Wife Me Bad Boy Page 9

  “Thank you, darling,” I said, almost making myself throw up.

  When had I allowed myself to become such a pushover?

  He of course looked as dashing as he had the night before, dressed in an impeccable navy suit. His shirt was of such high quality cotton it almost felt like silk. He smelled of the finest aftershave.

  As we walked past a big mirror by the elevator, I caught a glimpse of myself and it amazed me. I looked like one of those actresses on the red carpet outside an award ceremony. I looked fucking amazing.

  I swallowed all my inhibitions, and decided to give this a fair shot. I’d try my best to see how this felt. I’d never allowed myself to be a complete, girly girl before. I’d never allowed the old, traditional stereotypes and gender roles to completely take over my will. Whatever I’d been doing so far in my life clearly wasn’t working. Maybe this was the woman I was meant to be.

  Even before I’d gotten there, I’d decided to give Rob another chance. I’d forgive him the deception he’d used, and play along. It was just one evening after all.

  “Maybe tonight we’ll actually be able to have some action,” he said, patting my ass as I stepped into the elevator.

  My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Cassie could still hear us. I knew he was trying to compliment how hot I looked, but there was something very humiliating about him saying I hadn’t been hot enough to fuck before the makeover. Especially in front of Cassie.

  *

  THAT DATE WAS ONE OF the strangest experiences of my life. I felt like I was a different person, like I was locked inside of someone else’s body. I didn’t look like me, and I didn’t act like me either. It was surreal.

  Rob had a town car with a driver pull around to the front of the building to meet us. I wondered vaguely how I’d ever be able to get home. Cassie said she’d taken my things down to my car, but I suddenly realized that my things included my car keys, my cell phone, and my wallet. If I’d felt vulnerable in this new outfit, looking like a new woman, I felt positively naked without my cell, my keys and my wallet. I was completely at Rob’s mercy without those things.

  A shudder of apprehension came over me as I stepped into the car.

  “Rob,” I said. “I need to get my things from my car.”

  “Trust me,” he said, “you won’t need a thing, Lacey. Not the way you look tonight. I’ll be happy to pay your way.”

  “I don’t even have my ID.”

  “You don’t need it.”

  I nodded. I know this sounds difficult to believe, but at that moment, I didn’t feel like I could really make a fuss. I felt somehow beholden to Rob. He’d spent all this money transforming me into his dream date, and I felt as if that made me owe him something, like I shouldn’t be rude.

  The thing was, I heard all the time about terrible things happening to women when they allowed themselves to get into compromising situations. Wasn’t this exactly one of those situations? I mean, the girls who got in trouble usually looked exactly the way I did, with a sexy ass, huge breasts, perfect hair, and no fucking clue where they were going and who they were going with.

  The car had a minibar in the back and Rob opened a bottle of champagne. He handed me a glass and then poured one for himself.

  “Relax, Lacey,” he said, “you’re going to have a great night. You’re going to see how much fun a girl can have when she dresses and acts the way men actually like.”

  I felt an intense urge to fling my champagne in Rob’s face. Who did he think he was, telling women how they should act and dress? There was more to women’s existence than pleasing men.

  But yet again, all I did was smile and nod. I took a long drink of the champagne and held my glass out to him for a refill. He liked that. He smiled as he poured my drink, and then his hand came to rest on my thigh.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Rob was controlling everything, from where we were going and what we would do, to how I dressed, to the fact that I didn’t have my phone on me. I was completely under his control and I realized that this was how women too often allowed themselves to be.

  I began to have terrible thoughts of where he might be taking me. I mean, what really could I have done if the driver took the freeway out of the city and brought us to some cabin in the woods? What if Rob had something really terrible planned for me? I couldn’t call for help. I couldn’t fight him and the driver. I couldn’t outrun them in my two-thousand-dollar heels.

