My So-Called Perfect Life

by K. A. Berg

  His pupils dilate, and the blue of his irises darken as he stares at me.

  “Jesus,” he mutters more to himself than me.

  His eyes traverse my now-mostly-naked body as if I’m unclaimed, unexplored territory he can’t wait to conquer. “Do you always walk around in sexy lingerie?”

  I look down at the barely-there white lace panties that match the beautiful bralette. “I was supposed to be moving. Everything, except my luggage for the honeymoon, is boxed up.”

  “You bought this to wear for him on your honeymoon?”

  I nod.

  “That man is a fucking moron,” he proclaims before he pounces on me like a lion on his prey.

  His kiss is hard and punishing as his hands roam all over my body. My skin feels ablaze with an intense heat as he trails his lips down from my mouth to my neck to the valley of my breasts. His hands snake behind me, and he unclasps the thin lace covering my chest.

  “Perfect,” he praises as his thumbs caress the swell of my breasts.

  Things feel a little uneven as I stand before him in just my panties, and Ryan is still fully clothed.

  Reaching out, I grip the hem of his T-shirt and tug. “Off.”

  He reaches back and pulls his shirt off over his head in true hot-guy style. His chest is gorgeous, and I rake my eyes over his tanned skin. There’s a smattering of chest hair in the middle of his pecs. His abs are impeccably defined but not overly done and covered in a thin trail of hair that disappears into his jeans.

  I don’t get much time to look at the intricate tattoo of what seems to be some kind of dragon decorating his arm as he steps back into me, his bare skin now touching mine, setting off sparks underneath my overheated flesh.

  This man has synapses of mine firing that have never fired before.

  And he hasn’t even truly touched me yet.

  “Are you ready, sweetheart?” he asks as his finger slips under the wisp of my panties. The rough pad of his fingertip brushes my clit, and I jump. “Because I think I’ve found your clit. I didn’t even need a map.”

  I want to punch him and kiss him at the same time. “Well, now that you’ve found it, let’s see if you know what to do with it.”

  His growl reverberates off the walls as he grips the crotch of my panties and yanks them off. The skin around my hips stings as he pinches my clit between his fingers, rubbing it between the calloused pads.

  An intense kind of pleasure—one that’s new to me—courses through me as my head lolls back. I moan, and Ryan chortles.

  “It gets better, baby.”

  He drops to his knees and tosses my leg over his shoulder. His tongue sweeps through my slit, and I have to grab on to his shoulder to keep me steady.

  “Holy shit.”

  His tongue moves up and down between my legs, and I’m flying high fast. He slows his pace and circles around my nub before pulling back.

  “Let’s do this right,” he declares as if I’m supposed to know what that means.

  “I know what I said downstairs,” I gasp. “But you were totally doing it right just now. No need to stop.”

  He laughs. That thick, hearty laugh. “If you were happy with that, then you’ll be thrilled with what I’m about to do to you.”

  He scoops me up and deposits me on a couch against the wall. Before I can even try to comprehend what the hell he just meant, Ryan is on his knees between my legs, and his fingers fill me in the most delicious way as his tongue swirls back around my clit. His free hand presses against my lower abdomen, and deep in my belly, I feel the growing of something.

  His fingers work some dark magic inside me while his tongue does the same on the outside.

  In what feels like less than thirty seconds, I’m screaming out his name as I come hard, “Ryan!”

  I hear the jingling of a belt as his tongue leisurely licks me until I come back down.

  “I think it’s more than safe to say, you know your way around a clit,” I huff out as I try to catch my breath.

  He chuckles as he stands. “I never doubted my abilities for a second.”

  Any comeback is lost as his pants hit the floor, and a very nice, very large cock springs out. A cock with a silver glint peeking out from underneath.

  “Is that …”

  “Yep,” he replies with a devious grin.

  “Oh, dear God,” I whisper under my breath.

  Based on his snicker, I know he heard me.

