Social Media

by JA Huss

  “No, sweets. She understands how I feel about you, even if you don’t just yet. I know that last night we were playing a little game with the word like, but I don’t just like you, Grace. I’m falling in love with you. I am, I can’t help it. I’m falling in love with you and I need you to just stop blocking me and keep an open mind.”

  She considers this for a moment. “If I come spend the night at your house, can we have those conversations all over again? So I don’t feel like I missed out on the best night of my life?”

  I laugh at her. God, this girl. She does it for me. I want to make her world perfect. I want to keep her happy. I want to give her that fairytale and I want to be her prince. “We can have a total repeat, Grace. As many times as you need to hear what I had to say, I will tell you. Last night wasn’t perfect. We were fighting and I was so worried about losing you. So worried that you’d walk out on me again… well, I rushed it, I think. I won’t rush it tonight, I swear.”

  “OK,” she whispers out on the slightest breath of air. “OK, I’ll keep an open mind.” She wraps her arms around my neck and then leans up on her tiptoes so she can plant another one of those sweet kisses on my lips.

  I smile all the way through it.

  Chapter Fifty-Three - Grace

  #IReallyDoNeedAPrince

  I STAY out of the way for the wedding. I feel awkward and a bit of a failure, if I’m being honest. The wedding I planned for Kristi is about as far from this low-key event as you can get. The Blazen family is transported over to the resort and I help Kristi’s brother set up chairs and direct the caterers and florist. By the time we’re ready for the ceremony, it’s almost ten PM. But one look at Kristi and Johnny, and I can tell they do not care what time it is. They are in love. Kristi’s meltdown is history, and Johnny places a hand over her belly as he says his vows.

  Vaughn and I stay until the reception starts and then we slip away quietly. He’s clearly anxious about something, and for a while I thought it was just the stress of the day. Because really—what a day. But I think it’s about more than that. It’s the media, sure. It’s the attention. And yes, that scares me too. But there’s something else going on with him that I just can’t put my finger on.

  We have one of the limo drivers take us to the small-jet airport in Vegas, and we spend the entire flight lounging against each other, watching a movie. Like this is just another day for us. Like we always take private jets home from midnight weddings in Vegas. And don’t even get me started on how my life went from completely ordinary to being Vaughn Asher’s girlfriend. Because that’s how he’s treating me now. Not like his plaything or his submissive. But his girlfriend.

  And the scariest thing is, it feels very… normal.

  I don’t do normal, so the whole time we’re in the jet I’ve got this little nagging feeling in the back of my head. Just picking away at me. Normal implies that my future is not dictated by my past. But it is.

  We didn’t turn the news on all evening, so I have to use my imagination about what they’ve been saying about me. But Vaughn has this little crease in his forehead from the narrowing of his eyes.

  He insisted earlier that my long-ago abductor couldn’t find me and he’ll never get me again. So why would he say that if he wasn’t worried about it?

  I know better anyway. I lived with that sicko for eight months. I am quite possibly the only person who knows exactly what he is capable of.

  “What are you thinking about?” Vaughn asks as we pull up to a large home somewhere in the movie-star neighborhoods of Los Angeles. I am not familiar with LA at all, so even though I know his home address from my stalking, I have no idea what the neighborhood is actually called. It’s hilly, and pretty, and I can see the lights of LA off in the distance, shimmering the way they do on a hot night. It’s hot tonight, a lot hotter than it is in Colorado in late September, and we have the air-conditioning on. It segregates me from the outside world, muffles the noise of traffic and activity.

  “Nothing,” I say. I would be so lost in this city if Vaughn wasn’t here. That makes my heart flutter with suspicion and fear for a second, but a calming hand on my leg as we pull into the attached garage of a modern mid-century rambler brings me back from a panic attack.

  That worries me a little. The fact that I still freak out if I’m not sure where I am. It’s like nothing ever got better.

