by M. N. Forgy
“Open your eyes, Charlie.” Landon breathes heavily against my lips. I slowly peel my eyes open, finding his. The green mixed with spots of brown reminds me of a rainforest after a hostile storm. He pulls his body back and thrusts himself into me in one swift movement. I buck against him and whimper loudly with pain. The fit is tight as he pushes every inch of his length deeply inside me, filling me. My nails anchor themselves into the skin of his neck, and I inhale deeply as my body tries to accommodate his size.
Landon’s eyebrows furrow as he thrusts again, a little slower this time. The pain searing through my lower half isn’t any better than the first time he drove into me, and I let out a small cry. He pulls off me and looks between us, finding the evidence of my innocence staining his cock and myself.
“What the fuck, Charlie?” he growls, trying to pull off me completely. I dig my heels into his ass, pushing him back onto me.
He sighs heavily, closing his eyes.
“Do you know what you just gave me, Charlie?” he pants, his tone an edge of angry. I furrow my own brow and swallow the sudden lump in my throat.
“I didn’t give you anything. It’s nothing,” I whisper, pushing my hips upward, encouraging him to continue. I need him to continue; my body demands we finish. What’s virginity anyway? It’s nothing. I didn’t give him anything. It’s not any different than a man’s first time. The blood spilt from a virgin is just evidence that she’s passed from being innocent into something sinful.
“You just gave me a piece of yourself. I’ll be forever planted in your soul now, Charlie,” he whispers in my ear, brushing hair from my face. “Anytime you get turned on, any partner you have sex with in the future…you will always think of me. You lost a piece of yourself and gave it to me.”
He confirmed I wasn’t his, that I would be elsewhere having sex with others. Not him. That should stop me from continuing this charade. Realization should flood my mind, but I’m too high on want to care. I want him to keep fucking me, to take my mind to a place of pleasure rather than pain. To take me from my fucked-up life, even if it’s temporary.
“I didn’t give you anything,” I repeat, contradicting my thoughts. I push his ass cheeks with my heels, wanting him to keep going. A piece of me knows he’s right, though. I just sewed a piece of Landon into my soul, and now I’ll never escape him.
He continues to slowly thrust in and out of me. The pain that once ripped through me finally starts to climb into a blossom of pleasure.
“You chose this. You picked me. Now, you’ll never escape me,” he grunts, pushing himself up on his fists as if he is doing a push-up. “I’ll be rooted in the base of your memory forever.” He drives his cock into me, making my breasts bounce with the force.
“Yes!” I moan, my eyes heavy with arousal. Having a piece of Landon in me forever doesn’t so sound bad.
I turn my head, watching his arms flex and bulge with every drive of his hips. I can’t help but reach out and hold onto his biceps as he rocks into me. He leans down and nips my earlobe, making my mouth fall open and a whimper escape from my lips.
His dick hits me just right, the head of it creating a sensation I’ve never felt before. It’s indescribable and has my eyes rolling into the back of my head. My legs spread wider as I give him all of me.
“Oh, God,” I cry, arching my hips upward, wanting more of that blissful pressure rising in my core.
He leans down, takes my nipple between his teeth and gives it a light tug. My eyes flutter, and I let out a full-body mewl when I slowly slip over an edge of ecstasy from the warmth of his mouth on my bud. The scruff of his cheeks causes a delicious burn against the sensitive flesh of my breast.
I lazily open my eyes, finding his pinning me to the spot. The way he looks at me, it’s as if he can’t get enough.
“Why do I feel so drawn to you?” I blurt mindlessly, my mind only feeling the pleasure Landon inflicts upon me.
He shakes his head, breaking eye contact before he thrusts into me hard, his dick hitting that spot again, and again. Like a match finding its spark, I grasp the sheets, hanging on for dear life as my body drums with an intensity that leaves me holding my breath. Warmth ignites in my abdomen, racing through my body like wildfire. My head pushes into the mattress, my body heaving as it chases that realm of ecstasy into oblivion. I scream, the feeling of him fucking me hard, the feeling of my orgasm crashing into one internal thought: euphoria.
