Beg For Me: Chapter 20

Aside from fingers, there’s no penetration that night, just more variations on the theme we’ve already established. Lots of oral in different positions, lots of petting and dirty talk, several more orgasms on both sides.

And so much laughter. He makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever known.

We fall asleep in a tangle of sweaty limbs a few hours before sunrise. I sleep like a baby until a recurring sound disturbs me enough to pull me from my dreams.

I lift my head, squinting into the bright morning light and trying to figure out what the noise is. Silent and still, Carter sleeps on his side beside me, his arm tucked under my neck and a leg thrown over mine.

A female voice calls from outside the house, “Carter! Bestie, answer the door!”

The sound that pulled me from sleep starts again: knocking.

A woman is outside the front door, pounding on it.

I shake Carter by the shoulder. He mumbles something and turns over. The doorbell rings three times in a row.

“Carter, wake up. Someone is trying to get you to come to your front door. It sounds like an emergency.”

The doorbell rings again. The knocking continues.

“Fuck.”

With a heavy sigh, Carter sits up. He drags his hands through his hair a few times, then walks naked over to the window. He yanks the curtains aside and peers outside.

“What’s happening?”

“It’s Katie.”

I recall tight pink Lycra and long blonde hair, gravity-defying breasts and a rainbow frosty drink. A graduation charm dangling from a gold bracelet. “Katie from the coffee shop?”

“Yeah.”

“Why is she banging on your door?”

He turns and looks at me over his shoulder. “It’s Sunday. I forgot we’re supposed to be riding today.”

Sitting up in bed, I draw the sheets up over my naked breasts and gaze at him with what I hope is a serene, indifferent expression while my heart turns somersaults inside my ribcage.

“You forgot.”

He smiles sheepishly, turns away from the window, and picks up his jeans from where he left them on the floor last night. He tugs them up his legs.

“Yeah. We made a date last Sunday to do it again today. With everything going on, it slipped my mind.”

They made a date.

A date.

A few dozen emotions hit me at once. All of them are bad.

“Let me just go tell her I have to cancel.”

He turns away, but turns back when I say, “There’s no need for that. If you made a date, you should keep it. It will only take me a few minutes to get dressed.”

He squints at me. Sleepy-eyed and befuddled, his hair in a mess, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.

“Are you mad at me?”

Not at him, at myself. I knew better than this, yet here we are. “I’m not angry. Go down and let her in.”

Forcing a smile, I rise from bed and locate my clothes on the floor. They’re scattered all over the carpet. Carter is still standing in the same spot, looking at me doubtfully.

“Go before she pounds your door down, silly!”

He walks back to me, gives me a bear hug, kisses me on the cheek, then ambles out, sighing deeply when the doorbell rings again.

I dress in yesterday’s wrinkled clothing because my overnight bag is still downstairs. Then I go into his bathroom, splash water on my face, squirt a blob of toothpaste on my finger, and use my finger to brush my teeth.

In the mirror over the sink, my reflection judges me so hard, my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I avoid looking at myself as I quickly run my hands over my hair, attempting to tame it.

From downstairs floats the bright sound of female laughter.

Females, plural.

Apparently, Katie brought a friend with her.

Facing the mirror, I point a finger at my glowering reflection. “Don’t judge me, bitch. We’re in this together.”

I turn away before she can make a case for temporary insanity but freeze when I hear Carter call my name.

“Sophia! Come down here!”

Deeply annoyed, I close my eyes and pray he won’t call me again.

But of course, he does. The man is relentless.

Though my first instinct is to climb out the window and flee, I lift my chin, draw a breath, and paste a smile on my frozen face. I descend the stairs with what I hope is a solid façade of grace and unflappability.

My little act is almost shattered when I spy not one, not two, but three lovely young blondes gathered in Carter’s foyer.

None of them looks old enough to legally drink alcohol.

They’re all dressed in tight athletic wear that leaves not a single thing to the imagination. The tallest of them, a real stunner with wide-set eyes and sculpted cheekbones, has on a pink top through which I can clearly see the rosy areolas on her full breasts.

They look at me with no curiosity or surprise, just mild expectation, as if I’m the den mother at their sorority, and they need the toilet fixed.

