“Teach me” I said drunkenly “Teach me how to be a bad girl” “Are you sure about Tiny, there’s a tiny addiction that comes with that” he said, looking at me through the hood of his eyes. “What am I getting addicted to?” I echoed back, trying to keep my focus on his face, and not down his chest and his muscular arms. “Me” *** Cheryl Taylor had just recently divorced her cheating husband and decided to move back to her childhood town. Desperate for a room, she finds one with some weird rules and a roommate who seemed to busy to meet with her – everything comes to a shocking pause when she finds out it’s Aiden Scott – the town’s bad boy, and in fact her high school bully. Aiden Scott is now a made man and a billionaire but he’s stepped on a few toes to get there and now they’re out for his blood and he has to lay low in the town he grew up – the town that only saw him as a good for nothing bastard. He decides to get a roommate to appear normal, he takes the first one he got and only because it’s Cheryl Taylor – the one girl he had harbored a secret crush for years.
View More“Do you know Cheryl – “ my boss, Mr. Thompson pulled me by the arm to the corner, a small glass of tequila latched to his hand like a baby holding a thumb, he had that glassy look in his eyes, the kind where I knew he was drunk and I knew what was coming next.
“Do you know the only way you can keep your job is if you get on your knees and give me a blowjob” he paused, I paused, we stared at each other for a whole minute before he burst into laughter and I echoed with my own awkward laughter – this had better be some sick joke.
“Wouldn’t that be scandalous Mr. Thompson?” I turned to leave, thinking I could easily slip away and speed walk back to my office which was just down the hall but he grabbed my arms again, tighter this time and pulling me towards him, I repulsed. Mr. Thompson was a man a beer gut, protruding out and nearly cutting out some of his buttons, he was balding and smelled like he smoked cigarettes twenty hours of the day.
“I’m serious Cher – “ he pulled harder and I yanked my arm out his hold
“Only my husband calls me that” I said fiercely, using the opportunity to remind him I was a married woman, I even flashed the ring in his face.
“Well your husband doesn’t have to know anything”
“That’s highly inappropriate sir” I said but he had his face drawn to a grimace.
“Then maybe you’re having doubts about your promotion or no about your job in this company” he kept his eyed fixed on me to let me know that he was goddamn serious and I folded my hands across his chest defiantly
“So what? You’re really going to fire me because I refused to suck your dick” I fired and he shrugged
“I don’t see the big deal, everyone’s done it”
I stared at him, wanting nothing more but to drive my fist into his puffy little face till I felt his nose crack and he could look even worse than he did now. Giving him a blowjob wasn't exactly the problem, it was the fact that I had never done it, not even for my husband.
“You know what Mr. Thompson, you can kiss my ass with those perveted looking lips – I quit and you can go to hell for I care. I’m out of here” I lashed out angrily, kicking at the water dispenser that didn’t anything to me but yet it was also guilty in just sitting peacefully while my boss tried to force me to give him a blow job, bloody sick bastard.
I turned around swiftly and headed to my office, I cleared my table in one quick swoop. It wasn’t that good a job anyways but I always enjoyed the retreat and some of my coworkers seemed nice but it didn’t matter, I had been wanting to quit for days and now I just got a good enough reason to quit the job and now focus more on getting pregnant and starting a family.
I picked my bag and headed out to my car, the first thing I did was to call my husband and he picked on the second ring.
“I quit my job, I finally did it” I squealed immediately barely able to contain myself and my racing heart that I could now feel in my throat.
“I quit my job Marty, can you hear me” I said and a quiet grunt came back at me
“Let me call you back Cher” he said and the line went dead. Did he just – it didn’t matter. He was probably busy at work and in a big investors meeting, he was going to call me back.
Marty and I got married straight out of college a year ago and it’s been a blissful romance since then, I moved out of my childhood town on Bradsbury and flew right out to New York to start afresh with Marty and now that I quit my job, we could start a family. We could start trying for a baby, maybe buy a house the one with a backyard and a swing set, get a mortgage and I could get a new job when the child is old enough. I squealed and giggled at the thought – it was all coming together, my life was all coming together.
The quietness of the house hit me as soon as I stepped in, a cold blast of air hit my face and I shivered slightly. A dull headache was beginning to fester at the back of my head, and I kicked off my shoes headed straight to the fridge to get a cold can of beer. I cocked it open and went straight to the bedroom, where I saw Marty’s laptop lying carelessly on the table. That was strange, Marty never left his laptop open, he was always secret about it and at a point I suspected he was cheating but he told me the work files on it were highly confidential and I believed him, honestly I didn’t just have the strength to angle it further. But right now, I had an empty house to myself, a cold can of beer in my hands and an open laptop with all my husband’s company’s confidential files – it was officially party time.
