14
Sasha
The image of Conor in the shower has burned itself into my brain.
I tried to look away, I really did, but it was physically impossible.
A sight has never turned me on so much in my life.
He was breathtaking. His muscles strained as he moved beneath the spray, water pelting down on him, no other sounds but the shower and his grunts that have been playing on a constant reel in my head.
Fuck. Me.
Thank you shitty hotel with the broken door. I will forever be indebted to you.
I was so tempted to join him, to take over, but that would be crossing a line so instead, I stood there and watched him like a creep.
If I wasn’t so transfixed on him, I could have moved before he was finished. Instead, I was too busy fantasizing about him with me. Kissing me, touching me, fucking me.
It was awkward when he eventually came out of the bathroom. We both apologized over and over, but I don’t think either of us meant it.
And then he put on his suit and all those thoughts left my head. It should be a sin for a man to look so good in a suit. It’s unfair really.
But then, I remember what’s underneath that suit. It’s like an endless cycle that’s hellbent on torturing me.
Since there’s only one bed in our room, Conor said he’s happy to take the couch. It looks small and uncomfortable, but I think after that little - no, big incident, it’s for the best that we don’t share a bed. I don’t think I’d be able to control myself.
“I’m really nervous.” I admit, wringing my hands together.
“I’ve got you, Sash.” Conor takes my hand in his as we approach the giant double doors of the venue. “Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?”
“Only about a hundred times.” I joke, squeezing his hand tightly in mine, trying to joke away the nerves.
I hate to admit it, but Olivia was right. Conor has barely taken his eyes off me since he saw me in this dress. His appreciative gaze makes me nervous and I don’t know why. I’ve felt nervous around him before, but tonight, it feels different somehow.
My whole body is buzzing with awareness every time he looks at me.
Maybe it’s because I saw his dick earlier and realized just how long it’s been since I’ve had any action with another human being and not just my vibrator.
“I really mean it though.” Conor starts, his eyes raking over my body again. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re always beautiful and I don’t know why I don’t say it more, but tonight…” He shakes his head lightly. “I don’t even know how to describe you tonight.”
I’m wearing the yellow dress Liv bought me, paired with white strappy heels. The dress compliments my tanned skin tone perfectly. I’ve styled my hair to look elegant but casual. It’s pulled into a loose bun and I’ve left a few strands out at the front to frame my face.
“Hot as fuck!” Conor bursts out, startling me out of my head. “That’s how I would describe you tonight. Hot as fuck.”
Not as hot as you in the shower though. Dammit, Sash! I’m internally slapping myself because no matter how hard I try, or how nervous I may be right now, I cannot get the image to fuck right off, and out of my head.
“You ready?” Conor asks, placing his hand on the giant door.
No. Why did I come here? It’s like Liv said, these people aren't really my friends anymore, so what was the point? God, this was so stupid. “Yes.”
“We can stay for an hour tops.”
“Make it thirty minutes.”
“Deal.” Conor swings the large door open, the muffled sounds from outside immediately become a circus of different noises.
There’s some kind of live jazz music playing at the back of the room.
There’s easily more than two hundred people here, everyone talking, laughing and dancing.
I don’t fit in here at all. Everything is so fancy, the people are rich and I would rather be in my sweats, stuffing my face with popcorn as I watch a shitty romcom.
I bet none of these women even own a pair of sweats. Do they even know what sweats are?
This entire place screams Alex. Rose always said she would want something quiet, close friends and family, at a cute little venue that reminded her of Italy where her grandparents are from.
This is the complete opposite. So many people that I feel claustrophobic before fully entering the room, giant crystal chandeliers hanging from the sky-high ceilings, everything decorated in white and gold.
I feel ridiculously underdressed. I’ve never seen so many diamonds in all my life. How are Alex and Rose friends with these people? Waiters are passing around flutes of champagne and small canapes. Not a beer in sight.
“I hate it.” Conor mutters beside me. “Can we leave now?” His comment finally pulls my attention away from the wandering eyes of the people surrounding us.
Specifically the woman… staring at him. And they’re not even trying to be subtle either.
Their eyes practically bulge out of their heads as they look him up and down.
A lot of them are older too. Dirty bitches.