  When the car pulled up outside one of the most exclusive nightclubs in the entire city, I almost cried in relief. And that’s saying a lot, because I don’t even like nightclubs. I find them intimidating. All the sexy women, the girls who are willing to go farther than me, work harder, to win their man. I’d always felt out of my depth at clubs like that, but this time I was just glad Rob hadn’t taken me into the woods to murder me.

  *

  THERE WAS A LONG LINE waiting to get into the club, girls in expensive dresses that barely covered their asses and tits and left nothing to the imagination. The guys looked like they worked out at the gym seven days a week, muscles rippling under their bright shirts. I saw one guy with thick, strong arms who looked out of place in the line of jocks of bros and he reminded me intensely of Grant.

  Grant.

  What I wouldn’t have done to see him right then and there. I’d have run to him and jumped into his arms. I’d have forgotten all my pride, all my dignity, and I’d have told him to take me home.

  This scene with Rob wasn’t for me. It wasn’t the kind of girl I was. I already knew. What he wanted was a supermodel bimbo who would talk like he wanted, act like he wanted, and do what he wanted. That wasn’t me. He’d made me look the part, but there was no way he could change the person I was inside. Or was there?

  One of the club security guards came over to our car and held the door as we climbed out. A photographer from a gossip website flashed his camera at me as I walked past the line, Rob to my left and the security guard to my right.

  Every girl in the line looked on jealously as I was escorted right past them, into the club.

  “What’s going on?” I said to Rob as we followed the guard.

  “It’s always like this here,” he said. “They get so many celebrities that the photographer shoots anyone who looks like they might be news.”

  “Does that mean we look like news?” I said, my jaw dropping.

  “You look like news,” Rob said. “You look like the cover of a fashion magazine.”

  Despite everything, the fear I’d felt in the car, the helplessness at not having my things, the betrayal at being tricked into dressing up like this, I smiled. And it was a genuine smile. I was excited at the prospect of being news, of being a celebrity, no matter how small.

  “You like that, don’t you?” Rob said, his hand on my ass again, as he guided me through the crowd of people.

  I nodded.

  “Well, do exactly what I say, when I say it, and I’ll make you a star, sweetheart.”

  I followed him past the bar and up some steps to the VIP area. An attendant opened a rope barrier for us and brought us to a large, round table where some guys who I assumed were Rob’s friends were sitting with beautiful women.

  “Everyone, meet Lacey,” Rob said with a flourish. “Lacey, meet everyone.”

  I smiled at the people around the table. The men all looked friendly enough. The women eyed me like I was their competition. There were magnums of champagne in ice buckets on the table and one of Rob’s friends, a guy with a short beard and goatee, poured me a glass. I sat next to him on the low, leather sofa. Rob sat next to me and put his arm around me like I was his trophy.

  The friend with the goatee immediately began ignoring his date, a beautiful looking blonde half my age, and started hitting on me, right in front of Rob.

  “So, what’s your deal, darling?”

  “My deal?”

  “You know? What are you into?”

  I wasn’t sure what to say. I had a wine buying b
usiness with Faith that I was incredibly proud of, but dressed the way I was, I felt as if I was playing a role. Owning a business didn’t feel like it would fit in that role.

  “All sorts of things,” I said.

  “Oh yeah, like threesomes?”

  I turned to look at Rob, to see if he was listening. He’d heard everything the man said, and was just watching and smiling, as if it was completely normal.

  I turned back to the man.

  “No, not particularly.”

  He shook his head. “Shame, baby. You, me, and Dolly here could have had a really nice time.”

  “I’m here with Rob,” I said.

  “I bet you are,” the guy said.

  I turned to Rob again.

  “What the hell, Duke?” Rob said.

  Duke wasn’t put off in the least. He put his hand on my thigh, right in front of Rob. I pushed it off and crossed my legs. Rob saw but didn’t say anything to the guy. He just put his arm around me and pulled me closer to him.

  “Don’t worry about Duke,” he said. “He’s just playing.”

  Despite having severely mixed feelings about Rob, I found myself clinging to him tightly. “Well, I don’t like his game,” I said into Rob’s ear.