  After I came home I was unable to talk. Not just unwilling, I was that too. But unable. Too many months of forced silence. I was re-educated, they said. I looked that word up and it scared the shit out of me because it came with other words attached to it. Thought-reform and compliance and persuasion. How did one man turn me into something I wasn’t over just a few months?

  I don’t know. I didn’t understand what happened to me back then and I don’t understand it now. And even though it looks like everything is fine, my sudden paranoia betrays the things I’m hiding inside.

  Vaughn turns the ignition off and we sit in silence for a second. “You ready to see my awesome bachelor pad?” he asks with a wide grin.

  I nod. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  We get out and walk to the door that connects to the house. He unlocks it and an alarm beeps until he keys in a code to make it stop. “After I adopted Felicity, we bought this house for just us. And we had a deal about dates. Because you know, she’s not my kid. She makes that clear every chance she gets. But I’m protective of her. She’s sort of a cross between a best friend, a daughter, and a sister. So I told the designer to make it feel… like a home.” He looks down at me with a smile as we enter the main room and I have to admit, this is not what I was expecting Vaughn Asher’s house to look like.

  The couches are black leather, that’s totally him. And there’s a huge TV on the wall. That’s him too. But there are dishes on the coffee table. Coffee mugs on the kitchen bar. The bar stools have jackets and sweatshirts hanging off them. And it’s not exactly a mess. It’s just… lived in. Comfortable.

  “It’s weird, huh?” he asks me. I give him a quizzical look complete with a raised eyebrow. “Adopting a sixteen-year-old girl when you’re only twenty-six. I get it, most people don’t do that. But… she really needed me, Grace.” He draws in a long breath. “And I needed her too. She’s the only thing that made me good for a while there.”

  I take his hand and give it a squeeze. “Why are you trying to justify it, Vaughn? I think it’s awesome. I was adopted at fifteen, so I can appreciate how much you probably changed her life.”

  “Bebe?” he asks me. I nod. “Her mother was your lawyer?”

  I nod again, but my heart is starting to beat very fast. “How much do you know?”

  “Not nearly enough,” he says as he tenderly glides his knuckles down my cheek and then leans in for a small kiss. “I know you were abducted. Felicity is my partner in crime too. She’s a genius hacker and she pulled the police reports.”

  I stare at him for a moment. Should I be mad about that? It would be very easy to be mad. Call it an invasion of privacy, or hell, call it what it is… illegal. Anger is the expected emotion when you find out your boyfriend is spying on your past. I should start a fight to push him away.

  But I don’t want to. I don’t feel like being mad. And as much as I really don’t want to talk about it, I figure it’s probably better to just get some of it out of the way early. Put a stop to it, right? That’s what I do when people ask about my childhood. Not the real one. Not the one where my family is murdered and I’m kidnapped by a sick freak and held captive for months.

  No. That one is buried.

  I tell them that fake story about living in Highlands in Denver. I tell them my parents died of carbon monoxide poisoning. I never admit to a brother at all. I tell them I was homeschooled, which is not even a complete lie.

  I’ve only told Vaughn part of this lie, so I don’t have much explaining to do. That’s a nice perk. It’s too late to tell him that other story anyway. Obviously I didn’t grow up in Highlands and he s
urely knows this by now if this Felicity girl has been poking around enough to get police reports. So I feed him some truth to make the questions stop.

  “I was taken,” I say as I look up at him. And even though I know he knows this, his face falls. His whole expression changes. This is the part I hate the most. When I see that sadness in the eyes of people who love me. I can’t take it. It breaks down my walls and makes me sad and depressed. In that one look I see all the questions running through his mind, so I address the most obvious one first. “I was not molested or abused sexually. Ever.”

  He gives me a small smile as if to say, Thank God.

  “But I was not treated well either. And even though you think you want to know what happened—everyone thinks they want to know what happened—you don’t, Vaughn.” My chin starts to quiver and I hate myself for letting that freak of a monster make me cry ten years later.

  Vaughn reaches out but I pull back and see the hurt on his face. I put a hand up and shake my head for a second. “Please, don’t feed it. Don’t feed those feelings. Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t say, I can’t imagine… because it gives him power over me. And I don’t want him to have that power.”

