Easy Virtue (27 page)

“How can someone as beautiful as you are have no heart?”

I laugh bitterly. “I have no heart. I killed it. You and I were never meant to be together, so get it out of your fucking head. Besides, you’ll be okay. You’ll forget me in a couple of weeks.”

“Be out of my mind? Forget you?” He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends. “I’ve thought about you every single day since I’ve met you. Every part of me aches for you, cries for you, craves you.”

I crack. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”

In a moment of weakness, I wonder what would happen if I ended things with Lawrence and asked Ronan to forgive me and give me another chance. But I don’t because it wouldn’t change the outcome.

God, what a fool I am.

I can already see it unfolding. If I let him in completely, he would break down all my walls one sweet kiss at a time and I would fall madly and deeply in love with him and the promise of a future together. I would think that I’ve finally found what I’ve been searching for all my life. And then one day he would look into my eyes and nothing would happen. Nothing. His eyes wouldn’t dance in the light when they landed upon my face. What he once thought beautiful would be ordinary. With my phony and expensive exterior infiltrated, he would realize how worthless, how ugly I am on the inside and he would leave me like everyone else has. Or maybe I would grow bored, like my mother did with her marriage to my father. Maybe I’d want that Chanel bag he couldn’t afford but someone like Lawrence could. The end result would always be the same, proving how unworthy of love I truly am.

Ronan’s eyes soften for the first time since I’ve arrived. “Don’t do this, Blaire. Don’t give up on us.”

“You’re blind, Ronan,” I mutter, my voice shaking.

“No, you’re the one who’s blind, Blaire. Give me the chance to show you what I see. Give me a chance to prove to you that what we have is something special.”

As we continue to stare at each other, anger fills me once again, corroding my heart and soul. His kind words, sharp as a serrated knife, manage to hurt me, cut me open. His truthful words are cruel, but such is the perverse nature of honesty. It’s rarely painless and always full of baggage.

I take the last few steps that separate us as opposing thoughts spin in my head.

Once I’m standing in front of him, I notice that Ronan is watching me warily. Good. He should be worried. Adrenaline pumps through my veins. A cool draft from the air conditioner envelops the small space between us, but I feel feverish. What I do next can’t be blamed on thoughtlessness or be classified as one of those spur-of-the moment-kind of things. Nope. It’s calculated. It’s meant to hurt him. It’s meant to show Ronan that I have the upper hand and not him. It’s meant to show him how ugly I am, shattering his noble and bogus opinion of me once and for all. He thinks I’m blind? No, it’s him. And I’ll show
him
just how blind
he
is.

I give him my best smile—the one that makes grown men lose their mind and forget their values as long as they get to put their cock inside of me. Pushing myself against him, his hands instantly cup my ass. The length of our bodies glued, I rub myself on his hardness and feel the way it swells for me, the way my body instantly ignites for him.

I place my hands on his shoulders and lean forward until our mouths are not even an inch apart. I can smell the woodsy smell of his cologne and feel the warmth of his breath against my lips. I can see the light dusting of golden freckles adorning the crest of his nose, and most importantly, I can sense our need for each other coating the air in the empty hallway.

“You say that I’m blind, Ronan, but I’m not. I know perfectly who I am. It’s you who can’t see it, won’t believe it.”

And that’s when I kiss him. It’s a hard kiss meant to punish him, to bring him to his knees, and it starts out like that. Our tongues clashing, fighting for power to render the other useless. But the moment Ronan lets go of my ass and cups my cheeks lovingly in his hands, I come undone. It’s he who punishes me with his tenderness.

His passion.

His beauty.

His kisses full of light.

He’s the one to break the kiss by pulling back slightly, desperation and need vibrating through his touch. “You feel that, Blaire? How can you deny that? This thing, this pull between us isn’t a temporary thing. It isn’t going anywhere, and you know it. You can tell lies to your head and maybe believe them, but you can’t lie to your heart, to what’s deep inside of you. It always knows the truth. Now, tell me to my face that you don’t care about me. That you really want me out of your life. I’ll be gone and I won’t ever bother you again.”

I shake my head wordlessly but he doesn’t seem to care. “What are you so afraid of? Tell me.”

I shake my head once more.

“Tell me, Blaire.”

Forcefully, I push his hands away as I try to swallow the tight knot that has formed in the back of my throat. Lies sit on my tongue ready to be fired at him, but the honesty shining in his eyes forbids me to deceive him. “You, okay? You! I’m scared shitless of what you make me feel, what you make me want.” My voice breaks.

“Don’t be … don’t be afraid of me.”

“Oh, Ronan. When will you learn?”

“Never.”

I touch my burning lips, feeling the ghost of his mouth upon them as we stare at each other. His words resonate deep within me, destroying my resolve with each second that passes by, but then I catch myself wanting to believe them. Like the Pied Piper of Hamelin and his song, his seductive words want to take me away to a place of no return, and I won’t let him. I won’t.

