Wicked Angel Page 11

  But I give Brandon a nod before tucking the address in my back pocket. It’s the least I can do.

  CHAPTER 17

  Benjamin

  The two bottles of liquor tucked into a brown paper bag setting on my front passenger seat clink together as I take a right-hand turn onto the street where I live. When I left my house half an hour ago, my intention was to run to the grocery store for some food. I made it as far as the liquor store, deciding to drink my dinner instead. This is surprising given the copious amounts of alcohol I drank last night.

  Apparently, getting drunk was exactly what I needed. By the time I stumbled out of the club and into an Uber to take me home, I wasn’t thinking about Cassidy, April, Elena, or anything else. It was a quiet, drunken bliss inside my head.

  I don’t have any surgeries scheduled tomorrow so I have no qualms with getting stupid drunk again tonight. I suspect this is more to keep thoughts of Elena away at this point since I have successfully made it past Father’s Day, but whatever.

  Thank fuck Elena wasn’t at The Wicked Horse last night. Jerico surprised me with his personal knowledge of her schedule of attendance at his sex club. She never went on Sundays because she spent that day with her family. And why wouldn’t she? Elena is incredibly family oriented. Another reason we don’t belong together.

  I’m not sure what I would have done had she shown up last night. Would I have stood by and watched her fuck someone else? I had no right to deny her. Yet, I feel like I might have made a scene. Not from the alcohol… but from something deep inside me that still believes she’s mine. Inherently, I know I would flip out if another man even looked at her, much less touched her.

  Sadly, it’s not an acceptable way to feel—nor is it fair.

  That means I need to stay away from the club. She still has a couple of weeks left on the thirty-day membership I got her. My plan is to stay out of there until her membership expires, and I hope to hell I never run into her there again.

  Well, that’s not exactly true. Every part of my being wants to run into her again. Be with her again. Be inside of her again.

  Over and over again.

  But the cost is way too high. The vulnerability and the way she strips me bare comes with too much risk of pain. It does too much to make me remember the loss I’ve already suffered, and I don’t even want to consider a loss that could occur if I got tied in deep with her.

  These thoughts preoccupy me so much it barely penetrates there’s a car in my driveway as I slow on approach. It’s a nondescript charcoal-gray car I immediately recognize as Elena’s. At the end of every evening with her at the club, I’d escorted her back to that same vehicle.

  One night, as I’d been kissing her goodbye, it had turned hot and heavy between us. I’d ended up hiking up her skirt, bending her over the hood, and fucking her hard from behind. Luckily, only one other couple had walked by us during our interlude. They’d been club members, so it hadn’t been awkward in the slightest as they moved past us, even with their eyes glued to our straining bodies.

  The thought of that night—boldly taking what I wanted without a care in the world—makes my dick twitch. Regrettably, it only gets more interested as she steps out of the car. It quickly lengthens behind the zipper of my pants, my breath turning ragged as I take her in.

  I maneuver my car in beside hers, letting my gaze rake her over without shame. She’s incredibly beautiful in just a pair of jeans with rips across the thighs and an off-the-shoulder white blouse. With her hair in a ponytail, she looks fresh and innocent.

  Why is she here? How does she even know where I live?

  And why in the fuck is there a feeling of joy bubbling up inside me when I have firmly decided, without equivocation, that she is simply no good for me?

  It’s with resolve I exit my vehicle and move around the front so I can meet her head-on.

  “I’m sorry for just showing up,” she rushes to say as we come face to face, her expression wary and slightly fearful even.

  Oddly, I don’t even have an ounce of anger she could be some weirdo stalking me. However, my curiosity shines through. “How did you find out where I live?”

  I mean, it wouldn’t be hard. Property tax records and all.

  Which is why I’m surprised when she replies, “Your medical partner, Dr. Aimes. I went to your office today because I was worried about you. He told me where you live.”

