Sweet Seduction Sabotage

by Nicola Claire

  Oh God, Kelly, what the hell?

  His breaths were even and deep, I hadn't woken him yet. I still had time to refresh my memory, because right now, not a single damn thing was making any sense. I stared at his back, trying futilely to remember last night. To recollect the events that led me to here; his bed, not mine, in a room I have never seen before with a man I don't freaking know!

  Motherfucker! I bit back the groan that threatened to explode from my lips. A deep seated dread filling my chest up so much I could hardly draw breath. Things were getting a little out of hand.

  Who the fuck are you?

  A good question, lately one I've been asking myself, but apt for right now, right here.

  Who the fuck are you stranger?

  I shifted carefully up onto one elbow and peered over his shoulder to get a decent look at his face. Firm jaw, slight stubble, full, well-kissed lips, straight proud nose.

  I flopped back down on the bed my hands automatically holding my stomach, hoping that would stop me from being sick in a semi-stranger's bed.

  Semi-stranger; tall, dark and handsome had progressed. I did know him, just not that well.

  What the fuck happened last night?

  I shook my head in frustration, regretted the move immediately as the hammer turned into a thousand angry woodpeckers pecking at my fucking head. The groan couldn't be denied, but my bed buddy still did not move.

  I huffed a breath of near hysterical laughter. I probably wore him out, which made me think, how was I faring? I stretched my arms and legs, felt the all too familiar feeling of a robust workout and then the entirely new feeling of utter, sheer unease. My hand skimmed over my inner thighs, providing a modicum of relief. I didn't feel... messy, for want of a better word. We'd used protection then.

  Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. How the fuck did I end up here?

  A tear threatened to spill from my right eye, I brushed it angrily. Damn it, this was so wrong. Didn't I have enough going on right now to be contending with lost nights and naked semi-stranger's in the same bed? A sob crept up my throat. I swallowed it back down, curling in on myself just a little. My arms banded around my stomach, clutching my waist, holding this horrible, unwelcome sensation inside.

  Oh, God. I'd really fucked up big time on this one. I didn't even know his name.

  My eyes closed and I tried to remember if he wore a name-tag, all those times I'd flirted with him innocently in his video store. The same video store I purchased my rentals from each week, when I needed a little excitement and thrills in my nightly routine. Clearly I'd progressed from the Adults Only section to the what-the-fuck-are-you-doing part of the video rental store.

  I couldn't get enough air. My hand scratched at my throat ineffectually trying to increase the oxygen to my lungs. I had to get out of here before he woke up. Finding a new video shop was next on my list, but first things first...

  What the hell happened last night?

  My head swung towards the still sleeping form of video-shop-semi-stranger, who was making little snuffling noises in his sleep. I stared and stared, and tried to bring up something of what brought me here, but nothing surfaced from the quagmire that was my drunkenly abused brain.

  What was the last thing I remembered, then?

  Leaving Sweet Seduction after a particularly harrowing Friday afternoon. The city was gearing up for Christmas, so many shoppers, so many people needing a break, a cup of coffee, a chocolate treat. We were rushed off our feet, and Gen has to take it easy, what with being five months pregnant and all. So that left a lot of work for Lucas and me.

  Then what?

  I stopped off at a little Mexican restaurant and grabbed a bite to eat, then decided to see if Spike was at his usual haunt. I remember that, clear as a bell. He wasn't there, but that never stopped me from having a good time. Several disjointed images shot through my mind, becoming more and more jumbled as my alcohol intake increased.

  What was I trying to outrun? What the fuck was I trying to prove?

  I know I left there alone.

  I think I did.

  No, I did. I remember leaving my car and walking along the street, taking in all the sights and sounds of Ponsonby on a Friday night.

  Ah, fuck. I remember walking into the video store, browsing the new releases, then ducking into the back to check out the action there. Adults Only. Yeah, that's me, a real grown up, waking up in a bed with a guy I don't really know.

