After the week visiting my parents, I took the bus back and started getting my life put back together. I'd earned enough money from the Speed Magazine shoot to get myself an apartment and a less-than-d
ecent car. The beat-up Toyota looked like crap, but it got me where I needed to go.
I bought some used furniture for my new place and a brand-new bed that wouldn't be tainted with any bad memories. Mick kept calling me on my cell, begging me to forgive him and take him back. After a while, he gave up and started leaving messages saying that he wanted to be friends and would I like to come pick up any of my stuff he had carefully set aside. Eventually, he gave up on that and left a final message telling me to go fuck myself and that he'd left all my shit outside, so if I didn't come get it, the bums would carry it off.
I knew the keepsakes I had from my grandmother would be in those boxes and pictures of my family I'd never be able to replace, so I'd better rescue them while I still could.
I didn't want or need anything else from the life I'd spent with Mick. They were all wasted years to me now and I was ready to move on to a new and fabulous future as an independent woman.
The only regret I had was that I hadn't seen or spoken to Ethan. I missed him, not to mention the fabulous things he did to my body, but I knew things were best left forgotten between us.
He was a notorious bachelor, and I wanted more than that from a man. I wanted the same old dream I'd always wanted: to get married and travel the world with my husband. Ethan could never give me that, and I would only get hurt if I tried to make our night together anything more than it was: a one-night stand.
Grabbing my purse, I headed out the door. First, I'd stop by Mick's and get my things. Then I had a modeling job for an advertising circular. It was a small-paying gig, but it would allow me to pay next month's rent without having to dig into the savings account I had opened with what was left of my paycheck from the motorcycle shoot. Soon, I wouldn't have to worry about things like that. Soon, I would be a star.
Chapter Twelve
Ethan
"Fuck me like a dirty girl. A really dirty girl," Angela gasped and moaned, placing my hand on her ass and begging me to spank her like I usually did.
I had her bent over my desk and was tugging on her ponytail while I fucked her from behind, but she just wasn't doing it for me like she used to. Only by closing my eyes and imagining Kayla was I able to bring myself to climax, but I didn't want to do it inside of another woman. It just seemed wrong, even though Kayla and I weren't in a relationship. In fact, I hadn't seen or heard from her since I woke up alone the morning after her photoshoot.
So, just as I was about to come, I pulled out of Angela's sloppy cunt and shot my load all over her ass.
"Yeah, baby. Now I really am a dirty girl," Angela moaned and started rubbing my jizz into her skin like lotion. It disgusted me, and I had to turn away so she wouldn't see.
"Get dressed. I've got an appointment with Keith in just a few minutes," I said, desperate to get her off my desk.
I should have ended things with her long ago, but when Kayla disappeared the way she had, I was looking for someone, anyone, to fill the emptiness I was suddenly feeling. I'd never been so hung up on a woman. The night we spent together was incredible, and when I awoke the next morning, I was actually looking forward to spending the entire day with her.
I'd planned it all out in my mind. First, I'd serve her a delicious breakfast in bed, then we'd fuck in the shower and get dressed. I'd take her riding on the pair of bikes I kept at home and show her the most beautiful parts of the city. Then, a romantic picnic at my favorite, secret hide-a-way where I'd fuck her out in the tall grass.
To top off the day, I'd take her shopping on Rodeo Drive and buy her an elegant evening gown and maybe some jewels to go with it. Show her what it was like to be treated right. Then we'd have dinner at the best restaurant in town. I'd take her home with me and we'd spent the whole night fucking just like we had the night before. I'd make her body come in ways she never knew her body could. It would be a magical day shared just between the two of us.
I'd woken up to find she was gone. I drove by her old apartment, but it was obvious from the way Mick was pacing outside yelling at her through his cell phone that she wasn't home. I thought about calling her myself, but I wasn't going to stoop to doing the same thing Mick was doing. She had my number, and she knew where I worked. If Kayla wanted to get a hold of me, she would. The next move was entirely up to her. Only, the next move never came.
Frustrated and alone, I let Angela service me in the way she always had. She had a talented tongue and a decent body, but my enthusiasm just wasn't in it. Every time I wanted to come, I had to close my eyes and think of Kayla. I knew it wasn't fair to Angela, but if Kayla wasn't going to contact me, what else could I do?
"Mr. Colson, Keith Wilkes is here to see you, sir," Angela's voice echoed through the intercom. I startled to realize I hadn't even noticed her leave my office to return to her desk.
"Great. Send him in," I said and moments later, Keith swept through the door with his usual, charming good looks.
"We're ready for the launch. The All-American is available for purchase at all of our retail outlets and the issue of Speed Magazine hits the stands Friday morning. I've got you scheduled for press interviews all that day, and then that evening will be our party celebrating the launch of our newest and greatest motorcycle yet."
"Great job, Keith. You worked your ass off on this one, and I appreciate it. You'll find a bonus on your paycheck this month to prove it."
"Good," he joked, and we shot the bull for a little while, discussing various details about his life and then big the launch campaign. He really was the best of the best.
"Well, it's going to be one hell of a party. Who are you taking as your date this year?" he wanted to know.
"I'm not sure I'll take anybody. These things always get splashed all over the tabloids, and then I get plagued by paparazzi wanting to know if the date I brought is my new girlfriend. I tried that once, and it wasn't for me. Never again. I'll just show up stag. I'm sure you've invited plenty of eligible young models for me to hit on all night long."
It was no secret that I went for the model type, and every aspiring star out there was always trying to hook up with me, hoping it would advance her career by landing her a spot on the cover of my magazine. Unfortunately for them, I didn't trade favors that way; but they didn't need to know that until after I'd come.
"Oh yes, there'll be tons of models there for you to choose from. Speaking of which, I sent an invitation to the launch party to that girl who did the cover shoot, what's her name? Karla Bran?"
"Kayla Brandt," I corrected him.