I cleared my throat and tried to force the nervousness out of my voice. “Hi, it’s me. I was hoping you’d have time to meet up for a few minutes tomorrow.”
“I think I said everything I needed to say the other night,” Mark said, sighing like he was bored. “So why don’t you just fuck off?”
I held out the phone and stared at the screen in awe. It would have been so easy to go ballistic on his ass at that moment, given the number of times he’d lied to me and jerked me around. But I knew that wouldn’t do anything but make a bad situation worse. I took a deep breath and forced myself to be calm. “Look, Mark, I know I shouldn’t have called you. And maybe I should have given you notice about the trip, but… well, I just thought maybe—”
“Maybe what, Zoe? Maybe I’d be over being lied to and hurt? Maybe I’d have calmed the fuck down enough to listen to your bullshit reasons and excuses? Give me a fucking break! Do you know how many times we’ve talked and how many chances you had to tell me that you were leaving New York for fucking Costa Rico for a month? Maybe you don’t, but I sure do!”
“I didn’t call to argue,” I said, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to be strong. “I just wanted to see you Mark. To explain and to apologize.”
“Fuck you and your apology,” he growled. “You never meant anything to me anyway. You were just some bitch I fucked.”
“You don’t mean that,” I said, my eyes welling with tears. I wasn’t sure what I expected from Mark, but it wasn’t this. I never expected this.
“I do mean it,” he said. He breathed heavy in my ear for a moment. “Goddammit, Zoe, why didn’t you just tell me? Why did I have to learn that you were leaving town in the goddamn literary column of the newspaper?”
“The publisher wasn’t supposed to issue a press release until next week,” I said, my voice pleading for understanding. “There was a mix-up in the PR department and the release went out early. I’m sorry, Mark, really, I was going to tell you. I would never hurt you that way. You must know that”
“Well, you did,” he huffed, sounding more and more like a hurt child than a scorned lover. “You hurt me more than you will ever know.”
Even though my eyes were full of tears, they rolled at that comment. I wiped a knuckle under my nose and sniffed back the tears. “Look, I know I hurt you and I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.”
“Yeah, well, whatever,” he said. “What do you have to say for yourself now, you fucking cunt? I just wish that I’d had the good sense to videotape that fuck-fest in the bathroom. Miss hotshot bestselling author getting her cunt banged to shit in a hotel bathroom. The world would finally see you for who you really are, Zoe Maxell, you fucking skank!”
“Mark…” I held the phone up to my mouth and screamed at the top of my lungs. “FUCK YOU!!!!”
I hung up the phone and tossed it on the couch beside me. The tears came quickly and angrily, red hot as they flowed down my cheeks. What a low-life piece of shit cocksucker he was. I couldn’t believe there was a time when I actually thought I loved that man. If I never saw him again that would be just fine with me.
The really sad part was that I felt like I had wasted months of my life having an affair with Mark. I knew he would never leave his wife. Hell, that was part of the attraction. I wasn’t looking for love and neither was he. I just wanted to fuck him and he readily complied. Then we kept on fucking and it turned into a thing: a thing I was starting to regret more by the moment.
Mark wasn’t even that good in bed. He rarely made me cum. All he cared about was getting his rocks off and being on his way. There was rarely foreplay before and never cuddling after. It was almost like I was his whore. He’d drop by unannounced, fuck me without ever taking his shoes off, and he’d be gone. The only difference was that he didn’t leave money on the dresser for covering me with his sweat and goo.
I can’t explain why, but I was suddenly overcome with a strong feeling of remorse, as if I’d lost someone truly dear to me. I wasn’t crying for Mark. I cried for myself. I wrapped my arms around my knees and pulled them to my chest and sobbed like a brokenhearted child.
At that moment, I felt completely alone, totally unloved, and without hope. How could my professional life be so fucking fantastic while my personal life felt so fucking miserable? Someone once said that a writer’s life was the loneliest because there just the writer and the blank page and no one else. I had never agreed with that old saying until now.
