Love Online(4)

My chest felt raw. “Yeah. I’m good.” When the waiter came back around, I said, “Can I have another Macallan?”

He nodded and went to fetch my drink.

Benny broke off a piece of bread and stuffed it into his mouth. “Hope you don’t mind, I invited that girl Shera I’m seeing and her friend to join us for lunch.”

My brow lifted. “Her friend?” That could only mean one thing.

“Yeah. She wanted to meet you. She’s not an actress. I don’t think she wants any favors like that. I think she just wants to fuck you, to be honest, so she can tell people she slept with Ryder McNamara.”

“Great.”

When I stared off, he slammed his hand down on the table, causing some of the silverware to go flying.

Jesus.

“You still down about the Mallory thing? Man, fuck her! Forget about it. She friggin’ dumped you. It’s been two years. Now she’s with some…nobody. Move on from that shit.”

I couldn’t blame Benny for trying to rationalize with me. He’d never known the full story of what went down between Mal and me—why I took most of the blame for what happened between us, even though she was the one who ended it. I’d never shared the full story with anyone. He might have felt differently if he knew the truth.

The waiter brought my whiskey, and I downed it.

Two girls approached our table.

A tall redhead waved. “Hey. Sorry we’re late.”

Benny placed his hand around the redhead’s waist. “Ryder, this is Shera. And this is her friend—what’s your name again?”

She answered him but looked right at me. “Ainsley.”

Ainsley.

As the third Macallan hit me, I suddenly felt very self-destructive.

Ainsley, I think you’re gonna get lucky today.

***

I came home that night feeling like I needed a shower.

I’d ended up going to Ainsley’s apartment and angry-fucking her while imagining she was Mallory. She had the same black hair, so it was easy to visualize. I was a sick fuck. I regretted it but couldn’t take it back.

She didn’t seem to mind a minute of it, though. We both came hard, and she had a huge smile on her face. Then, per usual, I immediately just wanted to go home. Fucking-and-running had never felt good to me, but the sex only felt great in the moment. When it was over, the immediate need to flee always set in.

Fortunately, this girl had no expectations, so I didn’t even have to pretend. Easy in, easy out. Still, the older I got, the crappier that scenario felt. At twenty-eight, I had started to want more than just a quick fuck. I just didn’t think I was going to find the right person out here.

Anyway, my shower was a walk-in. It was more like a wet room with elaborate glass tile that changed colors depending on the level of heat. It was my favorite part of the house.

As the water poured down on me, I started to think again about the bomb Benny had dropped on me earlier today. My relationship with Mallory flashed before my eyes like a movie on fast forward. Then a tear fell from my eye.

Fuck.

Throughout the entire breakup, and everything that had gone on before, I’d never once cried—until now. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried at all—probably my mother’s funeral. Granted, this was only one tear, but it was one freaking tear too many.

I scrubbed over my face and vowed to let this be it—let this be the end of my guilt and the end of my dwelling on what happened with Mallory. It needed to end. I needed to move on as much as she needed her fresh start. She deserved that. I had to get over it.

Shutting off the water, I blew out a long breath before drying off.

Still wrapped only in my towel, I lay in bed and grabbed my laptop. A stream of water dripped down my abs.

I’d told myself I wasn’t going to go back on that cam-girl site. But nevertheless, my fingers clicked away, and I somehow ended up in Montana Lane’s chat room. I used the excuse that I was just going to see what she was up to.

There she was, looking as cheerful as ever. How she was able to sit in that room, talk to all these people, and look like she actually gave a shit was beyond me. She had these guys wrapped around her finger, though. I caught myself smiling at her and literally slapped my own face.

The bedroom behind Montana was always very cluttered, with various props lying around. Today I noticed her violin in the background, along with a feather boa and some dildos. She had white Christmas lights hanging on the walls and had made a canopy out of sheer curtains. She situated herself on the bed with her legs crossed. Her boobs bounced as she moved around.

The cha-ching sound of men throwing tokens into the pot rang out.



Thirty tokens: James450 wants to see Montana Lane show her tits.



They were all in cahoots, trying to throw in enough money together to get her to take her shirt off. The token sounds were on fire tonight.

Cha-ching. Cha-ching. Cha-ching.

It didn’t take long to total the magic number.

She was mid-conversation when she must have noticed that the threshold had been hit. Montana lifted her shirt over her head, letting her beautiful, natural tits spring free. She’d handled that so casually, as if she’d done it hundreds of times before.

But this wasn’t just any time for me. It was my first time seeing her topless. Jesus. More of a warning would have been nice. I swallowed hard, ill-prepared for how amazing her body was. Her breasts were like none I had ever seen, so full—with a slight drop but not droopy. Her nipples were a medium pink color and the size of half-dollars. This girl was the epitome of natural beauty.