I am Denise Ann Roberts. Strong, proud, and independent. A loyal friend, godmother, and I radiate fucking happiness so that people will never see how lonely I really am.
Funny thing about these masks that people put on. I look like the happiest woman in the world. I look like I have everything that I want out of life. That everything is perfect. And that is exactly what I want people to see. But, inside? Inside, I’m dying. I’m not happy. I have amazing friends, and I know that they love me, but I am completely alone. Just like I have been my whole life, and the best part, the big kicker in my ass . . . I only have myself to blame.
Why? Because I have pushed the one man that I love away from me, and I keep pushing, even when he keeps coming back for more. I’ve found the one man out of millions that might be able to prove me wrong. That might be able to love me back unconditionally and never change.
And every single day that I have to pretend to be okay, to be happy, it’s slowly killing me.
Three Years Earlier
Two long years and finally, finally, Izzy is living. Her beautiful smile is plastered all over her face, and that twinkle is back in her eyes. Nothing but worry has consumed me since that day she called me to come get her from Brandon. To come save her.
I had slowly watched her leave me. No, not in the sense that she wasn’t my friend, but she was stolen from me. I watched her become the me that I used to be. A shell of my former self, afraid to move because of the people that tugged the strings to my life.
The last couple of days haven’t been pretty. Between that bastard ex-husband sending Izzy a twisted package, and her almost shutting down, I’ve been so worried that she would revert back into the depression that she has been slowly waking up from.
When she opened that package and I saw the panic and fear take over, I didn’t know what to do or how to help. The first thing I did was call Greg, the best ‘big brother’ that a girl could ever dream for. He’s been right there with me, every step of the way, making sure that Izzy’s okay and that we’re both safe. Whatever Greg did earlier seems to be the wakeup call that she needed. Or maybe it’s just the reminder he gave her that she wasn’t allowed to check out.
Whatever the reason, here we are at Club Carnal, celebrating my best friend’s thirtieth birthday and the anniversary of what is arguably the worst date in her life.
Even with all the unknown and lingering fear in her life, my girl is happy, and we are living life tonight. And, enjoying every damn second as if it is our last.
*
Damn I’m horny.
I’ve been eyeing the hot bartender for the last fifteen minutes. I had decided earlier on today that I would finally end this damn dry spell tonight, and he seems like a decent choice for a quick, one-night stand. Lord knows, I need a little action tonight or my vagina might just run off and join the circus. I snort at the thought and gear up to hopefully secure my orgasm for the night, one that doesn’t require batteries.
Right when I get ready to open my mouth and invite him for a night of fun, I hear the most delicious voice come from behind me. A deep, southern drawl that can be heard over the pounding beat of the music, wraps around me like a warm blanket of sin, and my poor neglected vagina perks right up and says ‘hey . . . me, pick me’!
I quickly close my mouth, and shift on my stool so that I can turn and face him. Oh. My. God. He has got to be the most attractive man I have ever seen. He looks like a walking ad for pure, raw sex. The kind of sex that stays with you for days, even months afterwards because it was that good. It looks as if someone has taken every panty-melting feature you could dream up, and stuck them on his legs. And damn, what legs those are.
He towers over Izzy, which really isn’t that hard to do, but he towers over me, too, and that is hard. It’s difficult to tell from my perch on the bar stool, but I’m guessing he’s got at least six inches on my five-foot-eight. My fingers itch to run themselves through his messy brown hair. Like a movie reel, I can almost see it playing out, him between my thighs as I pull him closer to my center, holding on to his hair, and riding the wave. I have to clench my legs together at the thought of his thick lips licking and sucking against my core.
I quickly shake myself out of my lust-induced fog, hoping that no one noticed that I almost came on the spot just from looking at this stranger. I would’ve gotten away with it, but when I shift on my seat, and my throbbing clit rubs against my dress, his eyes snap my way, and I blurt the first thing that comes to my mind.
“Who in the hot hunk of sex are you?” I might have been mortified if it hadn’t been for the warm smile that instantly took his face from ruggedly handsome to drop dead, pussy quivering sexy.
He walks around Izzy, who is looking at me with a big drunken smile, and steps right into my space.