Moments In Time: A Collection of Short Fiction

by Alexander, Dominic K.

  I showered, shampooed my hair, then made sure I took extra care in shaving everywhere that wasn’t waxed. My skin was a perfect sun-kissed tan, thanks to a tanning bed. My hair was platinum-blonde with thin black streaks throughout. My eyes were brown by genetics, but thanks to the luxury of contacts they were sometimes green or blue, and occasionally even purple. My fake double-Ds were courtesy of my first sugar daddy, who was only thirty-five.

  After toweling off, I made my way over to my vanity to start my routine. I moisturized, buffed, and tweezed until I was as close to perfect as I was going to get, which in my opinion was pretty damn close. I slid my silk robe on and went into my kitchen to make a protein smoothie, since I usually hated the food at these events. It was always dainty little appetizers that other people’s dirty hands brushed while grabbing theirs. The thought of eating those made me shudder, and besides, I wouldn’t be caught dead stuffing my face like a glutton.

  Finishing the last of my smoothie, I quickly scrolled through my social media, posting a couple of vain selfies of myself for boys to run to the bathroom and jack off to.

  In real life, I kept my circle to a couple of close friends. I chose not to talk to my family because when I would, all they did was lecture me about how I was wasting my life. It got old, so I stopped picking up the phone. Jax was one of my constants. He didn’t get too preachy because he knew I’d do the same thing to him in a heartbeat.

  I typed out a text to my friend Bri to see if she was going tonight, too. Her on-and-off boyfriend, Tristan, was a lead singer, and usually showed up for the free booze. At least I’d have someone there to hang out with if she was going.

  After sitting around most of the afternoon being unproductive, it was time to start getting ready. Riffling through my lingerie drawer, I pulled out a black lace G-string and matching push-up bra set. Feeling good about yourself started with the basics; pretty panties were essential and never cheap.

  I opted for a pair of skintight leather leggings, knee-high leather boots, and a ribbed white tank to make the black bra stand out. Sitting at my vanity, I teased my hair and curled a few of the black strands to make them pop. I applied my makeup to perfection, choosing a smoky eye and a nude lip so my lipstick wouldn’t betray any kiss-and-tell action.

  At exactly nine o’clock, Paul showed up on my doorstep. Glancing out the peephole, I could see he held a bouquet of flowers. Sliding the chain lock off, I opened the door and stood there showing off his prize for the evening.

  “Jesus Christ, Star. You look fucking incredible. So incredible I might need to fuck you before we go, and then again when we get back,” he said with a smirk. He handed me the flowers, which I barely glanced at before tossing them onto the kitchen counter.

  Paul was good-looking and didn’t have a problem getting girls to do his bidding, but they couldn’t do what I did behind closed doors. Not even close. He had on a pair of low-rise dark jeans and a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up. His dark hair was shaved, leaving just enough not to be bald. He had an M. Shadows thing going on and I found it incredibly hot.

  When I crooked my pointer finger at him as I walked backward to my bedroom, he followed like a dog chasing a bone until we reached the bed. Lowering my pants, I gave him a peek at what was underneath and could see he was already starting to stir in his pants. Paul was blessed and pierced in that department.

  Taking his arm, I led him to the side of the bed and had him take a seat on the edge. Wasting no time, I undid his belt and unzipped his fly, reaching in to spring him free. When I looked up, I made sure I had my lust-filled boudoir eyes in full effect before grazing my tongue across his hard shaft. His hand reached to the back of my neck and brought me farther down as I began bobbing up and down. Lightly pressing my tongue underneath, I made my way to the tip and swirled around before taking him as far back in my throat as I could.

  “Fuck, don’t stop,” he practically growled.

  I could tell he was starting to thicken, so I used my hand to pump the lower part of his shaft, working my mouth at the tip. Swirling and grazing until I felt the hot juice fill my mouth, I sucked him dry before running into my bathroom to spit it in the sink. Those were empty calories I didn’t need. After spitting, I quickly brushed my teeth while Paul cleaned himself up. I met him in the living room where he handed me an envelope, my fee for the night, if you would.