The sensation of falling but flying at the same time slowly dissipates, allowing me to finally grab that morsel of oxygen I need so desperately. Landon roars a feral moan, stilling above me as he comes. His body suddenly relaxes and he falls on top of me. His weight nearly crushes me.
I turn my head, finding the red glow of the lights from the hotel. I yawn, my body aching and suddenly exhausted. That thought of wanting to feel or being wanted, even if it was just for a few minutes, clouded my better judgment. If I was smart, I wouldn’t have slept with Landon, but how could I resist the draw between us? How could I possibly turn down a man who looks at me like I’m Heaven?
I sigh. Landon is going to rip my heart out. But the worst part is, I gave him way more than that. I just gave him my mind, body, and soul. I gave it all to him.
EIGHT
CHARLIE
The overwhelming feeling of being warm wakes me. With my body sweaty and sticking to the sheets beneath me, I finally open my eyes.
“Fuck,” I whisper as the hotel room comes into focus. The night before rolls through my mind: Chasen and his friends and… Landon. I sigh at the thought of Landon then jerk my head up and look for him, but he’s not next to me. I sit up, noticing his clothes, on the floor the night before, are gone. Frowning, I climb off the bed. I scamper into the living area still naked, my feet padding against the floor echoing through the suite. Nothing. He’s not here. I nibble my bottom lip, unsure what to do, when my eyes catch a note on the kitchen island.
You need this more than I do.
-L
Looking down, I find two stacks of cash, making me gasp in shock. An uncontrollable shame bubbles through my limbs, my lungs refusing the entry of air to the point I collapse on the floor.
Money. After sex. I shake my head, and tears pour off my cheeks onto the handwritten note. I bite my bottom lip angrily, my teeth nearly piercing the skin. I knew sleeping with him would be a bad idea, but I was too high on lust to care. A small piece of me, a small juvenile piece of me, thought maybe I could be wrong, and I would wake up to him displaying a full menu of breakfast items this morning because he didn’t know what I would want to eat. I thought he realized how alone and misunderstood I felt, that he would be here this morning. I’ve never felt more alone than I do right now. The ache in my chest never burned with such emptiness before.
I run my hand under my nose, sniffling the uncontrollable snot back, and roll my eyes. A sudden laugh escapes my mouth. Those fairy tales might exist for some people, but not me. I’m meant to be alone.
“I was so stupid to think he would want anything to do with the likes of me,” I grit out loud. “Hell, he probably has a stuck-up wife back home, or at the very least dozens of girls throwing themselves at him.”
If the Lord ever tried to tell me anything before, it was never as clear as this. I get it; I’m a whore. Sex then money. I stand on wobbly legs, finding the money sitting perfectly.
“There must be a thousand dollars here,” I whisper, picking it up and thumbing the stacks. I don’t know whether to be pleased or disgusted by the amount. Hell, I basically just sold my virginity to him.
I laugh—an uncontrollable, belly-cramping laugh. I laugh at the fact that even though Landon slipped out, paying me for my pathetic way of life, I would do it all over again. The way my body, heart, and soul connected to him last night, the magnetism I had toward him, was so surreal. I shake my head. He’s right; I’ll never forget last night, never forget him.
“Asshole,” I exclaim, slapping the cash back on the counter. I’ve bee
n looking out for myself since day one, and I’ve been fine.
Besides, I should be used to this feeling after the last twenty-four hours. I’ve grown accustomed to its ache deep in my chest. I slip my black dress on and notice small streaks of blood between my thighs. “Shit,” I whisper.
Screw it, I’ll get a shower at home. I don’t want to be in this fucking place any longer than I need to be. I sit on the leather couch and put my heels on, eyeing the money on the counter. I’d be stupid not to take it. Jayden and I need it desperately. It’ll pay rent and put food on the table.
I shove the stacks of cash down the cups of my dress. Fuck it, I earned it. Hell, I even bled for it.
Guilt strikes my chest as the cool cash sweeps between my breasts. The demeanor of staying strong and keeping my chin up faltering by the second. I fear I’ll never find my place in the world. I’ll always be second class, and treated like dirt. I thought Landon and I had something, a connection of some sort. I’m afraid this is a wound that will turn into a dark scar, changing my view on my life.
