Escape (Part Three) Page 2

  Her hand tightened around her cup. Evie sat up straight.

  “Give me your phone,” Jennifer said.

  “Why?”

  “I will splash this drink in your face in ten seconds if you don’t hand over your goddamn phone.”

  I glanced at Evie. She was positioned so she could grab Jennifer’s wrist if she tried to fling her drink, but the both of us knew nothing would stop her completely. Reluctantly, I handed my phone over.

  “Unlock it,” she said.

  I did. Her fingers flew over the screen.

  “What are you looking for?” I asked.

  “Shut-up.”

  “What are you looking for?” Evie asked.

  I passed her a small smile. Thanks.

  Jennifer tossed my phone on the table and it violently danced against the wood.

  “Hey!” I said.

  She scowled. “Fuck you. I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth.” She turned to Evie. “I was looking for a little app called MatchU. Remember what I was telling you earlier? It’s the app your brother used to flirt with anonymous women. One of them, he hooked up with.”

  “There’s thousands of people who use MatchU,” I said, my throat slowly closing up. “Even if I did download it, there’s a one-in-a-million chance of me running into Chace.”

  “Then how the fuck did the two of you end up together?” she said, leaning over the table. “Enlighten me.”

  I took a gulp of iced tea to buy me some time to think. “After you broke up with him, we went out to dinner.”

  “Bullshit. Chace would never take you to dinner.”

  “He didn’t take me, I swindled him into it.”

  “How?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes.”

  I threw up my hands. “I told him his agent wanted to speak to him but when he showed up it was just me. We talked and drank. We both got a little drunk and things happened.”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “And what? Your magical pussy made him fall in love with you?”

  “He’s not in love with me. We’re just….”

  “Fucking regularly? Enough for an outsider to think you’re dating?”

  I sighed. “This is one huge misunderstanding.”

  “Then why the fuck aren’t you explaining yourself?”

  “I’m trying.”

  Jennifer took a sip of her coffee, hot liquid burning her tongue but she didn’t flinch. “Go on then,” she said. “Continue trying.”

  My sub-conscious was screaming at me - Tell the goddamn truth – but I was trembling beneath Jennifer’s sharp gaze, her finger tapping impatiently on the table as Evie stared at the side of my face.

  “We had sex for the first time after you two broke up. Chace wanted to see me again and I stood him up because I wasn’t looking for anything serious. You know how he is --”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes,” I hissed. Jennifer clasped her drink. “Chace doesn’t want something he knows he can easily get. He wants to work for it. He came to my house at some ungodly hour, angry that I stood him up and forced me to come with him to see his family.”

  “And you had a change of heart?”

  “No…Yes. I guess seeing him outside of the city, outside of work, made me have a change of heart.”

  “And just like that,” she snapped her fingers. “You’re dating?”

  My throat tightened. “Yes.”

  Jennifer glanced at Evie. She was toying with her drink, twisting her cup on the wooden table as she carefully watched the two of us, arms and hands ready to grab any limbs that may go flying.

  “I don’t believe this,” Jennifer whispered to herself. She took another drink. “I don’t believe you.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “He never even gave you a second thought, you were his assistant for Christ’s sake. A non-entity.”

  “Jennifer,” Evie said.

  “What?” she snapped. “I’m just telling the truth.”

  Her words stung more than her slug to my jaw but I kept myself together, wrapping my lips around my straw and averting my eyes. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and reflecting off the water. The sort of day that was being slowly ruined by Jennifer Mitchel.

  A non-entity. I’d never been called that before. It was worse than being called a “whore” or a “mistress” or a “home wrecker”. At least the latter existed. You were alive and you couldn’t be ignored. But a non-entity? Did Chace really think that little of me?

  “Look,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. “This whole thing is freaking him out.”

  Jennifer tilted her head to the side. “Do I look like I care?”

  “Can’t you just call off the paparazzi?”

  “No.”

  My face fell. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

  Evie leaned towards Jennifer. “What do you want?”

  Jennifer glanced between the two of us. “Two things.” She looked at me. “Whatever’s going on between you and Chace stops right now. If what you’re saying is true – which I don’t believe at all – then you’ve only been fucking him for a couple of days. Your “relationship” or whatever you want to call it is still in the disposable stage so, dispose of it. Stop fucking him. He’ll stop fucking you. Go back to doing your job that doesn’t include afternoon blowjobs.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Second. I want you to talk to someone.”

  My eyes flickered towards Evie. She furrowed her eyebrows. “Like a therapist?” I said.

  “No, you idiot,” Jennifer spat. “With Cheryl Collins.”

  Evie sat up in her chair.

  Cheryl Collins spit out celebrity gossip on her vlog every Wednesday, millions of viewers tuning in to watch her red-head bob in front of a camera. Her favorite subject: men who cheat and the women who enable them. She was ruthless, digging into the mistresses’ past with an unrelenting shovel, dragging the quiet ones into the public eye until they were forced to make a statement.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Jennifer shrugged. “Then I can't help you.”

  “I'll leave Chace alone.”

  “But that's not all I'm asking for, is it?”