* * *
After my self-pity party, I went into the bathroom to dry my tears and blow my nose. I splashed cold water on my face and stared at myself in the mirror for a moment. My phone was on the counter and it buzzed with a number I didn’t recognize. Another telemarketer, no doubt. They hung up when the call went to voicemail.
“Graham is right,” I said to the woman staring back at me through red eyes. “You do not know how great your life can be.” I hung the towel over the rack and leaned in close to the mirror. “Maybe it’s time you take control of your life rather than letting your life control you.”
I turned off the light and went into the living room. Graham had sent over two-hundred books for me to sign in advance of the Good Morning Manhattan appearance. The producers agreed to let me give away books, but didn’t have time for me to sign them onset, so I was doing it head of time. I sat down at the coffee table and opened the first box, calculating in my head how long it would take me to sign two hundred copies.
My mind wandered as I opened the first book and scribbled my name across the page. I tried to remember the first book I’d ever signed. It had been so many years now, so many books.
I had started my career ghostwriting sweet romances for a publisher who put them out under another name. Gradually I went from writing sweet romances to risqué to all out erotica. When I saw my dirtiest books regularly selling thousands of copies for the publisher, I started writing and self-publishing my own books under my name. After a few books, I started hitting the Amazon charts. That’s when Graham found me and the rest is history.
That’s when I started calling on my own sexual memories for inspiration. It wasn’t until I wrote Pleasing Him that my relationship with Chad Walters ended up in a book. Only his name wasn’t Chad. It was Brad. Brad Wallace. And the heroine’s name was Chloe Manning. I know, pretty close, but I seriously doubted Chad would ever read the book, much less make the connection.
Pleasing Him was my hottest, steamiest, filthiest book yet. And readers loved it. Little did they know that every sex act in the book was based on a real memory of sex with Chad.
There was nothing made up in this book.
Every fuck and suck and probe and tuck were real.
I had to sit on a towel when I wrote the book because my cunt would simply overflow.
Maybe that’s why the book was climbing the bestseller lists and the crowds at the book signings got bigger every week.
It was all so real, one critic wrote, like it really happened.
Sister, if only you knew.
Note: “BODY HEAT” is available on Amazon for only 99c or FREE on Kindle Unlimited. Simply click the link below…
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B074SBV5XG
Sneak Peak: His Brother’s Wife
Blurb
Jason Banks always gets what he wants.
And this time, he wants his brother’s wife.
I knew it the first time I looked at those delicious curves,
Until she decided to walk down the aisle with my brother.
I knew it from the look she gives me,
That she wants to submit…give in to what I want.
But she’s a good girl, plays by the rules.
I? I say f*ck the rules!
The only rule I wanna play by is, ‘If you love someone, love HARD. Fight HARDER’.
Tiffany Baby, Care to bend down on your knees…for me?
Chapter 1
Jason
The last place I wanted to be was here, sitting at this bar, waiti
ng for my brother to come in, but it was our routine and I wasn’t about to make trouble between us—well, at least not more trouble than there already was. I was starting to feel like working for the family business had gone a completely different way than I’d anticipated. My father had created this media company with just the pennies in his and my mom’s pockets. Through the years and with some serious hard work, Banks Media had become a force in the business. We spanned seven countries and pretty much took over the media relations sector of journalism. Of course, it was destined for my brother Jordan and I to work at the company and then eventually run it together. On a business level, Jordan and I saw eye to eye, so running a company with him wasn’t what I was worried about. It was his private life that had come into question on a daily basis.
