COVER UP (The Cover Series - Book 2) Page 5

  “What the hell, man? You look like you’re gonna puke?” Shane muttered as he climbed into the driver’s seat, finally, after making me wait for him to change out of his ‘boring work clothes.’

  He threw his duffle bag into the back seat, which I assume contained the very expensive Armani suit he wore earlier. He now wore black designer jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket paired with matching boots.

  I assumed he would be bringing me home, but leave it to my little brother to use any opportunity to visit a gentlemen’s club. Shane didn’t frequent any old establishment; after all, he was a Belmont. No, there was only one place that could live up to a Belmont’s expectations…‘Emerald Gents’. Shane believed this place was ‘every man’s medicine’ - ten thousand square feet of space and eight thousand exotic, provocative, women on staff. The place offered every man who entered a home away from home.

  Shane thought all of a man’s problems could be solved at the only gentlemen’s club in Los Angeles that offered deluxe amenities, including designer suites with private butlers, concierge services, and varying themes to satisfy every indulgence. So far, his ‘medicine’ included a young woman, and full bottle service, which included an extensive wine list, champagne and liquor.

  Since I was in no celebratory mood, I opted for an old faithful friend.

  “Whiskey, neat,” I said, when the butler requested our order. Shane ordered the same. We reclined in our black leather seats and the brunette began her dance. In record time, the butler returned with our drinks and I watched as Shane slipped the man a tip. Shaking my head, I picked up the golden liquid and took a sip, enjoying the burn as it went down.

  “So… Are you going to tell me why you look like shit?” Shane asked as he gave me a knowing sideways glance.

  I unwillingly shuddered, as I thought about everything that had happened since this morning. Everything seemed to have changed within a blink of an eye. One minute I was ecstatic - Emily was finally coming back to me, convinced that she heard my pleas. And the next…I was here. Everything in between seemed to blur together.

  “I wouldn’t know where to begin,” I offered truthfully, as I stared down at the drink in my hands.

  Shane had never fallen in love, reveling in all that the bachelor life provided him. He was free to do as he pleased, with whom he pleased, with no consequences or explanations due anyone. We lived a similar life at one point, but somewhere in the last few weeks, I had broken my only rule. Keep things purely physical.

  All the women before Emily – and I’ll admit that there had been quite a few - knew from the beginning that my relationships with them were strictly of a sexual nature. I had my needs and they would cater to those needs. In return, they’d get what most of them wanted, gifts and money. It worked, just like business. Business I understood, but not Emily.

  “Well I’ve got all night but don’t be mad if I show up late for work tomorrow,” Shane teased as he took a swig of his drink.

  “There isn’t much to say, really. She doesn’t remember anything of the past year. And last year she was with Adam, so…”

  “Ouch, tough one,” Shane mumbled as he shook his head back and forth.

  “Look, you’ve brought me here to relax. So let’s save this conversation for another day,” I responded icily.

  “Your life, your rules,” he said.

  The whiskey helped relax me a bit, but the girl only added to my torment. Each time she swayed her hips I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting to a fantasy of Emily swaying hers for me in a private dance. The fog, smoke, and slow dancing lavender lights on the stage helped bring the fantasy to life, as the woman’s face slowly faded out, replaced by my Emily. The music she danced to was just the right tempo. She stood tall in her signature black lace lingerie and five inch heels, much like what she’d worn for her little show for me at her apartment just a few weeks ago.

  I imagined her teasing me again, moving her hands across that curvy, toned, soft body of hers and landing on her small perfectly shaped thatch of curls made my shaft stiffen. Would it always stand at attention at the mere thought of her?

  “So, what are you going to do?” I heard Shane ask me from a distance.

  Unable to tear my eyes away from the woman dancing, the woman my mind had morphed into Emily, I stared ahead. My eyes fixed on the woman before me. Her seductive movements held me in a trance as I slowly drank her in, letting my gaze fall on every inch of her body.

  Noticing, she moved closer, now crawling on the stage towards me and I felt my manhood jerk.

  “Looks like you got over that Emily girl kind of quick,” Shane loudly teased over the music, vanquishing my trance with the mention of Emily’s name.

  Blinking my eyes, I met the disappointed stare of the young brunette and instantly felt sick to my stomach. Reaching for my glass, I turned to find my brother staring at me.

  “Guess not” he mumbled before setting his glass down on the round table in front of us.

  Choosing to ignore him, I signaled the waiting butler and asked for another whiskey. If I was going to get through tonight, I needed the numbness whiskey could provide.

  Turning back towards the woman, I realized that she had already moved on, setting her sights on another man on the other side of the stage. He seemed to enjoy the show as she spread her legs wide for his attention, loving when he leaned forward to place another bill at the side of her barely there thong.

  The sight was enough to make me roll my eyes. My Emily was gone and somehow I’d allowed Shane to bring me to this torturous establishment. None of the entertainers here could hold a candle to Emily. The thought made me angry, although I wasn’t sure why. The last time I was here with Shane was just over two years ago and I, surprisingly, enjoyed myself thoroughly. But today…today I was a shell of the man I used to be. I was nothing. Emily reduced me to nothing.

