The Face of Scandal

by Helena Maeve

  She didn’t. Ward was still watching them.

  “You’re not going back to sleep, are you?” Hazel purred.

  “Not if you paid me.”

  With a sudden burst of energy, he kicked off the covers, exposing Hazel and Dylan to his gaze. Arousal shot through her at the thought of what their bodies must have looked like, drenched in moonlight and sweat.

  “Couldn’t even wait to take your clothes off,” Ward murmured, at once chiding and appreciative.

  Hazel shook her head. With Dylan and Ward to flank her, there was little chance of getting cold during the night. She had borrowed a T-shirt from Dylan’s dresser anyway, only to have it pushed up to her armpits when Dylan had rolled her over and pressed inside her. She knew he still had his sleep pants on, the washed-soft cotton brushing the backs of her thighs whenever they moved together.

  “Damn right.”

  Seemingly content to watch, Ward ran a hand up the length of her bare leg from knee to hip. The caress was enough to ignite another shiver of delight in Hazel’s bloodstream, cunt pulsing around Dylan’s erection.

  “Spread your legs,” Ward rasped and that definitely didn’t qualify as gentle even if it fell short of his usual, harsh orders.

  Hazel raised her knee, rotating from the hip to hook her ankle behind Dylan’s calf. She fumbled for balance for a moment or two before digging both hands into the mattress, steadying herself. Dylan’s thrusts faltered as they adjusted around one another, but not enough to stop. The insistent, feverish pace picked up within seconds.

  When he spoke, his growled taunt wasn’t for Hazel. “Like what you see, old man?”

  Ward glanced over her shoulder to Dylan. “That pretty pussy filled with your cock? What’s not to like?”

  If this was his version of upping the ante, Hazel was almost tempted to ask him to keep going. She didn’t mind the attention one bit, least of all when Dylan’s cock twitched inside her as if in agreement. Dylan palmed her breast, kneading and pinching as he slammed their hips into sudden, delicious contact.

  “Putting on a show for me?” Ward clucked his tongue. “You shouldn’t have.” Never one to be left out, he trailed a hand down Hazel’s belly to cup her cunt. “Mm, looks like he’s doing something right. He’s got you dripping. You like that, sweetheart?”

  Hazel nodded, arching her neck as he loomed just out of her reach. The struggle was familiar, even if their tender hands on her were not.

  Ward brushed her labia with his lips. “You want to come for me?” He parted his fingers over her splayed folds, slick sounds rising from below as he stroked her slit with his palm. “You’ll get him off with this gorgeous little pussy?”

  Too far gone to speak, Hazel whimpered her acquiescence. The next brush of his fingers along her cunt sent her into a tailspin. Flames ignited at her core, lashing out with every jagged thrust. She was aware of Dylan rasping out curses in her ear, but only dimly.

  Her muscles clenched around him, throbbing as she rode the tumultuous waves of her climax. Ward stroked her throughout, desisting only when Hazel clasped his wrist in a trembling hand. He obeyed.

  Exhausted, Hazel rolled away from Dylan and dropped down to the mattress on her stomach. Aftershocks sparked deep within, drawing out her climax for long minutes.

  “That’s it. You’re my new alarm clock from now on,” Ward ruled.

  “Mm, one more reason to keep me around.”

  Behind her, Dylan sighed, stretching out his limbs. “No complaints here. I’m not the one with the blue balls…”

  Hazel pushed herself up onto her elbows in time to see Ward shoot Dylan a surly glare. She had to pinch his biceps to distract him. “Hey… What do you need?”

  “Nothing, I’m good.”

  He’d answered too swiftly to be sincere, so Hazel didn’t feel too bad about reaching between his legs and palming his cock. Sure enough, he was rock hard, the fabric of his black boxers already sticky with pre-cum. “Let me get you off,” Hazel entreated. She was used to begging, yes, but flirting was a constant work in progress.

  At least Ward was obviously interested. All that was left was plowing through the mire of his objections.

  “You could watch,” he offered quietly. His throat worked. “Both of you.”

