Pleasured By You

by Steph Nuss

  Grandma Ceci came back into the room eating another cupcake. “Bayler, you did a wonderful job on these cupcakes. I love the little tiaras.”

  “Me too,” Harper said, snatching another one off the table. “Remind me to save one for Maverick.”

  I laughed. “You might want to stop eating them all then.”

  “Maverick doesn’t need one,” Elly said, taking one for herself. She propped her legs up on the ottoman and smiled as she took a bite.

  Charlotte and Mom chatted with one another as they joined us.

  “What are you two gabbing about?” Grandma Ceci asked.

  “We were just comparing baby sizes,” Charlotte replied, smiling. “Maverick was around nine pounds, I think.”

  “Harper was eight,” Mom said.

  “Great!” Harper exclaimed, sarcastically. “I’ll be giving birth to a bowling ball.”

  I laughed. “You look like you’re ready to pop now. When are you due?”

  “I have over three more weeks left to go. October twenty-sixth is my due date, but I wouldn’t mind if she came a little early.”

  “Maverick was early,” Charlotte said.

  Mom laughed. “And Harper was late.”

  “You guys aren’t helping,” Harper said, as she attempted to stand up from her seat on her own.

  Mom came to the rescue though and grabbed Harper’s hands to help lift her up. It was nice to see Mom so happy about becoming a grandmother. At first, she’d been bent out of shape about the fact that Harper and Maverick weren’t married yet, but something had changed. I wasn’t exactly sure what or when, but when Harper opened one of Mom’s gifts—Harper’s old christening gown—Mom had actually cried.

  I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d seen her cry.

  “Hey,” Harper whispered, nudging my arm. “Come with me to the nursery real quick. I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Uh, okay,” I said curiously.

  “Grab a couple of gifts when you come,” Harper said as she took off toward the baby’s room.

  Standing from the couch, I did as she asked, and then placed the gifts on the floor of the room. Baby girl Jones already had a closet full of outfits, and she had plenty of dresses and onesies to add to her collection from today. She had drawers filled with bows and headbands and tons of other accessories. Harper had been stocking up ever since she found out they were expecting a girl. Now the room looked like princess central.

  “So, what’d you want to talk about?” I asked.

  “Close the door.”

  Furrowing my brows, I walked over and closed the door, and then turned back toward her. “Now what gives?”

  Harper sighed and then shot me a weak smile. “I want to talk to you about Fletcher.”

  Now, it was my turn to sigh. Was it not enough that I had to see him today and listen to him make gracious small talk with my mom and sister? “What about him?”

  “Fletcher is one of Maverick’s best friends. He was a groomsman in Carter and Elly’s wedding. He’s your boss. That means no matter what happens between you two, he’s going to be in our lives whether you like it or not.”

  “I know,” I muttered defensively.

  Placing a hand on her belly, Harper continued. “And that is why I want you to promise me that you two will have this worked out by the time my daughter comes into the world.”

  “You’re being ridiculous,” I deadpanned.

  “Am I?” she asked, grinning widely. “I love you. All I want is for you to be happy. Whether it’s with him or not.”

  “I know.”

  “So, promise me,” she insisted. “I don’t want my little girl coming into a world where her aunt and uncle aren’t speaking.”

  Rolling my eyes, I smiled. “I promise.”

  “Thank you.” She seemed pleased with herself as she started to waddle back to the door.

  I turned around and stared at her. “That’s it?”

  She stopped and smiled over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re not going to lecture me on chasing my happily-ever-after in typical Harper fashion?”

  She laughed. “No. You’re my sister, and I love and support you no matter what. Would I love for you to be with him? Only if he truly makes you happy. Do I think he can make you happy? Yes, absolutely. But I know you. You’re stubborn and independent, and you let him get too close. So, you did what you always do to men; you pushed him away. You treated him like all the rest. I just have one question for you. Is he like all of the other men who came before him?”

  Her words hit me hard as a ball knotted up in my throat. “No, he’s not.”

