Fiction/New Adult/Betrayal
Worth the Risk — Chapter Twenty
Are you willing to lose it all
The next ten days were filled with drinking, dancing, clubbing, some skiing, or, well, attempting to get Marcus off the bunny slopes, meeting new friends, and lots and lots of sex. So much so, that I was beginning to walk like I rode a horse cross-country.
“Jesus, Chels,” Trista slapped my ass as she walked past me. "You've been gettin your use outta that boy, haven’t you?” She took off the shirt she was wearing, revealing a lacy, black PrimaDonna push-up bra. She threw a sheer blouse over it and finished her evening outfit with a skintight, thigh-high, black miniskirt.
“Uh, yeah, this vaca has been the only time we’ve really had any time alone together.” I turned around so Trista could zip up the back of my red Herve Leger cap-sleeve bandage dress I bought from Saks last week.
“Well, honey,” Trista ran her hand over my ass, “tonight is about to outdo any other night you two have spent together.”
She walked over to the mirror, brushed back her long black hair with her fingers, puckered up, and snapped a selfie of herself.
“Tonight is going to be epic.”
She blew me a kiss and walked out.
An hour later, we were on our way to the club. Trista’s dad had rented out the hottest club south of Aspen, and only the elite were allowed in, which meant celebrities, musicians, and star-worthy models would be in attendance.
We would all be arriving via limo, one that would put all the others to shame. This one was decked out with a bar, hot tub, and sunroof, so we would be able to stand and watch our surroundings go by.
“This is insane.” Marcus leaned over and whispered into my ear. “Is this how you guys party all the time?” His eyes ogled at two of the girls as they stripped down to the waist and stood on the step stool to wave to everyone as we drove past.
Hopefully, no small children were out or else they would receive an instant lesson in anatomy.
I took a glass of champagne off the tray being handed around and gave one to Marcus as well. “Nope, not back in our neck of the woods. This is all Trista and her crew. “
Amber and I would never party like this or as much as they do.”
“Okay, guys, we are almost there,” Trista yelled out to everyone.
The two girls exposing themselves sat back down, and we all listened to what she had to say.
“There are going to be tons of people trying to enter. We have exclusive rights so we can bypass the crowd.” Trista took another shot of whatever she was drinking. “Paparazzi will be there, don’t talk to them. There will be celebrities, like, I don’t know who, but I heard like some of those young guys from the last hit movie accepted the invite.” She looked and pointed at the two beauties, who were pulling up the tops of their dresses. “Don’t fuck them. Don’t bring them back to my house. Don’t do anything that will get you on the cover of some magazine as their one-night stand.”
Both girls nodded they understood the rules.
“Why is she so strict with those two?” Marcus was back to whispering again.
Up until two days ago, I had no clue who the two beauties were, and then Trista dropped the bomb on me.
“They’re her younger sisters. I think they are like fifteen and sixteen.”
Marcus’s jaw almost hit the floor of the car. He did a double take on the girls and me. “Are you fucking kidding?”
I shook my head I wasn’t. “I know, right, they look like they’re in their mid-twenties or something.”
Which they did with all their plastic surgery, lip enhancers, and barely-there clothing, which flaunted all their worldly goods.
“Fuck,” Marcus shook his head. “My mama, grandma, aunts, and the whole church congregation would be kicking my sister’s asses if they ever wore revealing clothes at their age.”
“Yeah, well, their mom and dad aren’t around much. Either at work or jet-setting around the world on some much-needed alone time together.” I kept my voice low so no one would hear our conversation. The last thing I needed was for Trista or her sisters to go all freaked out because we were talking about their family and then report back to mine about the extra guest I brought along.
The limo stopped, and everyone gathered what we needed for the club. I decided to leave everything inside the vehicle since we would be automatically escorted inside.
No IDs were required, and all drinks were already paid. Not having my purse would eliminate having to worry about losing it.
The driver opened the door, and we all single-filed out to the awaiting masses. Literally, there were so many people standing in line that it went around the side of the building.
Like Trista said, photographers began to snap pictures, and some people held out microphones hoping to get the scoop on what was going on tonight.
I whispered to Marcus to keep his head down like I was doing. I didn’t need any of this sudden thrust into stardom getting back to my parents, and they would see I had Marcus on my arm.
