One hell of a ride

Eden

The next night, I found myself back at the club, my skin buzzing with restless energy. Neon lights pulsed as I slid onto a barstool, the same one I’d occupied before Daniel dragged me outside. My dress rode up my thighs, cool leather against my heated flesh. I ordered a vodka soda, then another, letting the alcohol numb the edges of my obsession.

He’s not coming, I told myself. It was a fluke. But my body refused to believe it; my nipples peeked under the thin fabric, hungry for his teeth. Across the room, broad shoulders hunched over a drink caught my eye.

Daniel? My pulse spiked as I squinted through the haze of smoke and sweat. The man’s profile was similar, strong jaw, silver-streaked hair, but when he turned, cold disappointment washed over me. Just a stranger. I slammed back my drink, welcoming the burn.

“Rough night?” The bartender leaned in, his gaze dipping to my cleavage.

“You have no idea.” I pushed my empty glass toward him. “Another. And… did a guy named Daniel come in tonight? Silver hair, sharp suit, looks like he owns the place.”

The bartender’s expression shuttered. “Honey, this club’s got rules. No info on clients. Keeps things… discreet.” He tapped the sign behind the register.

NO SOCIAL MEDIA. NO PHOTOS. NO EXCEPTIONS. Before pouring my refill.

I swallowed the truth: I fucked a married man; he has to be married or divorced. I don’t even know his last name. The vodka turned to acid in my stomach. Still, I lingered until closing, scanning every shadowed corner, every departing figure, nothing.

I picked up my bag and slid off the chair and left; the city’s chill bit through my dress as I stumbled toward Lilian's BMW. My phone buzzed in my clutch, Lilian’s name flashing on the screen.

"Where are you? Daniel is here, and he wants to meet you." I silenced it, my fingers trembling out of anger. She's telling me of meeting her husband when I am out here looking for Mr. Dickson.

I didn’t go home. I drove aimlessly, tires humming over wet asphalt as rain slicked the windows. Neon signs blurred into streaks of color, reflecting off the puddles like liquid oil. My head throbbed, vision swimming from too much vodka and too little sleep.

"Eden, where are you?" Lilian’s text nagged, but I couldn’t face her pristine world. Not yet.

Alleys branched off the main roads, dark and narrow, promising anonymity. I pulled into one, killing the headlights. My breathing echoed in the dim space.

He’s not coming, I thought again, bitter laughter dying in my throat. Fingers trailed down my stomach, slipping beneath my damp lace panties. I was already fucking wet for him.

The engine clicked as it cooled. I leaned back, eyes closed, and touched myself in slow circles that made my hips twitch. Fuck. I imagined Daniel’s hands instead, rough and demanding, shoving my thighs apart. My other hand yanked up my dress, cool air ghosting over my skin as I worked myself faster, biting my lip to stifle a whimper. The release, when it came, was sharp and empty. I slumped against the seat, chest heaving, the scent of my own arousal hanging heavy in the car.

I woke up to someone shaking me. I opened my eyes and saw Victoria. "Miss Eden, it's 10am. You should get up for breakfast."

I groan, burying my face deeper into the pillow. My head is pounding from last night's escapades. "Five more minutes, Victoria."

"I'm afraid Mrs. Schmidt instructed me to wake you, child. She seems to be in a foul mood this morning." Victoria steps back from the bed, clasping her hands together. "I'll leave you to get ready."

I sit up, rubbing my tired eyes. "Thanks, Victoria. I'll be down soon."

Who the fuck is Mrs. Schmidt?

My legs feel like jelly as I drag myself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water helps soothe my aching muscles, but it does little to prepare me for the confrontation I know is coming. Lilian has been dying to play the role of the strict mother, and last night's antics gave her the perfect opportunity. I dress quickly, dreading the lecture that awaits me in the dining room and whoever the fuck Mrs. Schmidt is.

When I arrive downstairs, Lilian is already seated at the table, sipping her coffee with a pinched expression. Her perfectly coiffed hair and designer dress are a stark contrast to my disheveled appearance.