  Leaning forward, I wrap my fingers around the thickness and lick my lips before placing them around his hard cock. My tongue flicks the barbell just under the round head, and I’m rewarded with a hoarse moan.

  I do it again and again until Ryan grabs a handful of hair and pulls me up, taking my mouth. I taste myself on his tongue, and it’s something I never thought I’d like.

  “The only place I’m coming tonight is in your warm pussy, sweetheart.”

  Want. Need. Desire. It all courses through me as I shove him back onto the couch. Straddling his thighs, I grip his glorious cock, line it up right where I want it, and slide down on it.

  “Oh God,” I moan as I feel full.

  I rotate my hips just as Ryan grips them and pushes me up and off.

  “I love your enthusiasm, but we need a condom first, sweetheart.”

  Holy shit. A condom. I totally forgot about that.

  “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I haven’t used them in so long; I forgot.”

  He pulls his wallet from the pocket of his jeans and produces a foil packet. “Good thing I didn’t let you out to jump on the first man you saw then, huh?”

  He turns me around and bends me over. He kneels and runs his tongue through my slit a few times before I feel the hot head of his cock at my opening. I stretch and burn in the best possible way as he slowly enters me.

  His thrusts are unhurried and methodical. “Damn, you feel so good.”

  I moan out something unintelligible as I bask in the way the balls of his piercing massage the walls of my sex. It’s incredible. Pleasure sparks in every fiber of my being as his cock wakes up all the nerve endings in my body.

  There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m going to need to be scraped up off the floor when this man is done with me.

  The sound of a blaring horn wakes me. I open my eyes to find myself in darkness. The streetlamp outside the window is the only light streaming in. And, I’m alone.

  Where the hell is Ryan?

  My body protests as I roll over and sit up. As I look for a clock, visions of what just transpired flash through my mind.

  Fingers. Tongues.

  Pierced cock.

  Many, many orgasms.

  After an experience like that, I would’ve thought Ryan would be comatose. But here I am, in this strange apartment. Alone.

  Where the hell is my purse? More importantly, where are my panties?

  What the hell did I get myself into?

  I feel discombobulated.

  A red light shines in the corner of the room. Twelve-twenty.

  Awesome.

  Ryan hit it and quit it.

  Asshole! What did I expect from a guy who has fuckpad above the place where he works?

  I see my purse sitting on the small table in the kitchen area.

  My legs feel like mush as I push off the bed and walk toward the table. My hips ache, and I need some water. I just knew I was going to need to be scraped up off the floor when Ryan was done with me.

  Jesus, I feel like I ran a marathon.

  There’s no way I’m walking back home at this hour. Pulling my phone from my bag, I open my trusty Uber app to call for another ride home. Two nights in a row. This is starting to become a habit.

  The screen is filled with a slew of texts from my sister and Mercy. Several missed calls from each of them, plus one from my parents.

  I shoot off a group text to Mercy and Amelia, letting them know I’m okay.

  Me: I’m fine. Went for drinks. Made some stupid choices. Ubering back to my place now. Ta
lk to you tomorrow.

  My morning wake-up call consists of a pillow being dropped on my face and Mercy’s voice.

  “Wake up, bitch! You’ve got some ’splainin’ to do,” she says in her best Ricky Ricardo voice.

  “Ugh!” I moan. “Go away!”

  “Nope, let’s go. Get your ass up.”

  I pull the covers up and over my head to hide. “You’re so annoying. What time is it?”

  “It’s ten, and fair warning, Amelia is on her way over.”

  “Whyyy?” I whine, flipping the blanket down off my head. “Isn’t she supposed to be at work?”

  Mercy laughs. “She took the day off because she’s fairly certain her sister is having a mental breakdown since she went out and made stupid decisions last night. You’re lucky she didn’t show up after that text you sent. I’ve been fielding texts from her all morning, asking if I think you’re losing it.”

  I scrub my hands down my face and feel the twinge of soreness between my legs as I sit up. “Why is she so dramatic?”

