I wondered if he would talk this much during sex. He was so much better looking with his mouth shut.
“Anyway,” he said, finishing some story I’d already forgotten, “that’s why I spent last summer in Cannes.” He pronounced Cannes as “cans.”
I suspected Hunter had never been to Cannes, let alone France, or anywhere else in the Mediterranean, from the way he talked about it. He sounded like a guide book, not someone who travelled.
“You want another drink?” Hunter asked.
I held my hand over my glass, “I’m good.” Then, without warning, the wheels in my head started turning. They always did, no matter how much I drank. “Hey, Hunter, how is work going?” The first time he’d taken me out, he’d told me about his modeling for two hours straight.
“Oh, I haven’t done too many gigs lately.”
“Oh? Why?”
“I got in a fight with this guy.”
“Really,” I said, all ears. “What guy?”
“Some guy named Christos Manos. Do you know him?”
“No,” I lied. “What happened?”
“This guy Christos started some shit with me awhile back. So I fought him. I ended up with a broken nose. But you should’ve seen his face when I was finished with him.”
I had. Christos’ face was flawless as always, and I believed his version of events over Hunter’s. “Really?” I gasped. “Did you put him in the hospital or something?”
Hunter chuckled confidently, “Close.”
Such a scam artist. But then, Christos had already told me as much. I said, “Aren’t you worried about getting sued for beating up this Christos guy?”
Hunter frowned, “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, people sue all the time, don’t they?” I hoped I sounded every bit the dumb blonde. I giggled for effect.
“Funny thing is,” Hunter grinned, “I’m suing him.”
“Why? If you put him in the hospital?”
Hunter shook his head, “No, I almost put him in the hospital. It wasn’t that bad.” I could tell he was backpedaling and trying to shore up his lie before it fell apart.
“So, why are you suing him?” I asked innocently.
“Because he started it,” Hunter sneered snidely. I could tell the truth was seeping out around the edges. Hunter was in over his head. He continued, “The guy has a ton of money. He should’ve known better than to start shit with me he can’t finish. He’s lucky I didn’t really put him in the hospital.” Hunter nodded a superior nod.
“What a jerk,” I said ironically. Hunter didn’t suspect I meant he was the jerk. I was still sober enough to realize that I should’ve listened to my instincts about Hunter. He was a total tool. After what Christos had told me tonight, I should’ve told Hunter to walk away the moment he’d walked up to me at the bar. I excused myself on the grounds that I’d been lonely and it had been a moment of weakness. “I feel like going for a walk,” I said randomly.
“Okay,” he said. “You want company?”
“Sure.” I grabbed my purse from the hook under the bar and stood up.
Hunter followed me outside into the night air.
We walked down Cedros Avenue, past all the closed shops and parked cars, until I found an alley. I turned down it. It was dark, dingy, and cloying. Good enough.
I pulled Hunter into the darkness with both hands, grabbing him by the shirt. Once we were far enough from the streetlights on the sidewalk to be completely in shadows, I pulled Hunter into me.
He pushed up against me, grinding me against a rough stuccoed wall.
Perfect.
We kissed. I wasn’t really into it, but I had a reason to be here. We made out for awhile. It didn’t take long for me to get bored. Time to get down to business.
I unbuckled Hunter’s belt.
“Whoa, Tiff,” Hunter purred, “you don’t waste any time.”
I glared at him and fisted his T shirt in my hand. “Don’t call me Tiff. You don’t call me Tiff. Got it?”
“Whatever you say, darling,” he grinned.
I could deal with darling. Whatever. I unbuckled his belt. “You’re still clean?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Hunter said, “I told you that the last time we had sex. I get tested all the time.”
“But that was five months ago.”
Hunter stopped. “Tiffany, look. I get tested regularly and I don’t sleep with any old skank that comes along. I’ve only had sex with two girls since you, and I know them both. They’re clean. Trust me.”
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
“Over with? Do you even want to be here, Tiffany?”
“Yes, I most definitely do.”
Hunter’s amber eyes flashed. “You sure?”
“Yeah.”
He grinned and leaned forward. More wet fish kisses followed. Not that it mattered. We were doing this.
So what if we ended up having sex in a dank, dark alley? So what if I was dry when he stuck it in? So what if I told him to fuck me as hard as he could before I was even into it? So what if my back was raw from him grinding me against the stucco wall behind me? So what if he came inside me?
After everything Christos had told me, Hunter was a total scam artist. A hot and sexy scam artist. But there was no way I was letting him get away with swindling Christos out of hundreds of thousands of dollars.
Hunter wasn’t the only one who knew how to play games.
When we were finished, I said, “I have to go.”
“What? Where are you going? Let me buy you another drink inside. Or we could go back to my place.” He glanced around the dark alley, “Someplace nicer than this.”
I pushed my dress down over my thong, which Hunter had torn apart and was nothing but a waist belt now. Good. I looked over my shoulder at my butt and saw my dress was nice and dirty from rubbing up against the stuccoed wall. “I have to go to the emergency room,” I said, still looking over my shoulder at my dress.
“The emergency room?” he asked, confused. “For your dress?”
“Bye, Hunter.” I started working up some tears. I wanted my mascara running before I got to the hospital. I started toward the lighted sidewalk at the end of the alley.
“Hey,” he grabbed me by the arm and turned me around.
“Ow! Hunter!” I shouted, “That hurts! Let go of me!”
He released my arm, his eyes wide with uncertainty. “What’s wrong with you, Tiffany?”
“I’ve been raped. That’s what’s wrong with me.”
“What?” he gasped. “I didn’t rape you!”
“You didn’t? Because I could swear that’s your semen inside me right now. And when I go get swabbed out at the ER, they’re going to find it.” I turned around so he could see my dirty dress. “And would you look at that? My dress is soiled and scuffed from where you threw me against the wall. And my thong is torn to pieces. Sounds like rape to me. And, boy,” I winced, “was I dry when you put it in. I’m sure they’ll find plenty of abrasions.”
“What?” Fear pulled his face in twenty directions at once. “You’re insane, Tiffany.”
“Am I?”
“You totally wanted it,” he scoffed.
“That’s what the rapists always say.”
“Fuck you, Tiffany.”
“It wasn’t fucking. It was rape.”
He grabbed my arm again.
“Oh!” I jeered, “Are you going to beat me up now? Give me a black eye? Go ahead, Hunter.”
He let go of my arm and scowled at me. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because, Hunter, you’re an asshole. And because you’re trying to sue Christos Manos when all he hurt was your pride.”
His brows curled. “You know Christos?”
“Of course I know Christos, dumbass. And I know he doesn’t start fights. He told me what happened.”
Hunter scowled, “You bitch.” Now he was figuring it out. Not that it made any difference.