Cheaters Anonymous (4 page)

The next time I looked at him, Brad’s lips were only inches away from mine. His hand rested on my bare knee, causing my heart rate to surge.

“I know you don’t need money, Julia. But I think I can find another way to pay my debts to you.”

His hand slid up my inner thigh, and I held my breath. This was definitely not part of my plan to widen my social circle, and I was pretty sure I didn’t want it, but something inside me erased those worries into nothingness. Brad was definitely one of the cuter boys at school. I mean, he wasn’t Scar, but definitely high up on the totem pole. And I didn’t mind being so close to him at all; in fact, I was enjoying the sudden attention.

As I kept rationalizing in my head, his lips touched mine and his hand cupped my sex. Oh, God, it felt so good there! I could feel his fingers skim the band of my underwear. My body heated and thighs tensed as he brushed his thumb over my clit. I had the urge to spread my legs wider and lower my damp panties, but didn’t get a chance.

“Get your fucking hands off her, Brad.”

I jumped up at Scar’s voice.

Brad pulled away from my lips. His eyes darkened, but he kept his hand on my panties. I shifted, not wanting for Scar to see how someone else was touching me. He stood outside the gazebo and the view below our belts was obscured.

“You better go back to the party, Scar. Julia wants to stay here with me, don’t you?”

“Ahm...”

“She wants to stay here as much as I want her to get raped.”

What?

“Scar, it was just a kiss...” I defended.
One that was definitely leading to a home run.

“Did you hear her, Scar? It was just a kiss.”

Brad shouldn’t have mocked Scar, who took two steps and shoved Brad against the gazebo’s wooden support frame, holding him by the collar. It didn’t matter how many muscles Brad had going for him, they didn’t stand a chance against Scar’s.

“Do you fucking know who I am and what I can do to you?”

There was a long pause between the two of them, and I was sure they were communicating on a level I couldn’t comprehend.

“You fucking better get out of here before I call the cops on you,” Scar’s jaw was so tight, I thought it would snap.

“Like fuck you will. They’ll arrest you for possession.”

Was he talking about Scar’s weed? I didn’t want him to get in trouble.

“Scar, it’s okay.”

“Yeah, Scar. It’s okay.” He leaned into my friend’s face. I wanted to giggle because I knew Scar, and mocking him while being that close when he was upset was definitely a bad idea.

As expected, Scar punched Brad square in the nose. Brad took a swing, and missed Scar’s face but connected with his ear, splitting it. Scar pushed him to the side and out of the way. He stood in front of me, blocking me from Brad.

“There’s something you don’t know about me, Wagner. I always get what I want,” Brad yelled before heading back to the house. The truth was, these spoiled rich kids usually did get what they wanted.

“Are you okay? Here, drink some water.” Scar lifted the bottle he must have dropped on the grass before and handed it to me.

“I think so.” I swayed on my feet. I didn’t think I’d had too much to drink. And I was sure that the alcohol content was minimal. I reached up to his ear. Blood was dripping down his chin and neck, staining his shirt. “You’re going to have another scar.”

“Nothing new.” He showed me that crooked smile. “Jules, Kirk slipped GHB in your glass.”

“What? When did this happen?”
That asshole!

“I don’t know. I overheard him telling Brad you’d be a good lay and that you were his birthday present from Kirk. I wanted to get to you right away, but Sherry got her claws into me, and by the time I peeled her off you and Brad were both gone. Jules, are you hearing me?”

I heard him, but I found my ability to form a decent reply had been stripped away. I could barely understand what he was trying to tell me.

“Scar, I’m not feeling very well.” Everything in front of me blurred. We crossed the property at the side of the house. I must have blanked out for a moment because when I opened my eyes I was on the back seat of Scar’s Hummer as he was starting the ignition.

“Where are we going?” I asked, half conscious.

“Hospital. Are you okay?”

“We can’t. I don’t want to stress Mom out.”

“Jules, you have drugs in your system.”

“I think I’m better. Please?”

He hesitated before jumping out of his seat and coming back around to check up on me. “Are your parents home?”

I shook my head. Mom was out on a date. Zoey was at a friend’s house choreographing a new dance routine, and I was pretty sure that if Mom was out, there was no way that Dad was staying home.