  “That’s why I’m not giving you a lecture,” she said, taking my hand in hers. “I know you’re already beating yourself up over what happened.”

  “I don’t know what to do,” I confessed, blinking back tears.

  She squeezed my hand. “Do you love him?”

  “I . . . I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “How do you know?”

  “When he scares the hell out of you with a single look,” she answered, as a mesmerized expression crossed over her face. “Love is scary, but it’s the greatest, scariest thing you’ll ever experience. If he’s that for you, then you know you love him.”

  I dropped her hand and turned away from her. Her knowledge over all this made me nauseous. We were only four years apart in age, yet here in the nursery, she seemed like the only adult as I childishly wrapped my arms around my stomach, feeling so confused and ashamed. “I wasn’t even mad about some other woman kissing him. All I saw was how much he could hurt me, and then I panicked.” Glancing back at her, I finally asked the question that had been haunting me for two weeks. “Is that stupid?”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Then what the hell is wrong with me?! It’s not like I have some tragic past or anything. Nothing bad has ever happened to me. I’ve had a great life so far. I mean sure, Mom and Dad could’ve hugged us a little more or told us they loved us more often, but that’s just—”

  “Bayler, there’s nothing wrong with you,” Harper stated. She took a deep breath and continued. “You’ve always been the rebel, the one with the strong backbone who could speak her mind without giving a damn what others thought. You’ve always been the one your friends could come to whenever they had a problem—specifically, a guy problem—and you’d always ask, ‘Whose dick do I need to cut off?’ You’ve watched us let guy after guy break our hearts. I think you’re allowed to be scared of letting a guy break yours. So, no, it’s not stupid that you worried about being vulnerable, but you have to understand that it’s okay to open your heart. It’s okay that he has the power to hurt, but you have to hope he never does. Love demands vulnerability, but it survives on hope.”

  “Thanks, H.”

  “You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to pee for the millionth time today.”

  She exited and walked across the hall to her bedroom. I headed into the kitchen where I found Tessa sipping on a glass of champagne.

  “I think the party went really well today,” she said proudly. “What do you think?”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, nodding. “It did.”

  She snuck a quick peek into the living room, and then turned back toward me. “Hey, what are you doing tonight? I know your family is in town, but I thought maybe you’d like a night away from them. What do you say?”

  “What’d you have in mind?” I wanted to spend my night in bed more than anything, but her offer had some appeal. Grandma Ceci and Mom were in town for one more night, and I’d overheard Elly and Harper already making plans with them for this evening. I didn’t have the energy to spend more time with my family. Grandma had already caught my eye a couple of times today so she knew something was wrong, and though Mom had her mind set on the baby most of the day, it was only a matter of time before it turned to me.

  “I thought we could get drinks and go dancing,” Tessa said, smiling. �
��Just the two of us. No family or guys. Just some solid girl time.”

  Booze and booty-shaking. “That sounds perfect.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was Saturday night, and instead of hanging out with the guys, I was lying in bed, scrolling through pictures of Bayler on my phone. Throughout the summer, I’d secretly taken pictures of her when she wasn’t looking. I had photos of her wrapped up in the sheets sleeping, and other photos of her at the beach with our Littles. I’d even snuck a few pictures of her working at the bakery, concentrating so hard on decorating her masterpieces, and a couple of other snaps of her during a roller derby bout. But my favorite was a picture of her wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of mine that had HANEY customized on the back in bold lettering. She’d put it on the first morning after she’d stayed the night, and I remembered it like it was yesterday. She’d slipped on my tee like it was the most natural thing, as if she wanted nothing else against her skin but me.

  As I continued scrolling, my phone started to vibrate in my hand, and Tessa’s name appeared on the screen.

  “Hello?” I said, slightly confused.

  “Fletcher,” she said, her voice urgent. “I need your help.”

  “What’s wrong?” Crawling out of bed, I held the phone tighter and started to get dressed. It was past midnight, and a Beyonce song blasted in the background on her end, making it more difficult to hear. “Tessa, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s Bayler,” she said.

