Dirty Addiction

by Ella Miles

  Thank God for checked bags because that’s where I find her waiting in line—to check her bag. I watch her from a distance so that she won’t know I’m here. She’s oblivious to me as she stands in the line. And it gives me another opportunity to really just watch her. She looks so different from the last time I saw her in the Bahamas. She looked so normal compared to now. Now, she’s trying to blend in instead of stand out.

  She finishes at the counter, and I immediately go up after her. Luckily, there is a young woman working there. With a little flirting, I get her to tell me exactly where Skye is headed—LA. And there just so happens to be several seats left on the same flight as her, so I buy a ticket. I could try to convince her to stay here and think more about my offer. But I doubt she would consider staying. This way, I get to find out more about her life and what she’ll be doing in LA.

  The flight attendant calls for boarding, and Skye gets in line while I linger back. She still hasn’t noticed me, but I do know that I will be sitting about three rows behind her on the plane. I give her about a fifty-fifty shot whether she will see me or not.

  I board the plane and immediately spot her six rows back, fumbling with her phone. I doubt she’ll even notice that I’m on the plane, which will give me the entire flight to plan on how I want to reveal to her that I followed her to LA.

  As I start walking by her, she looks up. Her eyes widen as she realizes what’s happening. She opens her mouth to say something but doesn’t get it out before I casually walk past her and take my seat.

  I smirk but otherwise don’t give her any attention. This is better. Now, she’s going to have the entire flight to worry about me.

  I put my earbuds in, planning on listening to an audiobook about business strategies to keep my mind occupied. I close my eyes, ignoring the safety briefing and all the other BS that happens before the flight takes off. I’ve flown enough times to know how everything works. I feel the plane take off at some point while I listen to my book.

  “Excuse me,” I hear Skye’s voice say even through my haze of sleep and the audiobook.

  I try to ignore her as she convinces the stranger next to me to swap seats with her. I keep my eyes closed like I don’t notice her at all as she finally takes a seat next to me, even after her thigh and hand brush against my leg—whether intentionally or unintentionally. I try to act like I couldn’t care less about her when what I really want to do is sneak her into the restroom and fuck her brains out.

  “I know you can hear me and that you know I’m here. Stop acting like you can’t hear me,” Skye says.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you were on this plane.” I remove one of my earbuds, giving her half of my attention.

  “Don’t play dumb,” she says, reaching for my other earbud and jerking it out of my ear.

  “I knew you couldn’t get enough of me.”

  She huffs and rolls her eyes again. She lifts her legs up into her seat, and she wraps her arms around them like she is giving herself one big hug. “Why did you follow me here?”

  “I didn’t follow you. I live in LA. When you told me you were leaving, I got on the next available flight since there was no longer a reason to stay in Albuquerque.”

  “Liar. You don’t live in LA.”

  I closely study her. “You looked me up, did you?”

  She looks away from me. “No, I didn’t.”

  I laugh. “You totally did.”

  “No, I didn’t,” she says empathetically.

  “Then, how do you know I don’t live in LA?”

  “Because you live in Detroit.”

  I bite my lip to keep my excitement down. She looked me up. She wants me just as badly as I want her. I just have to figure out what the key is to unlocking her hesitation about starting this up again. Because, clearly, the pain I caused her on the last day in paradise isn’t the reason.

  “Why don’t you want to do the arrangement?”

  “Because you’re an ass.”

  “I am, but then that’s exactly what you wanted. An ass. So, tell me the real reason you won’t agree to my arrangement, and I’ll leave you alone forever.”

  “For real? After I tell you the truth, you’ll get out of my life and never come back?”

  “I promise I’ll leave you alone. If that’s what you want.”

  She leans her chair back and closes her eyes like she’s going to take a long nap.

  “Are you going to tell me or not?”

  “I’m going to show you.”

  To my surprise, the rest of the flight is uneventful. We both sleep—or at least pretend to sleep. When we land, we get off the flight, being relatively civil to one another. After we collect our bags, she tells me to get into her car with her.

  I do.

  The Maserati we climb into isn’t a rental. It’s a car that she owns but is the complete opposite of her car in Albuquerque. That pickup truck was all about function and getting the job done with no fuss about its appearance. This car is a luxury car with little purpose other than to provide comfort and be flashy to all those who look at it.

  “Do you have a split personality or something?” I ask as she drives.

  “No.”

  “Then, explain to me why you have such a fancy car in LA and such a shitty one in Albuquerque.”

  She glares at me. “My truck isn’t shitty.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “Just because it isn’t what you expect on the outside doesn’t mean it isn’t worthy on the inside.”

  “That was deep.”

  “Just shut up until we get to my condo.”

  “Is your condo as fancy as this car? Because I have a feeling that your house back in Albuquerque is going to feel run-down compared to your condo here.”

  She turns a little too fast around the next corner, and I hit my head on the roof of the car.

  She smirks. “Like I said, you should probably just stop talking until we get to my condo.”