I take the elevator to the main floor, and the lobby is huge. Brown and tan marbled floors make up the space, and a large glass dome ceiling looks over the entire lobby. I look down at myself and swallow nervously. I’m so out of place here.
Walking through the lobby, I hold my head down, my hair shielding my face. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I can see the staff look at me with a wary eye. I find women grabbing their men a little tighter, as if they’re threatened by me. I hurry my pace, trying to get away from the cynical glares. As soon as I reach the outside, I tilt my head back and inhale deeply. My chest heaves, taking in large gulps of fresh air.
I pull my shit together and start my walk of shame back home. Finally, after walking for what seems like forever, graffiti greets me at the last block, telling me I’m almost home. Strangely, I take odd comfort in the spray-painted buildings after the experience I just had. I know I belong here. That place Landon took me to was anything but inviting.
I turn the corner and find an ambulance and two cop cars parked close to my apartment. I watch as men shuffle in a green dumpster, pulling a woman with red hair out. She has nothing on but red heels and a short, black leather skirt. Her body is purplish with dark spots around her throat and legs, evidence that she’s been dead for hours.
I gasp and cover my mouth at the sight of her. I’ve never seen a dead person before.
“I warned her,” comes from behind me, making me jump and turn. A black woman with caramel-colored hair puffed out, stands behind me with her hands on her hips. She has on a skimpy gold dress that is way too short, with black ripped stockings up her thighs. Her makeup is heavy, and her red lips are bright.
“What?” I ask confused. The glitter on her chest blinding me, I hold my hand above my eyes to shield them.
“I warned her, you can’t work these streets without a pimp,” she explains, shaking her head. Her eyes trail from the scene of the dead woman to me, eyeing me from head to toe with an arched brow. “You should get a pimp.”
“What?” I give a weak laugh. Her face doesn’t show any humor, making my own fall. “I’m not—”
“Right, none of us are,” she interrupts, plucking a cigarette from the black purse slung over her chest. ”I’m just saying, you want to run these streets? You need protection, baby. You find yourself needing one, find Daddy Mick over at the Fever Hotel.” She inhales a large drag from her cigarette, her eyes trailing my chest. I look down at what she’s looking at and notice the cash trying to escape the top of my dress.
“Shit.” I roll my eyes and push it back in place.
“Mmhhmm,” she murmurs, her lips pursed. “I’m telling you, baby, it’s safer.” She walks away, puffing a cloud of cigarette smoke, her shiny heels clicking against the pavement as she sashays.
I glance back at the green dumpster, finding the crew closing up the girl in a black body bag. The sound of the zipper has goose bumps racing up my spine.
***
My body tenses as I walk down my street, images of Chasen and his buddies grabbing me ruthlessly triggering in my mind. What a bunch of assholes. The angry flashback slowly fades, leaving Landon and all his glory when he rescued me. A warm smile covers my face at the thought.
Looking at my apartment, I find our landlord Henry out smoking a cigarette, watching the cops load the dead woman’s body in the ambulance. I stop. My first reaction is to run in the other direction, but then I remember I actually have money to catch us up on our rent. His eyes light up as I grab some cash from my chest.
“Don’t worry. I got the money.” I smile.
“Your girl already paid,” he remarks, blowing out a puff of smoke.
“What?” I question in disbelief, but he just flicks his cigarette and walks inside, ignoring me.
What the hell? How did Jayden get money to pay our rent? I huff and hurry up the steps.
Seconds after I enter the apartment, Jayden shows up.
“Holy shit! You look like, well, shit,” Jayden insults while walking in the door.
“Gee, thanks,” I huff. I glance at myself in the cracked bathroom mirror and agree. I do look like shit. My makeup is smeared, and my hair looks like I was just fucked seven shades from Sunday. I kind of was. I sigh and throw Jayden’s heels over in her area before heading to my side.
“How did you manage to pay our rent?” I ask, sitting down on the bed.
Jayden shrugs. “I have my ways,” she remarks.