  Oh. Hazel dithered for the space of a heartbeat before she gave his cock a parting squeeze and sank back to the bed. Dylan settled behind her, the condom already disposed of. The moment stretched between them like a trip wire, until Hazel thought Ward might change his mind and abort the whole thing.

  You love him, she had accused him once, so do something about it. With everything they’d been through lately, perhaps it was only natural to wind up here, breaking the final taboo.

  Ward settled back against his pillow, half a foot between him and Hazel, and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers. His erection sprang out, stiff and flushed against his belly.

  Hazel swallowed at the sight of him. It no longer shocked her to find how deeply turned on she got just at sheer sight of his naked body—or Dylan’s. If they thought she was hot without her clothes on, then the reverse was equally indisputable. The fine dusting of blond hair on Ward’s pelvis made her yearn to touch.

  She only barely managed to restrain the impulse and look on as Ward did it himself.

  His hands were bigger than hers, palms wide and soft. Hazel imagined that the slick of her arousal still clung to his fingers as he wrapped a fist around the base of his cock and languorously tugged it up to the tip. A bead of pre-cum sheened in the faint light that spilled through the window. Ward swept it down with a smooth stroke, arching his hips into the movement.

  Still shivery from the afterglow, Hazel pinched one of her nipples to banish the urge to finger herself to another orgasm. The boys wouldn’t stop her, but it would detract from the show Ward was putting on. She didn’t want to miss it.

  “Does it feel as good as it looks,” Dylan wondered, “when he’s inside you?” His whisper was so soft, lips nearly pressed snug against her ear, that the question became a secret between the two of them.

  “Yeah…”

  She didn’t have to imagine the delicious stretch of Ward’s thick length spearing her open. She had enjoyed it often enough. Her mouth watered as Ward slid his other hand down to cup his testicles. He rolled and pulled them away from his body in a rhythm designed to bring himself the most pleasure.

  It almost seemed as though he had forgotten his audience until he opened his eyes and fixed Hazel with a heated gaze. His previously slow, decadent strokes lost their lazy cadence. He had settled into the pace, embracing the exhibitionist’s part, and now he was racing for his own climax.

  “That’s it,” Hazel heard herself goad. “That’s right, babe, come for me. Let me see you.”

  In the split second delay between her pleas and Ward’s body seizing as he found his peak, he darted a glance over her shoulder, to Dylan. Whatever he saw in his friend’s eyes was enough to shatter what remained of his fragile self-control. He jerked so violently that Hazel started against Dylan, unable to look away.

  Cum dappled Ward’s chest and belly, slicking down his cock with the last quaking strokes. He was utterly spent, a vein throbbing on his pale brow. It didn’t stop him grinning, cocksure even in breathless release. “How…how was that? Everyone jealous?”

  Dylan snorted.

  Hazel made do with flicking her fingers against Ward’s shoulder. “Watch that ego, wise ass. It gets too big and you’ll have no room for us.”

  “Wouldn’t want that,” Ward teased.

  “No,” Dylan said, pressing a kiss to Hazel’s shoulder. “We wouldn’t. Shower or coffee?”

  Hazel cut her eyes to the alarm clock. “Post-coital sack time’s out of the question?” She heaved a sigh. “I’ll get the coffee going.” But not before straddling Ward’s thighs and giving him the languid kiss he had earned. It was the gentlest way Hazel could think of to say, I know that took a lot of guts. Thank you.

>   * * * *

  With her car impounded, Hazel was more than happy to accept a ride to work from Dylan. That morning’s orgasm had left her too relaxed to regret not facing off against LA rush hour traffic. Cars whooshed past, zipping away in the usual frenzy. Dylan kept his cool whether they were stuck at a red light for a good ten minutes, or overtaken by a Mazda whose driver mistook his morning commute for a NASCAR race.

  “I have to agree with Ward,” Dylan mused, hooking his thumb around Hazel’s hand when she rested it atop his. “That was some way to wake up.”

  Hazel smiled at the slow-moving scenery. “Can’t complain…although I think our best times are still ahead.”

  “Oh?”