“Then I’m spending the night with you. I’ll sneak out in the morning.”

Scar took a sharp turn. We didn’t live far away, and in the last thirty seconds when he said he’d spend the night with me, I felt all the drugs drain from my system. While there was nothing more that I wanted, I wasn’t sure how we’d make it happen or how I’d be able to fall asleep. My imagination immediately went on its own cruise of him holding me and fondling me the way I’d always imagined.

“Nothing would have happened, Scar. Brad suffers from a PSD syndrome,” I giggled. Okay, so maybe not all the drugs had left my body.

“PSD? Don’t you mean PTSD? And from what?”

“No, I meant PSD, as in, pretty soft dick.”

“Oh, Jules. Don’t talk about other guys’ dicks to me. Wait, did he try anything with you? Was I too late?” he asked, turning around to the back.

“Pay attention to the road. No, he didn’t get that far.”

Once we got home, Scar guided me to my room. He brought me a bottle of water and helped me change into a t-shirt. And I was too woozy to object to being seen in my bra and panties. Scar covered me with not only my comforter but also layers of blankets before kissing my head.

“Where are you going to sleep?” I asked.

“With you. Scoot over.”

He climbed in my bed and positioned himself behind me. Seriously? I felt my entire body stiffen like a surf board as his arms wrapped around me and he brought my body to his, spooning me.

“Don’t worry, Jules. You’re my friend. I wouldn’t try anything with you.”

Too bad.

“I’m sorry he took advantage of you, Jules.”

“Thank you for being there.” My voice sounded slurred and off-tone. “For what it’s worth, he’s the worst kisser I’ve ever had.”

Oh, God! Why was I saying that!

“That’s because you haven’t had a good kisser. If it were me kissing you, you’d melt in my arms. I’d kiss you like you were the only one in this world, and my kiss would last with you forever.”

My muscles tensed up again.

“Relax, I promise not to touch you. Good night, Jules.”

Did he feel how my body froze the moment he mentioned kissing me? And why did it feel so hot under the comforters? I wished I could throw them off just to have Scar closer, beside me. I didn’t want anything separating us. The desperation to actually kiss him made my lips tingle. Or maybe it was still the GHB in my system? My eyes felt heavy and the strength to turn around and test his theory of his being a better kisser drained away too quickly.

“Good night, Scar.” Happy to have his name leave on my last conscious breath, I closed my eyes.

One thing that I learned about Scar that night was that he was the best, best friend, a girl could have. And that he definitely didn’t suffer from PSD.

C
HAPTER
4

Present time

I didn’t know what had possessed me to go to the strip club on my own. It had been almost a week since Scar had appeared at the hospital, and I felt like a zombie. My job became routine, and I kept tuning people out, which definitely wasn’t a good sign for an ER doctor. The past week had been torture. In my mind, I’d been going over every single event that had happened between me and Scar when we were young, as well as during our short reunion in Colorado six years ago where he not only saved my life but also brought me to the most unbelievable climax in my life. Scar Wagner had touched me like no other man ever could have.

The naked perfection I remembered, all covered in paint, brought on sleepless nights. I blamed it on my shift change from nights to days, though secretly I knew that it had been all Scar’s doing. When I finally managed to drift off for a few hours, I dreamt about him snowboarding and then holding my naked body against his the way he had in the cave after the avalanche buried us.

While we never went all the way, the memory of his touch and his fingers playing with me, shattering me apart was as fresh in my mind as if it had happened yesterday. By the time I woke up, I was drenched in sweat and moist between my legs, and every possible muscle in my body ached. For years I’d searched for that same feeling with other men, and could never find it. When I returned home from the hospital, it took a few minutes for me to realize that Scar still had the same effect on me as he had years ago. Curiosity about what he’d been up to grew with each memory. I not only
wanted
to see him again, but I
needed
to see him. My fear of a broken heart had subsided over the past two years. I was a different woman – a stronger woman who no longer needed a man to satisfy her and make her whole. Yet there was a piece of my soul I knew had vanished when Scar disappeared from my life, and I wanted to see whether I could get it back.