I saw the man every single day, including weekends when we went to our parents for events and cookouts. Spending that much time with my brother was a bit overwhelming in nature, especially when he had become the biggest douchebag I ever met. I was no saint, by any means, and never really had a steady relationship with any woman, but I was upfront and honest about it. He dragged his wife, Tiffany, through the mud and back. Jordan had fallen for Tiffany before they had ever spoken a word, not that I could blame him with her gorgeous blond hair, green eyes, and a body that belonged in a pinup ad, but it wasn’t until his father hired her on that he really got close to her. Everyone was ecstatic when they announced their engagement, she was one of the sweetest girls I’d ever come across, and Jordan actually seemed like he was settling down and becoming more patient and caring. Well, that lasted an entire three months, and now, we had to deal with this divorce that literally came out of nowhere.
The door swung open behind me, and Jordan’s smug laugh rang out as he greeted the bartender before slapping me hard on the shoulder. He pulled up a stool next to me and ordered a beer, a maniacal grin on his face. It was late, I was tired, and the last thing I wanted was to listen to him gloat about his impending divorce. I hoped he was worn out from the day, but that was too much to wish for.
“It’s almost over,” he chuckled. “On Monday, we will officially not be married any longer. Thank God, I have some good lawyers.”
“You mean dad had some good lawyers,” I grumbled, scooting his hand off my shoulder. It looked like I wasn’t going to be very good at holding back my opinion.
“What’s up with you? You seem a bit more tense than usual,” he said looking over at me. “And that’s saying a lot for you.”
“Just tell me,” I said turning quickly toward him. “Why the fuck would you give up on this girl after chasing her for so long?”
“She can’t have kids,” he said smugly. “I didn’t sign up for that shit.”
“You’re a fucking dick,” I said nodding to the bartender for my tab.
“How?” He turned to me angrily. “When I wanted a kid, to carry on this legacy because God knows you don’t have any prospects, she wouldn’t be able to give me that. It wasn’t what I thought it would be, so how is our marriage supposed to even work? What’s the fucking point of it?”
“So, what? You just said the vows and didn’t think about what they really meant? You know there's more than one way to have a child, dickhead. You could adopt. There are thousands of children out there who need a good home.” I threw cash down on the bar and stood up, drinking the last gulp of my beer.
“What the fuck does it matter to you? Why are you so bent out of shape? Do me a favor, Jason,” he said, glaring, “shut the hell up and stay out of my damn business.”
“You never deserved that girl anyway,” I said grabbing my jacket and walking toward the bathroom.
My brother was such a dick, and here I was, giving him the benefit of the doubt, thinking she had cheated on him or something. But no, he’s broken up a home, ended a marriage, and broken a girl’s heart over something she had zero control over. I really felt for Tiffany. She didn’t deserve any of this. He was so stupid for throwing away a life with this girl. She would have done anything for him, and she’d kept him in line. Maybe that’s what it really was. He didn’t like someone else being in control, not that she was in control of this situation either. She couldn’t have kids. It was probably devastating for her to find out, and then, she goes to her husband, who is supposed to be caring and supportive, and he turns his back on her. I suddenly felt embarrassed that cocksucker was my brother.
I washed my hands and walked out of the bathroom, stopping suddenly at the sight of Rose, the girl I had been messing around with for months. She was a hot little number and instantly all my cares flew right out the window. There was nothing better than getting some frustrations out through some tight ass and a little playtime. She had no misconceptions, and in reality, I was pretty sure she didn’t want to be any part of our fucked up family.
“Hey there,” she said, grabbing me by the shirt and yanking me forward. “I was looking for you.”
“Oh, yeah? What for?”
She bit her lip and looked up at me with her dark brown eyes. I chuckled at her lack of subtlety and looked around quickly as she reached down and cupped my balls. I pressed my hand to the wall behind her head and leaned in, dipping my tongue between her soft, poised lips.
“Where are we going this time?”
She giggled and grabbed me by the collar, pulling me into an old stock room in the back. It was obvious no one ever came into this place, and it was the perfect scenery for our normal debauchery. She clicked the lock closed and turned to me with trouble written on her face. She grinned, biting her lower lip and pulling her shirt over her head. I put my hands up chuckling at how forward she always was. She reached back and undid her bra, letting her big, round tits bounce all over the place. She pulled my shirt from my pants and dropped down on her knees, unbuckling them and yanking them down to my ankles. I leaned back against the dusty pillar and put my arms over my head, waiting for her lips. She pulled my boxers down and grabbed my shaft as it bounced free from the fabric. This girl had me going before she ever took her shirt off, but then again, I knew what she could do with those lips and those hips.
