Tainted Love (Book 1) (4 page)

I open my eyes to see him staring intently at me, lips parted, breathing lust with every breath he takes. He stands up and strides purposefully towards me, his erection pointing at his target. At me.
Yes!

“I’m going to show you that you don’t run this show, yeah?” he says gruffly, sending butterflies to flight in my belly.
Oh, yes.

We’
re standing in the room, drying ourselves and staring at each other with stupid grins on our faces. I am still glowing from our bathroom encounter. Ben really did show me who’s boss and I soaked up everything he had to give me, although he seemed to have been holding back. As I smile at him, there is a lingering sadness, knowing that I will never get to experience his true nature; the nature I see lurking in the shadows of his hungriest of stares, that commanding presence of his. I want it, but know I can’t repeat with him.

A sense of regret strikes through me and I shake it off, looking away from him.
This is not me at all. I don’t do lovey-dovey or ooey-gooey, but somehow Ben has me giggling and grinning like a schoolgirl who just broke her virginity. It sure feels that way…how sore I am.

I finish blow drying my hair with the compact blow dryer I brought in my handbag. I also take out a short, long-sleeved, slinky, body fitting purple dress
and a pair of silver heels. Ben’s eyes widen in astonishment.

“I always carry just-in-case clothes and a blow dryer
,” I answer his unasked question, shrugging. “You know, just in case.”

I
’m dressed looking at myself in the mirror. Ben stares at me longingly, dressed in his black slacks, black suede hush puppies, white, un-tucked linen shirt and black jacket.

“
I have to see you before you go back to college,” he says.

I laugh at his ridiculous request.
This is
not
what I do, honey
.

“
Ben…” I sigh, pausing to find the right words to say. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. This was just a one-night stand.” Well, at least I’m honest.

“
I didn’t know it was, besides, we had sex three times. Hardly qualifies as a one-night stand, does it?” he contests with a raised eyebrow. He has a smile on his face like he’s won the argument.

“
A one-night stand refers to a specific sexual moment in time that will never happen again. If, in that moment, we have sex once, or three times in this case, as long as I never have another moment in time like this with you again, it’s a one-night stand,” I explain, shrugging my shoulders rather matter-of-factly.

“But shouldn’
t this one-night stand be mutually agreed upon?” Ben runs his hand through his hair, trying to distract me with his dazzling smile. He’s really trying to win this argument and it amuses me.

“No, it doesn’
t. As a matter of fact, I shouldn’t have told you. The other party doesn’t need to know that they’re a one-night stand.” I slip a hoop earring in each ear, watching him in the mirror. He’s smirking.

“
You have an answer for everything don’t you?” He gets to his feet and walks over to me, staring at me through the mirror.

“
Not everything,” I answer, shaking away from him before he can put his arm around me. He doesn’t notice. If he’d gotten his arm around me, I’d have been a goner.

I gather my things and head for the door, opening it wide so that he can go through
first.

“I thought chivalry was for men?”
he asks, amused by my action.

“
I thought it was dead. I’m only reviving it,” I say with a shrug.

He walks toward the door and plants a soft kiss on my lips. What is with this guy?

“You’re such a gentleman,” he teases and runs down the hall before I can slap him. He’s so playful. If only I was better for him, I could see things getting pretty serious between Ben and me. He seems to be a great guy.

Outsid
e I find him waiting on his car: a very flashy silver BMW 6 Gran Coupé. This man oozes money, I swear he does. If I had the slightest inkling to do so, Ben would be my next victim. I’d milk him of his money then leave him when I’ve amassed what I think was enough. But, I don’t know what it is about him. I can’t bring myself to do that to him and that puzzles the shit out of me. I’m not a conscience-having type of girl. I frown inwardly at myself.

“You coming?”
He takes the keys from the valet who backs away eyeing the sleek beauty of his car.

I want to say
I already have, more times than I can count
, but I don’t want to give him anything more to gloat about. Instead, I remain silent as he saunters around to the driver’s side and awaits my answer.

“Joélle’
s isn’t far from here. I can walk,” I answer, smiling and securing my gloves over my hands. I clutch my trench coat with the fur inner lining tighter as the winter chill passes over me.

His eyes squint and
he exhales as if exasperated, “You are one difficult young woman.” He opens the car door and throws his bag in, not taking his eyes off me. Ben looks at me deeply for a few seconds as if trying to get a mental fill of me.

“
But, I like it,” he says after a beat.

I look away blushing.
Fucking blushing! I’m so glad to be rid of this guy. He’s turning me into…a girl. With feelings. I shiver at the unwelcome thought, not willing to go there with any man. By the time I turn back to him, he’s slid inside the car and started it. I wave at him as he drives off and he honks his horn in response.

Taking a fortifying breath and trying to get Ben Hayes rid from my memory, I head in the opposite direction. Not aware of my surroundings, I bump into the young valet. He looks about my age and seems to have been locked in a daydream about the BMW.

“I’m so sorry, miss,” he apologizes nervously, fumbling, trying to get me upright as I almost fall.

“
It’s fine. I’m fine. You okay?” I'm finally standing and I’ve got my hands on his firm biceps.