Colorful lights flashed inside the club, and the sound of seductive music hummed through me. My body buzzed with anticipation as I scanned the stage and then the bar. My gaze rested for a bit longer anywhere I saw a naked guy. Some habits never died, but at least I didn’t act on them anymore.

Would Scar come out on stage? Was he even working tonight? Knowing that Scar was the last person on Earth I should be seeking didn’t help. He was my forbidden fruit, and if I took a bite, I was afraid that I’d give in to the one sin I’d been trying to stay clear of for over a year. I’d go around the corner looking for a guy to hook up with, hoping he could revive that feeling inside me I longed for – and that was of Scar’s fingers on me and inside me, probing and exploring. The pulsing between my legs throbbed each time I thought about it. To top it off, I was afraid that a one-night stand with Scar would never be enough. While my mind wouldn’t, my body was more than willing to sacrifice the past two years of remission for him. Every cell inside me that craved a man knew how unhealthy coming to this club was, but I didn’t care. The connection I still remembered between us was like an instinct that would never die.

The club was slowly filling up. I chose a table at the back and ordered a bloody Caesar. The men didn’t come on until nine. In the meantime, a booby blonde took the stage and started molesting a pole. She bounced around as if she were a beach ball. Her boobs looked like beach balls too. If it were me, I’d demand my money back for the botched job the surgeon had done. I was pretty sure a pig slaughter would have been more precise.

I should give her a referral to have them fixed.

Self-awareness filled me as I felt someone watching me. I tried to find the source of the heat I was feeling on my face, then my chest, and lastly my legs, but I couldn’t pinpoint where it came from. Was it the drink? Or maybe it was just my nerves? Perhaps after having been abstinent for so long I’d lost my touch. Maybe I shouldn’t have worn my sister’s tight dress. I had shredded the skimpy outfits from my past, and since most of my wardrobe dated back at least a decade and was mostly filled with a rainbow of scrubs, I had dug through Zoey’s closet before coming here.

When I inhaled the smell of vanilla mixed with a hint of paint, the same one I remembered from the hospital, I felt my nipples harden. My mind was definitely beginning to play games.

“What the hell are you doing here, Jules?” I whispered to myself and took a long swig of my drink.

Near the stage, the gathering of women in heat waiting for the men to dance grew larger. The lights dimmed. My gaze flew to the half-naked server behind the bar, and I began doubting my strength. His muscles glistened in the light. He flipped the bottles and poured the liquor as if he were born to the job. I wished the bar wasn’t so high, so I could follow the downward path of that gorgeous valley between his abs a bit lower. The swell between my legs pulsed, letting more of my essence seep into my panties. I squirmed in the seat, hoping to hide my desire for a quick release. Maybe I should have spent more time in the shower this morning. Hounds was definitely filled with some hot man-candy, and I was feeling like a kid with a sweet tooth visiting Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.

Women waved around dollar bills, and brides-to-be drank colorful shots. Bundles of friends got seated for the show and singles – or should I say, women who wanted to appear single – scouted around for a good lay. I knew the look in their predatory eyes too well. I had owned that look less than two years ago when I picked my victim of the night.

Everyone in the club had an agenda, and most people here oozed sex and booze. A few couples sat at the tables closer to the stage, watching the last female perform. And that was when I felt his presence. Fear, or maybe anticipation, froze my entire body. I knew the minute I looked at him I’d regret it. All my invincible thoughts about not getting involved would go up in flames. But when the perfection of a man dressed in a gray suit pulled up a chair beside me, he robbed me of that choice.

He sat casually and reached for my drink. After a sip, he asked, “How many years has it been, Jules?”

Oh, God, he looked even hotter with clothes on than without. Freshly shaven and with a glistening barbell around his brow, I could barely catch enough air to speak. And those hazel eyes I dreamt about captivated me as much as they had six years ago.

Get a grip, Jules. It’s just Scar.
Unfortunately, my internal pep talk didn’t help, and the glass I reached for slipped in my hand. Scar caught the drink before it spilled, inadvertently touching my hand. Sometimes I wondered how people with nerves like mine were allowed to hold a scalpel, but when I put my scrubs on, I was in a totally different world and was a completely different person.