Accidentally On Purpose Part 15

D rubbed my back for a few minutes, letting me cry.

"Emmy, you're not a wh.o.r.e," she said softly. "Wh.o.r.es get paid."

"Kyle's my boss. Technically, he's paying me."

She looked thoughtful. "You're right. You are are a dirty wh.o.r.e." a dirty wh.o.r.e."

Chapter Nineteen

"I love how Lafayette is always calling someone a b.i.t.c.h." I said, with a mouthful of ice-cream.

Donya was doing homework on the living room floor while I had myself a True Blood True Blood marathon. marathon.

"b.i.t.c.h, shut up. I'm doing my homework."

"Sookie's a p.u.s.s.y though. She's always screaming. Stop screaming, b.i.t.c.h!"

Donya gave me a death stare, so I didn't say anymore. She was in her final semester of school, majoring in business. Before starting college three years before, she was a model. Not a small time model, but a world cla.s.s model. She's modeled for Versace, Oscar De Lorenta, Dior, Dolce and Gabanna, Marc Jacobs, and more. She's been in all of the top magazines and even graced the cover of a few. D has been in movies and on various television shows. She's been all over the world, has met and befriended all sorts of influential people and celebrities. She was the most beautiful person I knew with her long legs, perfect, yet unusual face and chocolate brown skin.

An agent had found her on the boardwalk as she walked beside her ordinary, plain friend (me), eating cotton candy when we were only 15. The agent said she even ate her cotton candy like a model.

I was lucky enough to go with her to Paris, London, or meet her in Italy or Australia, and of course at a few locations in the U.S like Hawaii or L.A. She didn't always have time to actually hang with me, and she was often overwhelmed, stressed out and frazzled or even down right depressed. The designers were h.e.l.la picky and obnoxious a lot of the time, although they deserve to be. Their fas.h.i.+on was their art and it should be displayed how they wanted it. One time a designer not to be named told her she looked bloated and fat and sent her off of the set. I had felt so bad for her, but she shrugged it off and said it wasn't the worse thing that's been said to her.

On her 28th birthday, Donya stopped taking work. She finished any contracts and followed through on prior commitments, but hung up her runway shoes when all was done.

"I want to quit while I'm still good at what I do. I don't want to be a washed up has been." She explained on the phone to me from j.a.pan.

"You lead such a fabulous life, though," I said.

"I lead a lonely life, E. I want to have a somewhat normal life. I want a family, a permanent home and a minivan."

I gasped. "Now you're going too far. A minivan? Unbelievable."

"I knew that would hit you hard. Anyway, I gotta go, but in a few months I will be free and I get to spend more time with you and my family. Girl, I even miss your nutty mama."

"Now I know that job is making you crazy. Call me when you get to India."

That was three years ago. D had earned enough money to take care of herself for a very long time, but she was frugal with it, and still worked part time. She found the man of her dreams, Jerry who happened to be a major league baseball player. They lived well below their means, stayed under the radar, which was admirable. They agreed that when they started having kids, they would buy the big house and big cars. They lived a fairy tale life, like my parents and siblings.

There was a knock at the door. Donya looked at the door as if just by looking at it the person on the other side would go away. When the knock came again, I said "I don't think they can feel your death stare through the door."

She threw down her pencil and got up to open the door. "Get your boots off my table," she told me before opening the door.

I was wearing a black skirt and a pair of Louis Vuitton boots, taken from D's closet. So technically, she wanted her her boots off of her table. I wanted to live another day, so I didn't argue the particulars. boots off of her table. I wanted to live another day, so I didn't argue the particulars.

"Hi, Donya?" I heard Kyle's voice. I froze with the spoon in my mouth. "I'm Kyle. Is Em here?" He sounded really hopeful.

I was hoping that she would say no and slam the door in his face. Instead she said "How did you get my address?"

"Samantha Grayne."

