactly what we were talking about, Ella. You will talk to that man, and you listen to me. You deserve good things. Good, nasty things. Go get that D.”Carl’s eyes grow wide. I think mine must be wide, too. Natasha spins me around and pushes me through the swinging door, back into the dining room.I approach Sebastian once more. He’s watching me over the glass of water the busser brought to him.Instead of asking him what he’d like to order, I blurt out, “How—how did you know to find me here?”“Well,” he drawls, “I thought about hanging around outside your apartment building, but that was a little too creepy, even for me. Then I remembered seeing you at the karaoke place, and I wondered if you might hang around this area sometimes. I did
Ella and I walk inside. We’re immediately hit with a blast of sticky-sweet-scented heat, like everyone’s drinking lemon drops…or maybe showering in them. But the crowd inside is thankfully small. The chances of me being recognized are slim, as always.“Sing first,” Rick says. “Sit and drink later. But you can have a shot for your nerves, if you like.”I’m tempted. Not because I need something to help with performing, but because I haven’t performed in so long, this is going to be trippy.But it’s a small request. Ella has no idea what she’s asking of me. I’m sure I could get her to stay by my side even if I don’t sing. Maybe I’m not trying hard enough to get out of this because I secretly want to do it?I miss performing. I miss creating music, sharing it with the world. Maybe, in this hole-in-the-wall karaoke bar, I can get a taste of the life I lost.“Nothing to drink for me,” I say. “Princess? How about you?”“Just some water, before we sing.” Pausing, she puts a delicate hand on m
His hazel eyes are intent on mine, and even though we’re on a stage in a dingy karaoke bar, it’s like nobody else is here. He’s singing directly to me, telling me about his demons and I can feel it, all the sorrow and bittersweet love in not just the lyrics and the melody, but in him.When the song ends, everyone claps and whistles like we’re rock stars or something.They’re asking for more, but Sebastian grabs my hand and leads me from the little stage.“I have to run, princess,” he says. “I’ll drop you off at home.”“Oh, okay.” I’m weirdly disappointed. I’d thought we would stay here for a couple hours or so, after all of his insistence that we hang out as friends. But now, suddenly he has to leave?He waves at the people in the bar as we walk past. Something about that gesture seems odd, like he feels he owes them something, or that they want something from him, but he doesn’t want to give it.As soon as we’re out on the sidewalk, he pulls his phone from his pocket and texts someon