I wonder if they assume I’m Carter’s housekeeper. Who for some unknown reason cleans in wrinkled clothes and bare feet.

“Hi,” says Katie. “I remember you.”

“Hello, Katie. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Are you coming with us?”

“Coming with you where?”

“On a ride.”

My face must express what I think of that idea because she laughs. “C’mon, it’s a beautiful day! I promise we’ll take it easy on you.”

Ah, so she’s noticed my weak muscles, irrefutable signs of an elder Millennial who spends her life indoors sitting behind a desk. Next, she’ll probably suggest I start taking a high dose of Vitamin D.

I smile tightly at the trio of athletic young beauty queens. “Thank you for the invitation, but I have to get going. I hope you have fun. Where’s Carter?”

“He went to the garage to get his bike.”

I guess I’ll be walking home. How gallant of him. Thank goodness he doesn’t still live in Malibu.

Ears burning, I make my way into the living room where I find my shoes and slip them on. I’m picking up my overnight bag when Carter walks in.

He takes one look at me standing there with the bag in my hand and frowns.

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving.”

“But why?”

“Because you have a date. With triplets.”

He lifts his brows, surprised at my tone, which was cutting.

“You said you weren’t mad.”

I glance away. “I’ve got a million things on my To-Do list for today, that’s all. And why did you call me downstairs, only to disappear before I got here?”

“I wanted to introduce you to the girls.”

The girls. Something about the way he said that makes me grind my molars. Like they’re his backup dancers or favorite groupies.

Like he hangs out with them all the time.

Or does more than hang out with them. Maybe I’m not the first person he’s called his sweet little slut this week.

Dear God. What the hell have I been thinking?

Calm down. Don’t panic. It’s fine, everything’s fine, you’ll only cry over this for a few weeks at most.

You blockhead.

“I’ve just met them. Katie invited me to go riding with you all, but like I said, I need to get going.”

When I start to walk toward the French doors that lead to the backyard, he says, “Sophia, please. Don’t leave like this. I told you I’d cancel. It’s not important—”

“It’s fine.”

“It isn’t.”

He strides over and blocks the door before I can open it. I close my eyes and breathe slowly through my nose, humiliation seeping from every pore in my body.

He takes my bag from my hand and sets it on the floor by my feet. Then he takes my face in his hands and kisses me gently.

“Hey. Beautiful.”

I open my eyes and look up at him. Unsmiling, he shakes his head.

“There’s nothing to be jealous about.”

“Tell that to my heart, which is currently lodged in my throat.”

“We’re friends. That’s it.”

“You have the best-looking friends of the opposite sex anyone could ever hope for.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“And I’m trying very hard to believe you.”

Hurt, he drops his hands from my face and steps back. “I haven’t done anything to deserve that.”

“No, except the way you’ve lived your entire life up to now.”

His eyes flare with anger. He huffs out a short, hard breath and turns away to rake a hand through his hair. When he turns around, he folds his arms over his bare chest and glares at me.

He says flatly, “Take that back.”

“Please keep your voice down.”

“Why? You afraid the girls will hear you being an asshole to me?”

My heart thuds hard and fast. My stomach is in knots, and my hands are now shaking. “We’ve resorted to name calling. Nice.”

“You didn’t mind it when my face was between your legs.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Get out of my way, please. I want to leave now.”

“Fuck, Sophia, come on.”

I hate the way he said that, like I’m being an unreasonable pain in the ass. Like I’m overreacting. Like my heart doesn’t feel as if it’s cracking in half.

Keeping my voice low and my eyes averted, I say, “I can either go out this door or through the front door past your groupies, but I’m going. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“At least let me drive you home.”

“I prefer to walk, thank you.”

“This is really fucking unfair, you know that? You’re mad for no reason.”

I look him directly in his eyes. “Life is unfair, Carter. You’ll learn that when you grow up.”

His lips part. He makes a small sound of disbelief. Then he shakes his head and looks away. After a moment of silent jaw clenching, he says, “That was beneath you. Call me when you’ve cooled down and are ready to discuss this reasonably.”

He walks away without another word and without looking back. He rounds the corner and vanishes from sight. I hear him call out to the girls in the foyer in a loud, happy voice, clapping his hands like a cheerleading coach.

I pick up my bag and walk out the door before I do something to embarrass myself, like cry.