I growl, sick of that answer. She used it with the ID.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
She turns, her eyes angry. “I said don’t worry about it. I don’t need your judgment. I get things we need using what I have to my advantage. I survive,” she mutters the last part, pointing at her sweaty chest with determination.
“You use what to your—” I pause as she throws her hands out to her sides, showcasing herself. Her body.
“You mean you sleep with men?” I frown and bite my inner cheek at the thought of her sleeping around to pay our rent. The feeling of guilt riddles up my spine. I should have taken better care of her , tried harder to get a job.
I open my glossy eyes and find a confident Jayden, waiting for my reply with her hands on her hips. I tilt my head to the side, curious how she’s so sure of herself and the way she goes about it. I sold myself to Chasen. I just sold my virginity to Landon, and I feel so shameful I can’t even look at myself.
I don’t see my life getting any better than this. I have no job. I got a shitty education, and no man is committing himself to me. I’m white trash, and that’s all I will have in my future. My life has never been smooth sailing. I’m programmed for only the worst things the world has to offer. It makes me question who the hell my mother was, and the karma she left in her trail. I guess I can’t ever say she never gave me anything.
“Like I said, Charlie, I don’t need your judgment,” Jayden snaps, catching me from my thoughts. I sigh and shove my hands down my chest, pulling out the stacks of cash, revealing my own sins.
“What the fuck is that?” Jayden exclaims, rushing to my bed.
I shake my head, eyeing the money and laughing nervously. “I used what I have to my advantage.” Jayden’s eyes shoot to mine in knowing before she falls back on my bed in a fitful of laughter.
“It’s not funny, Jayden,” I respond seriously, slapping her leg to get her attention. “I feel…” I stop short, closing my eyes.
The bed dips when Jayden sits up, and her hand rubs my back. “Don’t feel ashamed, Charlie,” she comforts, her tone soothing.
“But I do. I feel disgusting. I—” I pause. “I feel cheap, and I feel used.”
Jayden grabs my face harshly, making me look her in the eyes. “Charlie, we need money to survive. We have no food, and the landlord is itching to kick us out. We can’t get jobs. We are fucked. We do what we need to so we can live. Don’t feel ashamed of yourself for living,” she justifies, her
soft tone gone. “It gets easier, I promise.”
I pull my head from her grip, looking at the new sheets I bought from the extra money Chasen gave me. The feeling of being worthless is ruthless, a pain riddling in my gut that’s shameful. But all the things I have from it… clothes, a phone, food, even our rent is caught up.
“I can’t lie. Having the money after something that seems so insignificant such as sex—”
“It’s nice, right?” Jayden laughs. “I always find the hottest guys. It’s like a challenge, ya know?” I raise a brow at her goals in life. “They usually pay the most, surprisingly.”
“How long have you done this?” I ask, my eyebrows narrowed.
Jayden shrugs, picking the fray of her shorts. “Whenever I needed to,” she responds, like she’s talking about coloring her hair. I shake my head and look at the counter of food. It’s disappearing quickly.
“Did you see that woman they were pulling out of the trash?” I question, changing the subject.
Jayden closes her eyes and runs her hand through her crazy hair. “I did,” she replies grimly.
“She was a prostitute,” I point out.
“Gah, I hate that word,” Jayden growls, shaking her head.
I shrug. “It is what it is, Jayden; no need to sugarcoat it.” I look up at her, my jaw clenched. “I’m a whore. A prostitute. I sleep with men and get paid for it,” I whisper. Finally voicing the truth of what I am, what I’m destined for hurts, but not as bad as it should. I know I should try again at finding a job. But I know I won’t, I can’t. Jayden and I are on the run, and my resources are limited. Screwing men for money puts food on the table and keeps us off the radar.
“I prefer ‘escort’,” Jayden huffs, leaning back on my bed.
“Some woman told me if I was going to work the streets, I needed protection. She told me I should go to a motel and ask for a guy name Mick,” I inform her, fidgeting with the money on the bed. If Jayden is going to do this, I’d rather her not do it behind my back and get hurt in the process. I’d rather her be safe, that we were both safe. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her. She’s the only family I have.
