Soaked (The Water's Edge #2) (13 page)

I DROPPED THE
phone. It clattered against the nightstand before bouncing under the bed, still tethered by the cable charging it.

Scrambling to my hands and knees to retrieve it, I put the phone back to my ear, sitting on the floor with my back to the side of the bed.

“What did you say?”

“Check your email—I sent you the link. We nee—”

I disconnected the call. I didn’t need to hear anymore.

Nick.

Fucking Nick.

How could he? I’d trusted him. He pressed the memory card into my palm, but technically, the camera itself had some built in memory he could have utilized.

He sure didn’t waste any time, did he?

Had those images uploaded and distributed in less than twenty-four hours.

And, hell, they’d already reached my friends?

What the fuck did he do—post them to my goddamn Facebook page?

Pinching the useless micro-SD card in my fingers, I dropped it on the tile floor at my feet. I yanked at the lamp on the nightstand, but it must’ve been screwed down or something, because it didn’t budge. I pulled the clock off instead, slamming it on the chip over and over, shards of plastic from the destroyed timepiece flying in chunks across the floor.

Why did every guy fuck me over?

Why couldn’t I ever put my trust in the right place?

Did I have some giant target on me that painted me as an idiot just begging to be taken advantage of?

I banged the largest piece of the broken clock against the floor again, smashing my finger this time. I winced, the skin jagged where a piece of plastic had sliced me. Blood welled up and I sucked my finger into my mouth, tears stinging my eyes.

I gave in to the self-pity this time. I pushed reality away and let the sobs rack my body while the thunder and rain drowned out my gasping breaths and choked cries.

As the storm quieted, so did my tears, until they were a silent, but steady stream leaking from the corners of my eyes. My breath was still ragged as I tried to pull together a few scraps of courage to open the email Rue sent. As if I really wanted to see those private moments splashed across a website for the general public to judge.

That power he talked about? I guess he forgot to mention it transferred to him afterwards.

I climbed onto the bed where my computer sat. Where the evidence of my shame lay waiting to destroy me. The laptop suddenly felt like a viper, coiled and waiting to strike while I was at my weakest.

My eyes burned as I blinked to clear my vision. I powered on my computer, my heart thumping painfully against my ribs. My fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm on the bedspread while it blinked and beeped through its startup routine.

I hesitated with the cursor over the email icon, knowing wherever the link inside led me was going to break me. Shatter me even more than I already was from West.

Biting my lip, I clicked open the program, then followed the link in the email Rue had titled
URGENT!

A popular porn site loaded on my browser. One of the most popular ones I knew of, its cheesy logo in the corner of my screen.

On the top of the page labeled Top Amateurs, I saw it.

A still of myself, draped across a bed, the paper airplane tattoo on my ankle clearly displayed on the bottom of the screen.

But that wasn’t what made my breath catch. Wasn’t what made my hand clench into a white-knuckled fist. Wasn’t what my made my eyes narrow to slits.

No, the bed on the screen wasn’t covered with black silk sheets and surrounded by filmy panels.

And I wasn’t wearing red lace.

And I wasn’t alone.

Stretched out next to me, eyes out of the field of view, but signature smirk firmly in place, was the one man I hadn’t thought about in months. His legs intertwined with mine and he nibbled on my neck, one hand squeezing my ass. My face was visible, tilted toward him, mouth open and eyes pressed closed with pleasure.

The first man who broke me.

Asher Snowdon, the ex-boyfriend I’d left behind when I’d escaped to Reynolds Island. The asshole whose electronic equipment I’d destroyed, dumping it in a full bathtub with laundry soap and bleach. The one who’d planned on proposing to me before I’d discovered that not only was he screwing my photography assistant, but had filmed encounters with both of us.

And shared the videos with his friends.

And, unless this was all just a nightmare, with the whole fucking world too.

I BLINKED, MY
eyes flying over the screen. The flickering red-and-yellow banner at the top of the website screaming CONTEST in block letters caught my attention. Ten-thousand dollars would go to the top amateur porn video with the most votes. From what I could tell, the competition had been narrowed down to the top dozen videos.

And I starred in two of them.

Rebecca, my old photography assistant—and possibly Asshole’s new girlfriend for all I knew—also made an appearance, in a submission titled
Busty Brunette Likes Anal.

Classy.

Mine were called
Blonde Girlfriend Can’t Get Enough
and
Blonde Likes it Rough.

Thirty-six minutes and twenty-three minutes long. Almost a full hour.

Of me.

Naked.

Vulnerable.

Open.

Exposed.

Deceived.

Manipulated.

Violated.

Betrayed.

It didn’t feel real. It was like the girl on the screen—the one who undoubtedly moaned Asher’s name and shuddered under his touch, leaning into his caresses, demanding more, professing her love—was a prior version of me. Sadie 1.0.

Because the current me couldn’t ever imagine a reality that involved this.

Where I would ever welcome strangers to witness the most intimate of acts.

Except that time in the bed of West’s truck at the drive-in, his fingers deep inside me.

Or the time in the stairwell when anyone could’ve walked in.

Or the time in the parking lot, outside of Anchor, just before this trip.

But those were different. The risk of discovery was there, yes. But not outright exhibitionism. Not pimply faced teenagers, jerking off in dirty gym socks, alone in their bedrooms. Or lonely middle-aged men fantasizing about what they’d never have again.

So maybe I lost my mind and my common sense when I was with West. But with Asshole? With our sex scheduled neatly into his day planner and when spontaneity was something
other
people did? No.

I hadn’t expected this.

Hadn’t really known him at all, obviously.