  I’m going to fucking kill him. Not for the invasion of privacy, but for putting her back in my path. For tempting me with something I’ve already decided is no good.

  Elena crosses her arms and tilts her chin up, giving me a harsh glare. “Why did you ghost me?”

  I’m not prepared for her simple question. I’d expected it to be recriminations first, but it appears she just wants a straightforward answer.

  “I’m sorry,” I say sincerely. “I should have canceled.”

  Fire flashes in her eyes, and her jaw locks. “Explain,” she corrects with an icy look. “You should’ve explained.”

  “It’s complicated,” I say, painfully aware of how lame my excuse is.

  Elena throws her arms out, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Yeah, I figured out you’re a complicated guy. Knew it from the get-go, Benjamin. That’s not really an excuse.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” She’s right, of course. There was no good excuse for standing her up. But if I am going to hold true to the life I’ve been living since the accident, I don’t owe her an explanation.

  It’s over. She should’ve taken the hint.

  Regardless, I feel like I need to offer another apology. “I’m terribly sorry. But it’s just not going to work, and I hope you can accept that.”

  I start to move past her, realizing my precious liquor is still in the front seat of my car, but I need to get away from her right now more than I need to start drinking.

  “I know about your wife and daughter,” she says, and I freeze in place.

  Pain lances through me, and I’m paralyzed. My throat moves, but no sound comes out. I can’t even turn to face her.

  “And I’m so terribly sorry, Benjamin.” I don’t hear her move, but I sense her right behind me, then feel her soft hand on my back. “I can’t even imagine going through what you did or what it must feel like.”

  I welcome the flush of anger her words cause, and I wheel around on her. “And you what? Thought it might explain my motivations?”

  She’s not cowed in the slightest. Merely lifts her chin a little higher. “Does it?”

  Another flash of fury moves through me, white-hot now with the need to make her understand me. My hand flies out to snatch her by the wrist. I turn to my front door, then drag her along behind me. “Come with me.”

  I haul her right up to my house, not slowing my pace even though she has to run to stay in stride with me. After I unlock the door, I pull her in behind me, releasing my hold once we’re inside.

  “Look,” I order, sweeping my hand toward the interior of my home.

  Her gaze moves around my living room, taking in the gloom and the covered furniture. The bare walls. The empty shelves. The darkened kitchen with nothing on the counters.

  I put my hand on her back, then push her through my house down the hallway where I point to a closed door. “That’s my daughter’s room. I haven’t even opened the door since I came home from the hospital.”

  She makes a small sound of distress, but I ignore it, propelling her farther along. I point to the master bedroom. “That’s the room I shared with April. Been in there a few times, mostly just to move my stuff out.”

  I glide my hand up her back, curl around her neck, and physically turn her to the guest bedroom. Throwing the door open, I point inside. “This is my existence now. It’s simple. Within these walls, I don’t dwell on my past.”

  I hope my answer makes everything clear. It should be fucking clear. I am a man without anything important in my life. I don’t need anything past what I have right now.

 
; I turn slightly, dip my head, and take her in. Her face is strangely blank, as if she doesn’t understand anything I’ve just shown her.

  She tilts her head. “But why did you cut me out? Nothing you’ve said or shown me explains that. We had a connection, Benjamin. I know we did. And we made that connection even though you’re living this existence.”

  My anger dissipates almost immediately, and I give a rough, ragged sigh. Scrubbing my hand through my hair, I admit, “Yes, we did have a connection. I hadn’t had one in a long time.”

  “Then why?” she demands. “Why did you just decide it was over?”

  I shrug, not because I don’t know the answer. I just don’t want to admit my weaknesses. “Because it ran its course. There was nothing more to it.”

  I don’t know if I should be amused when Elena actually stamps her foot and puts her hands on her hips while growling, “Bullshit. You said you don’t dwell on your past, yet you live in this ghost house.” I find I have to hide an unwanted smile at her show of temper, and it only pisses me off more.