  Paul was a great stepping-stone to rub elbows with more well-knowns in the industry. He was well connected, and with any luck would eventually lead me to my end game.

  What was my end game, you ask? Finding the richest, sexiest rock god I could dig my sharpened claws into, and roping him into being my happily-ever-after.

  And I was halfway there.

  • • •

  When we entered the club, the party was already in full swing. I loved the rush of a good time. The smell of sweat mixed with booze and lust was like a drug to me. Arm in arm, Paul and I made our way to the bar to order some drinks. The bartender stared at me for a little longer than necessary and I could tell that Paul was getting a little jealous, so I leaned up to his ear and bit the lobe gently.

  “I’m all yours tonight,” I whispered seductively.

  “What can I get you?” the bartender asked. With his short brown hair spiked into disarray and twinkling baby blues, he looked like a college student.

  “I’ll have a vodka and Red Bull, sugar free if you have it,” I said with a wink.

  “I’ll take whatever you have on tap,” Paul said, a little harsher than necessary.

  It was a huge turn-off when guys got possessive over me. I wanted to be free to have a good time and do my own thing. The thought of being tied down made me feel claustrophobic. I wasn’t settling for less than what I felt I deserved; I wanted a man who would drop to his knees to kiss the ground I walked on. One who would treat me like his princess, and better than his favorite whore.

  The bartender placed our drinks in front of us. Paul slipped him a twenty-dollar bill and then handed me my drink. I put the tiny straw to my lips and sipped. It was delicious, and I planned on having as many of these as I could handle tonight.

  Taking Paul’s hand, I pulled him to where some of my future baby-daddy prospects were standing, one of them being Jarred Sins. Jarred was dreamy, tall, and loaded, which meant he was exactly what I was looking for. The front man for a popular rock-and-roll band, he had a reputation for being an asshole, but that wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle and eventually break him of. I’d seen him in passing before at events but we were never formally introduced, and I was hoping that tonight would be my lucky night.

  I played my part like a well-rehearsed actress, laughing at all the right times and fueling their egos to make them feel special. Again, it was like a game, and you needed to know when to make your move. I made sure I occasionally make eye contact with Jarred throughout the night. Apparently I was intriguing him, which was exactly what I was going for. I wanted to sink my claws into him and by the looks of it, this was going to be my chance.

  Jarred excused himself from the group he was talking to and made his way over to where I was standing with Paul and some of his colleagues. “Paul, good to see you,” he said with a voice carefully modulated to make panties drop. “Who’s the gorgeous lady?”

  “This is Star,” Paul said, sliding his arm a little tighter around me and pulling me close. “Star, this is Jarred Sins.”

  Jarred narrowed his eyes as he gave me an appreciative once-over. “Pleasure, doll.”

  “Pleasure’s my middle name,” I said, flirting back.

  Taking my small hand into his large one, he shook it lightly and lingered before letting it go, practically giving me goose bumps. “Is it now? Maybe I’ll find out one day.”

  Paul stiffened, obviously getting irritated, and I knew I should stop because I was technically his date tonight. But this was Jarred fucking Sins, and I wanted him up against a wall with my legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked me into oblivion.r />
  “Maybe another time,” I suggested, hoping that he would say yes.

  “Sam,” Jarred called out, without removing his gaze from mine. A hulk of a guy came strolling to stand at his side, apparently his bodyguard. “Do me a favor and take this pretty lady’s information for me and guard it with your life.”

  Without a word, Sam pulled out a notebook and pen from his suit pocket, then dutifully wrote down the information I provided before returning it to his pocket for safekeeping as promised.

  Trying to hide how giddy I was feeling at the moment, I dragged Paul toward the dance floor and started grinding my ass into his front.

  “Was that really necessary?” he said, unmoving.

  “Oh, stop being a drama king, you don’t get to be jealous. I’m not yours, I don’t belong to anyone,” I said through gritted teeth, trying not to make a scene. “Can we just enjoy the rest of the night?” Trying to lighten his mood, I pouted prettily for him, presenting my full bottom lip.

  Finally relenting, Paul took my hands in his and started moving with me.