  I didn't bother with the rest of the distorted memories, I could work it out. I chose a dirty movie, shared a few suggestive remarks with video store guy, accepted his offer to come back here when the store closed and have a few more drinks.

  But why? I'm better than this. I have my set group of regular hook-ups, safe and reliable, nothing messy, nothing too outrageous. Sure, I'm free and easy with the loving, but only with my five guys. And they all know the score.

  It has been months since I added to my stable, and I had no plans to add any more. So why the fuck was I here?

  I lifted my head up off the pillow and glanced around the room. Our clothes were in tangled piles on the floor, discarded in our urgency to get to bed. My skin cooled and sweat made me feel clammy.

  I felt ill. And it had nothing to do with the booze.

  I slowly sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, my head found my hands as I was sure it was about to explode. I was getting too old for this sort of shit. I have many faults, but I have never had sex with a nameless man.

  Jared? Was that it?

  I blinked. Did it matter if I remembered what he was called, being here had not been on the horizon, therefore I'd done something out of my control.

  Everyone thinks I'm so damn slap happy, fun loving, carefree Kelly Quayle. But I have rules. I have limits. There are some things I will not do.

  There's a hell of a lot that I will, but within the confines of what feels right. And this here, felt wrong.

  I glanced over my shoulder and found dark brown eyes staring up at me. How long had he been awake? Oh, this was worse than slinking out and taking the walk of shame. I didn't even freaking know what suburb I was in!

  "Hey," he murmured, then ran a hand over his bristly chin. "What time is it?"

  Time for me grow up. Time for me to stop this... fucked up lifestyle.

  "Early. Go back to sleep."

  "Nah, I'll make you some breakfast, if you like." He started moving off the bed, displaying an impressive morning erection.

  That had been inside me and I didn't even remember it.

  Panic welled, my heart stuttered, breathing once again became hard. Jesus, Kelly. Get a grip! This is not who you are.

  Then who the fuck am I?

  I stood up abruptly, fought vertigo and the sloshing of undigested alcohol in my gut, and fumbled for my clothes.

  "You don't have to leave, you know," video guy said from behind me. "I thought we could spend some more time together."

  No. I shook my head. "Gotta be somewhere."

  "Oh, come on, Kelly. You promised another round."

  My stomach plummeted. He knew my name. I had no idea what his was.

  "Change of plans," was all I could get out, my work trousers pulled up minus knickers. I couldn't see them and I didn't have it in me to search.

  "Baby, I thought it was great last night," he purred, reaching for me, wrapping an arm around my waist.

  I snapped. I'd been on a razor edge since I'd woken, it wasn't that hard to see why I'd crack. I struggled, and for a moment he didn't realise what I was doing and held on, pulling me closer, trying to jostle me into place, hips to hips. But I screamed, a frightful, unnatural sound. Lashed out with my nails, scraping three of them down the side of his cheek. I drew blood.

  He pushed me away. Reflex action. And I fell hard against the side of the bed.

  "What the fuck did you do that for?" he demanded, suddenly looking very big and very intimidating, and nothing like the charming flirt at the video store.

 
My lips trembled when I tried to speak.

  He sighed, frustratingly. "Maybe you should just go." Beating me to the words.

  Tears welled and he just stared at me, a confused, angry look on his face. I was a stranger to him at last. He'd been one to me from the moment I awoke.

  It took several moments for my body to respond to my mental commands, but finally I grabbed my bra, slipped my shirt on over top and hurriedly did the buttons up. I was going to vomit. I could feel it.

  But I would not do it here.

  He watched on quietly and statue still while I fumbled with my shoes. He didn't say a word while he followed me to the front door. It took three attempts for me to unlock it, my hands shook so much. He didn't offer to help.

  The door cracked open and sunshine hit me in the face. It was like a hard slap.

  But I recognised the street. Franklin Road. I'd have an uphill walk to my place.

  I turned to face him, once I'd stepped over the threshold. I couldn't meet his eyes.

