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Grace takes a deep breath.

The girls talk over our stall to each other as they pee.

I place my hand on my girl’s heart and it’s racing, so I lean down and kiss her softly on the lips and whisper in her mouth. “You’re so sexy.”

She cracks a small smile, but her attention is on the girls around us, her eyes darting back and forth at the conversation bouncing off the walls.

“I want to take you,” I continue, grabbing her head and tipping up her chin to make her look at me. “Tell me yes,” I mouth silently.

Laughter erupts next to us.

“Say yes,” I whisper it this time. She closes her eyes and nods.

My hand slides up her skirt and I palm between her legs. A toilet flushes and I lean into Grace’s ear. “Enjoy it, darling.”

I remove the bullet and swipe it over her sweet spot. Her eyes close again, but this time she lets out a small moan. There’s enough noise in here to cover it up, so I keep going, pushing a finger into her asshole as I continue to drag the vibrator back and forth, making little circles around her clit. She’s so wet there’s a small slurping noise, but the second toilet flushes and Grace takes the opportunity to lean back into my chest and pant heavily.

“I’m going to fuck you,” I say, just before the silence takes over.

The water in the sink covers up the sound of my belt being unbuckled and the laughter and joking of the women allows me to undo my pants. They fall to the floor with a whoosh and Grace has the most adorable look of panic in her eyes as she waits for us to be discovered.

But those girls are too busy with their own gossip to even notice. Or they have the decency to ignore it, if they do.

“I’m going to fuck you,” I repeat as the door whooshes open and the three girls exit. “Say yes.”

She nods her head and then whispers, “Yes,” in a very small voice.

I place the vibrator in her hand and then cup her ass, lifting her up as I press her back against the stall door. She wraps her legs around my hips and holds tightly to my neck as I grab my cock and drag it back and forth across her wet opening. It slides in and she moans loudly this time.

“That’s my girl, just enjoy it. Forget everything else but how I make you feel.” I thrust inside her and she bites my shoulder. I take that as encouragement and do it again, making her grunt and squirm against me.

“Fuck, you are so hot, Grace.” I thrust deep, but I go slow. Taking my time. She matches my pace, embracing the moment like I asked, and I reward her with an open-mouthed kiss. Our tongues dance and twist together, just like our bodies and then, just as the bathroom door whooshes open again, she comes. Moaning and biting and writhing as I hold her close and pump her hard until I spill inside of her.

She collapses on my shoulder and I lean in and kiss her neck. “I know you’re on the pill, but I just want to hear it from your mouth.”

“I am,” she says sleepily. Her postcoital attitude is definitely something I love. And then she lifts her head and looks me in the eye as I watch her face. “How do you know I’m on the pill?” Her voice is normal, so obviously she’s no longer concerned about being found out. I peek over the stall door and see no one, so we must’ve scared them off.

I smile as I set her down and then move her aside so I can open the stall and wet some paper towels. I hand them over to her and she cleans herself up. “I know a lot about you, Grace. And if I see you after tomorrow, I’ll know even more.”

I hold out my hand after she’s finished and take her paper towels to the trash can. The door whooshes open and a woman with a name tag on her impeccable pastel-colored suit comes in. “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to—” She stops and puts her hands up when she realizes who I am. And then she shakes her head a little, turns on her heel, and exits.

I look over to Grace, smirking. She’s not amused. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you spying on me? How do you know I’m on the pill?”

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m fucking joking?”

I point a finger at her. “Hey, I’ve warned you about that.”

She slaps my finger down and points one up at me in return. “Have you gone through my things? Because I’m pretty sure you can’t hack into my medical records to see if I’m on the pill.”

I scratch my head as I ponder this. “Which is worse? Rummaging through your things or hacking?”

“You better be joking, Asher, because I’m not.”

“It’s a good guess. All women are on the pill these days.”

“I don’t believe you. And I think you went too far.”

“Jesus, Grace. Can we have one hour without fighting? For fuck’s sake, I hate the constant battle we have going on. Let’s go hit the lazy river.”

“You know
enough
, Asher—”

“And stop fucking calling me that!”

“So back off my space.”

“Fine,” I say as I open the door and almost walk into an orange cone blocking the entrance. When I look behind me there’s a sign on the door that says,
Out of Service
. I look at Grace and laugh. “Wanna go back for seconds?”

She does not find that funny at all, because she pushes past me and walks off.

I let her go work off steam. She’s so combative. I really need to come up with another way to bring her into compliance.

“You done in there, brother?”

Conner is walking towards me, so I shake Grace out of my thoughts and meet him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Dad’s right, you know. You’re gonna get caught. Someone is gonna get you back for all your douchebaggy ways and when that happens, I’m going to sit back and watch the way you do me.”

“Conner, what I do is private and none of your business. What you do is all of our business because you can’t settle down.”

“So I’m a free spirit, so what? I’m cool with it. And you’re such an asshole for bringing up that money. I’m off the ground now, bro. I’m gonna be paying you back soon.”

“Yeah, I was,” I admit. But I laugh anyway. “Dad’s so easy though, can you blame me?”