  Jennifer wasn't used to hearing the word "no". I could tell by the twitch in her upper lip and the way she stuffed her arms over her chest, bottom lip sticking out in a childish pout. She thought she had me cornered but in truth, the cameras didn't bother me too much. I could hide in plain view, swapping one pair of scrubs for the other. I could even take up smoking, the smoke clouding my sunglassed face as I pushed through the crowd. It was the Evans’s who were bothered by them and as much as I cared, it wasn't enough for me to fall into the clutches of a woman itching to end me.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m not going to do it.”

  “Well then,” Jennifer stuck her straw between her teeth. “Our conversation is over.”

  ***

  Evie and I walked back to the estate, our shoulders bumping into one another as we sucked down cool bottles of water. Jennifer was staying in town, at a small bed and breakfast owned by a widow who’d never seen her movies and didn’t care that she fancied herself an actress. (“She said Eva Gardener was the last true actress,” Jennifer told Evie with a roll of her eyes. “Not even Elizabeth Taylor.”) She was supposed to leave tomorrow evening, but Evie assured me that wasn’t the truth.

  “She’s going to stay until you give into her,” she said. “Or until Chace breaks down and does something stupid.”

  I imagined Chace pouring pots of boiling water from his bedroom window, the scorching liquid burning the paparazzo’s, their screams swallowed up by the camera clicks around them.

  “I didn’t know you two were friends,” I said.

  The corner of Evie’s mouth lifted. “We’re not, but someone had to calm her down before her publicist call
ed People and gave them their scandal of the week: ‘The entire Evans’ clan wants Jennifer Mitchel to get an abortion.’”

  I was sweating again by the time we reached the estate. We stood down the street and watched the photographers and reporters, lounging on the front lawn as if they owned it, their knees kicked up in the air, heads resting on bags of their equipment, eating, chatting, destroying the foliage. A few carried small plastic bags around their wrists for trash, but others balled up their wrappers and tinfoil and tossed it over their shoulders, silver, white, red, and yellow plastic littering the green garden.

  “My mom’s going to have a fit when she sees this,” Evie said.

  “We should call the cops,” I said.

  “Tried that when my father first got sick. They scattered for a few hours and came back. When we called the cops again they said they had better things to do. Murders to solve.”

  Evie wiped her hand across her forehead, a film of sweat collecting on the back of her hand. From where we were standing the swarm of photographers seemed intimidatingly large, like a crowd at a music festival.

  I sucked in a deep breath and pushed my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose. “Do you think you can handle them again?”

  Evie threw me a sideways smile. “We don’t really have a choice.”

  Three

  I was closing the curtains when Chace knocked on my bedroom door. His bare feet sunk into the carpet as he pushed his hands in his pockets and surveyed my room. Nothing had changed since the last time he was there, but he probably couldn’t remember pushing me against the closed door, his teeth sinking into my bottom lip as he split it open. He drunk in every crack in the wall, every wrinkle of my sheets, the tip of his foot catching on my suitcase shoved clumsily beneath the bed.

  “I was looking for you earlier,” he said.

  “I went out for a walk, ran into Evie and Jennifer.”

  “Did she manage to keep her hands to herself?”

  “Barely,” I said.

  The corner of Chace’s mouth lifted into a faint smile. He was showered and dressed – khaki pants, bare feet, and a loose button down - attractive as ever in the gold glow of the lamp. I forced myself to look away, focusing instead on the shadow of his profile outlined on the wall.

  “She can call off the paparazzi,” I said.

  “Of course she can, but she won’t do it because she’s a spiteful bitch.”

  “Maybe you can try talking to her.”

  Chace scoffed. “I have nothing to say to her.”

  He leaned against the wooden post of my bed, his shoulder pressed against the column, one foot hooked behind his leg. His hair was unkempt, pulled every which way by his fingers nervously tugging the thick strands.

  “I’m worried about you,” I said.

  “Don’t.” He plopped on my bed. The mattress sunk beneath his weight as he leaned back. “Come here,” he said, a small grin spreading across my mouth.

  That familiar tug in the pit of my stomach drew me to him. Our knees knocked together as I stood between his parted legs. He stared up at me. I leaned forward, hovering over him with both hands on either side of his head until I dropped to my elbows, arms sinking into the mattress. His hands reached up and touched my cheeks, skin against skin as I craned my head and caught his lips with my own.

  My door was closed but not locked. Anyone could barge in and find us as we kissed, his palms flat against my bare back, exchanging heat through skin as he snaked his tongue into my mouth. A small moan floated from my throat and he swallowed it, his tongue pressed against mine as he pushed my hips flush against his.

  I gladly fell atop him, his cock hardening between my legs and pressing against me.

  His hands pushed beneath my blouse, warm palms sliding up my back, his fingertips dancing across the band of my bra. My hands gripped the sheets as he unhooked it with a snap, straps falling from my shoulders and catching on my sleeves. He hiked up my shirt and I pulled away from his mouth to lift it over my head, a small pile of fabric forming at his feet - my shirt, my bra. I grabbed the bottom of his shirt and he hoisted it over his head.

  Chace sat up, my breasts pushed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I was straddling him, knees pressed to either side as he captured my lips, his tongue licking at my bottom lip.

