Mister Distraction (Distraction #2) Page 6

  “Really?” I thought he knew me better than this.

  Chapter Five

  I reached my Jeep, trying to control my anger. Fuck. I hit the steering wheel and then tore out of the driveway not knowing where I was going, just needing space. I drove around for an hour, completely annoyed and irritable. My fingers were nervous, and I kept changing the station on the radio to keep them busy. The Jeep ended up in the underground garage at Strikers and I sat there stunned for a while, not remembering the drive. It was like automatic pilot; I got out and mindlessly headed toward the elevator.

  The walk felt like I was in a dream, a fog. My mind was blurry, so my body took over. The elevator doors opened and I got a rush from just being there. I waved at the man at the front counter and went in. The sounds of sex filled the air, the smell of leather and sex making me hard instantly. This was my element. I looked around at all the half-naked and fully naked women. How could this be bad? I felt instantly better, energized. I craved the whiskey, but knew in my state of mind I’d better resist.

  I wandered further into the club and passed the bondage area to the room where people were having sex everywhere. It was a huge room with couches and leather covered tables about knee height throughout the space. Windows were placed around the outside of the room with people sitting in chairs watching the orgy. I ran my hand through my hair and took my shirt off. My cock wanted to play.

  A pretty lady with long, dark hair approached me, wearing just a matching pair of red-laced bra and panties. She slid her warm fingers between mine and I got a charge from the gentle contact. My dick stood up and applauded at my choice of ‘strange’. She strolled to a couch in the corner, her hand holding mine tightly. I watched her black hair sway from behind, and I saw my coffee girl, Katarina. I lost that beautiful picture when she turned around and began taking off her bra and panties, doing a little striptease for me. Then, flashes would return to my eyes, playing tricks on me. I would see Katarina’s beautiful smile when she was reading her e-mails. I saw her bright blue eyes and her slender fingers. Fuck. I didn’t want the girl standing in front of me. I wanted Katarina. The girl before me was making her way back to me completely naked, and she started to kiss my neck. I pushed her away, grabbing her arm roughly, and she smirked at me. I shoved her to the couch, my body already betraying my thoughts. I was painfully hard. I towered over her. She reached up and ran her free hand up my stomach and chest. I grabbed her hands and held them over her head. She lifted her hips off the couch, humping my lower stomach, attempting to rub her cunt against my hard-on.

  I shook my head, trying hard to clear my thoughts. Katarina’s face kept popping into my head. I tried closing my eyes, but it only made it worse. Shit! I unzipped my pants and could hear the girl under me begin begging me to fuck her. I stood up and stared at the more-than-willing naked girl on the couch. The sounds of sex were everywhere, and people were watching. I was so ready. I looked down at my cock. It was dancing at the sight of her, but I tucked it painfully away, turned, and walked out of the orgy room. I took the stairs in a hurry to be anywhere but there. I hopped in my Jeep and went to the closest gym.

  I walked in like I owned the place, and nobody stopped me. I used the weights and the boxing bags until I couldn’t stand up any longer. I concentrated on the smell of leather and sweat and convinced myself this was my new element. It made me relax a little.

  I drove back to Jessica’s house and knocked on the door. Jonah, Jessica’s husband, answered. He looked at my luggage and let me in. He showed me to the downstairs bedroom without a word, and I thanked him. I took a much-needed shower, relieving myself twice. I slept well that night, and woke up the next morning fresh and in a better state of mind.

  I returned to the shower, preparing myself for the third no-sex day ahead. I took care of business, which made me more relaxed. I went into the kitchen. Jonah was awake with four-year-old Jack. They were eating breakfast together.

  “Good morning, thanks again for last night.” I helped myself to the cereal at the table and poured milk into my bowl. Jack was too busy with oatmeal and playing with his truck to say anything.

  “No problem, Brother. So Jessica filled me in on last night.” I raised my eyes to his face. “She says you freaked out. She’s worried about you.” Jonah was politely filling me in.

