Buy Me, Sir(56)

"You wanted it?"

"Wanted it, didn't want it …  it's a fine fucking line. My dick wanted it, my brain not so fucking much."

Her voice is a choked little squeak. "What did he do to you?"

I smile. "You've seen what he did to me, I just did it to your poor  little virgin friend back there. He pulled my fucking pants down and put  me in a chokehold then rammed his fucking cock in my ass. Only he went  in dry. I at least allowed your friend a little grace."

"He choked you?"

I nod. "Hard. He choked me hard. Fucked me hard, too."

She gasps, stiffens, and I know what she's thinking. I know she thinks I  was violated, which is true. I know she thinks this shit has fucked me  up, which is also probably true, but that isn't it. That isn't why I'm  telling her this.

"He fucked me so hard the tears streamed down my fucking face, and I  came for him. I shot my load in his hand, splattered the fucking wall  with it."

"But you couldn't not … "

I laugh. "Oh believe me, Amy, I could. I fucking wanted it. I really  wanted it. That fucking climax was one of the best I've ever fucking  had. I shuffled out of there with my ass bleeding and my lungs on fire  and my dick still wet with my fucking cum, and I loved it. I hated  myself for loving it, even right there in the aftermath."

She shudders. "It's ok …  to be bisexual … "

"I know it is," I tell her. "It's not that that bothers me. It's the …   seediness. The brutality. The fact that I came with my face pressed to a  wall that stank of piss, with a man that stank of sweat, and I loved  it. I felt so fucking ashamed."

"You had nothing to be ashamed of," she tells me. "It was them."

I laugh again, and then I pull the covers back. Her eyes widen as she  sees the state of my fucking dick. I'm hard enough to fucking blow.

"It's ok to be bisexual," she whispers again.

"My father knew," I tell her. "He followed me outside and clipped me  round the ear and told me never to fucking follow him again."

"He knew?!"

"Of course he knew. He knew I was following him, too. The old cunt set  it up. Nothing happens without my father's say so. Nothing. He's the  fucking real puppet master. He pulls everyone's fucking strings. And I'm  just like him."

"I don't think you are … " she whispers, and it's so sweet. Her faith in me is so fucking sweet. I kiss her head.

"It was the first real time he took me under his wing. He told me I  should be on the other side of the fence next time, the side with all  the power. He paid for hookers and brought me into his rancid network of  rich clients, and taught me everything I needed to know about playing  the system and enabling the rich to do whatever they fucking please as  long as they're willing to pay for it."

"You were just trying to please him … "

"For a time. After that I was all in for myself." I turn to face her,  and her sadness for me is so beautiful. Beautiful but misplaced. "I'm a  sex addict," I tell her. "Or I was. I calmed it down when I got married,  but it was always there, lurking behind the scenes. Claire wanted to  know why I didn't fuck her anymore like I used to. She asked what really  turned me on, what she could do. It was a mistake to tell her the  truth. She insisted I should have therapy. Every time she looked at me,  her eyes were full of pity and disgust." I pause. "Maybe yours will be  too."

She kisses me. She kissed me hard. She tangles her fingers in my hair  and presses her body to mine, and my heart pounds in my chest. "You will  never disgust me," she whispers. "Never. I love you."

She loves me.

The thought makes my stomach twist, but it's beautiful. It's everything.         

     



 

"I hate my father," I tell her. "I hate everything he is. I hate  everything he dragged me into, but mostly I hate myself for becoming  just like him. But that's going to change. I'm getting out."

She strokes my arm. "I'll come with you," she whispers. "Wherever you're going, I'll come with you."

I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Good," I tell her, "because I'll be going soon."





Chapter Thirty-Nine





Melissa



I would give anything to tell Alexander who I really am, but I can't.

I've played him too much. I've lied too much.

My dreams of open arms after a teary confession have shrivelled and died.

He's been so honest, and I've been such a fraud. I thought I knew everything, but I knew nothing.