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h." Donya stomped away from the door, but left it wide open. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her cell off of the coffee table and quickly found the number she was looking for. "Sam! Why are you giving my address out to complete strangers?" She yelled at my mom. "I don't care if he's the pope! I I don't know him!" don't know him!"

She walked out of the living room, arguing with my mom like I would. Donya was an extension of my family, so there was nothing disturbing about her behavior towards my mom. If circ.u.mstances were different I would have laughed, but as it was, Kyle was standing before me. I still had the stupid spoon in my mouth.

He didn't say anything, but he sat down on the couch next to me. He took the spoon from my mouth, put it in the bowl I was holding and put them on the coffee table. Before I could object, he kissed me. I jerked away before I could fall under his spell.

"You can't hurt me like that and then make it up by kissing me." I said bitterly.

"I'm sorry." He whispered and kissed me again. I pulled away again.

"No, Kyle! Go home. Go back to Jess."

He winced, but didn't back away.

"Fine. I'll I'll leave." I jumped off of the couch before he could stop me. "D I'm leaving!" I called out. leave." I jumped off of the couch before he could stop me. "D I'm leaving!" I called out.

She came out of her room, still holding the phone. She and Kyle both watched me as I cursed trying to get into my jacket and dug out my keys.

"I'll get my stuff later." I told her.

As I opened the door, I heard her ask Kyle "Where the h.e.l.l is she going?"

"I don't know."

I slammed the door and ran to my car. As I pulled away, I was surprised that Kyle had not come out behind me. I sped through Cherry Hill, intent on going home but reconsidered and took a detour.

I was feeling so angry and the pain from our argument also felt fresh. I was feeling such a broad range of emotions, I thought I was losing my sanity.

How dare he think he can make up with me so easily! What made him think that I would just let it go and fall back into his arms? And to track me down and come to Donya's door - what b.a.l.l.s!

Life would be so much easier if I just let him go.

I didn't have to wait for him as long as I thought I would. He must have known that I wouldn't go home, because he walked through the door of his apartment only a few minutes after me.

I had parked in the visitor's area, not far from his parking s.p.a.ce, but he would never think to look for my car here. I have had a key to his apartment since soon after I started working for him. He had left his briefcase at home and was in an important meeting. I had to go get it for him. After that, he made sure I had a key and every now and then I would have to use it.

He didn't notice me right away. He put his keys down on the table by the door and took his coat off. I came out of the dark kitchen and into the light of the living room.

"s.h.i.+t." He said, when he saw me.

"I'm rarely allowed to be here incase Jess comes by. You invade my life on every level and I can't even spend the afternoon in your home." I sniffed and quickly wiped away a tear. "That makes me feel like trash. I let you into my home whenever you feel like it, and the circ.u.mstances are the same. Luke could show up anytime and I take that risk. You're hardly risking anything. You're so careful that you you don't get caught, but have no concerns about me getting caught." don't get caught, but have no concerns about me getting caught."

He sighed and looked at the floor, but said nothing.

"That's what I thought." I said after a minute. I wiped my tears and I took his key off of my key ring and threw it on the coffee table.

He was standing in front of the door and once he realized I was going to leave he stood up a little straighter. I boldly walked over, but he put his hands on my shoulders when I tried to go around him.

"Kyle, let me go."

"No way. If you leave now I know you won't ever come back to me."

"If Jess shows up you're going to have a problem. That's why I'm not allowed to be here."

"I want you to be here." He held onto me tighter when I again tried to leave.

"I can't be here, because of Jess." I said lamely.

"I don't give a f.u.c.k about Jess right now!" He roared.

I stared at him, startled. He put his hands on my face and apologized.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just don't care about that right now. I really don't want you to go."

I took a few steps back, out of his reach, and crossed my arms.

"Kyle, let me go."

"I don't want you to leave." He said pathetically.

"I mean...let me go."

He stared at me and shook his head.

"I can't." He took a step towards me.