  Fuck, I thought, moving more quickly. “What happened? Where are you?”

  “We’re at Poison,” she shouted. “We decided to go out for some drinks and dancing, and the next thing I know we’re sitting with Maxton Waters in the VIP lounge and she’s doing shots. I wanted to leave a few hours ago, but Bayler just kept drinking. Now, she’s damn near passed out in a booth, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I’m going to get her home. I know it’s late, but I didn’t know who else to call. If anyone knows how to get her out of here, it’s you.”

  “Okay,” I said, running a hand over my face. “I’ll be there in a minute. I’m going to have one of my security guys come and get you. He’ll take you guys to a back exit that opens to the alley, where I’ll be waiting in my car.”

  “Thanks, Fletcher,” she said, in a shaky voice.

  “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be all right,” I said, unsure if I was reassuring her or myself.

  ***

  When Saxon entered the alley carrying Bayler, my stomach tightened into a ball of fury just at the sight of her limp body in his arms. She was wearing a short black dress and tall heels. Her eyes were shut, and her hair was down in a mass of blond waves.

  “Where do you want her?” Saxon asked.

  I opened the door to my back seat. “In here.”

  “All right.” He eased her in, laying her across the leather bench since she couldn’t even sit up. “Will you need help getting her into her place?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I can get her.”

  “Okay.”

  “Thanks for your help.”

  “Anytime.”

  Saxon went back inside, and I turned toward Tessa, who was leaning up against my car, nervously chewing on her lip.

  “I’m so sorry,” she cried, shaking her head. “I never meant for this to happen. I just thought it would be nice to get her out and have some fun.”

  “Hey,” I said, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “You have nothing to be sorry about. You did the right thing by calling me. Now, let’s get her home.”

  ***

  Once we got Bayler into her apartment, I immediately carried her to the bathroom and sat down on the tile with her in my arms. She was disoriented, cutting in and out of sleep every few minutes and mumbling to herself, but I wasn’t going to chance her dying from alcohol poisoning.

  “Okay, Tessa, I need you to put her hair up. Get it out of her face.” I took off Bayler’s heels and threw them into her bedroom. Then I turned her in my lap so that her back was flush against my front and she was facing the toilet.

  She brushed Bayler’s hair through her fingers and then tied it up in a bun. “Now what?”

  “Now, we’re going to try to get her to throw up,” I stated.

  “I’m not sticking my fingers down her throat,” Tessa objected, shaking her head.

  “Tessa!” Bayler whispered, drunkenly. “Do you smell that? It smells like Fletcher. He always smells so good.”

  That was the other issue. She was convinced I wasn’t real, so she kept talking about me like I wasn’t there, like she was the only one who could see me. Which just felt like another punch to the gut.

  “Yes, he does,” Tessa agreed, biting back laughter. While it was gut-wrenching for me, Tessa found it absolutely hilarious.

  “I—I just wish I could bottle it up and—and well, I wouldn’t sell it,” she babbled, concentrating hard. “I’d keep him all to myself! I don’t want any other woman to have my Fletcher.”

  “Hey, Bayler,” I urged, grabbing her attention.

  “Fletcher,” she whispered in awe again. Crawling out of my lap, she turned around to face me and touched my face with her hand. “I miss you so much.”

  “I miss you, too,” I said softly, caressing her back. “But I need you to try to throw up now, okay?”

  “I hate throwing up!” she cried, resting her head against the porcelain seat.

  “Most people do,” I claimed, smiling up at Tessa, who was now laughing. “But I promise, you’ll feel so much better in the morning if you get it out now.”

  “And you won’t die from alcohol poisoning!” Tessa added.

  Bayler brought her fingers to her mouth and stuck them in, but then quickly pulled them out. “I can’t do it! I don’t want to throw up. I just want to sleep.”

  “I know. You can sleep after you throw up.”