He'd never forgive me and I know it.

I could die in his arms as he holds me in the aftermath of his  confession. It kills me to know how close I am to having him. How close I  am to making this real.

I have to make it real.

We lie in silence for a long time, just breathing. My hand rests on his  hard cock but he makes no move to thrust against my touch and I make no  move to bring him off.

I wish we could stay here forever, but he moves as the light begins to glow through the window.

"We should go home," he says, and I move with him. Pull my dress on and tug my knickers up and take his hand when it's offered.

He calls a cab before we leave and I lean against him as we wait.

The cards are tumbling down all around me and right now I'm numb to the whole thing. I only have one card left.

One single card left and I'm intending to play it.

I'll hand in my notice tomorrow with immediate effect. I'll say there's a  family emergency, I'll say anything. I'll confess to Alexander that I  lied about my name and say I was worried for my brother. Worried people  would find out I was a hooker.

Maybe he'll believe that. Maybe he'll understand.

Maybe he'll never check his employee records, not since he's leaving himself.

Maybe we'll escape into the sunset. Maybe he'll come to love Joe as I love him.

It's worth a shot. It's the only one I have left.

It's morning when the cab pulls up at his. I'm ready for a few hours'  sleep in his comfy bed before heading home to face the music with Dean,  but as Alexander turns his key in the lock the alarm doesn't beep with  the countdown.

And I know.

Of course I know.

I freeze on the spot as he steps inside, tugging away from him at the horror that Sonnie's already at work in there.

I can't.

Oh God, I can't.

He'll know. He'll know as soon as she stares at me, even if she doesn't say anything …  even if she doesn't blow my cover …

"I have to go," I tell him.

He turns back. "Go?"

"Right now," I say. "I have something on this morning."

His eyes dig into mine, and there's an insecurity there I've never seen before.

"Look, Amy, if I said too much … "

I shake my head. "No! It's not that!"

I hear Brutus padding through the hallway and I hear Sonnie's voice calling him back, and I'm out of time.

"I'm sorry," I say. "It's not that, I swear, but I have to go."

"Go where?"

"I'll see you on Wednesday," I tell him. "I'll be over at eight."

He's still staring as I run from there. He takes two steps in my direction before I'm out of sight.

I don't stop running until I'm on the underground.



Dean's eyes are wild as he opens the door.

"Did you tell him?"

I shake my head and he groans.

He pulls the living room door closed as Joe watches TV with his cereals.

"What the fuck, Lissa?" he hisses. "You said you'd fucking tell him!"

"I can't!" I hiss back. "I just can't! He'd never forgive me!"

"Then what?" he snaps. "My ass is fucking bleeding, Lissa, the man's a fucking animal."

I lean against the wall, my heart pounding in my ears.

"He wants me to go away with him, he's quitting his job and moving away."

Dean's face is a picture of horror. "Away with him? How can you go away with him? He doesn't even know Joe exists!"

"You think I don't know that?!" I snap, and the tears are coming. I try  to choke them back. "I'm going to resign tomorrow, I'll tell him I lied  about my name and hope he forgives me, I don't need to say anything  else, maybe he'll never know."         

     



 

"And what if he does know?" Dean's eyes are like coals. "What if he  finds out you fucking lied about everything? That even your fucking  confession was a lie?"

I shrug. My laugh is deranged through the tears.

"Then it's all fucked anyway." I suck in a breath. "And so am I. I'm fucked without him, Dean. I can't go on. I can't."

He pulls me into his arms and I feel like the terrible crazy bitch I  really am. I feel like hell. I feel like this is everything I deserve  for lying so much and not giving a damn for the consequences. Not giving  a damn about anything but getting into Alexander Henley's bed.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm so sorry I dragged you into this. I'm so sorry for what I made you do."

He breathes into my hair and he rocks me, and it makes me feel even worse to know he still cares, despite everything.