Marx Girl

by T L Swan

  “She’s gone for good this time,” I reply.

  Belinda catches my eye out on the dance floor, dancing sexily, and she curls her finger up at me in a ‘come here’ signal.

  I smirk and shake my head.

  “Well, I hope you’re going to take Goldilocks home and fuck Bridget out of your system,” Ethan offers as his eyes stay glued to her. “It would be a dame shame to waste that body tonight.”

  I drink my beer and my eyes fall back to her as she writhes sexily to the rhythmic beat.

  Maybe that’s what I need.

  It’s 1:00 a.m. and I’m scrolling through my Instagram feed. A couple of the boys have picked up women and I sit at the table with Rick. “I’m going to go home soon, man,” he tells me.

  “Yeah, me, too.” I sigh.

  I’m closest to Rick. He is in a similar position to me and we have been together in the army since we were seventeen. I talk to him more than anyone.

  “You going to call her?”

  I shake my head. “No point.”

  He looks out over the club. “That fucking sucks, man.”

  I nod. “It does.”

  “Hey, you want to come back and stay at our house? Ally would love to see you in the morning.”

  I smile. “No, mate, but thanks anyway. I’m going to head home after I drink this beer.”

  He stands. “Gym tomorrow?” I shake his hand and his eyes linger on my face a little longer than usual.

  “Yeah.” I smile sadly.

  With a pat on the shoulder, he leaves me alone.

  I scroll back through my feed and see that Bridget has posted a picture. I click on it. She hasn’t posted anything since I last saw her. It’s a picture of a bird flying over a canyon and the caption is:

  Fly free and high

  My stomach tightens. That’s her message to me.

  That’s her goodbye message.

  I drop my head and stare at the carpet for an extended time.

  This is fucked.

  I hate this feeling.

  I need to get out of here. I stand to make my way to the bathroom, when Belinda steps in front of me, effectively blocking my way. “Hi, Ben.” Her hands drop to my behind as we jostle in the crowd. “Did you forget about coming and finding me?”

  A trace of a smile crosses my face. “I did.”

  She runs her two hands over my chest. “God, it’s been forever since we’ve been together.”

  I watch her as a million thoughts run through my mind. “It has,” I say on autopilot.

  “Nobody fucks me like you do,” she whispers sexily.

  My eyes drop to her lips.

  “I need a real man to give it to me hard and good.”

  My hand drops to her hip. “Is that so?” I whisper.

  BRIDGET

  I sit on the front steps of Ben’s building on top of my suitcase. It’s 1:00 a.m. and he isn’t answering his phone. Fuck’s sake. I wanted to surprise him but now it’s all turning to shit. The plane was delayed and I got in late, and now he’s not answering. I’m going to wait another half hour and then I will have to go find a hotel or something.

  Where is he?

  What if he’s not even in the States?

  No, I know he is. Joshua spoke to him just today… no, yesterday. Wait, what day is it?

  I glance up at the building; he’s probably just asleep in bed.

  Bloody hell, this is a real fuck-up.

  Luckily I’m not tired, because it’s early morning back home.

  The big, heavy door opens and a security guard comes out. “Oh, can I help you?”

  “I’m waiting for Ben Statham. Apartment 201?” I ask hopefully.

  “Is he expecting you?”

  “No, I wanted to surprise him but he’s not answering his phone.”

  “Let me call up to his apartment for you.”

  I smile broadly. “Okay, thanks.” I go to follow him in, but he turns.

  “I’m sorry, Miss, you can’t come into the building without a resident.”

  “Oh.” I roll my eyes. That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it? “Okay, I’ll wait out here.”

  I take my suitcase and sit on the top of it. This indestructible, hard suitcase is the best thing I have ever bought.

  He comes back out a few moments later. “He’s not answering his intercom or his phone. I’m sorry—there’s nothing I can do.”

  I nod. “That’s okay.” I stare back out onto the road. “I’ll wait a few moments and then I’ll leave.”