  “So, are you going to tell me what your plan is? Because this…,” he said while gesturing up and down at me with his left hand, “is kind of depressing, big bro.”

  Not bothering to turn towards him, I stared ahead at nothing in particular. I had no plan. Emily left me again and I was done chasing her around. It was time for me to resume my life – the life I had absentmindedly placed on hold after meeting her. I needed to focus on what was most important, which was my business.

  “No plan, no point. Oh, and…You’re fired, effective immediately,” I stated, before taking the entire double shot in one gulp, wincing at the sting it caused as it went down. I set my glass down on the table and rose to my feet.

  “I’ll see you later,” I muttered before turning away and heading for the door. There was nothing for me here; both Shane and I knew that. What I needed was back at the hospital, in the arms of another man. Since I couldn’t have her, I needed to find my way back to the Julien Belmont I was before.

  I couldn’t recall the drive to my home. It was a complete blur, my mind often drifting to Emily. I wondered how and what she was doing. Did she have any memory of me at all, even a small trace? I sat in front of my house for at least an hour before finally cutting off the engine and climbing out. As I walked through the door for the first time since the day I ran out to find Emily, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  Memories of the first night I took her in this very foyer. I swept her off her feet and into my arms then ascended the double bridal stairs. I thought it simple back then. I met a stunning woman at the bar whose body called to me. I would take her in my bed, maybe a few times, and then we would go about our separate lives. Only that was not how it happened at all. I was drawn to her in a way that I couldn’t explain back then. I needed to be near her every chance I got. I felt complete when she graced me with her presence, and standing here now…I couldn’t help but feel hollow, alone, and lost. How in the hell was I supposed to move on?

  The pain in my heart was not only emotional; it was physical. It felt like a piece of me had been ripped out of my chest and stomped on. I couldn’t br
eathe without her.

  I slowly I made my way up the stairs, all the while knowing what torment awaited me. She had become a part of the home. Her not being here with me was like existing in a world without its better part – cold, void, and unbearable.

  I didn’t bother going in the bedroom or the office. Instead, I sauntered slowly to one of the guest bedrooms – furthest away from where her scent still lingered. I didn’t know how long it would take before I could face the rooms again but tonight … tonight, I just couldn’t.

  ADAM

  It had been one hell of a night but unfortunately, for me it was not over. Diana sat in the living room practically hyperventilating and I was in the kitchen, letting her. After I slammed the door in her face, my mother’s every so sweet yet stern voice rang in my ears, scolding me for treating a woman with such little respect. I knew that I couldn’t just let her stand there; so, I reopened the door, half expecting her have already left. But, to my surprise and regret, she hadn’t. Fuck!

  When she realized that I had opened the door, she instantly fell apart. Shrieking noises escaped her and she sobbed uncontrollably, her face in her hands, all while shaking her head.

  I gestured for her to come in and pushed down the bile in my throat, realizing that I pretty much did hate the woman. I hated her for lying to Emily. I hated her because she made me believe she was someone she wasn’t; and I hated her because a part of me, a tiny part, still cared for her.

  I knew it was cruel to let her suffer a little while longer before helping her calm down. I hated when women cried. But she should be crying after all the trouble she had caused. Still, her mournful wails twisted at my insides. Why the hell did mom have to raise me to be a gentleman?

  I sighed resignedly, straightened my slouched shoulders, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and a brown bag from the kitchen drawer. I approached her ever so slowly, and watched her lift her head from her hands. Her eyes were red and she still struggled to breathe.

  “This will help,” I informed her as I handed her the brown bag.

  Hesitantly, she took the bag and placed it over her nose and mouth, breathing in and out slowly while I stood by the couch mindlessly shifting from foot to foot.

  After what felt like an eternity, she removed the bag from her face, finally able to breathe normally.

  “I’m sorry for coming and falling apart at your door. I know I’m the last person you want to see – let alone comfort,” she murmured before bringing her hand to her lips and nibbling on her nail.

  I couldn’t bring myself to deny her statements; doing so would only be out of formality and I was in no formal mood. We both knew the truth. Instead, I asked her something that I had wanted to ask since I first saw her at the hospital.

  “Uh, when did you start biting your nails?” I asked and took a seat on the adjacent settee.

  She frowned and looked down at the nail she was absentmindedly biting; she brought it in front of her as if she was confused. “I don’t know, honestly. I guess when you saw Emily. I used to bite my nails as a kid. Thought I had kicked the habit, but…” she trailed off and continued examining her fingers. “Guess old habits die hard,” she mumbled.

  “Guess so…”

  The awkwardness in the air felt thick and I wanted desperately to ask her to leave. I weighed my options, and settled for telling her that I needed to get some sleep, so we should probably call it a night. Steeling my resolve, I opened my mouth to say just that, but was cut off before getting the chance.

  “I’m going to tell her everything, tomorrow,” she declared shakily, her hands trembling in her lap. “I can’t live with this guilt anymore,” she continued before letting her head fall forward.

  “So that’s your big plan!” I barked, realizing that my hands where now balled into fists.