  “I have a plan.” It included getting to know a certain girl. I needed to find a way to delay my tendencies until she was ready. I reached over the table and picked up the brochures from the night before.

  “I am going to look into this. “Jonah raised an eyebrow, eyeing me skeptically as I held up the colorful pamphlets and then glanced around to see if anyone was listening.

  “Jessica doesn’t think you’re addicted; she is just really worried about you. She wants you to be happy. She thinks you’re sad and self-destructive, and that’s why you work so much.” Jessica entered the room, and Jonah went silent.

  “Good morning, sis,” I say, nodding at her before returning to my cereal. I was stunned silent as I peeked over at Jonah. He had regret written all over his face. I knew two things by what he said, and his reaction, when my sister strolled into the room. I smiled at my discovery; my twin didn’t think I was an addict and she was so worried about me, she told her husband. Jonah was probably sworn to secrecy, judging by the look on his face. I pushed from the table and peered at the time.

  “I’ve got to go.” I brushed past my sister and tugged on a lock of her brown hair. She yelped and then giggled.

  “You don’t have to be at work for an hour and twenty minutes.” Dang. Her response was instantaneous; Jessie always knew my schedule. I was impressed. She turned back to me a moment after she took her eyes off the clock. I locked eyes with her, letting a sly grin slip.

  “You met someone didn’t you?” It was unbelievable how she could read my thoughts.

  “Well, there is someone I would like to meet, but she has yet to notice me.” Her face was suddenly filled with amusement. She nodded towards the door. “Better go, lover boy.”

  I made my way to pick up Bo first. He was waiting by the front door when I got there, and we left. Bettina was most likely still in bed. I drove to the coffeehouse and noticed the students were all gone. There were just six people in the whole place. I ordered my coffee and found a seat next to where Katarina liked to sit.

  I read the brochures I grabbed from my sister’s house while I drank my coffee and waited for Katarina. I knew I didn’t have a sex problem, but it would take a miracle to keep me from having any until the dancing princess was ready.

  When I put my mind to anything, I committed fully. This renewed mission of mine was no different. I had waited years for a chance to talk with her again. I had to be patient now, clean myself up. I went over the twelve steps of recovery. I asked the man behind the coffee counter for a pen and paper, and then I sat at my table to work on number eight of the twelve steps. I made a list of all the people I have wronged. I was in the middle of my very short list—I was having trouble thinking of names; all I could picture were faces—when I lifted my eyes. Katarina sat in her booth, removing the items from her table before setting up her computer. It was like the other days. She studied her laptop for about a half hour and left without noticing me. She waved at the man behind the coffee counter on her way out. I was beginning to recognize that she had two-dimensional vision. She saw what was directly in front of her and nothing else existed.

  I went to work and called my older sister to inform her I was willing to get help—on my terms. She was excited and told me she would have more information tonight. I was less enthusiastic. I called the animal clinic, my weekend job, and quit. I didn’t have any attachments there; I got the job right out of vet school and wanted more experience. So quitting wasn’t a tough decision to make. I quickly noticed steps one through seven, eleven, and twelve of the twelve steps involved God. I wanted to leave my Sundays open. I was willing to accept any help I could get. I knew it was going to be hard, literally
. I made the first call to number one on my list of people I’d wronged. It was Dave, my friend from high school. I had completely shunned him after he left for college, not returning his calls, avoiding him when he would stop by my apartment. He answered right away, and we planned to meet at the gym by my office for a little game of basketball.

  The days seemed to fly by. I had arranged an early morning kick-boxing class and a gym workout at night. Dave and I planned to meet twice a week for a basketball game. I was working on keeping myself very busy. Friday was my first sex-addict meeting, and I managed to go every night since. I was empowered by the stories the people would tell, and how they rose from it.

  Sunday was my first day back at church since Jacy’s funeral and that was nine years ago. It was uncomfortable, and I stood in the back—paced was more like it. I saw her family walk in, everyone but William. They took a seat near the front. I took off my tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons. I couldn’t seem to breathe. I began to sweat. I tried to listen to Pastor Dan, but I was distracted. Jessica came to stand next to me. She had Jasmine in her arms.