  “Can I call you a cab?”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll call one when I’m ready.” I stare back up the road, into the darkness.

  “I’m just in here if you need me,” he tells me before disappearing inside.

  A set of car headlights turn into the street and I sit up on my suitcase.

  It’s a cab and my stomach flips. It pulls up out the front and the door opens.

  They stay in the car for a moment, as if discussing something.

  Ben hops out and I smile hopefully. Oh, wait… there’s someone with him.

  15

  Bridget

  Ben looks up, and for a brief moment I see hope in his eyes before his shutters come down and he nods my way.

  My heart starts to thump.

  Who’s in the cab with him?

  He stands to the side, and a man hops out and he laughs out loud.

  “Bridget!” the man calls.

  I smile. I just want to run to Ben, but I don’t want to embarrass myself. I stay standing on the spot by the door.

  The man rushes up the steps to greet me. “Hello, I’m Rick.” He grabs me in an embrace. “So nice to meet you.” He holds me at arm’s length to study me, and then turns around and punches Ben hard in the arm. “Fucking told you.” He laughs.

  He runs back down the steps, back to the cab, and turns. “Whenever you two are finished doing whatever the hell you are going to do, try and fit Ally and me in for a dinner.”

  Ben puts his hands into his jeans pockets and watches the cab drive away.

  His eyes come back to me and I wither. He doesn’t seem too happy to see me. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  Fuck.

  In my mind we were going to have a storybook reunion, where he would run to me and we would kiss. He would declare his undying love and tell me how much he’s missed me. I should have known better, because nothing is ever storybook when it comes to Ben.

  “Hi,” I whisper.

  “Hello, Bridget,” he replies calmly, clearly standing his ground.

  My face falls. “You don’t seem too happy to see me.”

  “Why are you here?” he asks.

  “Because…” I swallow the lump in my throat. “Because I love you.”

  His eyes search mine, but he doesn’t reply.

  I take his hands in mine. “I’ve missed you, Ben,” I whisper. “I’ve worked it out now, and it’s going to be okay.”

  His eyes drop to our entwined hands.

  “Do I get a kiss hello?” I murmur.

  His cold eyes rise to meet mine. “Let’s go inside.” He turns and walks up to my suitcase to wheel it inside, and I follow with my heart freefalling from my chest.

  He’s angry.

  We ride the elevator in silence and I can smell alcohol on him. “You went out tonight?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  The elevator door opens and he strides out into the corridor. I have to nearly run to keep up with him. I stand behind him nervously as he unlocks the door to his apartment.

  For years I’ve wondered what Ben’s home would look like. Now I’m here, it doesn’t seem real. These were definitely not the circumstances I thought I would be seeing his place in.

  “How long have you lived here?” I ask.

  “About ten years.”

  “In this apartment for ten years?” I ask, trying to make small talk.

  “No, I lived somewhere else in Washington. I moved here about six or seven years ago.�
��

  “You moved here when you worked for Joshua?”

  ‘’Yes, I bought this place when I was with Joshua.” He rolls his lips as he thinks for a moment. “He’s the one who found it, actually. We came home one weekend and bought it.”

  “Joshua has been here?” I ask, surprised.

  “Many times.” He unlocks the final lock with the key.

  “Oh.” This is news. Interesting.

  “It’s probably a mess,” he says as we walk in slowly. “I didn’t expect company when I left.”

  The foyer is large with a trendy, huge abstract painting on the wall filled with beautiful greens. A small, thin hallstand sits along the wall.

  “Wow,” I whisper.

  We go through an archway and my mouth falls open. It has a Moroccan feel to it. The walls are white, and tall archways connect the rooms. It’s huge—another warehouse kind of setup. The kitchen is along the left wall, all black and metal with a huge stone bench placed in the middle of it. The lounge room has a large, black leather lounge. The floors are made from dark timber, but different shades of green antique rugs are scattered everywhere. “This is beautiful,” I murmur as I look around.

  The furniture is matching, made from chunky wood, and is super masculine, while somehow having a trendy vibe to it.