  I do but only because, clearly, she won’t tell me anything until we get to her condo. Something at her condo holds the key to everything she’s been hiding from me. She thinks she’s going to be able to get rid of me once we are there, but I don’t think there is anything she can show me that will make me want to leave. And all I have to do is get one kiss, and she’ll be begging me for more.

  Skye parks the car in a fancy parking garage and then makes her way to the elevator. Of course, she presses the button for the top floor. I smirk at her, guessing that her friend paid for this place while Skye pays for her house back home. I just don’t know which version she’d rather be, not that it matters. I’d fuck her either way.

  The elevators doors open, and she stomps out like she can’t get out of there fast enough. I follow, making sure to walk as close as possible behind her to be as obnoxious as I can. She pulls a key out of her purse and unlocks the door, gesturing for me to follow her inside. I do, letting the door close behind me. I watch as a tall man with light-colored hair in a business suit greets her. He wraps her in his arms and firmly kisses her on the lips.

  I glare at the man who has my woman wrapped in his arms. My woman’s lips pressed against his. A few moments pass before he finally comes up for air. Just enough time for my internal rage to fill every crevice inside me.

  “Baby, this is Brody, the man I told you about from my Bahamas vacation. Brody, this is Gabe, my fiancé.”

  Gabe extends his hand to me. I take it, gripping as firmly as I can.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Brody,” Gabe says.

  “You, too.”

  He squeezes Skye one more time with a bright smile on his face, happy to have his fiancée home. She, on the other hand, couldn’t seem more uncomfortable in his arms. The only reason she even has a smile on her face is that she can show me that I was wrong. That our relationship is over.

  “I hate this, but I have to run. I have a meeting I have to get to. But we should all do dinner tonight,” Gabe says, kissing Skye one more time
on the lips before giving me a nod and slipping out of the condo.

  I’m not sure I believe that the relationship is real. She probably just called an old friend and asked him to pretend to be her fiancé to try to get rid of me. But whatever it is, I’m going to figure it out.

  “What the fuck is going on?”

  13

  Skye

  “That isn’t your fiancé,” Brody says.

  “Are you serious? Gabe is my fiancé. He told you so himself without any probing from me. We kissed. We share this condo together. What more proof do you need?” I say, my voice loud and angry.

  I thought he would’ve stormed out the second he found out I had a fiancé, but apparently, he doesn’t believe anything I tell him is true, so I don’t even know why I bother trying to explain.

  “I need a heck of a lot more proof than that. You didn’t even want to kiss him. How can you be engaged to a person and not even want to kiss him?”

  “Just because you fucked me for a week in the Bahamas doesn’t mean you know me. You have no idea why I reacted the way that I did to Gabe kissing me.”

  Brody starts walking around the condo, his eyes traveling over everything he can find. He opens doors, sticking his head inside, only to reemerge.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, walking behind him.

  “I’m looking for proof.”

  I exhale deeply. “You promised you would leave after I told you the truth about why I wouldn’t agree to your arrangement.”

  “I said I would leave after you told me the truth. I’m not sure you’ve told me the truth yet.”

  He walks around our living room, staring at the white and light-gray massive walls that take up almost two stories with a few large pieces of artwork. He raises an eyebrow at me as he walks down the hallway to the bedroom that Gabe and I share, which is also decorated in gray and white.

  “Nope, I don’t believe you.”

  I frown. “And why don’t you believe me?”

  I need him to believe me. I need him to leave. He knows enough. He can’t stay and have dinner with us tonight. He’ll find out far too much that I don’t want him to know.

  “Because I haven’t found a single picture of you and your fiancé together in this entire condo. Not one single image.” He walks to the closet and throws the door open, peeking inside. “Because, despite the fact that you say you live here, there are less than a dozen pieces of clothing of yours in this closet. Because, despite having a fiancé who lives in LA, you still have a home in Albuquerque along with a whole slew of animals, not to mention your veterinarian clinic. You claim to have a fiancé, yet you fuck me on a vacation without him less than six months ago. You claim to have a fiancé, yet you have no ring.”

  I look down at my bare hand as a tiny bit of hope creeps up inside me. I run into the bathroom and pull out the engagement box out of the top drawer. I open the box and pull out the large square diamond ring, which is easily four carats in size. I place it back on my hand after having not worn it for the past two weeks, and then I race back to the bedroom, holding out my hand to Brody.

  “You’re wrong. I have a ring.”

  Brody eyes the large diamond on my finger with suspicion. “How do I know that’s not a fake?”

  I roll my eyes. “Does it look like a fake?”

  He cocks his head from side to side as he stares at it. “How would I know? I’m not a diamond expert.”

  “It’s not a fake. Does it look like Gabe can’t afford to buy me a nice diamond?” I hold my hands out to my sides, pointing at all the nice things in the condo that we share together.

  “No, I’m sure Gabe could afford to buy you that ring. How do I know it’s an engagement ring and not just a ring he bought for a close friend?”

  “Really?”

  “Fine, it looks like an engagement ring. But, if you’re engaged, why weren’t you wearing it? Why was it in a box here instead of on your finger in Albuquerque?”

  “Because we want to keep our engagement private. Gabe is pretty well known out here, and I want to keep it out of the tabloids as long as we can.”