  “Don’t you dare judge me,” I growl.

  “I don’t,” she retorts. “I pity you. If you could just take a step and move past your fears, you could be happy again.”

  There is no holding my roar of fury back. “I don’t want to be happy again. Don’t you get it? I don’t deserve it. April and Cassidy don’t have the chance at happiness, so why should I?”

  Elena’s face softens, and I hate the look of sympathy. “You’re wrong about their happiness. They’re both in heaven. Happy and peaceful. They’re probably sad over what you’re doing to yourself, though.”

  I can’t help but sneer. “What do you know about it?”

  Her expression is incredulous, as if my question is senseless.

  “I go to church,” she replies with quiet confidence. “I believe in God, and I have faith we’re all rewarded after we die.”

  I give a dismissive wave of my hand. “It’s a farce. There is no God. If there is, he’s not the loving deity you all worship. He would never do what he did to my family if that were so.”

  “He would if you had a different purpose,” she says softly, but her voice contains surety. “If they weren’t your end goal. Maybe they had fulfilled their purpose. Maybe they deserved the light and peace and joy. This world is hard, Benjamin, as you well know. April and Cassidy are not suffering anymore.”

  I’ve had enough. I don’t need to hear this bullshit. Iciness filling me, I point down the hallway. “You need to go. I’m tired, and I have an early day tomorrow.”

  She takes one last stab at getting something from me. Her tone sounds desperate. “So that’s it? You’re not going to talk about it anymore?”

  “You need to leave,” I repeat.

  It causes me true pain when I see sorrow flash through her eyes and a certain regret for ever having met me. In this moment, I realize I’ve truly hurt her, and I never wanted that.

  “Do you mind if I use the remainder of the membership at The Wicked Horse?” she asks, and I don’t detect a single shred of her seeking vengeance in that request. I don’t think she’s asking to get me to change my mind or hurt me, but rather as a means for her to move on.

  My jaw locks, but I manage to grit out. “Of course I don’t mind. Enjoy.”

  Her chin lifts, a clear indication she’s resolved about accepting the end of our agreement. “I will. Thank you.”

  So polite. That’s how it ends between us.

  She turns around and walks down my hallway, then through the kitchen, into the living room, and out my front door.

  CHAPTER 18

  Elena

  “It’s a dumb idea, Elena.”

  Jorie’s words resound in my head even though she said them to me well over an hour ago. It was a short phone conversation where I’d told her I was headed to The Wicked Horse. In my mind, I could see her lips pursed in dismay and her head shaking slightly in admonition.

  She doesn’t like I’m using the sex club to get over Benjamin or that I feel the need to get over a man in such a way.

  “You weren’t anything to him, Elena, so why should he be so much to you?” she’d asked.

  I wish I knew the answer to that. Wish I could explain how hurt I am he called things off between us.

  The irony we fell victim to the same things we were both trying to avoid sits heavily in my stomach. We had both closed ourselves off to true intimacy. To us, sex was a release. It didn’t involve feelings. It was why we’d gone to The Wicked Horse in the first place.

  But we’d both been affected by the other. I suspect Benjamin ended up letting himself go, opening himself up to his feelings, then got scared from the sensation. I’d also opened up, slightly willing to start believing not all men were the same. While I was scared, I was still willing to push forward.

  And therein lays the difference. Benjamin simply isn’t willing to do the same.

  And it hurts.

  A lot.

  The only way I know to move past him, rather than moping over him, is to get back in the saddle again.

  Or… on a cock for a cruder perspective.

  It’s time for the old Elena to return, immersing herself in pleasures of the flesh and locking her heart away tight once again.

  Even though Jorie urged me to wait a few days, I don’t understand what difference that would make. I won’t feel any different tomorrow or the next day. I will continue to partake in the pleasures offered at The Wicked Horse as I have always done using the temporary membership she’d bought for my birthday. In my mind, there is no solid reason to wait.

