The Breakup

by Erin McCarthy

  “I don’t know.” She smoothed her wedding dress. “But I do know that I’m not in a relationship anymore. You told me to call you when that happened. So I did. And I want you to stay with me. Overnight.”

  That turned me on. I couldn’t help it. “Bella, are you flirting with me?” I asked her.

  She smacked my arm and made a sound of protest. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  I felt the urge to rub my temples and resisted. Shit, what the hell was I doing? This was such a bad idea. I was not good friend material for women.

  “So you want a counselor? A friend? I think your sister would be a better bet than me.” I didn’t have a lot of advice to give to a pampered princess who had ditched out on her wedding. I had zero experience with that, and I wasn’t sure she would like my advice anyway if I could muster some up. Because it would be along of lines of just cut the guy off and never speak to him or of him ever again.

  But did I really want to go there?

  Even if she was beautiful. Even if I did feel bad for her. Even if I did feel a strange pull toward her.

  I didn’t even need to get laid. I’d done that twice in the past week with the brunette Christina. It had been a decent release, even if she was no Bella in the beauty department. She was a woman who knew how to fuck. Unlike Bella, allegedly.

  Damn it, why was I picturing being her sexual savior? Being a goddamn hero to the rich girl? It was stupid.

  Bella was fingering the diamonds on the tiara in her lap. “I don’t want a counselor. I don’t even want to talk.” She looked over at me from under those long eyelashes. “I just want you to fuck me until I forget everything.”

  Now that almost had me driving off the road. She had no idea how hot she was and how much I wanted to push inside her tight body. I had never heard her say “fuck” before. It should have been a red flag for me to retreat, but I had already told her no once when she was still engaged. Only an idiot would turn her down twice.

  I was driving along the coast and I couldn’t risk staring at her too long or we’d end up going off a cliff, but I did shoot her an intense glance. “Now that is something I can do.”

  “Really?” she asked, sounding both breathless and giddy.

  It made my cock throb in my jeans. “Really. I’m supposed to work tonight, but your offer sounds better. I’ll get someone to switch shifts with me.” Since my mother was already planning to watch Camp that wouldn’t matter.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  That amused me. “Thank me after I’ve made you come.” I was looking forward to the challenge.

  “Oh!” She gave a small nod. “Okay. Best of luck to you.”

  Bella sounded so polite I laughed out loud. “I’m not going on a job interview. I’m going down on you.”

  “No. No, you’re not. I already told you I don’t like that.”

  “You’ll like it.” That was something I didn’t doubt. She just needed to be led to that point.

  “But—”

  “If you want me to stay, don’t argue with me,” I told her.

  Her jaw dropped. “Well, that’s mean.”

  I shot her a grin. “You’re used to people blowing smoke up your ass. I’m not going to do that.”

  “I certainly hope not.”

  Her voice sounded prim, prudish, but her expression gave her away. She was amused.

  Pulling down the road that would take us to the cabin, or shack in more exact terms, I realized I didn’t have any condoms on me. That was going to put a dent in my plans. But we could work around it for the afternoon, then I would have to go to the store anyway. There wasn’t any food and I wouldn’t trust the water for drinking.

  “If I say I don’t like something, you will stop, right?” she asked, sounding timid and vulnerable.

  That had me slamming on the brakes and turning to her. “Yes. You have my word on that.” I put the car in park. “That is not what I meant.” I reached out and touched her smooth cheek, her skin so soft and flawless. “I just meant that you’re going to want it. I know you are.”

  “You’re kind of arrogant,” she murmured.

  I gave her a smirk. “I think it’s called being an alpha male. Women love them, haven’t you heard?”

  “I guess that’s why I’m sitting here,” she said.

  That made me shake my head. “No, you’re sitting here because your former fiancé is a dick and you are brave as fuck to dump him.” I meant that. She was a badass for pulling the plug. I could only imagine the chaos that was going on back at that church, and she had known that would happen.

  “I don’t feel very brave. I should have called it off last week when I found out.”