  His hand came out slowly, finger curled beneath my chin and lifted my face to his. He brushed a tear off my cheek.

  "You were pretty pissed last night, weren't you?" he whispered.

  I couldn't do this. I couldn't dissect my failings with a man I'd had sex with, but didn't know his name. I remained mute, willing myself to turn away, to leave.

  "Go get some sleep, girl," he urged softly. "When your head's back in the right place, you know where I am."

  I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip and took a backwards step. He started shutting the door before I'd even turned away. He was closing me out of his life, but was too nice to do it bluntly.

  Even when I lose all rational thought, and make a monumental cock-up like last night, I somehow manage to pick a decent man to do it with.

  I was well aware of how lucky I was.

  I trudged up the steep incline towards Ponsonby Road, breathing deeply through my mouth in order to fend off the need to vomit. It had been a long time since I had felt this sick to my stomach. The alcohol had a lot to do with it. No one can lose hours of their life and not have drunk too much. Tequila swilled inside. I remembered it now. Video guy had cracked a bottle when we got home to his place, because I'd said it was my favourite drink.

  I don't think I will consume a glass of the stuff ever again.

  I checked my pockets, relieved to note my cellphone and car keys were still inside. I'd been too messed up and desperate to flee to have made sure they hadn't fallen out before now. But more and more sanity was returning. And with it a mountain of shame and guilt.

  I don't make apologies for who I am normally, or for how I enjoy my life. All the men in it know the score. They're aware of the others, even if I take great pains not to let their paths cross.

  Lately that had become more difficult to achieve, all because of a certain lawyer who turned up at the most inappropriate times.

  But today I had to ask, what the fuck, Kels? Just what had I hoped to achieve last night?

  It is perhaps the first time since childhood that I have asked that question of myself. I live in the moment, I grab hold of the next great thing when it enters my life. I don't figure it out, look for meaning behind an experience, I just enjoy. Gen told me it was a type of hedonism. I told her it was having a blast.

  I'm twenty-eight years old. My best friend is getting married in one week's time. She's expecting a baby. Going to be a mother before she turns thirty. And I'm still getting my thrills on the dance floor, under the influence of alcohol.

  It's getting harder to work the calories off. It's getting downright torturous dealing with the hangover the next day. And now this.

  It's getting impossible to deny that my life has no real meaning. One big party after another. Chasing one orgasm to the next.

  I could go cold turkey.

  "Pfft!" exploded from my mouth. Cut off all of my guys? All at once?

  I stopped under the shade of an overgrown Kowhai tree, the yellow bell-shaped flowers dancing in the slight breeze. Small bees buzzed around me, searching for their next nectar filled hit.

  That was me. I wasn't just living in the moment, like I'd always believed. I was searching for the next hit. For the next emotion.

  For the next bit of comfort and attention in another person's arms.

  This had to stop and the only way I could think of doing it, was to cut myself off from the source of my problems. From seeking that next hit.

  If Genevieve Cain can grow up, find a man to settle down with and start a family, then the least I could do was find some balls too.

  I had no intention of finding a man to settle down with, but one step at a time would do the trick.

  I kept walking, running this new and frightening idea over in my mind. The more I tried to break it down and analyse it, the harder it got to think straight at all. My hand slipped into my pocket, my fingers rubbing the corner of my phone. All it would take would be one call, let them know Kelly Quayle was off the menu, no longer girl about town.

  Could I do it?

  I turned and looked back down the street towards video guy's house. I couldn't even see which one it was, I'd walked out of there in a fog, and truth be told, I hadn't emerged from the haze yet.

  Something had to give. I couldn't wake up in another stranger's bed. I couldn't lose hours of my life. Next time the person who found me might not be as nice.

  I rubbed my chest where an ache had started forming, a pressure that matched the one inside my head. This was entirely too fucked up and I hated it. Hated myself right now. Hated the world and my life, too.

  I took a deep breath in and managed one step further before my cellphone chimed. Pulling it out, I glanced at the text message.