  Rob leaned toward me, put his mouth on mine, and began kissing me passionately. His tongue found its way into mine and before I knew it, I was leaning into him, straining to get as close to him as possible and as far from Duke’s hands as possible. It didn’t help. Even while I was kissing Rob, Duke’s hand kept stroking my thigh. I pushed it off but somehow, even with his own date sitting right there, it kept finding it’s way back onto my leg.

  I was making out heavily with Rob, but I honestly couldn’t tell you if it was because I was enjoying it, or because I was scared that if I stopped, Duke would think he could move in on me.

  I whispered to Rob between kisses, “Let’s get out of here.”

  He put his hand on my thigh and I was shocked to see that both his hand and Duke’s were on my legs at the same time. Rob knew, and he liked it.

  “Not yet, baby,” he said.

  *

  I’M GOING TO ASK YOU right now, what would you have done in my position? I mean, there were so many emotions and conflicting thoughts running through my mind. My head was spinning at a million miles an hour.

  Should I play along? I’m not ashamed to admit I really, really wanted a boyfriend. I wanted a relationship that I could count on, I wanted to know I had someone to spend time with, and be affectionate with. Even though Rob had done a lot of things wrong, he was still an eligible guy. He was rich and successful, he had his own business, it looked like he liked to have fun. If I played along, I would probably have him as a boyfriend and I’d no longer be going to bed alone every night.

  But even as I thought about the supposed advantages of letting Rob treat me however he wanted, I already knew it wasn’t the right decision.

  I mean, what was the advantage? I wanted a boyfriend, but why did I want one? So that I could feel loved? So that I could feel secure? So that I could feel accepted for the person I was and the person I was aspiring to be?

  Rob didn’t treat me like that. He didn’t make me feel loved, he made me feel inadequate. He wasn’t offering to love me for the person I was, he was only going to love me if I allowed his professional makeup assistants to transform me into someone completely different.

  As Rob’s and Duke’s hands continued to fondle me, one hand on each thigh, I realized that I had to get out of there.

  It felt so good to finally come to my senses. I looked around the table at the other girls. They weren’t bad people. They were doing the best with their lives that they could, but I knew in my heart I didn’t want to be one of them. These rich boyfriends of theirs, if that’s even what you could call them, didn’t love them. They abused them.

  I had to get out of there, but it wasn’t going to be easy. I didn’t have my phone. I couldn’t call for help. I was in a public place, but it was only semi-public. Obviously, Rob pulled some weight there. We’d gotten in without standing in line, we were in the VIP section, there were security guards everywhere. Could I trust the people there to let me leave if I wanted to? Even if I could walk out, I didn’t even have money to use a payphone, or pay for a cab. I’d have to walk through the city until I could find someone to help me.

  Instinctively, I knew I had to be careful. I could get myself out of this situation, but I would have to play it smart.

  I would have to play it bold too.

  Rob had started kissing my neck, his tongue ravishing me. I threw my head back and pretended to enjoy it. Spurred on by my enthusiasm, he moved down lower, kissing the part of my cleavage that was revealed by my low-cut dress. He put a hand on my neck in a faintly threatening, dominant way, and I shut my eyes.

  It was weird. The night before, when I’d gone back to his apartment, this was what I’d wanted. I’d wanted him to be passionate, to be dominant, to want me. I’d gone willingly, and I’d have allowed him to pleasure himself in whatever way he desired.

  Now, all I wanted was to get out of there. My feelings for him had turned from openness and willingness, to fear, and even disgust. It was strange how quickly things could turn around. If he’d only been willing to accept me for the person I’d been yesterday, if he’d only been willing to respect me, and act compassionately and with care for my feelings, things would have been completely different.

  I reached down to my legs, where Rob and Duke’s hands were slowly inching higher and higher up my dress, and I took them both in my hands. Still pretending I was enjoying Rob’s kisses on my neck, I moved their hands up under my dress until they reached my panties.