  “She’ll be even more dramatic if she sees your ass is still in bed at ten. Usually, you’ve already been up for three hours, gone to yoga, reorganized something, or written a lesson plan. If she sees this, you’ll be taken out in a straitjacket.”

  “Can’t a girl just get a night and a morning to herself around here?” I ask, heading to the bathroom across the hall from my bedroom. “In case you guys forgot, my life kind of fell apart two days ago.”

  Mercy stands in the bathroom door, not caring in the least that I’m peeing. Being best friends since freshman year of college kind of takes those boundaries out of the picture. “A girl should call her besties to go and drink with her, so she doesn’t make stupid choices. Especially after her life blew up two days ago.”

  Before I get a chance to respond, my sister bursts through the front door and starts calling out for me, “Where the hell are you, Dani?”

  Now, I have both Amelia and Mercy glaring at me while I pee.

  “Seriously?”

  “What did you do last night?” Amelia demands. “What stupid choices did you make? I swear, if you got drunk and went to Scott’s, I’ll hog-tie you until the crazy bus gets here.”

  “Ew.” I stand after finishing my business. “That would never happen, even after all the alcohol in the world. That piece of trash is dead to me.” I grab my toothbrush and point it at her. “If you go make me a cup of coffee, I’ll fill you in after I brush my teeth. Damn, you two don’t give a girl a break.”

  “Well, maybe if you weren’t acting batshit crazy, I wouldn’t have to take the day off work to make sure you’re okay,” she grumbles, leaving the bathroom doorway.

  “I didn’t ask you to do that,” I call after her.

  Mercy just shakes her head and follows Amelia down the hall.

  I brush my teeth and wash my face before joining them in the kitchen.

  “Have you heard back from Armando?” Amelia asks as she hands me the coffee she made. “You have, like, nothing in here. There’s no cream for your coffee.”

  “Black is fine right now.” It’s what I drank when I got home last night. I wasn’t running out to the bodega at one in the morning for cream. “He called yesterday. I can stay in this unit, thank God.”

  Her brow furrows. “But you haven’t unpacked. Why?”

  “I was a little busy yesterday, making a ton of phone calls and then dealing with Scott. I did the kitchen as you can tell. I started unpacking my clothes around one thirty this morning. Hence why I was still sleeping when you got here.”

  Finishing unpacking my clothes while being pissed about Ryan leaving me alone was the perfect thing to do to try and forget all about him. Lesson learned for going home with some random. At least I’ll never see him again, so I don’t have to face my ejaculate-and-evacuate experience.

  “What do you mean, dealing with Scott?” Mercy asks.

  “He showed up here yesterday around five.”

  “And?”

  They both look at me with expectant faces, so I tell them about Scott and his asinine idea.

  “You punched him in the nose and kicked him in the balls?” Amelia asks, shocked, while Mercy doubles over in laughter.

  “Yep.” There’s a tinge of pride in my voice.

  “I wish I could’ve seen his face,” Mercy adds between her laughs. “That must have been great.”

  “Then, what’d you do?”

  The thought of lying crosses my mind as I think back to my stupid yet incredible decision to sleep with Ryan. I still can’t believe I did that, but at the same time, I want to share it because I picked up one of the hottest men I’ve ever seen and had crazy sex with him. Share-worthy sex. I know I’m not going to hear the end of this, but I’m a woman, and I want to tell my best friends about Mr. Sexy.

  I feel a little dirty though. Maybe not dirty. Slutty is more apropos.

  “Hello?” Amelia interrupts. “Where’d you go? And what did you do that was so stupid?”

  “I needed a drink or something to cool my jets, so I snuck down the fire escape to avoid criminal charges of beating Scott to death. I called the airline to cancel the flights, so he couldn’t take the homewrecking whore on my honeymoon. Then, when I started to feel crappy from lack of food and the heat, I stopped at the first bar I saw, had a few drinks, ate some nachos, and went home with the bartender.”

  Mercy’s jaw drops while Amelia’s eyes widen in surprise.