  He stares at me, his eyes searching for more. But then he nods and says, “OK.”

  I walk to the window and look out onto his back yard to distance myself from the feelings this conversation evokes in me. We are up in the hills, looking down on the city. “It’s beautiful,” I say, not really meaning to change the subject, but OK with the fact that I did. “Your pool looks amazing.” The underwater lights must be blue, because the color of the water is pure turquoise. “It reminds me of the water around Saint Thomas.”

  Vaughn comes up behind me and slips his arms around my waist. “Wanna go outside and look around? In here it’s pretty nondescript. Homey and comfortable. But outside is where all the movie star in me comes out.”

  I laugh, I can’t help myself. “Is that right?”

  “Come on,” he says. “I’ll show you.” He slides the doors open, and then he folds them away, making the house merge with the outdoor patio.

  “Wow,” I say, amazed at the folding glass wall. “I’ve never seen that in real life before.” I look between the living room and the pool area and yes, that is very movie star.

  He takes my hand and leads me over to the water, and then he kicks off his shoes and steps into the beach entry pool. I do the same and follow him in. The water is surprisingly warm as it folds over my feet in little lapping waves. “There’s a current in here?”

  “I own five lots on this street,” he says, pointing over to a thicket of lush greenery on either side of the pool. “Two on either side of my house.” His smile is surprisingly boyish and it charms me for a moment. “And the only reason I needed to take up so much prime LA real estate was so I could build my own lazy river. I fucking love those things.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. “Do I get a VIP invitation?”

  “Baby,” he whispers as he leans down. “You are the new owner as far as I’m concerned. You can do whatever you want on this lazy river.”

  “Is it too late to take a spin?”

  “Never. We’re open twenty-four seven, sweets.” And then he leads me off to the side of the main pool, between two palm trees that are acting like a gateway to another world.

  “Do we want separate rafts?” he asks with a wink. “Or should we float together?”

  “Together, of course.”

  He walks over to a storage shed and opens the door, rummages inside for a few moments, then comes out with an inflatable raft that will indeed fit two, but only if they are sitting very close together. I eyeball it with suspicion but he just grins.

  “I don’t have a suit,” I say, my words sounding a little breathless.

  He whips his shirt over his head and throws it on the ground. “Me either.” And then he unbuttons his jeans.

  My eyes track every movement as he pulls his zipper down and then stops. I look up at his face.

  “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

  Fuck, no, I want to say. Unleash that baby. Instead I whip my shirt over my head and send him a smile. “Bra on or off for a midnight float down the movie-star river?”

  “Mmmmm,” he says. “Hard one.” And then he gives his jeans the slightest tug and they fall to the ground. He’s commando and not completely hard, but my heated stare makes up for that and his cock springs to life.

  I reach behind me and unsnap my bra, letting it hang loose for a moment before slipping my arms out. My nipples perk up and my breasts are instantly firm and taut. I move to my shorts, and after a few deft tugs, which Vaughn watches just as I watched him, I wiggle them over my hips and they fall to the ground.

  We step away from the clothes at the same time. He holds his hand out to me and I take it, letting him draw me close to him.

  My whole body is humming, but my pussy is throbbing like crazy.

  I want him.

  I want him in the worst way. I think we had sex last night, but I don’t remember it. So in my mind, it’s been weeks and I’m so ready for him.

  “Grace,” he says as he leans down to kiss my neck. “I want you right now. No one can see us through the thick foliage, but if you prefer, we can go inside. Go up to bed.”

  “Are you kidding me? And miss out fucking you on the Vaughn Asher River?”

  He chuckles and his hand dips between my legs.

  I’m so horny, I’m not surprised when he finds me slick and ready before we even get started. He inserts one finger inside me and my whole body trembles. “That feels so good.”

  “I want to be inside you so fucking bad right now, Grace.”