  “Better late than never.”

  Bella was biting her lip. “Hey. Don’t worry,” I said. “You’re entitled to your feelings, you know.”

  She nodded. “I am worried. But I feel free at the same time. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah. It totally does. Now let’s check out this shithole I brought you to.”

  “It’s very rustic,” she said, peering out the window.

  That made me laugh. Bella was polite, always. She had a gift of putting a positive spin on the world’s crappiest situation. I guess that made her an optimist. “That’s one way to put it.”

  I got out of the car and went around and opened the door for her. I held out my hand. She took it and attempted to push herself out of the car. I was about to give her a firm tug because all that fabric seemed to be holding her in place, then thought better of it. I eyed her shoes dubiously. “You might want to take those off,” I said, pointing to them. They were covered in rhinestones or diamonds or whatever the fuck, and had a very high heel. We were on a dirt driveway. I had visions of her taking a facer and me having to drive her to the emergency room.

  Bella hiked her skirt up, displaying long, tan, shimmery legs. She had some kind of lotion on her that had every inch of skin sparkling from ankle to thigh. Like she had been dipped in gold powder. I wondered how high up that glitter went. My mouth went dry as she bent over to slip off her shoe. Her bronze legs were on display, and now so were the swells of her breasts, pushing up and out of the top of her gown. What kind of a fucked-up fantasy was I having that I actually liked that she was in a wedding dress? Kiss the bride and all that shit, without having to put a ring on her finger. Man, I was a bastard.

  But I was what I was. I had been raised with a secret even my siblings didn’t know and I had a skewed perspective on relationships, marriage in particular.

  At the moment I was completely turned on by Bella the bride.

  “All set?” I asked.

  She raised her head, flipping her hair back off her face. I had a vision of those perfect curls surrounding me as she sucked my cock. I remembered the advice of my favorite uncle. Never look down on someone unless they’re giving you head. I needed to totally give up my attitude about her being a rich girl. Bella seemed to have a good heart. Better than me.

  “Come here, princess,” I murmured. “Let me help you stand up.”

  I hoped she didn’t stop and think about the irony of this being her wedding night.

  Then again, there was something so fucking perfect about that.

  I couldn’t wait to see what sexy lingerie she had on under those layers of white virginal fabric.

  Chapter 6

  With my shoes and my skirt bundled up in my left hand, I took Christian’s hand with my right and let him haul me out of the car. I gingerly crossed the dirt yard and followed him through the doorway. The inside of the cabin wasn’t as bad as Christian had been threatening. It was a little dusty and sparse, but it was country cute and appeared to be used on a regular basis. There was lots of oak and floral patterns. It had a small kitchen, seating area, and a queen-size bed with a brass headboard. A decorative pillow propped a
gainst the regular pillows read Cabin Life.

  Christian seemed surprised that it was in as good a shape as it was. “I didn’t know anyone ever came here, to be honest,” he said. “I mean, not since we were kids. Then in high school Cain and I used to bring girls here.”

  That made me give him a rueful look. “So nothing has changed?” I bent over, holding on to the small kitchen table, and slipped my shoes back on. My dress was too long without their height.

  He just grinned and started poking around, looking in cupboards. “Guess not. But it seems someone in my family has a secret, because this looks clean and in use. Make yourself at home. I’ll go get your bag out of the car.”

  My God, what was I doing? This was so far removed from what was supposed to be happening today that it was surreal. Mind-boggling. As Christian went back out the front door I paced the small cabin in my heels and chewed my lip. I had to call Bradley. I owed it to him to speak to him even though my stomach said be a coward and just ghost him.

  I took a deep breath and looked at my phone.

  Where the hell are you?

  That was from my mother.

  Get your ass to this church right now.

  That was Bradley.

  My gut tightened. Closing my eyes, I set the phone on the table, called Bradley, and put it on speaker. I didn’t want to hear his voice in my ear.