  “How are you holding up back here?” I let a nervous laugh slip. “I am proud of you for coming.” I glanced at her, my sweat rolling into my eyes, making them sting.

  “I think I should leave; I don’t belong here.” She grabbed my hand, her eyes filled with worry.

  “If you leave, I leave.” My eyes shifted to Jasmine in her arms. A tiny little smile played across her face. Shit, the girl had my smile and she owned it. I melted at that one tiny smile. She reached out for me to hold her and I looked at Jessica. I never held Jasmine. She crawled into my lap on occasion, but hold her, carry her—never. I took her in my arms and she wrapped her tiny legs around my waist. She giggled in my ear and it was a wonderful sound.

  I listened to the rest of the message with her in my arms. The pastor focused on the power of prayer. He was very convinced that it was the only way to be close to God. The service ended and I made my way over to Jacy’s family. I made eye contact with her father first and stuck my hand out. “Mr. Ronald, it’s good to see you.”

  Mrs. Ronald gave me a big hug before she spoke. “We miss you, Jason; you need to come see us more.” Jenny, the sister that was a couple years younger than Jacy, came up to me next. She was a spitting image of Jacy. I stopped breathing for a moment.

  “Hey, handsome.” I raised a questioning eyebrow at her and quickly glanced at her parents to see if they heard her, but they were too busy visiting other people to notice.

  She came up to me a bit too closely. “I am home for the summer. We should get together and catch up.” I stepped back. That’s not going to happen—at least that’s what my mind said, but my body said ‘game on’. I made a mental note to stay clear of Jenny. She looked way too much like her sister, and it would be way too easy for me to convince myself she was an angel and my second chance to be with Jacy.

  Monday, as I left work, I called Bettina. My plan was to meet her and apologize. She didn’t answer, and I didn’t leave a number. I had Bo all weekend and dropped him off Monday night. He didn’t want to get out of the Jeep, and I didn’t blame him, but I managed to coax him. I opened and closed the door to the apartment, leaving him inside and striding to my Jeep at record speed.

  Tuesday was the same, except when I left work and called Bettina, she answered.

  “Hello, Jason.” She had a sneer in her voice.

  “Hi, Bettina. I would like to meet you tonight if it’s possible.” She was quiet.

  “All right, meet me at the club eight o’clock.”

  “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” I ran my fingers through my hair thinking about the sex that would be happening inside the club that I wouldn’t be part of. I wanted sex badly; it was all I thought about, obsessed over.

  “Please, Jason, meet me there and I’ll talk to you about anything.”

  “Okay, eight. No games, Bettina.” That was it; she hung up. And I couldn’t help the feeling that I was a recovering sinner walking into the house of temptation.

  At eight o’clock, I walked through the elevator doors at the tenth floor. Strikers, the Men’s Club was full for a Tuesday night. I took a seat at the bar. Over the last couple days, I had begun wearing t-shirts and jeans. The jeans seemed to hide my constant hard-on, and the t-shirt kept me cool. I was so fidgety and angry. My dick was in pain, but I welcomed the pain, as it was a reminder of how in control I was.

  Alex approached me first. “Hey, man. I saw Bettina with a guy. Did you know that redhead we fucked the other night had a boyfriend?” I shook my head. “Well, Bettina’s in there right now with the boyfriend.”

  I pushed my way through the crowd to the playroom they were in. “What the fuck?” Both Bettina and the boyfriend, Red, turned to me. “Bettina, did you set this up?” She smirked and I knew I was in for a show.

  “Use your safe word, Bettina; he’s not like me.” She ignored me, nodding at Red to get started.

  “Don’t do this!” I was shouting. I knew that soon, very soon, I would be escorted out for interrupting. “Please, Bettina, what I do to you is nothing like what he’ll do.”

  Trevin, the bouncer, approached me from behind. “Is there a problem?” I took a step back, and Red tied her hands above her head, attaching them to a swiveling hook. He tied her feet together and put a blindfold over her eyes.