"Nice of you to join us, Eden," she says coldly. "Or should I say, to finally wake up after your little escapade last night?"

I roll my eyes, helping myself to a plate of fruit. "It's not even noon yet, Lilian. And I'm an adult; I can go out if I want to."

"We have a reputation to uphold in this household," Lilian snaps. "Your new stepfather and I didn't work this hard to have you tarnish our image."

"Oh, please." I snort. "The only image you care about is the one you show to your rich friends. You don't give a damn about me or my new stepdad, whoever he is."

Lilian slams her coffee cup down, causing the delicate china to rattle. "How dare you speak to me that way? I am your mother, and you will show some respect!"

I lean forward, meeting her frosty glare with one of my own. "Respect is earned, Lilian, not given. And you haven't done a damn thing to earn mine."

Her hand flies up as if to strike me, but I stand my ground, refusing to flinch. She hesitates, her anger warring with her need to maintain composure. After a tense moment, she lowers her hand back to the table.

"You're just like your mother," she hisses. "Stubborn, defiant, and ungrateful."

"Which one? I've been adopted 7 times, not that you know that."

Lilian's eyes narrow. "Your adoptive mother was a gold-digging whore who trapped your father into adopting you. She didn't know the first thing about being a good parent."

"I don't know which one you're talking about. Enlighten me. The first one? Second? Should I go on? The list is long." The mention of my mothers stings, but I refuse to let Lilian see me hurt. "At least my adoptive mothers never tried to buy my love with designer clothes and fancy parties. They loved me for who I am, not who they wanted me to be."

"You should be grateful."

"Did you ask me to come here to tell me how good your life is, Lilian?" I asked, and she kept quiet.

"Well, look at what I've done for myself: a rich husband who takes care of me." That was it for me; she gave me up at birth, never cared about me, and now that she's doing well, she called me to come here. For what? To show me how poor I am?

Rage surges through me at her vicious words. Without thinking, I pick up my glass of orange juice and hurl it at her, showering her in sticky liquid. "Shut the fuck up!" I scream. "You don't know anything about me, you cunt!"

Lilian gasps, her hand flying to her chest as if I've physically wounded her. "How could you?" she whispers.

My hands clench into fists at my sides as Lilian continues her venomous tirade. But before she can say anything else, a deep voice cuts through the tension.

"Babe, I'll be heading off," the man says from the doorway. "I've got a meeting in the office."

Lilian immediately softens her expression, plastering on a saccharine-sweet smile. "All right, darling. Have a good day."

I don't even pretend to look at the man as he steps into view behind my mom. "Honey, meet Eden," Lilian prompts again.

Our eyes lock, the air crackles, and a jolt of recognition courses through me. It's him, the man who fucked me senseless in the parking lot the other day. His jaw clenches, surprise flickering across his face before he quickly schools his features into a polite mask.

"Eden, it's a pleasure to meet you," he says smoothly, extending a hand.

I hesitate a moment too long before shaking it, my mind racing. What the hell is this? "Uh, yeah, you too," I choke out, struggling to keep my voice steady.

Lilian beams, oblivious. "Isn't he wonderful? So attentive and caring."

Daniel puts an arm around her, drawing her close. "Of course, darling. You know I'm always here for you." His eyes flick back to me, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

I have to get out of here before I do something stupid. "Well, it was great meeting you," I say, already reaching for a bag I knew I wasn't carrying. When i didn't find anything, I smiled. "I've got to run…I have a lot to do."

I barely wait for their responses before rushing out the door, my heart hammering against my ribs. I can't believe this is happening. The random old man I fuck turns out to be married to my mom? What are the fucking odds?

As I drive away, Daniel's smug face flashes in my mind. He knew exactly who I was, and he got off on seeing me squirm. Well, two can play at that game. I may not like Lilian much, but I'm not about to let her new hubby make a fool of me. No, I have a feeling this is going to be one hell of a ride...