Love & Pain

Chapter One

Maisie

“I warned you!” Mila, my best friend, yelled, her voice cutting through the noisy buzz of the bar.

Another tear rolled down my cheeks as I gulped down the beer from my glass. It burned through my throat like fire—but not as much as the ache in my chest. Now matter how much I drank, the pain wouldn’t ease.

My heart had been shattered into irreparable pieces by a man I’d been in love with since high school—a man I would have killed for, a man I would have laid my life down for. Finn was everything to me. He was like air, and I swore I couldn’t live without him.

But now, as the bitter taste of beer coated my tongue, I realized I had already been living without him. I just hadn’t noticed because I was too blinded by love to see the truth.

Seven years. Seven wasted, agonizing years of being in love with a man who never loved me. Seven years of wishing, hoping, and praying for him to see me—the real me., trusting, and caring for a man who saw me as nothing more than a pawn in his twisted little game.

I should have known. I should have realized something was wrong when his manager kept calling him every night.

He had been acting strange for days, and I thought it was just one of his mood swings. I believed he was going through that same phase where he’d pull away, stay distant, and avoid everyone—including me. But I was wrong. This time, it was something more.

The images from the video that was sent to me replayed in my mind, and I broke down in tears, not caring that I was sitting in a crowded bar.

I filled my glass and downed it in one gulp, but it did nothing to ease the stabbing pain in my chest. I grabbed the bottle and pressed it to my lips, gulping the contents without pause.

“Ughh!” I groaned, the alcohol burning its way down my throat.

“You can’t keep drinking like this,” Mila said, her voice softer now, though her hand on mine remained firm. “You need to stop.”

But I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop the pain, the tears, or the relentless replay of Finn’s betrayal in my mind.

The things he said to the bitch… he’d never said that to me, and I hadn’t even realized it until now.

His words rang wild in my head again, and I thought I would go crazy from that. "I can’t even remember the last time I touched her," He’d said, leaning over to kiss her.

And he was right. The last time he’d touched me was over two years ago. At some point, I thought he was avoiding me, that he didn’t want me anymore. But then he proposed, and I convinced myself it was just stress, that he was busy.

But he wasn’t. Finn wasn’t busy with business or projects like he claimed. He was busy screwing another woman. Busy cheating on me.

And me? I was nothing but a miserable pawn in his twisted little game. Why? Why did he have to pull me into this? All I had done was love him. Why would he do this to me?

When he confessed the truth saying, “the only reason I’m with that woman is to push that old man into giving me his properties. If I take you to him, we’ll get caught before we know it. We can’t afford for him to find out about our plans just yet. We’re not there yet. Until we are, I have to keep her close.” My heart shattered completely.

That was his plan all along. And I thought that bastard loved me. I was overjoyed when he proposed, nearly convulsing with happiness when we set our wedding date. It was in two weeks. Two fucking weeks, and now I found out the truth: he’d been cheating on me. I was nothing to him but a pawn in his game. He didn’t love me.

What do I do now?

How didn’t I see this? Pain pulsed relentlessly through my veins as I remembered Mila’s warnings. She tried to make me see that Finn wasn’t who I thought he was, but I was too blinded by love to listen. God, I was foolishly, desperately in love with him.

If I had listened to her sooner, I wouldn’t be here, finding out my fiancé had been cheating on me just fourteen days before our wedding. Or worse, realizing I wasn’t even his main woman—he was cheating on her with me.

“I told you—a man who loves you wouldn’t deprive you of anything, especially not sex. I told you he didn’t want you, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

Mila was right, and it hurt. It hurt so damn much—not just because of Finn’s betrayal, but because of how foolishly and blindly I had committed myself to him. It hurt that I hadn’t listened to her, that I hadn’t taken the chances she gave me to meet other guys, even when she encouraged me during our girls’ nights out.

Hell, I loved Finn so much that I thought even looking another man in the eyes was betrayal. But all the while I was holding onto that belief, he was out there screwing another woman. And me? He left me untouched for two whole years—seven hundred and thirty fucking days without sex, without even a hint of intimacy.

He kissed me like I was a stranger he’d just met. Our dates dwindled from twice a week to once a week, and then once a month. The time we spent together went from seeing each other three times a week to barely once a week.

How was I just realizing this now? How had I not seen all of it, even when the truth had been staring me in the face the entire time?

I grabbed the bottle again, lifting it to my lips with unsteady hands, and gulped it down.

Mila sighed, “Maisie, stop this. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I—I’m already hurt,” I slurred, my words wobbling as much as I was. “What’s a… little more pain, huh? Nothing matters anymore.” I hissed.

Mila leaned closer, whispering. “Maisie, listen to me, I’ve got a better idea”

I waved her off, nearly toppling out of my chair in the process. “Better idea? You got a time machine? Huh? Can you rewind and stop me from falling for that lying bastard?” My voice cracked, and I hiccupped, blinking back fresh tears. Going back in time was the only solution to this heartbreak.

Mila shook her head, a mischievous smirk playing at the edge of her lips. “No, Maisie. I’m talking about…getting laid.”

I stared up at her, my jaw dropping. “G-get… what?”

“You heard me,” Mila said. “Get laid. You’re in a dry spell, Maisie. Two years? Are you kidding me? You’re like a volcano waiting to erupt.”

I let out a high-pitched, humorless laugh, clutching the edge of the table to support myself. “Oh, yeah sure, he…” I hiccupped again, pressing a hand to my chest. “Finn broke me, Mila. You think a quick orgasm with some strange is going to glue me back together?”