“Come on.” I use my hand still clutched in Conor’s to drag us further into the room. We grab a glass of champagne each off one of the passing trays, and I gulp down most of it in one go.
“Easy there, tiger.” Conor's teasing smile warms something inside me.
That is until I hear a deep, male voice from behind me. “Sasha?” For fucks sake. Could I not even have had five minutes?
I spin around, plastering on my mastered fake smile. “Alex! It’s so good to see you.” He pulls me into a hug but we’re both tense, making the whole thing painfully awkward. “Where’s Rose?”
He pulls away and his eyes immediately drop to my cleavage. Perv. Scrap what I said before, some people never change. “She’s about. Probably talking someone’s ear off.” He laughs, that same booming laughter that always sounded forced.
“This is Conor, my boyfriend.” I step closer to him, and Conor wraps a possessive arm around my back, pulling me firmly against his side.
“Ahh yes, the boyfriend.” Alex scoffs, reaching his hand over for Conor to shake. He looks him up and down as if he’s sizing him up. “Heard a lot about you.” He’s coming across as an arrogant twat, but honestly, I didn’t expect anything else from him.
“All good things I hope.” Conor keeps his charming smile plastered on his face, seeming completely unbothered about Alex’s assholery.
Alex merely shrugs in response before saying his goodbyes and moving on, disappearing into the crowd to mingle with other guests.
“Dick.” Conor mutters under his breath, quiet enough that only I can hear it.
I bite back a laugh. “Good thing you have media training.” I step in front of him, reaching up to straighten his tie. “Although, watching you punch that asshat at his own engagement party would have been pretty entertaining.”
“If he comes around again, making it blatantly obvious that he wants to stick his head between your boobs, my media training might not be enough to stop me.”
A soft laugh escapes me as I look up into his deep blue eyes. And then I stop. There’s something different in his expression. Something possessive. It’s anger, mixed with something else. Something darker. Something that sends a rush of heat through my body.
The intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch and the butterflies that seem to permanently reside in my stomach erupt all over again.
A gentle tap on my shoulder interrupts our moment and I want to curse whoever it is.
Rolling my eyes, I give Conor one last smile before turning around.
Max stands in his signature grey suit, a gorgeous woman at his side.
“Sash, hey.” He pulls me into a tight hug and somehow, it’s more awkward than the hug with Alex.
Both his arms wrap around me while I awkwardly pat his back with one hand.
The other is still firmly held in Conor’s tight grip.
A tight grip that seems to get tighter the longer Max holds onto me.
“How are you?” Max asks when he pulls away.
“I’m good, you?”
“Good.”
The four of us stand in an uncomfortable silence, and suddenly Conor’s hand in mine is the only thing keeping me grounded. “You remember Conor.” I blurt out, trying desperately to make this interaction less painful.
“Of course.” Max says, shaking Conor’s outstretched hand.
“This is Jessica.” Oh. So that’s her name.
It’s funny how much I’ve been obsessing over her and Max since I found out he cheated on me, and yet this is the first time I’m hearing her name.
It’s also funny that this is the first time I'm seeing Max that my tummy hasn’t flipped.
No butterflies, no nausea, just nothing. And it feels good.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Sasha.” Jessica says, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness.
Too bad I can’t say the same to her. I just give her a tight-lipped smile in response. No point in lying to the woman. At least she has the decency to look guilty after what she did to me.
After Max proposed to me, I had received a message from a woman saying that she slept with Max months before. Turns out they were sleeping together the whole time and once she found out we were engaged, she flipped. I don’t know if she knew about me the whole time, but right now, I don’t even care.
Part of me is glad that it happened. It’s been tough being on my own for the first time in my life, but I can’t deny that I have been happier. And a lot of that has to do with the man standing beside me.
What I do care about right now though, is that Jessica’s gaze keeps drifting towards Conor, lingering a lot longer than what’s necessary. I’m used to this, it happens everywhere we go, but if she thinks she’s gonna steal another man from me, she can get fucked.
I slide one arm around Conor’s waist, pressing the other on his chest, and stare up at him with the best bedroom eyes I can manage. “I wanna dance.”