  Trevin tried to talk to me again. “Jason come talk to me at the bar.” I ignored him again. The crowd grew big around the scene. Red grabbed a long-tail whip and began swinging it. He was getting the feel of it. I turned away before I could see him hit her with it. I couldn’t stand the scream she let out. It was worse than the squealing of an abused animal.

  I stormed to the back offices and knocked on the door. Brad answered. I began my pacing back-and-forth in his office.

  “She’s got a problem, Brad. She needs help, and I can’t be there for her anymore. She’s out there right now, and Red is revenge-fucking her. She’s trying to drive me insane and instead she is going to get herself killed. Please help her.” He fixed his stare straight into my eyes and I felt his anger towards me.

  “We both know what she is doing, Jason. If we stop her, she will just use someone else to get your attention. She is drama, Jason, and this is how she plays everyone around her.” He took a drink out of the small glass he had been swirling. “She is a single lady now, so I’ve heard.” His eyes fixated on mine again and raised an eyebrow, letting me know he was upset I didn’t inform him myself. “She can have sex with whoever she wants to.” Anger laced his words, and I begged him with my eyes to punch me first. My fists curled into tight balls, and they itched to pound his face.

  “If something happens to her, Brad, I know you will regret it.” I couldn’t hold back my infuriated, loud voice. He immediately rose to his feet, crossing the room to open the door.

  “Bettina’s a big girl, and she is no longer your concern.” His body faced away from me, and I knew right then we were done, not only with this conversation, but with our friendship. I took the hint and left. I made my way to the men’s room. I looked around for something or someone to unleash my anger on. I felt powerless to defend her. I glanced at myself in the mirror as I splashed water on my face. Fuck, what can I do? I stared at myself, waiting for the me in the mirror to answer. I closed my eyes and bowed my head, and for the first time in nine years, I said a prayer to God, the universe, to any listening angel:

  “God, please give me strength to rescue her without hurting anyone.” I relaxed myself as I repeated the prayer over and over.

  I opened my eyes and walked back to the scene. He had finished the whipping and was fucking her. She was weeping loud enough for all the people watching to know it wasn’t pleasurable for her, but no one stopped it. She was self-destructing right in front of everyone. It was like watching a bloody car accident where no one wanted to step in and help. They were all enjoying the sight of blood too much. Red was clearly enjoying himself.
He was worked up and pounding her hard, his grunts louder than her whimpers. He was behind her and had her pulled toward him at a weird angle. Instead of lifting her tied legs up, he held them steady. That’s when I noticed he was fucking her in the ass. Fuck. Rage boiled inside me, and I felt the veins in my neck pulsating. My fists were suddenly light. My breathing was uncontrollable, and I moved my way to the front of the crowd. I heard people whispering as I bumped past them. He whispered something in her ear when he finished. He was a true jackoff, not bothering to untie her right away, making her pain and humiliation linger as he disappeared. A few long strides later, I was at her side, knowing it was a complete violation of club rules. I moved quickly to untie her, and swept her into my arms. He came back moments later dressed, disgusted by what he was seeing.

  “I am finished with your trash now.” I considered dropping her to beat the shit out of him, but Bettina’s sobbing made me focus my attention only on her. I carried her to a private room and set her on a chair, then went to the corner to get a towel. I sat with her as she cried.

  “Bettina, why didn’t you use your safe word?” She let a nervous laugh break through. “And why didn’t he stop when he heard you crying?”

  “I wanted it to hurt. He wanted me to cry. He said he got off when he heard females crying or begging him to stop. He told me in front of everyone that’s what he wanted from me. He said my only out was my safe word.” I was silent after that. Bettina and I were together for three years and had anal sex only a handful of times, but I was never that violent with her. I knew by the brutal force that he was giving her, she was going to be in pain for a while.

  “Let me take you home.” I was trying to stand her up, but she was still too weak. I walked back to the playroom and grabbed her clothes. I dressed her and carried her to my Jeep. I loaded her up, got in, and started talking.