  Star for the win.

  As the night progressed, I kept catching Jarred’s gaze on me, watching me, assessing me, and it turned me on. Paul was going to get fucked well tonight, but it wouldn’t be him making me come; it would be the vision of Jarred’s face in my head.

  As three in the morning rolled around, I was feeling good. Really good. It might have had something to do with the five-plus vodka Red Bulls I’d downed during the evening.

  “Take me home and do dirty things to me,” I said to Paul, running my nails down his chest until I reached the bulge below his belt. As I did, I couldn’t help but look up to meet Jarred’s dark stare. I gave him a little extra show, just so he would know what he was missing, and hopefully call.

  I followed Paul out to his Jeep and climbed into the passenger seat, feeling like I was on cloud nine. Everything I’d worked toward over the last ten years was falling into place. I was twenty-six, and hopefully by the time I was twenty-seven, I would be Star Sins. It would make a great porn star name if things went south, too.

  Paul was rather quiet on the way home, definitely still pouting about what went down earlier, so to lighten the mood I decided some of Star’s special road head was in order.

  After unbuckling my seat belt, I leaned across the console and worked on freeing his cock. It didn’t take long before he was rock hard in my mouth. His hand found its way into my hair, wrapping around the base of my neck so he could guide me.

  “God damn.” He moaned as I picked up the pace.

  The next thing I knew, the car swerved and careened off the road, then hit something hard and came to an abrupt stop. My body flew forward and my ribs cracked against the dash as the airbag deployed in my face.

  Fuck. It hurt.

  Warm blood trickled down my face. In shock, I could hardly move, but managed to lever myself off of Paul’s lap.

  Paul. Paul wasn’t moving. I couldn’t make his name come out as I did my best to shake him. Please wake up, I pleaded silently, but he didn’t respond.

  Frantically, I searched the floorboard with my hands, looking for my phone, not that it would do me any good at the moment because I couldn’t even formulate a sentence. My fingers were getting sliced from the broken glass that littered the front seat and floor mats, but I finally managed to find my phone. Hands trembling, I brought it to my face and managed to dial 911.

  “Nine-one-one. What’s the emergency?”

  Trying my best to find my voice, I stammered, “W-we’ve been in an accident. I think we’re off Dewey Road, going westbound.” There I did it.

  “Okay, ma’am, we’re sending help. Stay on the line until they arrive. Is there anyone else with you?”

  “My friend Paul. He’s unconscious,” I said, then started to cry.

  The dispatcher spoke soothingly, trying to keep me engaged, but her voice was like a buzz in my ear. I glanced around the car, trying to take stock of the situation, and realized that this looked really bad. With feeble hands, I managed to zip Paul’s fly up.

  In that moment, I had an epiphany. It was my selfishness that had caused this. If he didn’t make it, I was going to have to live with that for the rest of my life. At the same time, I didn’t know how else to live. So many years I’d spent using my looks to get what I wanted out of life.

  As things started coming into clarity again, it dawned on me that my face was bleeding. I touched my face gingerly and pulled back my hand to see it was red and wet. I was afraid to look in the mirror; I didn’t want to see.

  Moments later, sirens sounded in the distance and grew louder as they approached.

  “They’re here,” I choked out to the operator, before hitting the End Call button.

  The groaning of bending metal was the last sound I heard before slipping into unconsciousness.

  • • •

  Apparently Jarred had gotten wind of what happened and stopped by to check on me while I was in the hospital recovering. He came while Jax was there, which caused a total who-has-the-bigger-cock contest, the chest-puffing kind that would eventually lead to fists meeting flesh. I tried to convince Jax to leave, but he insisted that he wasn’t going anywhere until he was sure I was okay.

  “Star, I’m so glad you’re all right. I’m sorry about Paul. He was a good guy, and is going to be greatly missed in the music industry,” Jarred said sincerely as he handed me a card. “If you need anything, here’s my number. I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”

  “I’ll get her anything she needs,” Jax said, coming to stand next to the bed.