“Lead the way.” Conor leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips before we say a quick goodbye to Max and Jessica and make our way to the dance floor. The second we’re alone, Conor looks down at me with a smug grin. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“You were jealous.”
“What?” I ask incredulously. “I was not.”
“You so were.” He laughs and the sound buries itself deep in my soul. “She was eye fucking me that whole time and you were jealous.”
“I wasn’t jealous.” I try not to laugh, but the corners of my mouth betray me. “I was just making a show of how much I adore you.” He does not need to know that I was jealous. He’ll never let me hear the end of it.
Conor wraps his arms around my waist as mine come up around his neck. Thank God these heels give me the extra height needed for me to do this, otherwise Conor would have had to kneel on the floor. I laugh to myself at the image I’ve painted in my head.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was just picturing you on your knees for me.” Conor’s eyes go wide and it takes me a moment to realize what I’ve said. “Okay, that came out wrong.” We both laugh as we sway to an acoustic version of Heaven by Bryan Adams that’s playing through the speakers.
“All you have to do is ask, pretty girl.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and I shove his shoulders, laughing.
I love how easy it is being with him. I’m constantly smiling when I’m around this man. My stomach does somersaults every time he looks at me. We can talk for hours on end and never get bored. Even just being in his company makes me feel… safe. He makes me feel seen.
“Thank you for doing this, Conor.” I rest my head against his chest as he holds me. “You have really saved my ass tonight.”
“Just think of me as your own personal, hot, wealthy, extremely sexy guardian angel.”
“Ahh, you forgot humble.”
“Add it to the list.”
I chuckle, settling against him as we sway to the music. I can feel his heart thumping beneath my cheek, the fast-paced rhythm matching my own. We step together without thinking, moving in sync, so tuned to what the other is doing.
We stay like this for two more songs, just holding each other. It feels so right, like we have been doing this together forever and it’s scaring the hell out of me.
Conor leans down, his warm breath fanning across the bare skin of my neck. “Max is watching us.” I instantly stiffen. “Keep moving, Angel.”
I do, but suddenly everything feels forced and wrong. I hate that. I hate that hearing his name can still change everything. I thought I felt nothing, but I guess some feelings are harder to shake than others. “Kiss me.” I blurt out before the thought fully crosses my mind.
“Really?”
“Yeah, we’re a couple. We should kiss at least once in public, right?”
“We have kissed in public.” He says as if I’m stupid.
“I don’t mean a quick peck, Conor. Kiss me.”
He brings his forehead to rest against mine and I catch the faint scent of mint from the toothpaste he used before we left the hotel, mixed with champagne. It’s intoxicating. His hands are warm against my waist, his thumb moving slowly over my hip. “Are you sure?”
I should answer him. I should tell him yes.
Instead, I reach up, curling my fingers through the hair on the back of his head and pull him down.
The second our lips meet, the whole room disappears.
There’s no obnoxious laughter of rich men or snotty comments from the other women.
There’s no clinking of glasses or too loud music.
There’s no Max. There’s only him. And me. There’s only us.
His lips move against mine, slow at first, as though he’s giving me every opportunity to change my mind. I don’t. I lean in closer, and his arm tightens around me, pulling me flush against him. Something inside of me cracks.
The kiss deepens, and a shiver runs down my spine. One of his hands is wrapped in my hair, his fingers curling gently into the strands as he tilts my head back. Every nerve in my body feels alive. My heart pounds against my ribs. My stomach twists.
The worst part about this isn’t about how good it feels. It’s how right it feels. Like we’ve been doing this forever. I’m not kissing him because of Max anymore. I’m not kissing him because we’re putting on a show. I’m kissing him because I want to.
Somewhere between the fake dates and stolen glances, the teasing and the arguments, the laughter and the late night conversations, Conor stopped feeling like part of an arrangement. He became a part of me.
That thought hits me so hard that my chest aches.
I force myself to pull away, but the loss of him feels heavy. Resting my head against Conor’s chest again, I try desperately to pretend that kiss didn’t just knock every thought in my head completely off course.
But I can still feel his lips against mine. I can still feel his arms around me. I can still feel the way my entire body reacted to him.
That scares me more than anything. I can’t be feeling like this. Not for him. Not now. Not when none of this is real.