She wasted no time going straight to work, gliding her mouth over the tip of my cock and down my hard shaft. I groaned at the feeling of her tongue whipping wildly around my erection and looked down at her bright red hair as it bobbed back and forth. She slowly reached up and massaged my balls while sliding her head all the way down, taking the entirety of my cock into her throat. She pressed down hard, her lips touching the base, and I could feel her sucking at the back of her throat. She was so fucking hot, and to make it even hotter, she had a tongue piercing, leftover fashion from ten years ago. The soft gel ball rolled along my shaft and pressed right underneath the head of my cock, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I groaned as my hips moved forward, meeting her mouth and then pulling back. I grabbed onto her red hair and shoved her down, watching a smile curl at the edge of her lips. Her eyes gazed up at me, watering and wild as I continued to push my hips toward her face, fucking her mouth hard. She reached her hands up and groped her breasts, bouncing them up and down as I pleasured myself with her mouth. She spread her legs apart and reached up under her skirt, rubbing her clit, rolling her eyes, and moaning with my cock in her mouth. I could feel the vibrations of her voice against my shaft, and immediately, all I wanted to do was fuck the hell out of her.
My eyes moved around the dusty old room looking for a good place to bend her over. Finally, my eyes came to rest on an old oak desk in the corner. I smiled lecherously as I pulled her head back and off my cock. I motioned to the desk and she laughed, not seeing me reach down and grab her by the waist. I pulled her to her feet and turned her around, shoving her toward the desk. I pushed her down over top and flipped up her skirt, happy to find she wasn’t wearing any panties. She looked back and giggled as I shoved three fingers into her pussy and leaned forward over top of her. I moved them in and out fast and watched as she groaned loudly.
“I’m going
to fuck the hell out of you,” I whispered into her ear.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?” she moaned.
I smiled, pulling my fingers out of her and grabbing a condom out of my back pocket of my pants. I ripped it open and threw the package to the side, pulling the condom down over my cock. It twitched and pulsated, waiting for her soft, wet pussy. I grabbed her by the hips and slowly slid my shaft through her juices. She reached forward and grabbed the edge of the desk, spreading her feet apart and bracing herself. I teased her at first, going slowly in and out, feeling every ripple of her wet, soaking pussy. She groaned and pushed her hips back, reaching for more.
“Harder,” she pleaded.
I widened my stance and grabbed her by the hips, the anger from my brother earlier still surging through my chest. Instantly, I thrust forward as hard as I could, driving my cock deep inside of her. She screamed out, lifting her hand to her mouth to stifle the sounds from the bar outside the door. I closed my eyes and started to pound her deep and fast, feeling her tight ass in my hands. I slapped her cheek and listened as she moaned over and over to the rhythm of my thrusts. Her pussy grew wetter and wetter, and I knew she wasn’t far from coming all over me. I leaned forward and pushed my hips short and fast into her pussy, wrapping my arm around her waist and giving it to her real good. As my thrusts shortened but grew in intensity, I could feel her body lurch, and she screamed out, throwing her head back, reaching her peak. Her warm juices flowed steadily over my shaft, and I stood up, took hold and fucked her as hard and fast as I could until I felt my raging cock grow even larger. I leaned over and grabbed the other side of the desk and pushed up on my toes, lunging deep inside of her. I took in a deep breath and let my cock explode, ripples of pleasure surging through my entire body.
As my orgasm began to recede and my hips stilled from the movement, I could hear her giggling under her breath. I pulled out and slapped her ass, smiling as she turned around. She leaned back on the desk and crossed her legs.
Yours Forever Page 94