  “Holy shit,” Mercy gasps. “You went home with the bartender?”

  Amelia is still frozen in place.

  “I didn’t technically go home with him. But I left the bar with him, and he took me to the loft above it. He took my mind off Scott and the tragedy that is my life for a little while.”

  “You,” Amelia says in shock, “went and had a one-night stand hours after kicking your ex-fiancé’s ass?”

  Her surprise is genuine. This is one hundred percent out of character for me.

  I nod in response.

  “How the hell did that happen?” Mercy asks.

  I proceed to tell them about the night leading up to me leaving with Ryan. Mercy looks like she’s watching a soap opera with all the various sounds of shock and surprise leaving her mouth and her variety of facial expressions, ranging from fanning herself to anger when I get to the end.

  “He just left you there?” Amelia asks, outraged. “What kind of an asshole does that? Any of those employees could’ve walked in.”

  “I know,” I agree. “I thought the same thing.”

  “Why are all the hot ones always assholes?” Mercy questions before switching gears to the sex. “Was the piercing all it’s cracked up to be? I’ve never had one before, and I’ve always been curious.”

  I answer, “Sure is.”

  She looks like a kid on Christmas. “Details. Now. Please.”

  “I don’t know whether it’s like that with everyone who has their dick pierced, but this man knew his way around a female body. He knew exactly what to do and where to do it. With his hand, tongue, and barbelled dick. I passed out; it was so good.”

  And then he disappeared. Jerk.

  “I don’t know if I should high-five you or slap you,” Amelia says.

  “You go out and have one-night stands all the time.”

  “But I tell someone about it first. So, you know, I don’t wind up on the six o’clock news because my body was found in the dumpster behind the Korean restaurant downtown.”

  “That’s oddly specific,” I comment.

  My sister crosses her arms over her chest. “So? Doesn’t make it any less of a possibility.”

  “She has a point,” Mercy chimes in. “You want to go and sleep with all the pierced dicks in the city? Have at it, but at least let us know, so next time you wake up alone in a strange place, it isn’t in the back of a van with no windows or a warehouse, waiting for a buyer to come pick up his purchase, okay?”

  I see their point, but I still roll my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay.”

  “He made you come how many times?” Mercy asks as the serious talk goes out the window, and we focus back on the great sex.

  “I lost the ability to count after three.”

  “Sweet Jesus!” she cries while Amelia says, “I’m so fucking jealous.”

  Chapter Six

  Danielle

  It took me a little while, but I finally got Mercy and Amelia out the damn door. There’s still so much to process from this weekend from hell, and I wanted—no needed—a bit more time to myself to do that.

  My body feels less like sludge and more human thanks to my scalding hot shower. Wiping the condensation from the mirror, I stare at myself and give me a pep talk.

  You’re a strong woman. You don’t need Scott. You can move on and build a life that is even better than the one you had planned with him.

  I go through my after-shower routine, finding several small bruises along my hips and inner thighs from all the fun I had last night, toss on some comfy clothes, and head for the remaining boxes that need unpacking.

  My main priority of the day is getting my apartment back to its’ rightful order. There’re two stacks of boxes in the corner of my living room calling my name. At least two of them are the contents of my bookshelf so I start there.

  I love the smell of old books. It brings me a sense of calm and comfort. I inhale deeply as I open the first box. I pick up my copy of Pride and Prejudice and flip the pages before placing it on the top shelf. I pull out a few more and start arranging them in alphabetical order. The whole first shelf is filled with Jane Austen and Charlotte Brontë. I’m a lover of all books but something about the romantic classics appeals to me more than suspense and thrillers.

  Just as I slip Persuasion next to Sense and Sensibility my phone rings out into the quiet. It scares the crap out of me and my elbow knocks into a small stack of books on the shelf sending them to the ground. One lands right on my toe.

  “Ow, shit!”

  My ringtone blares as I bend over to pick up the books and my phone. I grab the George Elliot book, then scoop up my phone. I flip it over and see Scott’s name and photo flash on the screen.