  He shrugs and holds his hands out. “It’s home.”

  He pushes my suitcase up against the wall and his eyes come back to me. He puts his hands on his hips defensively.

  “You’re angry,” I whisper.

  He glares at me and his jaw clenches.

  “Ben…” I pause. “I just needed to work through this. I needed some time.”

  His cold eyes hold mine. “I don’t want you to work through anything to settle for me,” he sneers.

  “Ben.” I go to grab him and he pulls out of my reach.

  “Don’t touch me,” he snaps. “The spare room is on the left; make yourself comfortable.” He storms up the hall and slams the door behind him.

  I stand in the lounge room in shock. What the hell was that?

  Fuck’s sake. I shouldn’t have come. I lock the front door and walk into the kitchen to find a glass and pour myself a drink of water as I look around the apartment. I grab my suitcase and drag it up to my room.

  Of course he’s got the shits…fucking asshole. Well, now I’m getting the shits.

  Surely he should understand that I needed some time.

  I now realise just how different Eric is to Ben. Eric panders to me and treats me like a queen. He fusses over me and takes all of my nonsense…while I take Ben’s shit. Have I totally ruined my chances?

  I hear the shower turn on in Ben’s room, and my anger begins to rise.

  I’ve travelled all this way to see him, and I pictured this big, happy reunion, only to get ignored.

  Well, screw him.

  I walk into the bathroom and look around. What is this colour scheme? “Your bathroom needs remodelling,” I yell.

  He doesn’t answer.

  I turn the shower on and get in. With every passing minute a new anger rises until I’m quite sure the whites of my eyes are blazing red.

  He’s the fucking hitman. He’s the one who sort of lied about it, and yet he’s the one who’s angry with me?

  My hot water pressure fades. Grr. I turn my hot water on full so that he has no water pressure in his bathroom.

  Take that, asshole.

  The water pressure disappears again. Oh, don’t you dare take my water. I stand to the side and turn the hot water on full charge so that he’ll have none again.

  Don’t mess with me.

  I hear his shower turn off and I smile, and then I hear his bedroom door snap open.

  Oh shit.

  He barges into the bathroom, wearing nothing but a white towel.

  “What do you think you’re playing at?” he growls.

  I narrow my eyes. “Using all your hot water, what does it look like?”

  “You know, I am fucking pissed off with you. I wouldn’t push me tonight if I were you.”

  “Well, I’m pissed off at you,” I yell.

  He points at me and raises his eyebrows. “You’re pissed off with me?”

  “Yes, you!” I shout. “You should have told me where you worked. Of course I would be shocked.”

  He huffs. “Shocked is an argument. Shocked is the silent treatment. You fucking left me!” he growls. “That’s a little more than shocked, Bridget.”

  “Don’t you scream at me,” I snap.

  “I’ll do whatever I like with you!” he yells.

  We glare at each other, both furious.

  It’s then I notice that he’s just in a towel, and as if he’s having the same epiphany I am, his eyes drop down my naked body.

  The room is hot and steamy, filled with tension.

  His eyes darken and then rise to mine. “Get on the bed.”

  My eyes widen. Huh? ”What?”

  “You heard me. Get on the bed, on your hands and knees.”

  Oh jeez… that’s probably not a good idea at this very moment. “W-what do you want to do to me?”

  “Whatever I fucking well like.” He throws his towel to the floor, and he’s rock-hard and ready.

  My eyes drop to his dick and, unable to help it, I lick my lips. It’s been a long two weeks without him.

  With his eyes locked with mine, he steps into the shower and under the water. He grabs a handful of my hair and drags my head back so that my face comes up to his. He kisses me, all suction and domination. I feel my feet lift off the floor.

  “Ben…” I whimper into his mouth.

  “Get on the bed. We need to work this out.” He grabs my hand and puts it on his dick. I grab a handful of him.

  My insides begin to melt.

  “We need to talk,” I whisper, half-scared of the animalistic look in his eye.