  He narrows his eyes. “So, you don’t ever wear your ring in public?”

  “No.”

  “When? When did he propose?”

  I bite my lip and look away from him. I really don’t want to answer him.

  He chuckles. “You can’t even come up with a quick story of how he proposed.”

  “He proposed to me the night I got back from the Bahamas. We weren’t on the best of terms, which is why I went on vacation. I wanted to get some clarity on what I wanted when I returned. I came home when I found out he’d been in a motorcycle accident. I’d never been so scared in my life. I realized what a mistake I’d made. He got down on one knee and proposed in his hospital room despite being beaten up pretty badly. I said yes and haven’t hesitated since.”

  He just stands there, staring at me, processing.

  I sigh.

  And then he suddenly starts moving. He walks out of the bedroom while I follow after him, curious if I finally said the thing that will make him leave. He doesn’t walk toward the front door though. Instead, he walks into the kitchen, finds the bar, and starts digging through the alcohol. He shakes his head.

  “What?” I snap.

  He pulls out a decanter of whiskey and two glasses pouring us both a glass of alcohol from the decanter. He hands one of the glasses to me, and I take it, happy to have alcohol to finish this conversation. I need the strength to say anything to get him to leave.

  “The bastard doesn’t even have any tequila. So, you want to explain to me again how this is true love.”

  I don’t answer him. It doesn’t matter, and whatever excuse I make for him, it’s clear that Brody won’t believe me anyway.

  Brody opens the door to the balcony and steps outside. I step out as well, happy to get some fresh air.

  “Why?”

  “Why else do you get married? Love.”

  “Why did you cheat on him? If you are so in love with him that you said yes the second you came back, why did you sleep with me?” He stares at me as he asks the question, like it’s the most important question that he needs to know the answer to. His eyes seem sincere for the first time in a long time.

  “Because it wasn’t cheating.”

  I watch Brody’s hands drum against the railing, and I want nothing more than for him to take me in his arms and kiss me. I want him to stroke my face. Or even just hold my hand. But it seems that he won’t. But he has more self-control than I could’ve ever imagined while I’m on the edge of doing something very, very stupid.

  “Were you on a break? Broken up? Is that why it wasn’t technically cheating?”

  “It wasn’t cheating because we were never together.”

  Brody reaches out and grabs my hand, jerking me to him. My breathing is fast and heavy, as I’m filled with the weight of what I want him to do but can’t let him.

  “You’re telling me that, after spending a week with me giving you the best sex of your life, you cut that short so that you could go back to marry a man you hadn’t even kissed before?”

  Pain—that’s what I see when I look into Brody’s eyes. It can’t be pain though because I was nothing but a sex toy to him for the week. So, it must be something else. It must be that I heard him wrong, or it’s jealousy at letting another man take the woman he was just with.

  “We had kissed once, but that was it. I didn’t think it was going anywhere.”

  He lets me go and takes a step back. “It must be love then.”

  My heart aches as he says the words, dripping with the same pain that I myself feel. It doesn’t make sense for either of us to be feeling such pain, but it’s how I feel.

  “So, you’ll leave then? I told you the truth. I told you that I wouldn’t sleep with you again. And, just as I promised you, you can’t stay.”

  He grins just enough for me to be concerned. “I think I’d like to have that dinner firs
t. It’s clear that he’s rich, so I’m sure he knows where to get a good meal in town. And I’d like to hear from him a little more about how he got a woman like you to fall so quickly in love. I might need to use the skills myself someday. I’ll leave after dinner if that’s what you still want.”

  He says he will leave, but it seems more like a threat. I failed at getting him to leave once. I won’t fail again.

  14

  Brody

  She has a fucking fiancé. A wealthy, powerful, good-looking fiancé. A fiancé who has one of the sickest condos I’ve ever seen or had the privilege of being inside.

  She has this whole other life in Albuquerque, which is completely different than their life here in LA. And I can’t make the two lives, the two parts of her, make sense together in my head.

  On the one hand, she’s such a simple country girl who doesn’t care about fancy things or if she fits into society; she only cares about her animals. She cares about doing good in the world, in leaving the world a better place than she found it.

  But there’s this other side of her. One that enjoys the finer things in life. Expensive vacations, fancy condos, and fast cars. The ring he gave her easily cost more than the wealth of several small countries.

  She has two lives. Two worlds. And I don’t think I’ll be able to fit into either one of them. Because she’s in love with the damn fiancé.

  Or maybe she’s lying. I’ve definitely seen her give warmer greetings before, and the answers to a lot of my questions didn’t make sense. But I can’t imagine Skye ever getting married for any reason other than love.

  She might have wanted dark, filthy sex with me. The kind that allows for zero attachment, but it was clear the only reason she wanted that was that she was apparently hung up on Gabe.

  I adjust my tie and then put on the most expensive jacket that I brought with me. My face is clean-shaven, and I spent time getting a haircut this afternoon to look my absolute best for tonight’s dinner. I know that she chose him, but I want her to regret not having one more time with me. And I want Gabe to feel the slightest bit intimidated by me.