Mouth agape, I stood in the doorway staring at the man who—until ten seconds previous-- had been my boyfriend. The TV in the bedroom continued to moan and grunt with the unpaused porn video and from where I was standing I could easily see that his dick was still in her ass. SHE was—until ten seconds ago-- my best friend and she had at least had the graciousness to removed her fingers from her own pussy when I'd opened the door...for whatever that was worth.
This was the image that replayed in my brain over and over during the 6 hour flight from my New York apartment to visit my cousin in California. I needed to escape. Coleen would be busy most of the time I was there. Her best friend was getting married and she was, of course, the maid of honor. She had, however, a large apartment near the beach where I could do my best to forget about Captain Ass and his far more Adventurous new lover. Adventurous. Whatever! The man had never done anything but treat me like a slut if I wanted to do anything more "adventurous" than the missionary position. I guess he really needed an actual Slut to feel comfortable enough to do it.
After seeing Coleen's apartment, with a clear view of the beach, I decided that maybe what I needed to do was move to California and start over. I was a model. California was peopled by beautiful people. Hey, maybe I could get into acting. What I did as a model, however, was slightly different than what people typically think. I'm an art nude model. Sometimes for art classes, sometimes for photographers. My 5' 11" lean body with milk white skin and deep red hair was a favorite for good reason. My legs were long and toned from yoga and dance. My breasts were small but just big enough to have a roundness to them and I lacked the sometimes awkward dappling of freckles that many redheads had to contend with. I am well aware of my beauty, which is why I have no problem making money on it as long as nature allows.
"Dahlia," Coleen's voice interrupted my thoughts. Humming softly in acknowledgment I looked up and met my cousin's smile. "Dahlia, tonight is Rhiana's bachelorette party...well, it's actually a weekend—we're going to Las Vegas. Would you like to come with us? I don't think the girls would mind."
"No, these are your friends. You go have fun. I think some alone time would do me good anyway." I smiled at her warmly. It was true. I really needed some peace and quiet to get my head together and I didn't think that a weekend in Las Vegas was going to help me do much more than lose what little money I had and get inordinately drunk. My recently acquired EX had managed to run up my credit cards and use up our joint savings—like I'll EVER do that again.
Coleen hugged me tightly, "okay...but if you need anything you have my number."
"Go. Have fun," I chided.
- - - -
Waking the following morning to a peaceful apartment, for once Coleen wasn't there to be blaring the latest local punk band over her stereo surround system. I spent the morning being lazy. Pajama bottoms slung low about my slim hips and a camisole taut over even my minimal bust, I shuffled from the kitchen toward the veranda with a mug of coffee. The doorbell rang.
I opened the door, without much thought to my appearance, to see one of the most strikingly handsome men I'd ever seen. Tanned, well-built, sun-bleached sandy blonde hair and dazzling green eyes. He flashed a smile as I stood staring at him. "You're not Coleen," he noted.
"Oh...no. No I'm her cousin, Dahlia. Coleen and the bridal party are--"
"In Vegas. Shit. That's right..." the man grimaced a moment. "Damn. I don't suppose she left the number of her friend Georgia laying around did she?"
I shook my head. "I can look, but I don't think so..."
"Well that's a problem."
"Come in...I'll take a look. And maybe I can text her..." I invited him in, trying to ignore the lustful burning in my loins as I strode back into the kitchen. "Coffee?" I offered sliding a clean mug toward him. He smiled and nodded, so I poured him a mug then turned to scour over the notes magnetized to the fridge. "I don't see anything here...what's your name?"
"Oh, right..." he chuckled. "Darren."
I lifted my cell and texted my cousin: Darren is here. Needs Georgia's number.
"We'll see if she answers that. So...how do you know Coleen?" I asked him, seating myself on a stool at the kitchen bar.
Darren flashed me another grin that melted my insides like butter on a skillet. "I'm John's brother..." He paused then seeing my confusion continued slowly until I caught on."...the groom...marrying Rhianna..."
"Oh...oh right...the whole...wedding thing..." I colored feeling like an idiot.
"Yeah...well that's why I'm here. Georgia was supposed to get back to me by yesterday about tonight, and she hasn't. I've lost her number and I don't want to just hire one of those service girls for the Bachelor party...it's always a crap shoot. Half the time they're skanky, the other half they're high on something. This is my brother's big night and I want to have a decent girl there. Georgia is a dancer so she'd supposedly agreed to do a little show but I'm starting to think she's backed out."