  “Bella, sweetheart,” he said, voice sounding muffled. “Whatever is going on with you, let’s deal with it tomorrow. Come back here and let’s get married. I’ll just tell people you weren’t feeling good. We’ll only be an hour behind schedule.”

  That feeling like I couldn’t breathe came back full force. “Bradley, I can’t marry you. I can’t just be okay with you sleeping with other women. I just can’t live like that.”

  There was a pause, then he spoke. “So you decided to wait until thirty minutes before our wedding to tell me that?” His tone shifted, grew disgusted. “That’s not bitchy at all.”

  At first I thought I deserved that, then I realized he was the one who had shit on our relationship. “I just found out literally days ago! It’s a lot to process so soon before our wedding. And I’m glad I found out. I can’t believe I’ve been stupid enough not to see what you were capable of.”

  “Well, you’re not the smartest girl I’ve ever met, that’s for sure. But you are supposed to be the nice girl, Bel. Not the fucking cunt who bails on our wedding.”

  His words shocked me. I had never heard him talk like that in our four years together, and it became completely obvious that I didn’t really know Bradley at all. He had shown me what he wanted to so I would marry him and be his corporate wife, his eye candy.

  I didn’t know if I could even believe he actually loved me.

  Christian came back in and heard Bradley’s words. He gave a snort of derision.

  But I barely even noticed because I was so ticked off at Bradley. Who says something like that to the woman they were planning on marrying? I tried to think of a scathing response, but I’m not good at the burn. I never have been. I always default to something generic that winds up sounding tepid and nothing like the internal rage or upset I’m experiencing.

  “You…you are such a jerk!”

  There it was again. That was not exactly going to cut him.

  Exasperated, I reached out and tapped the button to end the call. Hanging up on him was at least something. “Argh!” I started to scroll through my texts, but there were too many.

  Some were concerned, like Kennedy and Soph, but others were abrasive, accusatory. Bradley’s mother gave a more polite version of what he had said. My mother sounded at first worried, then frantic, then just flat-out pissed off. The wedding planner had called four times.

  Christian was watching me, having set my bag down on the kitchen countertop. “You okay?” he asked.

  I tucked my phone into the pocket of the overnight bag and gave him a brilliant, if somewhat hysterical, smile. I had gone from sad and upset to mad as hell. “I’m fine. I can tell you now I don’t feel as guilty over leaving as I did. Bradley is a creep.” And I was a fool. But we would take that thought out and dust it off and dissect it later. Right now I couldn’t deal with it.

  I just needed to shed this gown and be distracted.

  By a hot guy like Christian.

  “You shouldn’t feel guilty. And I think creep is understating it.” Christian came over and cupped my cheek with his rough hand. His pale blue eyes searched my face. “You’re a very sweet girl, do you know that?”

  “Thank you,” I murmured, because I felt like he meant it as a compliment, not a slam.

  Then he kissed me. It was a soft, light kiss, a teasing brush of his lips over mine. It was a whisper. Like he was afraid to startle me or break me.

  The numbness I had been feeling, then the white-hot anger, both faded. I felt an eerie sense of calm settle over me. Christian’s kiss was like warm honey, slow and sweet. I sighed, feeling relief. Just pure and instant relief.

  “It’s like I just lost ten pounds of worry,” I said. “I had no idea how stressed I was.” Well, I had. I just hadn’t realized how amazing it would feel to make a decision to move on. “I feel like I just saved myself from the devil. That sounds so dramatic, but it’s true.”

  “Let me rub your shoulders. Sit down at the table.”

  I stared at Christian, unsure. “Is that like a code for something kinky?” I needed buildup. Yes, I had flirted with Christian, indicated I wanted to have sex with him, and I did. But maybe not right now.

  He let out a crack of laughter. “What? My God, we need to get you the Urban Dictionary app. No, that’s not a code for sex. I’m going to massage the tension out of your shoulders. Sit down.” He pushed me toward the table.

  “Really?” I was touched. In my experience men liked to receive massages, not give them. And usually they wanted their head rubbed, as in their penis, not their shoulders.