The same way I didn’t know West.

Pushing them both from my mind, I focused on the screen again. I was currently in second and third places. Rebecca’s ass ranked sixth. I shouldn’t have smirked at that, but I did.

Oh, God. What was wrong with me? Had I sunk so low that I was pleased my illicit sex tapes were more popular than hers? But yeah, if I was going to be stuck at the bottom of the barrel, at least I was still higher than her skank ass.

Take that, bitch.

Hovering over the description, I made yet another disturbing discovery. Asshole had given himself a porn name. While I was relegated to my role as Blonde, he’d upgraded himself to Ben Dover.

I doubted he came up with that himself. Cleverness wasn’t his strong suit.

The sheer number of votes cast was mortifying. Five figures of thumbs ups. Pages of comments appeared below each video.

Ride that bitch.

Damn, she’s hot.

I bet she’d like a good spanking. Try that next time?

Would you consider a threesome?

Her cu—

I couldn’t read any more of them.

The crude words strangers felt entitled to make about my body, my actions.

My worth as a person shriveled. I wasn’t Sadie Mullins, the emerging photographer. Or Sadie, the trustworthy friend. Or Sadie, a girl worth loving.

No. I was only a piece of flesh. A pair of tits and a hole to fuck. Some hair to yank, an ass to slap. I wasn’t even worthy of a name, real or fake. I was reduced to simply
the Blonde.

Some chick others could watch, judge, mock, covet, whatever. Just another dumb porn slut, moaning for more.

Numbness filled me, making my limbs heavy and my eyes burn.

I just wanted to get through the rest. See what other parts of me Asshole had given away, parts that no longer belonged to him. If I did it quick, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

Like tearing off a bandage. One quick yank, then it’d be over.

My cursor hovered over the play button of the first video, but I hesitated. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to see which nitty gritty details were bared on the videos. Wasn’t sure I really wanted to watch myself naively offering my body up to the man I thought I’d marry.

Thank God I’d escaped before he proposed.

My eyes dropped lower, noticing a link below the video.

Interviews with the Stars—Behind the Scenes Facts from the Finalists.

No. No no no no no.

It was bad enough my body was on display. Tell me he hadn’t talked about us too.

My hand shook as I selected the one for Ben Dover.

Q: So, Ben. What made you decide to enter this contest?

A: Honestly? I knew had a good chance of winning. And I could use the prize money.

Q: Oh? What do you plan on using it for if you win?

A: I had an unfortunate accident with some of my electronics awhile back. I need to do some upgrading.

Q: Did you make your videos just for the contest? Or have home videos always been a hobby of yours?

A: My girlfriend, the blonde, is obviously hot. And my friends were all single. I made the first ones just to rub it in their faces. Show them exactly what I had that they were missing out on. And then they wanted more. And, honestly, yeah, it was cool knowing they were jerking it to my girl. So I kept filming.

Q: And the brunette?

A: You know, my friends started making some requests. Wanted to see some kinkier stuff. Things I knew my girlfriend wouldn’t be down for. Turns out, the brunette was more than willing to help out.

Q: So your girlfriend was okay with everything?

A: She never knew. A man’s gotta have some secrets. Right?

Q: Ben, you’re obviously a popular man, with three videos in the finals. Tell us—do blondes really have more fun? Or did you prefer the brunette?

A: Well, they were both good in different ways. The blonde, it was deeper with her, ya know? She loved me. Would’ve done anything for me. Well, almost. You saw the video with the brunette. I had to go to her to get some backdoor action. But, hell, sometimes it’s nice to mix things up. Sometimes you don’t want to make love. Sometimes, you just want a good, hard, dirty fuck. So I’d say blondes are sweet, but brunettes are spicy.

Q: Yet the entries with the blonde, at the time of the interview anyway, are more popular. Why do you think that is?

A: Because it was real for her. The brunette—she knew what the deal was. We were fucking. For the camera. For an audience. It was still hot as hell, but there were no genuine feelings involved. The blonde? She was my girlfriend. I knew every inch of her body. Knew how to kiss her, touch her, tease her, take her just right to get the kind of reaction I did. The kind everyone seems to like. And I think it’s that realness that made the difference.

Q: Are you still with her?

A; Not right now. But I wouldn’t be surprised if we ended up together in the end. I mean, seriously, did you see the videos? We’re amazing together. She’ll miss it and be back. I have no doubt.

I threw up a little in my mouth as white-hot rage filled me.

I’d be back? What planet was he living on?

He’d shown his friends. He’d shown the world.

And now my friends—
wait a minute!

How did my friends find out?

I scrambled for my phone, hitting the button that was my shortcut to Rue’s cell.

She answered on the first ring. “Sadie, we—”

“How did you find out?”

“We have other things to worry about right now. We nee—”

“How. Did. You. Find. Out?” My jaw ached I was clenching my teeth so hard.

“Sadie.” Her voice softened. “That’s not what matters here.”

“Tell me.” I had to know.

She sighed and my free hand curled into a fist. “I was at the Wreck, meeting Theo for drinks last night. Aubrey was there with her minions and they were laughing at something on her phone, and I overheard your name so I went to investigate.”

“
Aubrey?!
” My screech was reminiscent of a bird of prey. A hawk maybe, screaming as it dove for the soft-bellied animal it hunted. Except, she was the hawk, and I was the helpless field mouse in this scenario.

“If it makes you feel any better, her iPhone met an unfortunate end in a pitcher of grog.”

I pinched my eyes shut and huffed out a short humorless laugh. “Thank you for that.” Rue would always have my back. Always. At least there was one thing I could count on in my life.