We gaze at each other for a moment. His
ocean blue eyes are enchanting. His sun-kissed blonde hair is unruly in a very sexy way. His lips are plump and alluring. He’s caught me off-guard; need to get back on the offensive.

I look down
then slowly gaze back up through the hair that fell over my right eye, I smile coyly at him. I feel him tense. I go in for the kill, staking my eyes on him in a seductive stare. He’s frozen.

“
Um, I-I-I, uh, fine,” he stutters, trying to assemble a complete sentence.

“Well, you have a good day now,”
I bid him chirpily as I squeeze his arms and smile. I feel his shudder and hear him draw a sharp breath in. My smile grows wider.

I walk away with confidence, ensuring that he enjoys the view.

I’m a temptress and I love that power.

As I make my way to Joélle’s, I breathe in the cool Philadelphia air, puffs of misty breath coming from my mouth as I exhale. Philly is always coldest in January, but today seems to bring something milder our way. I clutch my coat to me as I make my way along Walnut Street.

Philly had been a welcomed change for me. No one knew me and it was easy for me to change my name and fit right in. There was nothing to hold me to this place as Denver and New York had; no one to fall in love with, no one to take advantage of me, no one to hide from and no one to
love and lose. I shake off the memories of all I had been running from in New York and all I had lost four years ago, wanting to leave my past, and everything it represented, behind me.

I loved New York and its fast-paced, ultra chic lifestyle. And as much as I hated to admit it, I missed my parents. But it had to be this way. New York and I parted ways terribly, but if I wanted to rid myself of my past
, this was how it had to be.

The only thing I carried from my past was Rachel.

She told me she would follow me to the ends of the earth if she had to, just to keep me safe. She is my guardian angel. My protector. My best friend. I couldn’t imagine going through half the stuff I went through without her. I would have succeeded in my first suicide attempt if I didn’t have her.

I shake off the memory, not wanting to drudge up my harrowed past before I sit to dine with my best gal. I hear my ringtone and it’s enough to distract me.

“Hey Rae,” I say in a sing-song voice.

“I’m at Joélle’s,” she snaps. Rachel
is a master of time. Lateness is a pet peeve of hers.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’. Keep your
thong on.”

I look up and down the street before crossing and continuing up Walnut Street. I blush as men whistle at me and give me flirtatious glances. I enjoy that kind of attention.

“You’ve got five minutes before I kick your ass,” she threatens; a threat I take seriously. I know better than to piss off Rachel.

“I’m less than two minutes from Joélle’s, I swear. Just secure our seating in the
meantime.”

“Fine,” she snaps, hanging the phone up.

Just as I’m about to drop my cell phone inside my bag, it rings again.

“Rae, I really am less than two minutes away.” I don’t know why she never trusted my word when it came to time
. Maybe because I’m always late?

“You heartless bitch.” The gruff voice on the line annoyed me.

“Yes, Paul?” I answer exasperated. He had called me three times the day before begging me to take him back, so this was a new greeting.

“I gave you everything,” he breathes menacingly, but it is obvious he is hurting.

Paul is just one of the many rich guys I dated. We were hot and heavy for eight months and I told him I was in love, but it was only a ruse to get to his money. I had to finish my degree and with no job and no parents to help finance me, I had to find a way.

I use my lustful body, seductive eyes and smile always to my advantage. Call me a high-price hooker if you want, I get mine.

“What do you want Paul?” I bite out. My New York accent chips in as I call his name. It always did chip in when I got angry.

My adoptive parents tried their hardest to culture my speech when they adopted me at
ten years old. As much as they tried to seem laid back, they were high society folks, so everything had to match a certain kind of standard, including my speech. It worked, but every so often I’d get angry.

“Why are you breaking my heart, doll?” he asks, almost weeping.

Paul was always a softie. He was easy to fool and so made it easy for him to fall for my charms. I know, without a doubt, that if I were to tell him I wanted him back that he’d take me with arms wide open and money in my bank account. He’d given me anything I wanted when we were dating, believed my hard-luck stories of struggling parents and being the first one in my family to go to college, blah-blah-blah. I made sure that in the beginning it wasn’t about money so that he could see my “heart”. After that, it was to manipulate him. He’d even paid my second-to-last semester’s tuition at UPenn. It was a done deal between him and me; really, I just got tired of the clingy, whiny bastard.

While dating him, I amassed over six grand in my bank account to add to the four grand that was already in it. By the time I’d started dating Paul I’d had six high profile relationships in four years at 23 years old.
Some people worked for what they had, I just worked what I had.

One of those relationships proved fruitful as he
’d got me into UPenn, paying my first year’s tuition. Jared was my longest relationship and I can honestly say that I was in love. We dated for a year before he died in a horrible plane crash, a flight I should’ve been on. I inhale deeply, batting away the unpleasant memory. He was my all. I can’t even think about him without tears threatening. God, how I miss him.

“Please, babe, come back to me,” Paul begs, breaking me from my reverie.

“Paul, please.” Exasperation lines my tone. “I’m done. We’re done. You’re too clingy and needy and I don’t need that right now.”