  I sat down, crushing the back of my dress. Not that it mattered. If I didn’t think it had resale value I would set the thing on fire. But my father had paid some serious money for it and I could post it for sale online. So I smoothed the skirt and tried not to fantasize about burning it in a blazing bonfire while I danced naked around it.

  Christian had firm, strong hands, yet he didn’t go in and just aggressively knead my muscles. His touch was slow, sensual. I sighed in pleasure. “That feels really good.” I could sense his body behind me, hear his breathing in the quiet cabin.

  Another sigh escaped before I could stop it. I hadn’t realized how completely tense the muscles in my neck and shoulders were. They were like steel rods. He bent over and shifted my hair out of the way. When he kissed the back of my neck, I shivered, not from surprise, but because it felt good. For a second I thought he was going to drop his hands down onto my breasts, and I was shocked that I felt a sliver of excited anticipation. I didn’t feel nervous at all.

  But he just kept massaging me until I felt like a limp noodle. My head was lobbing to the side.

  My dress was the only thing preventing me from totally relaxing. It felt as suffocating as the idea of marrying Bradley had. The corset was crushing my rib cage and the skirt was heavy. “Can you help me take my dress off?” I murmured. “It’s really hot.”

  “I would love to.”

  I wasn’t trying to be seductive, but I wasn’t unaware of what it would imply. I liked the idea of Christian sweeping me off my feet, making me forget the reality of my life. Even if it wasn’t mind-blowing sex, it would serve its purpose. Yet I had mixed feelings about it. Like revenge sex, it wasn’t really my style.

  But it shouldn’t be about Bradley. Nothing should be about Bradley anymore.

  I stood up. I wasn’t nervous about Christian seeing me in my underwear. I wore very tiny bikinis on the beach and have decent body confi
dence. I should, after all the years of low carbs and Pilates and spray tanning. Not to mention ripping hair off where it wasn’t wanted and adding it where it was, with eyelash and hair extensions.

  So when Christian started to unlace the corset on the back of my dress, I held the bodice against my breasts so it didn’t fall right away, not out of modesty, but because I couldn’t stand the thought of crushing the dress. I wanted to both destroy the gown and savor it. Maybe that was my life in a nutshell.

  “It’s undone. Now what?” Christian said. “I feel like I have to haul you up and out of it or something.”

  “It needs to come off over my head, not down my hips. You need to lift it up and over.” I raised my arms straight up.

  Christian pulled from the neckline up, but it got stuck around my chin. “Ah,” I said. “Something’s wrong.”

  He tugged harder, making me rock on my heels.

  “What’s wrong is that this thing is tighter than a straitjacket. What the fuck, how were you even breathing?” Christian sounded genuinely bewildered. “I have to go from the bottom I think.”

  He shifted and I felt him gathering the skirt from the hem, his hands brushing over my ankles and calves. He made a sound like he was spitting. “Holy shit, I think I just inhaled a rhinestone.”

  I started to laugh, the fabric still enveloping my face. “Swarovski crystals, not rhinestones.” My voice was muffled behind the bodice. “Help, it’s getting hot in here!” Plus I definitely had the giggles from the pure ridiculousness of the whole situation. It was like being slaphappy.

  Christian lifted the entire skirt up, gathering it around my waist. Fresh air wafted over my legs and my bare butt. I momentarily worried because I was wearing a thong and that was a teeny bit awkward, but there were gobs of fabric between his face and my ass so I didn’t think he could see a damn thing. I certainly couldn’t. His hands went under the fabric then, without warning, and slid up over my hips.

  My laughter choked off. He went up, up, over the sides of my breasts, his forearms holding up the skirt of my dress. I shivered, but then his touch went higher, brushing my cheeks and ears as he lifted the bodice up off my head. The skirt dragged over my face, but the constriction of the corset being gone was a sweet relief. Another second and I was completely free, the only thing obstructing my view and breathing my disheveled hair. I brushed it back. “Oh geez, thanks.”