  I feel the same way. I don’t want to mess with foreplay at all. I want his hard cock buried within me. I want him to fill me up and make me whole. Put me back together and take all the pain away. It’s stupid to think a good hard fuck can do that, but it can.

  As if reading my mind, he reaches around and cups my ass, then lifts me up. His hard length rubs the wet lips of my pussy as he positions me. And then he walks over to the side of the small building, pressing my back against the hard stone.

  “One hard fast fuck. And then we can relax on the river.”

  “Yes,” I breathe into his ear. “Fuck me hard, Vaughn. Ple—”

  His cock enters me, sliding past my folds, stretching me, bumping up against my clit, and rubbing my g-spot all at the same time. My head rolls back, my eyes close, and my mouth opens to release a moan as the walls of my pussy stretch and he buries himself deep inside.

  He pauses. Just for a moment. And in that moment I realize something—fuck that fantasy. Because my reality rocks.

  He pounds into me the moment that realization hits. Vigorously pumping and thrusting. His hands grip my ass cheeks, spreading them wide. A fingertip slips alongside my bud, dragging the wetness we are creating along with it, and a second later, it’s inside me as well.

  I push my ass back into the pressure, begging him for more with my actions.

  “I want your ass, Grace. I want to fuck your ass so bad. But my fairytale cock is currently enchanted by your princess pussy.”

  I laugh as I continue to move against him.

  “I am your fucking prince, Grace. Do you understand me? I’m the prince you’ve been looking for. Say it, Grace.”

  “You’re my prince, Vaughn.” I laugh a little.

  “Damn right.” He grinds his hips, hitting my clit in just the right way, and it’s over.

  My prince makes me see fairy dust.

  He bucks against me at the same time, spilling inside me, his head falling back and his jaw tight as I clench my pussy around his pulsating shaft.

  “Fuck,” he says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I tighten around him again, making him let out a long moan as he grips my ass tightly, riding out the wave of pleasure.

  My heart is beating so fast I think it might explode out of my chest. I place my hand over his heart to calm myself—to
reassure myself that he feels this way too. And he does. His rhythm is quick and pounding. One hand goes behind his neck and the other grips his thick hard biceps. It trembles beneath my touch and I rest my cheek against his shoulder. “Don’t let me go.”

  “I’ll never let you go. Ever.” After a few moments he relaxes, setting me down slowly until my feet touch the smooth concrete. “I need this every day for the rest of my life. I will never let you go.”

  He spins me around so my back is pressed into his chest, his arms crossing over my heaving breasts as I try my best to catch my breath. “You’re mine,” he growls in my ear. “You’re never getting away again. I won’t let you get away again. So please, Grace. Please don’t try.”

  “I cannot imagine anything that would make me want to give you up either, so don’t worry.”

  He sighs. And it’s long and laced with relief. “Thank you.”

  “What for?” I ask, leaning my head back into his chest. I’m so tired, all I want is to get on that raft and drape my arm across his chest and sleep as I float down River Asher. “I should be thanking you. For sticking it out and not letting me push you away.”

  “I was an asshole. I get it. I told you this last night, but I’d like to say it all again, if that’s OK. Because you don’t remember much, do you?”

  I pull away and turn around so I can look up at his face. “No. But… I feel different. Like our relationship has changed. And instead of fighting it off, I’m just gonna go with the flow.” I point to the water. “And I’d like to go with that flow.”

  He picks up the raft and walks down the sloped edge of the river’s entrance and places the raft on the water. He holds out his hand, beckoning me. “Come on. I’ve never floated on this river with a woman before. Let’s make memories.”

  Wow. Maybe he really is my prince? I walk forward and take his hand. He gives it a squeeze before letting go so we can climb on the raft. When he’s settled, he opens his arms, inviting me to join him.

  I climb on and settle against his chest. My body instantly stills. Relaxes, sinks into him, trying to become one. The stress of the day seeps out of my weary muscles. The reality slips a little. And even though I’m ready to embrace it, what’s one more night of denial? That’s the thing about reality. It’s always there waiting for you. “This is perfect.”