"You have to, because I am letting you you go." I said softly. go." I said softly.

"No." He shook his head.

"Yes." I started around him for the door again.

"No!" He grabbed me by my wrists.

"Kyle, let go!" He did and I looked at him as if he were crazy. Maybe he was and I trapped myself here with him.

"Emmy, please." He pleaded, stepping towards me again. He again cradled my face in his hands and then kissed me. I pulled away.

"Kyle! You can't make everything okay with a f.u.c.king kiss!"

As if he didn't hear me, he tried to kiss me again. I slapped him hard across the face. My hand hurt from hitting him and I wasn't sure how he was going to react but I stood my ground. He looked a little stunned for a few seconds but shook it off.

Too quick for me to react, he threw me over his shoulder. I yelled at him and punched him in the back as I tried to get down, but he didn't put me down until we reached his bedroom. He threw me on the bed and pinned me down.

I started to scream, but he quickly covered my mouth. He didn't say anything, he just stared at me. He held me down easily and I fought for a long time before I relented and went slack.

He waited until he knew I wasn't going to scream and uncovered my mouth.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he said. "You're not not trash and I don't want to let you go. I will try harder to find a way to make things right, but I don't want you to go." trash and I don't want to let you go. I will try harder to find a way to make things right, but I don't want you to go."

I didn't speak right away. I wasn't sure what to say or how to feel. Part of me wanted to leave and never come back and another part of me wanted to believe him.

When I still didn't say anything after a while, he gave me a closed mouth kiss while keeping his eyes locked with mine. When he tried for a more serious kiss, I turned my head. Aggravated, he forced my head back and kissed me more aggressively than he's ever kissed me.

I really fought it at first, but the truth is, he knew what he was doing. I was a huge sucker for his kisses. From day one, whenever he kissed me he would disarm me completely. No one has ever kissed me the way that Kyle kisses me. Not Luke, not anyone. That's why I kept trying to get away every time he would try.

The more I relented, the harder he kissed me. I involuntarily moaned a little and pushed my body into his. He took my arms and pinned them above my head without ever taking his lips from mine. He pressed himself against me and moaned into my mouth.

I struggled against him as he got more aggressive, but I didn't want him to stop. He used one hand to hold my wrists down and with the other he tore open my s.h.i.+rt. I heard b.u.t.tons. .h.i.tting the bed, the wall, and who knew what else. I cried out in pain when he initially grabbed at my breast but then I sighed with pleasure.

He slid his hand down my stomach and then between my legs. He went around my panties and sent me into a frenzy. He was being so rough, but I was enjoying it.

He started to fumble around with his belt and jeans, never releasing my wrists with his other hand. Once he freed himself, he again reached between my legs and tore tore my panties off of me. He entered me with such force I was pushed half a foot across the bed. He released my hands long enough to pull me back to the edge of the bed and again pinned me down as he slid into me again. my panties off of me. He entered me with such force I was pushed half a foot across the bed. He released my hands long enough to pull me back to the edge of the bed and again pinned me down as he slid into me again.

I really thought we were going to break the bed because we were going at it so hard. He used both hands to pin my arms now and the harder he squeezed my wrists, the closer I knew he was getting. Just when I thought he was about to break my wrists, he moaned my name and it was over.

Chapter Twenty

Luke caressed my bare leg lazily. We were relaxing in his bed, reading. He was reading a paperback and I was reading on my Kindle, but Luke had put his book down, turning his attention on me. I was wearing a pair of boy shorts and a tee s.h.i.+rt, my standard sleeping gear in warm weather.

I liked sleeping at Luke's. I could get completely comfortable without any concerns of another woman walking in and wondering why I was there or why I was in bed with her boyfriend. It had become like a second home, which was really important since my parents' return from Louisiana. If I felt like punching my mom I could just go to Luke's. I had clothes there, a toothbrush, deodorant and other necessities.