  Still on for tonight, babe?

  I guess I was about to find out if I had any balls.

  I swiped open a message screen, my thumb paused over the keypad. My heart thundering in my chest, blood pumping through my veins. Sweat once again gracing my cool skin.

  I could do this. I could cut them all off one by one.

  But I'd tell them to their faces. A text message was just not right.

  Still on, I typed. Meet you there at eight.

  It wasn't a victory on the road to saving Kelly Quayle. But it was a start.

  Tonight I'd tell Matt it was over.

  And then there'd be only four.

  Chapter 2

  Why Are You Doing This?

  I felt a million times better when I walked into the Red Hummingbird that evening. So much so, that for a moment I believed that morning hadn't really happened. I'd spent the rest of the day mucking about the house; cleaning, doing laundry, soaking in the bath. The nausea had finally abated around lunchtime, the headache sometime around two.

  Now, standing inside the funky, dark interior with groovy Tiki artwork on the walls, birdcage-like seating area off to the side, a living wall of greenery by the bar, reds, browns, golds, and the striking contrast of purple lights, I felt almost myself again. I felt alive, thrumming with anticipation, excited about the prospects for the upcoming night. Eager to hook up, to feel, to be entertained.

  To experience life.

  One step further and I realised how wrong those sensations were. I was not here to hook up with Matt. I was here to let him down.

  My hands clenched at my sides and I scanned the people in the bar. I spotted him, quietly sipping his beer in a booth seat beside the birdcage area. His light blue eyes were on me. Hunger, and the anticipation I'd only just identified in myself, stared back at me from behind the rim of his glass.

  My steps faltered. He looked good. Shaggy blond hair brushing his shoulders. Dark grey, ribbed sweater stretched tight across what I knew to be an extremely lickable chest. His sleeves were pushed partway up his arms, displaying tanned skin, dusted in light hairs. His fingers, wrapped around his beer glass, were long, but thick. I knew how they felt on my skin, how they felt when he slipped them inside. How those hands felt banded around my waist
as he pulled me down onto his cock. Hard.

  Oh, fuck. I was such a lost cause.

  I sidled up to him, noticing he'd already bought me a drink. It wasn't tequila. My stomach still rolled at the sight of the gin he had waiting for me, though.

  "Hey, beautiful," he murmured, standing slightly and leaning over the table to kiss my cheek. "Long time, no see."

  Yeah, it had been a while. Twice now I'd begged off our dates and not even turned up. Once, I'd been waylaid by another, and did the dubious thing of texting my regrets from the bathroom just down the hall from where he sat waiting.

  I had a sudden image of how others would see me. And I did not like what I saw.

  I took a sip of the gin, grimaced and then placed the glass back on the table. My hands shook when I placed them in my lap.

  "So, what's been keeping you so busy, Kels?" he asked, his arm wrapping around my shoulder and pulling me close.

  It was a normal move for us. Matt always hugged. Before sex. Afterwards. Even just meeting in the street. Matt was a hugger and I loved him for it. I allowed myself a moment of further weakness and relaxed into his hold.

  "Oh, you know. Gen's wedding. Organising the hen's night. Going to dress fittings. The usual matrimonial uproar."

  He chuckled. It was a nice laugh. Carefree and happy. How I used to be.

  "Heaven forbid you get any ideas, woman," he murmured, nuzzling my neck, his hand creeping up my thigh.

  "Do you ever get tired of all of this, Matt?" I asked. The words were out before I'd consciously thought them. My body stiffened, followed by Matt's.

  "What sort of question is that?" he asked carefully, his face no longer flush against my skin, but his body was still too close.

  "Oh, I don't know," I stalled, fidgeting with the coaster beneath my sweating glass. I could sympathise with the bloody thing. Was it too hot in here?

  "OK, Kels. What's up?" he asked, pulling away and placing much needed space between us. "Three times you've stood me up. That's not like you. And I gotta admit," he added, running a hand through his ruffled hair, "You don't look in the mood to party."