  Yes, I’m going to fuck Benjamin right out of my existence. And I don’t have a single qualm about it. It’s not like it would hurt him. He’s the one who broke things off.

  He’d said we had run our course, so it was time for me to chart a new one.

  I strut through the club, confident in the way I look. After I left Benjamin’s house and he had given me full permission to use the club, I went shopping and splurged on a sexy new dress. I then went home and pampered myself all afternoon by taking a luxurious bath and giving myself a pedicure and manicure.

  Taking my time, I styled my hair in gorgeous, sexy waves, then expertly applied my makeup to accentuate my eyes, cheekbones, and lips.

  I’m a fucking knockout and I know it, hence the reason for the strut.

  The dress I bought is mint green with a slight silver shimmer throughout. It has a low-cut halter top and a form-fitting bodice, and it drops to just below my ass cheeks. A pair of four-inch silver sandals complete my ensemble. I’m going to get laid well tonight. There’s no doubt about it.

  I make my way to The Silo, refusing to give in to the small twinge of guilt simmering low in my belly. The Silo had been my choice because it’s where I get the most worked up, and I know it won’t take me long to find someone in there. The Silo is not about sensuality or slow arousal. Rather, it caters to those who like hardcore, fast fucking and dirty kink. I shove the kernel of guilt down even farther because it’s unfair Benjamin can make me feel this way. I resent it. We don’t owe each other anything at this point. No loyalty, no dues. Certainly no more care, concern, desire, or lust.

  Tonight, I’m going to purge him from my system—hopefully with multiple amazing orgasms.

  For a Monday night, it’s crowded in The Silo. So many beautiful men and women to play with. So many toys to use. Jorie’s brother, Micah, makes some of the sex toys showcased in here, which goes to show there are many things people can do with an engineering degree.

  As I wind my way through the crowd, I nod at several people I know. There’s an oval bar in the middle of the room, and I take a seat on the far side so I can watch the action in the glassed-in rooms. When I plop my butt on the seat, my skirt rides up so high half my ass hangs out, but it doesn’t make me feel self-conscious. If anything, having my body on display makes me feel even sexier, as does knowing someone will want me tonight.

  I order a d
irty martini, letting my eyes roam around the room. There are a few men I’ve been with over the past few years here. If I want, there are solid repeat potentials available. It would cut out any small talk. The man across the bar has a solid knack for hitting my G-spot with his fingers, creating an orgasm unlike any other.

  That could be nice tonight.

  I move my gaze beyond him, latching on to two men entering the room.

  They’re both tall and intensely good looking, and I realize I know one of them.

  August Greenfield.

  He works for a company called Jameson Force Security, which is owned by a man named Kynan McGrath.

  Kynan is a former member of this club who I’d been with once before and it was a “once” I’ll never forget. Kynan was well known by many of the ladies and even some of the men because he’s adventurous and pretty much spent all his free time here. But he’s now firmly off the market, engaged to actress and singer Joslyn Meyers. They both now live in Pittsburgh where he moved to open up a new headquarters for Jameson Force Security.

  August locks eyes on me. He and I have exchanged flirtations—a.k.a. dirty talking—but we’ve never done anything. Not from lack of desire, but rather from no opportunity. Each time we’ve met up, one of us had already made solid plans with somebody else.

  His gaze runs over my body, and it’s obvious he likes my dress. When he nudges the man with him, they both move my way.

  August has brown hair with a reddish tint and brilliant green eyes. He’s tall and lanky, but the sexiest thing about him by far is his mouth. His lips are full, and he has a set of sexy dimples that always seem to be pitted with amusement. He’s devilishly handsome with a confidence that only lends to his attractiveness.

  The man with him is just as tall, but he’s built twice as wide. He has on a pair of dark gray dress slacks and a formfitting black button-down shirt that seems to have been custom made to fit over his bulging muscles. He’s got raven-black hair and crystal blue eyes that seem to penetrate straight through me.