  Diana’s head shot up and she stared at me, confused. Did she really think she was being noble here?

  “So, your grand plan is to waltz into Emily’s hospital room and tell her that she has not only lost her best friend because you are a fucking liar who caused us to break up, but also that she’s lost a whole year of her life?” my voice echoed through the room before silence filled it. We stared at each other, both unable to tear our eyes away in challenge. My heart angrily pounded against my chest.

  “I can’t stand there while she thinks we’re still best friends… knowing all the while what I did to her,” she finally said after a few moments.

  Of course, it was always about Diana – what she wanted. Never mind the fact that the Emily’s doctor had strictly advised us to let Emily’s memories come back naturally.

  “The hell you will! If you feel guilty, then deal with it! You are not going to hurt Emily any more than you already have. You think telling her what happened between us changes anything? Huh?” I demanded as I moved closer to her; now so close to her that her vanilla scent flooded my nostrils, further irritating me.

  Her eyes turned from complete despair to a steely resolve as she looked up at me. “Make up your fucking mind, Adam. One minute you’re mad because I haven’t told her everything; and then the next you’re upset because I want to. Well fuck you, Adam Owens! Just because I have feelings for you doesn’t give you the right to bully me into doing what you want, when you want!” And, with that, she drew herself up off the couch, grabbed her purse and she walked past me headed for the door, almost taking my shoulder with her.

  Shocked, I stood rooted to the, spot completely dumbfounded, as she reached for the door and wrenched it open.

  “You know… You claimed to have loved me at one point. I thought you would at least try to understand what I am going through. I didn’t just loose a best friend. I also lost you. Guess I’m not the only liar here,” she whispered softly, her hurt and pain evident in her trembling voice.

  Unable to respond, I watched her walk through my front door, letting it slam shut behind her. I thought I once loved her, but that was before I realized what she’d done. How could I love someone who deceived me in such a great way? I felt like I never truly knew her. The person I had fallen for was sweet and gentle. She was there for me when my world fell apart. She nursed me back from the brink of darkness, and in the midst of it, I thought I had found love.

  For a whole year, we dated. A whole fucking year and I had no idea what she had done that night. How could I ever forgive something like that?

  Chapter Six

  “Just because something isn't a lie does not mean that it isn't deceptive. A liar knows that he is a liar, but one who speaks mere portions of truth in order to deceive is a craftsman of destruction.”

  ~ Criss Jami ~

  EMILY

  “Do you trust me?” asked the faceless man, barely above a whisper.

  “Yes…” I responded immediately, my eyes skimming down his body, coming to rest on the growing bulge in his pants.

  “Do want whatever you want with me. Please… just take me!” I responded in frustration.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk Mon amour… you must be patient” he scolded.

  Walking to his nightstand, he opened the drawer and pulled out a black, silk scarf. “If you trust me, stand up and turn around.”

  I did as he asked.

  “Good girl. Now just relax,” he whispered into my ear. His warm breath caressed my neck, causing goose bumps to run up and down my arms. He placed the silk scarf around my eyes, tying it securely behind my head.

  “Now, come up on all fours,” his voice was soft, yet commanding.

  “Délicieux, ma belle. You are so beautiful,” he growled in a husky voice.

  I heard the sounds of his clothes hitting the floor just before his strong hands gripped my thighs. The tip of his erection pressed at the entrance of my mound causing me to moan softly. Pulling away, his fingers gently grazed back and forth across the wet fabric between my legs, teasing me; making me bite my lip in an attempt to withhold the groan that was desperate to escape. Quickly, he pushed my thong aside. A moment later, I felt his f
inger gently trailing through my soaked slit, probing my entrance, but not quite entering me. I couldn’t contain the moan that ripped from my throat. Without conscious thought, I opened my legs wider, trying to convey my need for more.

  “You’re so wet for me, mon amour.” He rasped, his voice husky with desire.

  “Rise and shine lazy bones!” Suzie said, waking me out of yet another super fucking hot, erotic dream. This was the third dream this week, and each time it seemed as if I knew what was going to happen before it did; and upon waking, I’d find my horny body craving this dream man. That’s because all the freaky shit is already in your head, duh!

  I never saw the man’s face, but there was something about the sexy French voice that made my body respond to him, even when wide-awake. It was the weirdest thing. I felt a tad bit guilty about my French dream man, since he wasn’t Adam, but convinced myself that going a week with no sex would force anyone to fantasize. Suzie for sure would agree with my logic.

  “Why are you here so early?” I asked through squinted eyes that tried to the brightly lit room filled with morning sun.

  “Umm, don’t you remember? You have a super important test to take today. You know your ass needs me here to hold your hand, so I don’t know why you even ask,” she teased, and smiled as she placed her bag down on the chair.

  I shook my head and smiled. I knew that my friend was worried about me, but just couldn’t bring herself to voice it aloud. Suzie was the rock in our dynamic trio and Diana was the voice of sweet, soft, reason. I, on the other hand, was the mess they happily attempted to fix, and it made me sad. I didn’t want to cause my friends to worry; but here I was, yet again, in the position to be taken care of instead of taking care of them.