She sighed. “Maisie, you’re overdue for fireworks. Don’t underestimate what a good time can do for your mood.”

I shook my head, nearly falling off the stool as I did. “No. No way. I can’t even think about that. Two years… untouched. You hear that? Two fucking years. I don’t even… remember how it feels.”

Mila brought her hand on mine. “Maisie, you’re drunk, and you’re hurting. Just trust me on this. You’ll feel better.”

“I don’t want to feel better,” I muttered, my voice thick with emotion. “I just want to sleep and forget.”

“Then do that,” Mila said. “But I won’t let you go home like this. Let me get you a room, okay? You can rest, scream into a pillow, whatever you need to do.”

I hesitated for a moment. “Fine… whatever. Just get me out of here.”

She nodded and strode away. A few minutes later, she returned, dangling a keycard in front of me. “Room 303, third floor,” she said with a smile.

I reached out and fumbled with the key, clutching it tightly. “Thanks, Mila. You are the best. I’ll… pay you back someday.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said gently, helping me up.

I kicked off my heels and staggered away, heading towards the elevator.

My voice broke as I murmured to myself. “Room 303… third floor. Got it. Just me… and a bed… no Finn. No Finn ever again.”

I stepped out of the elevator and stumbled my way down the hallway until I found the room. With shaky hands, I swiped the card over the door lock—once, twice, three times—but it didn’t work. Frustration boiled in my chest, and my blurry vision wasn’t helping.

“Open up! Damn it!” I yelled, slamming my palm against the door and giving it a weak kick.

My attempt at kicking the door went sideways. My foot missed the door entirely, and I lost my balance, tumbling to the floor in an awkward heap. On my way down, my hand accidentally grazed the door handle, and to my surprise, the door creaked open.

“Fuck,” I hissed under my breath, pushing myself off the ground. I staggered into the room, my heels clattering loudly as I flung them off in frustration.

The king-sized bed sat in the center of the room, plush and inviting, calling to my aching body. I took a wobbly step toward it, arms stretched out to steady myself, but froze when I heard the faint creak of the door behind me and the deep voice yelling at me.

“Who the hell are you?”

I turned around to find a man standing at the door, which I supposed led to the bathroom. His chiseled jawline, sharp cheekbones, and piercing teal green eyes held my gaze, and the way the towel hung low on his hips revealed a physique that looked like it was sculpted by a master artist. He was effortlessly, almost unfairly, gorgeous.

My mind spun with a countless thoughts—who was this man, and why was he in my room? But his gaze rooted me in place, piercing through me as if he could see through every layer of my skin, down to my soul. My knees threatened to give out beneath me as I stared back, my eyes shamelessly drifting from his perfect face to the towel hanging loosely around his waist. Hell, the thought of that towel slipping off flashed through my mind, and I bit down hard on my lip.

“You?” His brows furrowed as he took a step closer. “Maisie?”

He knew my name? How?

Mila’s words echoed in my head almost immediately: What you need is a man to make you forget. Could she have done this? Sent this godlike man here to pull me out of my misery? That could be the only explanation for how this stranger knew my name. Mila was outrageous, but at this moment, maybe she was onto something.

This man… he was exactly the kind of man I used to fantasize about during those two lonely years, untouched by Finn. Except now, the fantasies weren’t just in my head. The tingling heat building between my legs was a real, urgent need, and for the first time, I didn’t want to fight it.

“Ahh, yes, baby… fuck me harder.” The moan jarred me out of my thoughts.

At first, I thought it was my mind playing tricks, Finn’s disgusting video haunting me again. But when the moans echoed louder, I realized they weren’t from my head. My eyes moved around the room, searching for the source, until they landed on the big-screen TV mounted on the wall.

My jaw dropped. A p**n video played, vividly displaying a man settled between a woman’s thighs, devouring her like she was his last meal, worshiping her body with a kind of reverence that made my breath hitch.

Goddamn it. I wished I were her. I wished someone would touch me like that, worship me, make me feel desired and alive.

“Do you need a hand with that?”

His deep voice cut through my thoughts, sending a jolt down my spine. My head snapped back to him, only to realize where my hands were—right on my boobs, squeezing them without even realizing it.

Fuck. Mila was right. I was a volcano, teetering on the edge of eruption, and she’d found me the perfect catalyst to set me off.

“Can you…” I started, then paused, reminding myself that this man was sent by Mila to help me forget that bastard, Finn. I was in control here. I took a shaky step closer, and with each step, the scent of his shampoo grew stronger, intoxicating me. Just that alone was enough to make my panties damp with anticipation.

“Can I what?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he took the final step to close the distance between us.

He was so close now, his eyes locked on mine, his broad chest mere inches away.

“I want you… to.” My voice quivered, betraying my nerves, and I knew I had to get a grip. This wasn’t the time to falter. I straightened my back and pointed toward the TV. “I want you to do the same to me.”

A slow, knowing smile spread across his face. “If you want something, you need to ask for it the right way. Be clear. Tell me exactly what you want and how you want it. Now, what do you want me to do to you?”

I sucked in a deep breath, my mind spinning with the thousand wicked possibilities of what this man could do to me. The heat between us was electric, the tension thick enough to choke on. “I… I want to have you between my legs. I want to feel your tongue on my pussy. I want you to devour me like I’m your favorite meal. I want you to make me cum so many times I lose count. Will you do that for me?”

“Gladly,” he said, his voice sharp and decisive, and before I could blink, his hand was on my waist, pulling me against him. His other hand cupped my face, trailing to the back of my neck as he leaned in. “I’ll eat you out until you can no longer take it!”