  “Knock it off, Jax. You’re being an asshole,” I said, rubbing my temples from the headache I felt coming on. “Thank you, Jarred, I really appreciate it. It hasn’t really had the chance to sink in yet.”

  My eyes burned as the tears I’d been holding in threatened to come to the surface, but I refused to let them. I didn’t want to show weakness. Yes, I knew that having a vagina gave me the right to be a moody bitch at almost all times, but I wasn’t weak, and didn’t like being seen as anything less than totally together. I would let the tears fall when I was alone, without the fear of judgment or anyone thinking I needed coddling.

  Jarred leaned over and placed a soft kiss at my hairline, being careful to avoid my stitches and cuts. The bruising probably looked fantastic, too.

  • • •

  It had been exactly three weeks since the accident. My face was starting to heal and, thanks to the plastic surgeon, I would barely have any scars. I kept thinking of how Paul wasn’t so lucky, and started drinking heavily after the funeral. I couldn’t believe he was actually dead, and even worse, that I was to blame. My friend Bri jokingly said at least he died happy, but he should still be here.

  Jax came by almost every day to check on me, and no matter how hard I tried pushing him away, he still came back. Until today, that is. I knew I had pushed him to the point of no return.

  “You make me feel like a piece of shit!” he yelled. “You think you’re so fucking beautiful and because of that, it’s supposed to give you the right to walk around like you’re the best thing that ever happened. You have some type of mental illness or something!” Then he turned and punched a hole in the sheetrock. His tattooed arm pulled back, taking part of the wall with it, before he punched another hole right next to it.

  “You mean to tell me that I’m not the best thing that’s ever happened to you?” I pouted playfully, feigning innocence, knowing it usually calmed him down.

  Jax just glared at me. “See, it’s these fucking head games you play. You know you’re an asshole, and then you play the cute little innocent card and rope me back in, but not anymore, Star. I’m done. Don’t call me, don’t text me. In fact, if you see me on the street, don’t even fucking look at me!”

  If I had a heart, I was pretty sure it would have broken right now. But I didn’t.

  “You know you don’t mean that, Jax,” I told him. “I get it, you�
�re mad, and maybe even feel betrayed, but let’s be realistic here. You’ve known from the beginning that this was just sex. You’re a great guy and an even better fuck, but that’s all it’s ever going to be. I thought you realized that a long time ago. The fact that you let your emotions rule you into loving me isn’t my fucking problem, it’s yours. You need to grow a set of balls and learn to go after what you want in life.”

  “Are you kidding me?” he gritted out, then blew out a breath. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? What do you think I’ve been trying to do this entire time?” Jax roared.

  I let what he said sink in for a minute while chewing on my bottom lip. “Huh. Well, in that case, you can’t always get what you want.”

  “I give up. Like I said, I’m done. Delete me from your contacts list.”

  I watched stoically as he made his way to the door and slammed it behind him. Part of me wished that I could feel even remotely guilty for hurting him, but one would need feelings for that, and I’ve hardened so much I wasn’t sure I had any left. A normal person would be crying or trying to get to him before he made it to his car. Instead, I stood there debating what I was going to do that night. If I was on a downward spiral, I was going to do it right, for fuck’s sake.

  After showering, I sat at my vanity and began applying my makeup, making sure to go heavy around the still-angry scars near my forehead. The hollow brown eyes staring back at me made me feel sad, which wasn’t a feeling I was accustomed to. I didn’t think I had feelings left.

  Jax had always joked that I could have been in a six-year relationship only to have it end and my first thought would be whatever. It was pretty close to the truth, too. I’d spent so many years doing what felt good for me that I felt little for anyone around me. If I were being honest with myself, I’d liked Paul. I had enjoyed his company. At the same time, I refused to ruin my mascara over him.

  Rummaging through my closet, I found a tiny silver dress and a pair of black pumps. It was one of my go-to outfits because it was sexy and sassy. I quickly got dressed before heading out the door. After climbing into my Beemer, I looked in the rearview mirror and ran my fingers through my hair, triple-checking my makeup before putting the car in drive. Then I headed to Liquid to meet up with a couple of my girlfriends for a night of drinking and fun.