Betrayed (a story of love, lust and revenge) (4 page)

“Marcus here.”

‘Hey, this is Sammy. I just got your email about...” she trailed off, not sure what it was about. “I’m the girl in the pictures,” she said hopefully, struggling to get the words out. “My boyfriend took them and posted them, I--”

She heard a bolt of surprise and delight in his voice. “It’s you!” he said delightfully. “I’m so happy you called.”

“What is it you want from me?” she wondered.

“We want you offer you a job,” he said simply.

“Excuse me?”

“We heard about your story, your boyfriend wasn’t exactly, shall we say, coy about what he had done.”

“He’s a prick,” Sammy spat.

Marcus laughed. “Thats the general consensus. We want to do a story on you, have you pose for a few pictures, maybe some--”

“Pictures?” she choked. “I don’t want to do any more pictures. Everyone's had their fun now, a few thousand people have seen me, that’s enough. It’s embarrassing, so let’s leave it at that.”

“A few thousand?” he seemed confused. “Sammy, have you been online recently?”

“I only just signed in, I saw the emails, loads of people--” she looked at the computer again, as if to emphasize, it was then that she realized the spam had stopped going in a while ago. Her spam box was full.

“You went viral, Sammy,” he said simply. “Your story, everything...you’re a star.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Everyone wants a piece of you but no one knows who you are,” he explained. “We’ve all been trying to get in touch, but save from hacking your email...there was nothing we could do. Your boyfriend,
ex boyfriend
, has gone into hiding.”

“Hiding, why?”

“Because he’s the villain of this story. Everyone thinks he’s a prick for what he did to you.”

Sammy couldn’t help but grin. “So...how many people are we talking about?” she wondered.

“Millions.”

Sammy nearly dropped the phone in her shock.

“And we want to pay you to shoot more.”

“Pay me?” she asked, surprised. “How much?”

He told her and this time Sammy did drop the phone.

5

She discovered that her worst fears had come true, the world really had seen her pictures. Lenny’s post had been picked up by a number of bloggers and from there the story went viral. She wasn’t a massive success, but the pictures had been seen by millions, most of whom sided with her.

Lenny had enjoyed the fame for while, reveling in the fact that he was well known, even for being the villain of the story, but eventually the taunts became too much and he withdrew. She hadn’t heard from him since but she knew why, his plan had backfired immensely.

She did a few photo-shoots with the magazine, signed off a few contracts to do more. She did interviews and launched her own Youtube channel and blog. She moved out of her old house, didn’t even bother packing her stuff -- she didn’t want to see any of it again, had no use for the dregs of that life now that she was starting a new one.

She was enjoying a life she never thought she would have, spending money, signing autographs, posing for glamourous photographs. But, despite all of that, something still niggled away at the back of her mind, a desire, a frustration.

She decided to do something about it. In her new life, her new house, she picked up the phone and tapped out a number that used to be so familiar to her.

“Who are you phoning?”

She looked across at the sound, saw Andrew enter the living room in his new suit. He was grinning at her as moved towards her.

“Nobody,” she said casually, returning his smile.

She continued seeing him after she learned about her fame, she didn’t want to let him go. She asked him to live with her, offered to pay his way like Lenny had done for her, but he refused. In the end it didn’t matter, a couple of weeks later he got his big break. She helped, her fame had put him in the spotlight, but it wasn’t all her. When everyone wanted to know who Sammy was dating, who this illusive man was, they found his blog and his books, that was probably down to her, but the publishing contracts, that was all him.

He gave her a kiss on the forehead, brushed his fingers gently across her cheek. “I’m going to the meeting now,” he informed her, looking lovingly into her eyes. “The house is all yours for the night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

They kissed, they smiled, he left. She
was
going to do something he wouldn’t do, she was going to do something she
shouldn't
do, but she couldn’t help herself. She dialed Lenny’s number, spoke to him for the first time in a long time. He was surprised, but happy, to hear from her. He treated her differently, as if he revered her. He let her dominate the conversation. She told him what she wanted and he agreed without retaliation.

***

She was glad Andrew was out because she didn’t want to betray him in their house. He helped to pay the bills now, they had only been together for a few months but the house was in both of their names.

Sammy was surprised to see how shy Lenny was. He was like a timid animal caught in her ferocious stare. He barely uttered a word when she answered the front door and saw him standing there. He looked up, his eyes nearly popping out of this head when he saw how beautiful she looked. She had dressed up just for him.

She always had the perfect body, the pictures and the fans proved that, as did the contracts and the hundred grand in the bank. But he had doubted her and that had made her doubt herself, now she knew and so did he.