“It doesn’t matter. Do you want to know something about me, Ronan?” I ask, pushing myself closer to him again.

Ronan grips my hips painfully, his fingers leaving soft, red indentations there. I lean forward and kiss his neck before I whisper against his skin, “I fucked a man the entire night.” I kiss his Adam’s apple and feel it tremble under my lips. “And it wasn’t for love.” I kiss him behind his left ear, letting my tongue trace the soft skin there as I taste the saltiness of his sweat. “I can still feel him moving inside me … I can still taste his flavor on my tongue… so you think I’m a good person, huh?” I grab one of his hands, bringing it between my legs, and guiding his fingers with mine to touch me and rub me there. The warmth of his touch seeps through the lace of my underwear. “What if I told you that you could have me as many times as that man did if you could afford me?”

Ronan pushes me away forcefully, our hands separating. “Enough, Blaire … enough.”

I ignore him and keep going. I want to open his eyes and shatter all his illusions so he can finally see me for who I am.

A monster.

“I’m a gold digger, you know? I fuck for money.” I stare at him, rejoicing when I notice his taut jaw because it means I’m finally getting to him. “And frankly, it doesn’t look like you could ever pay my price. So, Ronan, let me ask you again. How much do you like me? How special do you think I am? Do you still think I’m blind? Because in my book, it looks like you’re the blind one.”

There. I hope that shuts him up.

I feel completely dead on the inside. And if I wasn’t before by my own doing, the way he’s looking at me in this moment finishes the job. Like a coward, I’d like to lower my gaze and not be an unwilling witness to his judgment, but I don’t think I can. There’s something magnificent, awe-inspiring, when you watch a man lose his way in anger … in hate. You can’t help but wish to be part of the wreckage left behind by his ire.

Silence fills the space between us, stretching like a never-ending ocean. We’re standing in front of each other, our bodies close enough to touch, yet we’ve never been farther apart.

“I take that back. I take everything back that I said earlier.” He eyes me up and down, disgust carried in each syllable he utters. “You’re not worth it.”

My breath is shaky. My palms are sweaty. A tempest of tension, desire, fury, and pain roars inside me.

“I’m glad you finally realize it,” I say as I unlock my apartment, walk inside and close the door behind me, shutting Ronan out of my life once and for all.

After I strip naked, I stand in front of my mirror and take in my appearance. With the back of my hand, I remove the remaining ruby red lipstick from my bruised lips, smudging it across the left side of my face. My eyes sparkle with tears that won’t fall. Ronan’s words spin inside my head like a revolving door, paralyzing me. But at least he knows now what kind of person I am. He finally sees me the way I see myself.

I continue to stare at my reflection as I ignore the soreness between my legs. I wasn’t born a monster, though my choices certainly have made me one. But I can’t stop myself. I can’t. Causing pain to others when I’m suffering soothes me.

I wish I could cry, but nothing happens. I hate myself. I tell myself I'm worth it, but I don't believe it. The vicious cycle continues.

Over …

And over …

And over …

Lawrence

AS I WAIT FOR MY DATE TO JOIN ME FOR DINNER
, I think of Blaire and chuckle. She’s a walking contradiction without a doubt, but maybe that’s part of her charm. A femme fatale with the eyes of an old soul and a playful smile that is sure to rob a man’s heart. This morning before I got out of bed, I spent a couple of minutes watching her sleep. I wanted to touch her again. I wanted to pull her close to me and smell her feminine perfume, maybe wake her up and fuck one more time, but somehow I knew that I shouldn’t. She isn’t mine. So I contented myself with staring at her like a lovesick puppy while she slept in my bed. Without an ounce of makeup on her face and her black hair spread across the pillow in wild abandon, she appeared so young and carefree. Innocent almost. But then my eyes drifted to her naturally red tinted lips. No innocent girl could suck a man off the way she did.

Her memory alone makes my cock stir.

But it’s not her body I crave; it’s her. I crave the way she makes me feel. She makes me forget. She has brought back laughter into my life after so many years without it, and like a starved man, I want more—I need more. And if I have to pay for each kiss, each touch, each smile of hers, so be it. I don’t care. At least she’s honest enough to admit that all she wants from me is my money.

I chuckle because a slip of a girl with soulful blue eyes is turning me into a pathetic son of a bitch. I’m about to reach for my glass of wine when I hear my date speak.

“Hi Laurie.”

I place my napkin on the table, push the chair back and stand up.

“When will you stop calling me that?” I ask, our eyes meeting.

“Never, silly man.”

She smiles as she leans forward and kisses my cheek. The moment her lips touch my skin, the same feelings that have haunted me and been my only companions for close to ten years return in full force.

Sometimes I think that I’m finally free of her.

But I know that my freedom is just an illusion.