  “You know, not so…” Hazel hunted for the word. “Vanilla.”

  Dylan scowled at the ancient Toyota idling in front of them, smoke billowing out of its exhaust pipe. “We don’t need to jump into anything. I’m okay with letting the dust settle first. See what happens with this Malcolm thing…”

  “You mean what usually happens when people with money denounce people without?”

  “Hazel—”

  “I know you’ll help me,” she went on, preventing the slew of promises Dylan didn’t need to offer. I believe you’ll do everything you can to help. I know you’re on my side. “I don’t want to put my life on hold because of him. I’ve spent enough time living in the shadow of what he did to me.” And what he kept on doing, through the years, from a distance, like a fisherman dangling bait into waters many feet away. “I like your playroom.”

  “I like it, too,” Dylan admitted, grudgingly.

  “And even though he’s not here to tell you, so does Ward. Maybe more than you and I think…”

  Dylan’s silence was its own answer.

  “Okay, so maybe more than I think,” Hazel corrected.

  Much to her chagrin, they had already reached Marco’s and no matter how much Hazel might have liked to ignore the rest of the world, the honking that Dylan’s double-parking ignited was impossible to drown out.

  “We’re going to need to talk about this.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Smirking, she leaned over the gearshift to peck Dylan on the lips. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Have a good day at work.”

  She didn’t have the heart to tell him that it couldn’t be, not when Sadie was scheduled for the same shift. Their timetable had been decided a week ago today, well before Malcolm had maneuvered them into place like pawns on a chessboard. Even as Hazel reminded herself that the blame lay with him first and foremost, she still found herself dreading the day ahead.

  It won’t pass any quicker if I hang out on the sidewalk. Mental ass-kicking administered, she adjusted the strap of her handbag on her shoulder and pushed past the front door of the diner. The bell overhead chimed to announce her.

  “Morning,” Hazel called out with false cheer.

  The sign on the door always read open, but at six in the morning, the booths were largely empty. One of their regulars, grizzled but indefatigably loyal, sat nursing a cup of coffee at the bar. He flicked up a hand in greeting.

  Hazel squeezed his shoulder. “Hey, Allan. They leave you all by your lonesome in here?”

  “Nah, sweetheart.” His Chicagoan drawl was always more pronounced after a long night of chauffeuring folks back and forth all over Orange County. “Emmalee’s just stepped out. They’ll be in the back.”

  “All right. You hold down the fort a minute. Get you a spot of refill?”

  “You know it.”

  Hazel patted him on the back and sauntered around the bar, to the minuscule staff-only area at the back of the diner. The sound of voices within was hard to miss.

  “—figure this shit out. Me and my girlfriends?” Emmalee scoffed in her inimitable Valley brogue. “We’re always fighting. You claw each other’s eyes out, scream a little…then you make up. You’re gals. That’s how it works.”

  “Not this time.”

  “Sadie, come on…”

  Hazel brazenly stepped through the door. “Morning, y’all.” Missouri thrummed in her voice. “Em, you headin’ out? You must be beat. How’re the kids?” She didn’t let herself so much as glance at Sadie. If she pretended they weren’t sharing the same space, maybe she could trick herself into forgetting everything else they’d shared—from secrets to clothes—all in the shadow of a lie.

  Emmalee arched her sculpted eyebrows. “You’re mighty cheerful this morning. Boyfriend give it to you good?”

  “Emma,” Sadie bit out.

  Hazel made as if she couldn’t hear her. “Boyfriends. Plural. And yes. My day’s already looking up, if you know what I mean.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

  Emmalee laughed. If she was shocked by the revelation, she hid it better than anyone Hazel had told about her unusual relationship so far.

  “All right, I’m out of here.”

  A couple of air kisses for each of them and Emmalee was breezing out of the backroom in her civvies, uniform crumpled into her over-sized CK knock-off.

  The alley door slammed shut behind her.

  “Was she always so rude?” Sadie wondered into the ensuing silence.

  Her back to the room, Hazel paid her no heed.