She escorted him into the spare room, didn’t want to do it in the room she shared with Andrew. They used it as a guest room and a computer room, he had an office at the back of the house and she preferred to the use the computer in the study downstairs, but they occasionally used the computer in the guest room.

Lenny mumbled a few words as she showed him upstairs but he was nervous, seemed scared and unwilling to say much. He was desperate to please, submissive in front of her. She was a celebrity now, she was a somebody, not just the naive little girl he knew last year. She took control and he let her.

She threw him down on the bed, watched as he propped himself up on his elbows, the bulge evident in his pants, his erection screaming for her attention. She turned the music on, a slow, soft song, then she danced to it, swaying her body to every beat, every melody. She slowly removed her blouse, peeling it away from her skin, exposing herself slowly, inch by inch, watching his eyes look like they were going to blow out of his head.

She stripped to her bra and then set to work on her jeans, popping the button open carefully, slowly opening the zipper, the thin lace G-string underneath. She peeled the trousers off her thighs, running a finger between them before licking the tip, tasting herself. She dropped them to her ankles, kicked them off, stood half-naked in front of him, her finger still pressed into her mouth.

He was gasping, breathless in his desperation, but he didn’t want to make a move, didn’t want to step out of line. She was in control and he knew it.

“Play with yourself,” she told him sternly.

He ripped at his pants, tore out his throbbing penis and wrapped his fist around it. He stared at her whilst he tugged, his eyes glaring at every inch of her flesh. He wanted to ask her to remove her bra and her knickers but he didn’t.

She saw the pleasure in his eyes, saw the readiness in his hand and his movements. When she thought he was ready to blow, she stopped him. She didn’t want to touch him, didn’t want to incite any pleasure that night cause him to finish.

“I want you to save yourself for me,” she told him.

He grinned at that, a wide and eager grin.

She ran a hand down her navel, under her G-string. She thrust a finger inside her, closed her eyes and tilted her head to the ceiling. When she removed the digit it was moist, she tasted herself, let him know just how good she tasted.

“Do you want me?” she asked him.

He nodded, stammered his desperation in a stuttering of words.

She grinned, wide and sinister. “Tough,” she said simply.

He frowned, his eyes still darting around her body, still waiting for her to get on top of him. “What?” he asked after a few moments.

“You heard me,” she told him. “You can’t have me.”

“But--but--”

She shook her head, didn’t let that sly smile fade from her face.

“Please,” he said, sounding like a pleading child, his voice fading into a squeak. “I need you.”

“You need me?”

He nodded. “I love you.”

She laughed.

“It’s true.”

She could still see how desperate he was, could still see his eyes covering her body. He pushed himself upwards, made a move towards her and then stopped himself, sat back down. “I do love you. We were meant to be together.”

“What about your girlfriend?” she asked. “Whatever her name is.”

“She means nothing to me.”

“Really?”

He nodded exasperatedly. “I don’t even like her that much,” he said truthfully. “She’s loud and annoying. She’s not even that good in bed, but me and you…” he trailed off with a lustful sneer.

“You really think we were meant to be together?” she asked him.

He nodded.

“Then you’re more deluded than I thought,” Sammy snapped.

She began to put on her clothes, watching his pleading, desperate eyes as she did so. He couldn’t believe what was happening, couldn't believe that she was leaving him when his body needed her so badly.

“Please don’t do this to me,” he said, letting his emotions take over, letting his penis do the thinking and the talking. “I need you,” he said with a childish whine.

She could see tears forming in his eyes. They appeared quickly coating his vision, before long they were pouring down his face, soaking his cheeks, dripping onto his crotch where his cock still tried to burst through his pants.

He spat out an assortment of desperate pleas, a mess of tantrums and desperation. He promised her everything, said he would do anything to be with her. He told her that he loved her and said that he was an idiot for letting her go.

“Why should I believe you?” she asked him. “Why should I believe anything you say? You lied to me when we were together.”

He shook his head, wiped the river of tears from his cheek. “I was a prick,” he said by way of an apology. “I can’t control it, I think I may be a sex addict.”

She laughed at that, he didn’t seem to be joking. He spilled his guts, told her of all the women he had slept with in the last year, all the women he had slept with when they were together. He spilled his guts and there was a lot to spill. He had slept with his brother’s wife; his best friend’s fiancee. He had a collection of sordid one-night stands, had even experimented with a man who bought him a few drinks in a nightclub.

“I was a mess,” he told her when the tears were drying up. “I was a regular at the clinic for god’s sake, I was on first name terms with all the nurses.”

She twisted her face in disgust.

“I’m still being treated for a few,” he told her.

“You sicken me,” she said simply, when he had laid out his soul and his body had spilt its last tear.