I plopped on his desk chair and turned it on, I didn’t know where but then again there was this interesting looking folder with the title “X files”, I didn’t waste any time, I clicked it open and I regretted it, because immediately I did, my beer dropped from my hands to the floor, it’s content spilling on the carpet.
They were videos, so many videos and not just any videos but sex videos of my husband with other women, my jaw dropped and my heart began to pound. With shaky hands, I clicked on the first video and it was Marty in his office, going down on a woman seated on his table. I couldn’t see his face when it was buried in the cooch of another woman, but it was him alright, I would recognize that long mane of hair anywhere.
Fucking hell!
My throat burned, and I could no longer breathe. He was doing things with other woman, doing things we had never done together, but mostly because I was too uptight to try the raunchy stuff he always suggested, I was far too innocent to do all that.
I shut it off, clicking on the next video and it was Marty again fucking another in a hotel room – I shut the laptop off instantly in anger. I didn't think I could go over the almost 400 videos of my husband having sex with other woman – four hundred different woman – who was this man? Who the bloody hell did I get married to?
“Bastard” I yelled angrily “Lying cheating scumbag of a man”
How the hell did my day end up like this? I quit my job and then I find out my husband has a sex problem.
I have to divorce him.
CHERYL'S POVThe sky hung heavy and gray above me as I drove, casting the entire town in a muted haze. It was the kind of weather that whispered secrets and warned of storms—fitting for the place I was heading. Damon’s house. Or, more accurately, the house Damon bought for me. My grip on the steering wheel tightened as I turned onto the long, winding driveway. The structure loomed into view like a forgotten secret—modern, cold, and elegant. It hadn’t changed. White concrete walls, dark paneling, glass edges that reflected the world but let no one in. It was still as breathtaking and lonely as the man who owned it.I parked and stepped out slowly, gravel crunching underfoot. The keypad beside the tall black door blinked awake as I approached. I didn’t hesitate—my fingers moved by memory, punching in the code he had set using my birthday. There was a soft click, and then the door opened with a sigh, as if the house had been holding its breath all this time.Silence met me inside.Thick
Cheryl’s POVI stared at the phone on my dresser for longer than I should have, the contact name glowing like it knew too much — like it was mocking me.Damon.I didn't even know what I wanted to say. What did you say to a man you shot? To a man you might've killed — who might still be bleeding out in some forgotten room?Still, my fingers moved on their own, like muscle memory. I tapped the call button before I could talk myself out of it. I held my breath as the dial tone started.Once.Twice.Three times.He’s not going to pick up, I told myself. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe—Click.His voice, low and gruff, filled my ears like smoke curling under a door."What a pleasant surprise," he said.I froze. My throat clenched, mouth suddenly dry."...You're okay," I managed. My voice sounded far away, like someone else had spoken for me."For the most part," he said, and I could almost hear the smirk beneath his words. "But my heart is still broken. Wasn’t expecting the woman I’m in
Cheryl’s POVThe morning light streamed through the pale curtains, brushing my room in gold, but it only made the pounding guilt in my head stronger.I sat up slowly, rubbing my arms, feeling the faint bruises of last night's chaos beneath my skin. It was almost absurd how normal everything looked. The smell of bacon frying downstairs, the creak of the old wood floors in my aunt’s house, the chirping of birds outside.But inside me?Nothing felt normal.Every time I closed my eyes, the gunshot echoed in my brain — loud, sharp, deadly. My fingers twitched at the memory, and I recoiled, wrapping my arms around my knees like they could somehow hold me together.I had shot someone.Not just anyone. Damon.I hadn't meant to — God, I hadn't meant to. It was instinct, pure reflex. I had seen the gun pressed to Aiden’s head and I hadn’t thought — I had acted.Like some wild animal, desperate to protect.But the more I thought about it… the more I realized the sinking truth:I wasn’t sure I ha
Cheryl’s POVThe moment I felt his arms wrap around me, I thought everything would be okay. For a single, fleeting second, the chaos quieted. But then I looked down. My eyes found Damon’s body lying limp on the cold, cracked earth, blood blooming beneath him like ink spilled from a broken pen.That’s when it hit me.I had shot someone.I had taken a life. Maybe not completely yet, but I could see the way his chest rose in stuttered breaths, each one weaker than the last. His blood... his blood was on me.I stepped out of Aiden’s embrace like I was in a daze, my body numb, the gun suddenly burning hot in my hands. I dropped it. It clattered to the ground like it had fulfilled its purpose.“We need to call someone,” I breathed. “911. We have to call for help.”Aiden’s voice was firm but low. “We need to get the hell out of here, Cheryl. Now. Before Alejandro realizes what’s happening.”“No!” I snapped, shaking my head. My voice cracked. “No, we can’t just leave him like that. I shot him