  They thought they’d won me over. They thought they were going to have a threesome with me. They thought I was going to let them both use me and fuck me like a whore.

  I’m not judgmental. I’ll be honest. I’ve had fantasies about being fucked by two men at once. In fact, being in a club like that, dressed like that, with two rich, attractive men like that, was pretty much one of my biggest sexual fantasies. But this was all wrong. Every last detail of it was wrong. Fantasies are about pleasure, and naughtiness, and wild, secret desires. They are not about being manipulated, about being treated like an object, about being pressured into doing something you don’t want to do.

  This wasn’t a fantasy. This was a nightmare.

  Chapter 17

  Grant

  I DO A LOT OF JOBS that I don’t have to do. I do them for the pleasure of it. It’s fun taking all that money from large corporations who don’t even know what to do with it. Think about it? There’s a lot of theft that goes on in this country that is totally legal.

  What goes through your mind every time you pay your cell phone bill? Do you even know what the average cell phone bill is in this country now? Seventy-one dollars. That’s seventy-one dollars that every man, woman and child in this country is sending to big corporations at the end of every month.

  How much is your cable bill? Let me guess. Close to a hundred a month? That’s another hundred every household is sending to the men in the corporate offices.

  Car insurance is another hundred a month. Don’t get me started on health insurance. Then there’s gas. Home heating. Home insurance. Home internet. Electricity. Subscription services. Credit cards. Bank fees. The list goes on and on.

  I’m not even talking about taxes, mind you. Uncle Sam pays for a lot of things we need. Sure, tax money gets wasted, but that’s a debate for another day. What I’m talking about is the money that we all are pretty much forced to hand over to the country’s largest corporations, every single month, whether we want to or not. Petroleum, insurance, utilities, communications, banking, entertainment, call it what you want, but everyone has to pay it. There’s no choice. Try telling your kids you’re not going to have electricity, or heat, or internet, or cell phones. Try telling your boss you’re not opening a bank account, or having a credit card. It’s just not an
option. You need those things to live in the modern world.

  You have to pay those bills.

  You’re forced to pay them.

  And what do you pay them with? Let’s start by looking at the minimum wage. Where I live, in California, it’s nine bucks an hour. Nine bucks. That means, by the time you clock off from your shift on the first working day of the week, setting aside deductions, you haven’t even paid for your cell phone. People on minimum wage in my state work one and half days a month for their cell phone. Can you even believe that? Does it make sense? They spend another day and a half on their cable bill. More on their car insurance, gas, bank charges, credit card interest, utilities, and on and on. It’s a wonder there’s anything left for rent, or food, or even the things you actually like.

  Now, I’m not pretending I’m some sort of Robin Hood. I’m not trying to make myself out as some sort of savior. What I do is against the law. I’m a criminal, and one day I could get caught. And I won’t fight the cops if they come. They put their lives on the line for the greater good, and I couldn’t fight them for it. But I can live with that. I can live with what I do, because I feel like it needs to be done. I steal from corporations, and I put the money back in the pockets of ordinary folks.

  I break into these corporations, I take a fraction of the money they’re sucking up from poor, working folk every month, and I spread it back out among the people. Sometimes it gets complicated. Sometimes the people I give the money to end up wasting it. Sometimes innocent people who work for these big corporations end up getting affected by my actions. But for the most part, no one, not even the corporations themselves, ever miss the money I take.

  It’s something I believe in, and I was taught it by a man I loved more than I even loved my own parents, Lacey’s father.

  The job I was working on at the moment involved a lot of surveillance. I’d been working on it for months. There’s a financial company based in San Francisco that makes millions of dollars every month giving payday loans to poor people. It’s the worst kind of business you can imagine. They find the very poorest people in the city, the people who can’t even make it from paycheck to paycheck, and they give them an advance on their paycheck in exchange for a fee. These are people who can’t afford this type of service. The company is literally taking food out of children’s mouths.