  Tessa rummaged around the vanity and then handed me a toothbrush. “Here. You’re going to have to do it.”

  I glared at her. “I’m not using a fucking toothbrush.”

  “You’re going to stick your fingers down her throat?” she asked, appalled.

  “They’ll be softer than a damn plastic brush,” I replied, crawling onto my knees. Cupping Bayler’s face in one hand, I lifted it from the toilet seat, and then gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Okay, here goes nothing.”

  “Just imagine it’s his dick, Bayler,” Tessa encouraged, as I slid my hand into Bayler’s mouth and ran my finger down her throat until she gagged.

  I pulled my hand out fast and held her as she heaved forward and the contents of her stomach filled the bowl.

  “That’s it, sweetie,” I said, rubbing her back. “Get it all out.”

  Tears spilled out of her eyes as she expelled the rest of the Cape Cods from her system, and I breathed through my mouth to avoid the rank smell of rotten cranberries mixed with stomach acid. Once she was finished, she rested her head against the toilet again, and I flushed, ridding the toilet of the reddish substance.

  “God, that was gross,” Tessa murmured, cringing.

  “My throat hurts,” Bayler cried, wiping a tear from her face, further smearing her makeup.

  “Tessa, she has some wipes in the cabinet there,” I said, pointing to the vanity. “Grab me one.”

  She rummaged through Bayler’s toiletries until she found the wipes, and then handed a few to me with a smile. “You know where her makeup remover is?”

  “I used to stay here almost every night,” I answered, swiping the towelette over Bayler’s skin, removing the smudged makeup from her beautiful face. “She does this every night before she goes to bed.”

  “That’s sweet,” Tessa said.

  “This is so embarrassing!” Bayler groaned. “I fucked up. I really, really fucked up.”

  “It’s okay,” Tessa said, in a comforting voice. “Everyone drinks a little too much now and then. You’re going to be fine.”

  “No, no, no!” she
cried, chastising herself. “I mean, with Fletcher. I fucked up with Fletcher. He’d really be here with me if I hadn’t pushed him away.”

  Tessa glanced over at me apologetically as an ache pounded in my chest. One would think that was exactly what I wanted to hear from her, but it wasn’t, because she was drunk and believed I was a figment of her imagination right now. Witnessing her in this state caused guilt to crawl into every corner of my body. I may have not forced the alcohol down her throat, but she’d downed it all in an attempt to forget about me. And that killed me.

  “How about we get you to bed?” Tessa asked.

  Bayler nodded. “Sleep sounds good.”

  Standing from the floor, I cradled her in my arms and set her on her bed. She immediately reached for the straps of her dress and pulled them down over her shoulder. Kicking the material off, she unhooked her bra and threw it on the floor next to her dress. In nothing but a pair of black panties, I couldn’t help but stare at her thinner appearance. She’d lost weight since the last time I’d seen her naked, and again, guilt chopped at my heart, slicing it into tiny little pieces.

  “I need my t-shirt,” Bayler complained sluggishly.

  Tessa glanced around the room. “What’s it look like?”

  “It’s white, and it says ‘hiney’ on the back,” Bayler replied, hiccuping.

  “Hiney?” Tessa laughed.

  Then Bayler fell into a fit of giggles along with her. “I meant, Haney! It says Haney on the back.”

  Seeing her smile eased my pain a bit, and listening to her laughter was like music to my ears after going weeks without hearing it. God, I fucking miss her. If she wasn’t drunk right now, I probably wouldn’t be here, but if I was, I’d hold her in my arms and tell her exactly how much I needed her.

  “Although, Fletcher does have a wonderful ass,” Bayler said, sighing wistfully. “Tessa, do you—do you think he’s already moved on?”

  Tessa snorted, rolling her eyes. “No, I’m sure he hasn’t.”

  “How do you know? Have you talked to him?” she quizzed.

  Crawling on her hands and knees, Tessa finally found the shirt under the bed and threw it at Bayler’s face. “Why don’t you just ask him? He’s standing right there!”