  Do you remember, I wanted to ask as his tongue swept across the healed skin of my split of lip, but I didn't want to disturb this. His fingers curled against my spine, dull nails scratching at my skin as my fingers found his hair and tangled themselves in the dark strands.

  A thin layer of sweat covered our bodies, a welcome heat rising in the room, our chests bumping against one another. Chace removed his mouth from mine and lowered his gaze to my breasts, my nipples hard with pleasure as he angled his head and sucked. His tongue looped around my right nipple, then the left, teeth lightly grazing each pink bud, drawing a soft moan from the back of my throat. My nails traced his scalp, starting from his crown to the back of his neck, a pleasurable groan passing through him and vibrating against my skin.

  “I need you naked,” he said, words ghosting across my breasts, sending a small shiver down my spine.

  “I could say the same thing,” I said.

  He dropped a kiss to my mouth. “Then say it,” he said, kissing both corners of my lips. “Say you need me naked.”

  A blush of red crawled up my neck. “I need you naked.”

  Standing inches from one another we climbed out of our pants, throwing them in the same pile as our shirts, our underwear following suit. I would always be taken by the sight of Chace’s body, thick thighs topping off strong legs, his chiseled torso and chest the perfect mantel for his gorgeous head.

  He was staring at me when he said, “You're absolutely gorgeous.”

  I blushed from my hairline, down to my toes and he saw it all.

  “Not like you,” I said.

  Chace smirked. “No one likes a girl with low self-esteem.”

  He crossed the small space between us. His hard, thick cock, swinging between his legs, pressed against me as our bodies aligned. A pool of wetness filled between my legs as he blindly led me over to the bed.

  The backs of my knees knocked against the mattress and I laid on my back. In tandem we climbed towards the head of the bed, our mouths missing one another for a small moment before connecting again.

  His hand slid behind my head, cradling it as it dropped on my pillow. He positioned himself between my legs and I spread them open, my fingers digging into his hips. My nails formed half-moons in his skin as he slid his hand down my stomach, fingers brushing against my clit before they dipped into the wetness. He pushed his fingers down, finding my entrance and pushing them inside.

  A soft gasp passed my lips as he devoured it, tongue dancing against my own as he pushed two fingers out and in. My hands crawled up his back to his shoulders, holding on as he crooked his fingers, a come hither motion moving inside of me, hitting that spot that's so sweet.

  My back arched off the mattress and his mouth dropped to my chest, small kisses forming between my breasts as he finger fucked me.

  I removed one hand from his shoulder and lapped at my palm before wrapping it around Chace’s cock. A groan formed in his chest as I slowly stroked him, his hard cock pulsating in his hand.

  “I'm going to cum,” I whispered, searching for his lips.

  He removed his fingers and an aching emptiness filled me. He pulled my hand from his cock.

  “I don't have a condom,” he said.

  I pressed my mouth to his. “Who cares?”

  He turned his head. “I don't...” His eyebrows furrowed. Oh.

  “I'm on the pill,” I said, cradling his face. Of course he didn't remember. “You're not going to knock me up too.”

  A cautious smile spread across his face and he pressed his mouth against mine.

  Expertly, he lined himself up, one hand on my hip and the othe
r bracing the mattress. He hovered over me, eyes taking in my parted lips, my heaving breasts and open legs. He focused on my face as he pushed in. My eyes slipped close as he filled me up.

  “You're beautiful,” he said, words barely above a whisper, his forehead pressed against mine as he entered me fully.

  My fingers pressed just above the curve of his ass, silently begging him to, “Move.”

  Chace fucked me hard and slow, pulling out before he slammed back in. Each thrust pulled a moan from my stomach, the noise popping in the air, uncaring of who might walk pass. Chace buried his face in my neck, his groans almost mute against my skin.

  His cock built a wave of pleasure in the pit of my stomach, but I wanted more. I licked my hand but he was two steps ahead of me, sticking two fingers in his mouth before he reached between my legs and found my clit. He applied the right amount of pressure, pressing down as he sped up his hips, fucking me faster.

  “Yes,” I said, gripping his shoulder. “That's it.”

  He lifted his head to watch me, my face contorting in a wave of ecstasy.

  “I'm so close,” I said, feeling the waves of pleasure begin to spread through my body.

  He pressed his mouth against mine, “Come for me,” he said, words ghosting against my lips. “You have to come for me, Alice.”

  He didn't need to say it twice.

  My orgasm started in my stomach but spread like stars to the rest of my body. I tightened around him but he kept thrusting, moans spilling from his mouth until his hips stuttered and he came inside me.

  My hands found his hair as he collapsed on top of me, his cock softening between my legs. He caught his breath, his head resting on my chest, cheek against my breasts until he lifted his head.

  “I should pull out,” he said with a lazy grin.

  There was a part of me that didn't want him to.

  ***

  The hand on my shoulder shook me awake. My head was buried in Chace’s neck, his arm thrown around my shoulders, our legs tangled beneath a single white sheet, draped over our naked hips. Jonah was standing over me, his mouth and eyebrows twisted up, both hands in his fists at his sides.