  He bites my bottom lip and I yelp. “No. We need to fuck. Hard.”

  Then he’s on me and I’m pinned against the wall, his hard cock sliding up and over my stomach. His lips are everywhere, on my neck, sucking on my nipples, biting me, kissing me. Then he lifts me against the wall and wraps my legs around his waist before he slams into me.

  “Ahh. You’re going to hurt me!” I cry.

  He slams forward again and he tears my head back by my hair to bring my face mere inches from his. “I’m repaying the favour.”

  He pumps me hard up against the wall and I cry out.

  Oh, fuck… this is so wrong, but so good.

  “The favour of what? Of hurting you?” I whisper as he grabs my legs over his forearms to get deeper. Oh, hell, he’s like an animal. Our bodies slap together hard.

  “Stop fucking talking,” he growls. He pulls me off the wall and walks out of the shower, still inside me, until we get to his bed and he kisses me as he drops my feet to the floor.

  There it is… the hint of tenderness.

  I grab it with both hands and kiss him again. He melts momentarily into it as I grab his face.

  “I love you,” I whisper against his lips.

  He stiffens and then regains his composure. He turns me away from him and pushes me down on the bed, on my hands and knees, and then spreads my legs wider apart.

  “Drop to your elbows,” he commands.

  I shuffle my legs apart and wiggle my behind as a tease. He slaps it hard.

  “Ouch,” I yelp. Fucking hell, this is not a good idea.

  I watch him through my legs. His cock hangs heavily, and pre-ejaculate is dripping from his end. I’m just itching to lick it off.

  He begins to pace behind me, back and forth, back and forth, and I know he’s trying to calm himself down so he doesn’t hurt me. This is how he works. He can’t verbalise his thoughts so he needs the physical contact.

  He’s fighting his instincts to hurt me.

  I turn my head and our eyes lock. “Give it to me, baby. Hurt me for hurting you.”

  He glares at me, his jaw clenches, and
I drop my head to prepare myself for his onslaught.

  Then his lips are tenderly pressing on the dip of my lower back. He gifts me with deep, long licks, and I lift off the bed to meet him. His hands are on my breasts as they hang beneath me, kneading them as if he can’t get enough. He kisses all the way up my back until his teeth graze my neck, and I feel his hard length on my behind. I can feel the trail of pre-ejaculate that he leaves behind.

  Then his tongue drops to my behind and he licks my back entrance.

  My eyes roll back in my head.

  Holy fucking fuck. Ben is the anal master. He taught me how to fuck that way, and I’ve never done it with anyone else since.

  That’s his and his only.

  I watch him through my legs, watch the pleasure on his face as his hard cock hangs between his legs. I watch myself writhe onto his face.

  “Ben,” I moan. Perspiration sheens across my skin and my hair is still wet from our shower.

  I feel his lips curl into a smile and I smile against my pillow. God, this is too good.

  He is just way too fucking good at this. It should be illegal to be this rude.

  I rock back onto his face. Oh, fuck, I need it hard.

  He stands and takes one of my hipbones in his hand and then bends and kisses my lower back tenderly. I smile against my pillow and then he slides his thumb into my behind.

  I moan when he slowly begins to pump it in and out.

  “So tight,” he whispers to himself.

  “That’s your ass only, Ben. Nobody has been there but you,” I murmur into the pillow.

  He stills and then makes a guttural moan, his pumps getting harder.

  Then he stops and leans over me. He gently kisses my shoulder blade. “I can’t fuck you there tonight, angel. I’ll hurt you,” he whispers.

  “No…” I whimper. “I want it.” I remember how intimate it is and I need that tonight. “Ben, give it to me,” I pant as I slowly ride his thumb. “Please, Ben, I need all of you.” God, I want that connection.

  “You have all of me,” he growls. “And you fucking know you do.” He slams into me hard and sends me flying onto the mattress.

  Oh, God.

  With one thumb in my ass and his other hand on my hipbone, he starts to ride me hard. Deep, punishing hits, and I can’t even catch a breath.