“You know what, V? You know what your biggest problem is?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I have too much money? I have too many girls?”

“You have it too
easy
. And one of these days, Vaughn, the shit’s gonna get hard and you’re not gonna know what to do. You live this charmed life and you think everything is forever. Money, girls, cars, jobs… but it’s not, brother. It’s finite. Everything and everyone has an expiration date.”

“Whatever.”

“So when your day comes, I do not want to hear your bitching.”

And then he pushes open the door to the men’s room and disappears inside.

I huff out a breath of air and shake my head. Fuck him. He’s just mad because he never made it as an actor and I’ve got blockbusters lined up in post-production for the next year and a half.

And I’ve got Grace. He might be a little jealous of that too, because while Conner can
get
a girl, he can’t seem to keep one.

I never have that problem.

My problem is how to get rid of them.

Chapter Nineteen

#IHaveLostMyMind

W
HAT
the hell am I doing?

This thought runs through my brain the whole way back to my bungalow.

Because I mean, what the hell, Grace? I do not even recognize myself right now. Since when do I let a man treat me like this? And yeah, I get that he’s a movie star, a man I’ve been obsessed with for years—but this?

I admit, I’m not usually one for confrontation and I have a hard time saying no to people. But this is not me. This person cannot be me.

And what the hell was that back there? He planned for me to meet his parents so he could humiliate me.

I don’t care how many ways you look at it, that’s what that was. Pure and simple. He was mad because I can’t be like the sluts he likes to fuck, so he made me pay for it.

Note to self, saying no to Vaughn Asher has consequences.

Right. But so does saying yes. Because saying yes gives him permission to do this shit. Is this what I am? A plaything for a wealthy man? Willing to sell myself to gain—what? What am I getting out of this tryst, as he likes to call it?

Fame? No, certainly not. He wants me to be a secret. Which is fine with me, I’m with his sister Sam on that shit. I have no desire to be in the spotlight with him or as a victim of his fetishes.

Gifts? I huff out a long breath of air. Yes, I have to admit as I look down at my clothes, I accepted a gift from him and I enjoyed it.

And now this whole outfit feels dirty.

I push my key card into the bungalow door and immediately begin taking off my clothes. I fold it all very carefully, sans underwear, since Vaughn still has those in his pocket, and place it all back inside the box. I run my fingertips across the fabric for a moment, enjoying the quality. It’s something I’d never in a million years be able to just buy without guilt over spending so much.

This makes me pause, because I’m like most girls who grew up with lots of limits in place. I want more. I do, I admit it. I want more than just a working a job that takes up most of my life just so I can afford to live in a neighborhood that doesn’t scare the shit out of me. I want to be taken to dinner and given presents to make me feel special. I want all those things.

But the reality of that want is that the men who are capable of fulfilling it are always asking for more than I’m willing to give in return. This present was given to me for the wrong reasons. It was a payoff. It was a consolation. It was a bribe.

Do as I say, Grace, and I’ll give you the things you want.

But do I really want them if that’s how I have to get them? Isn’t getting them part of the journey? Aren’t things like success and money and a nice big house supposed to be the result of hard work, determination, tenacity, and a little bit of luck?

This dress symbolizes all the wrong things for me. It was all luck. There’s no hard work in being Asher’s plaything. There’s no satisfaction beyond an orgasm. I don’t want to be lucky, I want to be good. I want to succeed at more than just following the sexual commands of an ego-inflated movie star.

And I’m ashamed of myself for allowing this to happen. For being drawn in, for being seduced by him.

He seduced me into being someone else.

And it’s got nothing to do with the sex. Some of that is the real me, obviously, since I get off on it. That’s not the problem. The problem is not me, actually. It’s him.

He’s an asshole.

And that sucks because the little dream bubble I wrapped around Vaughn Asher the Movie Star is being shattered right before my eyes. The reality of Vaughn Asher the Man is such a disappointment, my heart hurts.

I sit down on the bed, still naked, and allow myself to feel it for the first time.

My dream man is a huge letdown.

I let the silent tears fall and then wipe them away with the back of my hand.

But he was right about one thing, all we’ve done is fight since we met. In fact, the whole relationship is based on who’s in charge. Not anything personal. And all that stuff he talked about last night doesn’t even count, because I was asleep for most of it and that’s the only reason he said all that. He thought I was asleep.

No, the only thing I know about Asher is that his cock is big, his sexual preferences are exotic, and he gets off making me do things I’d rather not.

I’m young. I’m on the verge of a promising career doing something I actually enjoy. I’m pretty enough, even in my own eyes, to know I deserve more than this. I deserve more than to be a man’s casual plaything. I deserve more than to be a man’s second thought. I deserve the dream. The fairy tale. I’m worth it.

A breath comes out and with it, heartache. Because as much as I hate to admit it, I’m so fucking sad that he’s a dick. I kneel down to my bag and rummage through it to find my last pair of clean shorts and tank top and then dress quickly. I drag a brush through my hair and I’m just about to flop down on the bed when there’s a knock at the door.

My stomach and heart both twist up with that small noise.