We got pushed past security by the bouncers who led us from the limo to the entrance, always staying out of reach of the line-goers who wanted to touch us, even though they had no clue who we were.
I guess just arriving in a decked-out limo, having security usher us in, and the ‘Razzi’ snapping pictures made us appear more important than we were.
The vibrating boom and rattling of the chandeliers from the bass of the music playing got me ready for a night of dancing and romancing. This was my element, give me music and room to dance and I was one happy, content person.
Trista led us all to the VIP room, where everything we could ever want to drink and eat was being provided.
Marcus wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close. “This beats out the War Room.” He made mention of the bar we went to back in his hometown a few months ago. The first place we kissed, the first place I realized this was so much more than a senior fling.
The crowd bounced around to the beat of the music as white lights flashed about, almost enough to make me nauseated. This place was crazier than the clubs Amber used to drag me to.
A couple of guys that were in the last big blockbuster movie walked past us with girls in dresses that had more holes than material covering their ballooned boobs and asses. Marcus’s eyes followed them until I elbowed him in the side.
“Aren’t those the guys from the movie we went to see?” He covered up the fact that he was checking out the beautiful models.
I snickered and shook my head. I couldn’t let his one bout of roaming eyes ruin a good night. Even I was impressed as they moved toward Trista, whispered in her ear, and then walked away. I had to give the girl credit for keeping some outstanding company.
Marcus plucked up two of the shot glasses being passed around on the tray and handed one to me. He looked at it quizzically, like he had no clue what it was.
I pinched my nose close, tossed back my head, and let the clear fluid flow down my throat. I had no idea what it was I just drank. It burned like fuck, and I wanted to spit it all back out, but I held back a cough trying to force its way out.
Marcus rubbed my back. “Jesus, Chels, are you gonna live?" His eyes kept scouting over me making sure I wasn’t going to be sick.
I held up my thumb. “I’m good. Drink up, baby, this is our last night of being alone.” I felt the effects of whatever it was I drank quickly catch up to me.
Marcus tossed back the shot, and his fingers dug into me as the liquid worked its way down his throat. Beads of sweat had already started to form along his hairline. “Holy, fuck.”
Like she was a magical princess, Trista suddenly appeared right in front of us. She snuggled up close to Marcus and me, making sure her hands roamed both our bodies.
“I like. My girl, Chelsey, and her boy-toy playing so nicely.” Trista picked up another shot off the tray and held it to my lips. “C’mon, Chels, down one for me.”
I couldn’t see straight as it was, I didn’t think I needed another of whatever was in the glass, but my lips opened slightly so Trista could let the alcohol slide down smoothly.
Before I closed my mouth and swallowed, Trista placed her lips on mine and deeply kissed me. A hard, round pill was pushed into my mouth and I didn’t have time to react before it slid down my throat with the shot.
Trista backed up and had a satisfied grin on her face. She caressed my cheek and ran her finger over my lips. “You will feel so much better in about an hour.” She turned towards Marcus, who had a glazed look in his eye as he just witnessed me and Trista share a sensual kiss.
“What the…” Those were the only words Marcus got out before Trista did the same thing to him she’d done to me.
I couldn’t tell if I was more pissed off or turned on by the fact that my boyfriend was in a tongue kiss with one of my best friends.
Their kiss lasted a bit longer than mine and Trista’s, and the more it was drawn out, the hotter and more excited I became.
After what seemed like an eternity of watching them grope and tongue one another, I pulled Trista away from Marcus and picked up where she’d stopped.
Marcus tasted so good, like a mix of strong whiskey and a hint of cherry, it must’ve been whatever lipstick Trista had put on.
There was a sense of urgency in Marcus’s kiss as if he couldn’t get enough of me. His hands were in my hair as he pulled our bodies close together, every inch of him was hard. I wanted him now, right here, the burning fire raging inside of me needed to be put out.
Marcus managed to force his lips away from mine, his breathing was heavy, and coming in short pants.
“Let’s go back to the limo.” He kept placing soft kisses on the sides of my head, and we both tried to regain control.
"Uh-huh." Trista stepped in between us, taking one of each of our hands. “Party time.” She began walking to the dance floor with Marcus and me in tow.
The dance floor seemed to be vibrating as people jumped around to the beat of the music. The flashing lights made it seem as if everyone was moving in slow motion. This type of atmosphere was an epileptic’s worst nightmare.
