Our Dirty Little Secret

Dallas

“I hate this job.”

That’s what I would’ve said before they fired my ass from the job. Oh, and given all the talk about not finding the right job in New York-fucking-City.

I needed this job. I was low on rent and had to pay my boyfriend back for last month. I know, I know… it’s that question of why I was even owing him money in the first place, but he’d covered a gig for his band last Friday.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to at least book an Uber for you?” Sadie said.

I shook my head and smiled. Sadie was nice—unlike the few hundred who sat behind this desk all day, pretending to bring money into this almost crumbling company.

“I can manage. My boyfriend will come pick me up.”

I gathered everything I needed, straightened my already crisp silk shirt, and waltzed out of the company. This job was my only lifeline, but I’d rather let them fire me than succumb to sucking off a 50-year-old exec to pay my bills.

I waited for an hour, but there was still no sign of my boyfriend. No answered calls. No text messages. With the little change I had left, I booked a taxi back home. Jackson, my boyfriend, would hate it when I told him the news. He was broke this month, and we'd been scraping by on my salary alone.

I rounded the front porch and marched straight to our door, fumbling in my bag for the keys,

only to find it unlocked.

Weird. Jackson was usually back by four.

I shoved the door open and that’s when the sounds hit me—wet, rhythmic slaps and guttural moans echoing from the bedroom. I kicked off my shoes, snatched my favorite vase, and tiptoed forward.

For some reason, my heart thrummed loudly in my chest as I approached. The moment I

opened it, my vase fell to the floor.

There was Jackson, my Jackson, splayed face down on our bed, ass high and impaled on a massive cock with another thick dick choking his throat. Two hefty men, wearing nothing but leather pants, took turns pounding him while stroking his dick, and he moaned like a whore.

“Jackson!”

He shook them off and stood up, pulling his hair out of his face. The men immediately put their dicks in, sitting right on the bed like I hadn't just caught them fucking my boyfriend.

“Babe! Wh-what are you doing back home this early?”

I could already feel the sting at the corners of my eyes.

“Jackson,” I barely whispered.

“Look, this isn't what you think. I was just doing some experiment.”

“Experiment?!” I shook.

“With a man's dick in your ass?! What have I not done to fix this relationship? I feed you and even support your shitty band.”

“Oh, come on, Dallas. Of course you had to do that, you're my girlfriend.”

Every single thing coming out of his mouth annoyed me even more. It was like the anger overshadowed the pain. I looked at him spew that shit while the strangers got comfortable on my bed—the one I'd spent my money to buy.

“I lost my job…” My voice trailed off. I looked down at my vase, my favorite vase, the one my brother had remade and sent over to me. It was broken. Useless shards pricked my feet.

Even that pain couldn't override the anger bubbling in my chest.

“What the fuck? You lost your job? What the fuck are we going to live on now, Dallas? You

know my band and I are still hoping to get a good gig—that way, we'd be famous and shit. How would we even eat? I hope you don't expect me to work a 9-5 like you. That's just a

horror show.”

“And I came back to tell my boyfriend about it. To cry in his arms.”

The way he stood there, his dick dangling in the air. I didn't know when I picked up a shard from the broken vase.

Jackson's eyes shone a little, and he moved back with calculated steps, hands in the air, that disgusted smug face on.

Did I really fall for that?

The tears trickled down my face, but I was more focused on them. The two men quickly picked up their stuff and dashed out.

“Baby, baby, you need to calm down. We can talk about this like two consenting adults.”

I marched forward, shard in hand.

“Get out of my house, Jackson.”

“Baby, you know what? We can agree to an open relationship. Yeah, you've always said you

wanted some kind of adventure.”

He slowly picked up his shirt, and his denim followed.

“Drop it. I bought you those shorts. Drop everything! Remove the love necklace too—you

don't deserve it!”

The look in his eyes showed he understood the assignment. He pulled off the necklace, tossing it to the other side of the bed.

“Now, get the fuck out of my house! Get out!”

I chased him as he scurried out, barely standing firm as he slammed the door in fear.

“Fuck!”

I tossed the piece away, both hands in my hair as I shook and tugged at it, screaming.

A slip passed under my door. One look at it, and I knew it was an eviction notice. I fell to my knees, my black mascara smearing on my cheeks. I had no freaking money. No place to live and not even a single cent to find another.

Why was everything happening to me? Why the fuck did I have to work so hard for my shit and see no results? Why?!

I came to New York to start a fresh life. To start a life as Dallas, not just Dallas Romero.

But now my life was falling apart right in front of me.

I was fucked.

I rushed to my bag and took out my phone in a hurry, calling the only person I knew still cared about me somehow.

“Hello, Dallas,” my brother's voice played on the other end.