Chapter 4 #2
“I don’t think anything will help me not be sad.
My life is imploding,” I admit, barely above a whisper.
My lowered voice has him bringing his face closer to mine.
My lips part, my breathing shallow. I can smell the alcohol on his breath, and I’m pretty sure the same scent is bleeding out of my pores, along with my self-control.
Mystery Man cups my face and brushes his thumb across my bottom lip.
I have this fierce urge to suck it into my mouth.
Closing my eyes, I allow myself to feel desired by this man whose name I still don’t know.
When my brain not so helpfully supplies an image of Darío’s face, I quickly open my eyes and focus on my surroundings.
In the remaining rational part of my brain, logic is telling me that this is a terrible idea, but I shut that shit down.
Logic has no place here. Alcohol, music, and this hot man are taking up too much space.
“I’m going to kiss you unless you tell me to stop,” he warns me. His mouth is so close to mine that a slight shift would have our lips touching. I have the space of a breath to make up my mind.
His mouth makes contact, and he demands entry with his tongue.
I’m having trouble focusing on anything but this moment, and I’m being consumed.
I keep my hands in my lap, my lips frozen, but I don’t try to push him away.
His persistence pays off, and I feel myself opening to him.
Losing myself in the kiss, I grab the front of his damp T-shirt and move to straddle his lap.
It’s a tight squeeze in the booth, but I swing my leg around, and he pulls me down against his rock-hard erection.
He breaks the kiss, allowing me to suck in air while he moves his mouth to my neck.
I moan involuntarily at the contact of his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.
My body is all heat and need and want as I rub myself against him.
That ever-present voice starts shouting, but I ignore it.
His large hands grab my arse possessively, sliding me back and forth on him.
“Will your friend miss you if you leave?” His pupils are blown, the green disappearing, as we rut against each other.
My head is spinning with this need that I can’t begin to understand, my cock is throbbing, and my single-track mind has me climbing off this man, tugging him toward the back of the club.
“She’ll definitely miss me if I leave,” I confirm as we weave through the crowd.
The hall to the toilets is dark and damp, bodies pressed against each other, with illicit moans filtering above the music.
We enter the poorly lit loo. It smells like stale alcohol, urine, and sex in here.
Ignoring the people around us, we quickly find an empty stall.
We barely have the door closed before he has my body pinned against the wall, his hand gripping the back of my neck.
The taste and feel of this man reminds me again that this is all wrong.
His taste, his smell, the callouses on his hands are all unfamiliar.
I shake my head at the sour thoughts trying to break through my vibe.
I tug at his belt buckle, not allowing myself to think too hard about what I’m doing.
He sucks at my collarbone while I wrap my hand around his hard length.
“Fuck, gorgeous. I want to bury myself in you. Are you going to let me fuck you?”
“Let me suck your cock,” I offer, instead of answering his question.
I make quick work of getting his pants down, and he fists my hair.
The sting has me groaning as he pushes me to my knees.
I refuse to think about why the floor is sticky, swallowing back the bile rising in my throat, and I take him all the way in one swallow.
I run my tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his dick, making him moan.
He doesn’t give me a chance to adjust, instead holding my head as he fucks in and out of my mouth without regard.
“Take your cock out. Make yourself feel good,” he growls, slamming to the back of my throat and holding himself there.
Just as spots overtake my vision, he releases his hold, allowing me to suck in a ragged breath.
Drool is sliding down my chin, and I can feel tears streaking down my face.
It’s unclear if it’s only because of the face fucking I just endured.
I’m not coordinated enough to take myself out.
I’m actually not even sure I’m hard anymore.
I close my eyes as I lick around the head of his cock, the salty precum coating my tongue.
His grip tightens on my hair, as he comes down my throat without warning.
I try to swallow it all, but I end up coughing, sending cum leaking down my chin with drool.
Without a word, I rise and step around him to exit.
He doesn’t attempt to stop me, and I quickly make my way to the sinks.
Shame floods me, the regret coursing through my veins.
I feel disgusting. Avoiding eye contact with anyone, myself included, I wash my hands in front of the streaked mirror.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, reminding me that I have to face Penelope when I step out of here.
My stomach turns, making me retch. It has nothing to do with the alcohol.
Penelope is waiting for me by the exit, her eyes creased in concern that quickly turns to surprise when she sees me. “Harlan, what did you do?” Hot tears start to fall as I approach her. “Did someone hurt you?” The anger and alarm in her voice have me quickly shaking my head.
“Just me,” I mutter. I can still taste the stranger on my tongue as I fight the urge to gag, and the full reality of what I just did crashes down on me. “I need to get out of here, Pen.”
“Ok. We’ll go.” Her calm, no-bullshit tone brings me little comfort. “Lan, you’re making me nervous. Please tell me you’re ok.” She takes me by the elbow and starts to walk us out.
Shaking my head, I quickly exit the club. Once I’ve hit the corner of the brick building, I vomit. Sweat coats my skin, and the smell of the man and the alcohol have me heaving again. I don’t even know who I am right now. “I need to go home,” I rasp. I need to scrub this night off me.
Like the sweet angel that she is, Penny gets me home and in the shower before helping me dress.
Once I’m in bed, I fall apart in her arms as I tell her how badly I’ve fucked up.
I ignore my phone for the night, unable to face seeing Dare’s name on the screen.
I have no idea how I’m supposed to look him in the face on Sunday and tell him that I’ve ruined everything.
Just the idea of hurting him has me wanting to vomit all over again.
I spend the remainder of the weekend avoiding my phone, drowning myself in bone-deep regret.
I left the house long enough to stop by Allegra’s to let her know that I’ll be leaving.
I didn’t say much, but she could tell something was wrong.
She hugged me tightly for a long time. “Whatever’s got you feeling this way, don’t hold it in, baby,” she told me.
“If you need to talk, you know I’m always here for you.
” I thanked her quietly before retreating to the sofa again.
I’ve managed a few texts to Dare, but I ignore most of his calls.
The guilt that eats away at me is too much to bear when I have to hear his voice.
It’s selfish, I know that. He’s clearly worried, but I was afraid that if I talked to him, I’d end up confessing to everything. I owe it to him to tell him in person.
If I had taken sandpaper to my eyes, it would feel better than they do right now.
It’s probable that I’m dehydrated from the sheer amount of crying I’ve done over the last few days.
Penny tried to stay with me, but I made her leave.
No one else needs to witness my shame. I can barely stomach my own company as it is.
No matter how many times I replay the night in the club, I cannot make sense of it.
Not once in the last three years has it even occurred to me that I wanted anyone other than Dare.
I can barely recall the guy’s face, and the thought of him touching me now makes my skin crawl.
The amount of scrubbing myself raw in the shower has done nothing to alleviate the filthy feeling. If only I could scrub my insides.
Dare deserves better than what I did to him. I wrap myself in one of his hoodies and curl up on the sofa to wait for him. I know before he even walks in the door that it’s over. We won’t come back from this. I have destroyed the most important thing in the world to me.