Damon’s POVHe always knew it would come to this.The moment he saw Cheryl for the first time — in that slinky red dress at that bar, soft curls falling over her shoulders like poetry in motion — he knew he'd never stand a chance. Not when Aiden was involved. Aiden always got what he wanted, he looked like a guy that got everything he wanted. The girls. The glory. The forgiveness. Even after everything.But not this time.Not anymore.Damon lit a cigarette and took a long drag, leaning against the black Impala parked under the sickly orange glow of a dying streetlamp. The road out here was cracked, half-swallowed by overgrown weeds. The silence of the place clawed at the back of his neck, broken only by the distant echo of a rusted windmill creaking with each breeze.The warehouse ahead of him stood like a tomb — abandoned, graffitied, the scent of oil and mildew bleeding from its rusted frame. It used to be a car assembly plant, once. Now, it was the kind of place nightmares came to
Cheryl’s POVThe room was dimly lit—too dim to tell if the red smears on the floor were wine or something far worse.The air smelled of rusted metal, sweat, and something faintly floral—like someone had tried to mask the decay with cheap perfume, or maybe it was my own perfume turned cheap from the deathliness of this place. A single lightbulb swung lazily from the ceiling above me, casting long, flickering shadows that danced across the concrete walls like ghosts.My hands were still untied and free when my eyes popped again to the strangeness of this place, but they still ached from the pressure of the zip ties. My legs were numb, folded underneath me on the cold stone floor. I didn’t know how long I’d been here—minutes, hours—it all bled together in this silent, chilling purgatory.Until the door opened.It didn’t creak or groan. It glided open smoothly, almost soundlessly, like it had been waiting for this moment. And when I looked up—he was there.The boss - or so I assumed becau
Cheryl’s POVThe first thing I felt was the cold. It seeped through my skin like tiny shards of ice, making it impossible to stay asleep. Then came the pain—an aching throb behind my eyes, the sore sting in my wrists, the bruised thump of my knees. My body felt like it had been tossed like trash into the back of a car.I opened my eyes to darkness. Not complete darkness, but the dim, flickering kind—the kind that hummed from a dying fluorescent bulb overhead.My heart pounded. My breathing stuttered.Where the hell am I?I sat up slowly, the thin mattress beneath me crunching with old springs. My hands were free, but the bruises around my wrists told me they hadn’t always been. I looked around. Four walls. One metal door. No windows. A chair in the corner. A bucket near the wall that made my stomach turn.This was not a misunderstanding.This was not a mistake.I had been kidnapped.My fingers clenched into fists as panic began to crawl up my throat. And then… Aiden. His name crashed
AIDEN'S POVI didn’t touch my food. I mean how could i even bring myself to eat in the situation but I had ordered the pastas already, it would be a shame to let it all go to waste.I couldn’t even bring myself to look at it.The table sat still, mocking me—her untouched wine glass, the roses she didn’t take with her, the memory of her voice echoing in my ears like a haunting."Do you know why I didn’t show up to that party?"God. I could still see the tears in her eyes when she said it. I could still feel her slipping through my fingers like smoke I couldn’t hold onto.She had walked out of that restaurant with her head held high, but I knew the storm she was holding back. Just like I knew I’d caused it.I stood slowly, threw some cash on the table, and stepped out into the night air. The streets were a little quieter now, the golden light of the restaurant casting long shadows across the pavement.That’s when I saw it.Her purse. Her phone.Just lying there. Abandoned.Panic sliced
AIDEN'S POVI’d texted her earlier asking if she wanted to meet for lunch. But this wasn’t going to be just lunch — I was planning a date. A real one. The kind where I’d lay it all out: the truth, my past, my feelings. I was going to tell her everything. Then I was going to tell her I loved her and I wasn't that person anymore.So I dressed like it mattered. A dark navy suit, tailored. The tie she once complimented. I bought a bouquet of red roses — ones that matched the silvery-red dress I’d sent over earlier. It had taken me a solid hour to choose that dress, something that clung just right and shimmered when she moved.The restaurant was tucked into the edge of the waterfront, the kind of place that wore its elegance like an old song — soft jazz playing in the background, golden lighting that kissed the walls, waiters in pressed shirts moving with quiet grace, and tables set with flickering candles and polished silver.I arrived early. Sat by the window with the view of the river g
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