  “Seriously?” Sadie scoffed. “Is that how it’s gonna be? You’re gonna act like I don’t exist from now on? That’s cold.”

  Hazel folded her jeans over her handbag and started pinning up her hair. A hairnet finished off the uniform a few moments later, her movements deft and largely blind. She had been going through the motions for years.

  Her silence did nothing to abort Sadie’s questions.

  “Do you want me to quit? I’ll tell Marco, if that’s what you want. Soon as he comes in, I’ll say I can’t work here anymore. Just tell me what you want, Hazel!”

  “What’s next?” she taunted as she rounded to face Sadie. “You going to stomp your foot?”

  The pitiful creature with the unbound hair and ashen face was gone, replaced by the Sadie Ling that Hazel had grown to know and befriend and call ally these past few years. Sadie’s usual perkiness was nowhere to be seen, though, and that wasn’t the only spot of alteration. The woman standing front of Hazel now was a faithful copy, but really she was just another stranger in line at the DMV.

  She had misled Hazel into thinking they knew each other for a while. That confusion had run its course, switched off like a flickering light bulb.

  “I’m sorry,” Sadie said, much as she had on the landing outside the loft. “If I could take it back, I would.”

  Hazel took a step toward her, something like satisfaction sparking in her veins when Sadie retreated by the same amount of inches. “Is that why you told police that I attacked you and Malcolm? You were trying to take it back?”

  “He didn’t give me a choice—”

  “They found GHB in my system,” Hazel told her sweetly. “At the hospital. Malcolm was going to rape us. Or maybe just me,” she amended, “and make you watch. Maybe even shoot another video.”

  Sadie balked, oily liner melting into the shadows beneath her eyes. “I—I didn’t know.”

  “That’s your new refrain. You didn’t know. You’re sorry. You had no choice.” How could you? Hurt blossomed in Hazel’s chest like a swelling bruise. I trusted you was the boiling core of her fury. I thought you were my friend made walking away possible, no matter how gratifying it was to see the fear in Sadie’s eyes when her shoulders struck the row of lockers behind her.

  Hazel had been here before, albeit in another place, with another young woman backing away from her in fear. Once, sex and dread had been two sides of the same coin, and Hazel dealt in the currency often and diligently, always with Malcolm’s invisible hand to steer her, always knowing that she had to get the exchange rate just right or risk losing his favor. He was the little cartoon devil perched on her shoulder. Excising his tattoo with lasers hadn’t broken off his hold on her. Perhaps this would.

  “Al
lan needs a refill,” Hazel shot over her shoulder. “I’ll take the kitchen.”

  It was her least favorite part of the job, but if getting the first service out could keep her away from Sadie, she could learn to love it. Or maybe not love it. Maybe just accept that this was the hand she’d been dealt.

  Maybe not even that.

  She waited until Marco breezed into the diner an hour later to make a decision. It took far less than that to break the shackles she hadn’t realized she wore.

  “Hey,” Travis greeted, still bleary-eyed with sleep as he stepped inside. “Marco said I had to come in?”

  Hazel nodded and pushed away from the bar. She had already changed out of her uniform and snatched her things out of her locker. Sticking around until Travis showed up was a service to Marco and his patrons. “I got the sack.” She hadn’t told Sadie, though she doubted that the shouting from the kitchen hadn’t reached the front of house.

  Travis’ face fell. “But… I didn’t say anything.”

  “About?” Hazel’s puzzlement was short-lived. The punch. Their long standing push-pull in the backroom. Travis implying she was a camwhore and Hazel accusing him of being a rapist. She waved a hand. “Oh, I know. I did.”

  Travis narrowed his eyes. “Trying to get me fired?”

  A week ago, she would’ve bristled at his tone. “I told Marco I lost my temper and clocked you, and that you didn’t want to make trouble so you didn’t bring it up. I didn’t say why I hit you.”

  “Still not clear on that myself.”

  Hazel slid her purse over her shoulder. “Something to do with lashing out against people who lash out against my family… That, or I’m just crazy. You pick. Nice knowing you, T.” She rose up on tiptoes when she was close enough and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

  She darted away before he could react.