I almost lost my balance when someone smacked into me, but Marcus held me close so I wouldn’t fall. We started to sway and bounce around like everyone else.
We laughed, we sang, and we stripped down to our barest of clothes.
IT WAS FUCKING EXHILARATING!
Two hours and many more shots later, Marcus and I made our way back to the VIP lounge. I saw Trista’s younger sisters and they looked to be doing the nasty in the corner with those pop singers we’d seen earlier. I couldn’t keep my eyes off them. They looked so...
FREE.
I wanted that feeling.
I wanted Marcus inside of me while everyone watched.
I wanted…
Lips and hands were on me. I couldn’t help but respond as I was forced back into the darkened abyss.
My hips bucked at the first initial contact. A hand was under my skirt, fingers moved past my thong and skimmed across my most private of places.
I gripped Marcus’s shirt in a tight ball and pulled him closer to me.
“I want this now.”
No more words were needed as his hands left me for a brief second as he worked his pants down past his hips. Then, they were back to my hips, guiding me through the motion.
“That was so fucking hot." Trista licked my neck and whispered in my ear. She tugged my arm hard enough that I was pulled from Marcus’s lap.
A hand went around my waist and lips were on my mouth. I was pressed close to a body that was rock solid and smelled like Marcus.
How did he get up so quickly?
I was pushed against the wall and hands went under my ass to lift me. My legs wrapped around his waist and for the second time in less than a minute, I was riding in the throes of desire.
Lips found mine once again. Open, searching.
A small round object floated around in my mouth, a tongue pushed it back, wanting me to swallow.
How could I not?
My eyes flickered open and…
What?
Was that possible?
My eyes must be playing tricks on me.
It looked like Marcus was still sitting on the chair, and Trista was on top of his lap.
They were doing the same thing as I was…
But if he’s there, and I’m here, who was I with?
“Oh, baby, you are fucking fine.” As soon as he was done, he backed away. It was the guy Trista had brought to the party. I think his name was Liam or something like that. Another girl took his hand and led him away.
I pulled my dress down and walked over to Marcus and Trista.
Does he recognize Trista isn’t me?
They were both in a deep kiss, along with other body parts being stuck together when I tapped her on the shoulder.
Trista looked back at me with glassy eyes. “Mmm, this is nice.” She rocked against Marcus and let out a low moan.
“What are you doing?”
Why were we both fucking around with other people?
Marcus’s eyes flickered open, closed, then open again.
He was out of it.
Like fucking wasted.
“Let’s dance.” Trista’s younger sisters took each of my hands and led me out of the VIP room.
The dance floor was alive once again, and I wanted to fly. This night was so happening. I spread my wings and let the music take me away.
Ugh.
I couldn’t move.
I felt like shit.
And I had to catch a plane today for home.
“Time to wakey, wakey.” Trista’s voice rang through the air causing my head to throb a hundred times harder.
I put my hands over my ears and hoped death would come soon.
“Chels, you need to get up.” A toe nudged into my side.
Where the fuck was I?
I squinted my eyes open and had to look upwards to see Trista standing there with a huge grin on her face. I must be on the floor, but how?
We were at the club…
We were at the club…
Okay, after that it sorta went blank.
Think Chelsey, what the fuck happened?
I tried to move, but an arm and leg were thrown over me. Marcus was on one side, and Liam was on the other.
Liam.
Liam.
Oh shit, memories started to roll in.
‘Me and Marcus on the chair.
Liam and me against the wall.
Trista and Marcus on the chair.
Fuck! What did I do last night?’
“I’m up.” I wiggled out from each of the guys and stood.
Whoa, now I was dizzy.
“Here.”
A cup of orange juice was shoved into my hand.
“Drink. It will have a weird taste, but it will wake you the fuck up.” Trista kicked at the guys who were still passed out. “C’mon guys, we have to be outta here today.”
I gulped down the drink Trista had given me and nearly threw up in my mouth. It was orange juice, but I had no clue what else was mixed in with it.
“Tris, what was in that?”
A smirk played across her lips. “You don’t want to know. A trick I learned in France.”
“Hey, can I talk to you a sec,” I called Trista over to the other side of the room.
“What’s up?” She spoke to me, but her eyes were on the half-naked guys finally staggering to a standing position.
“Last night. Um…”
Now Trista’s attention was back on me. “No worries, Chels it happens all the time. We’re all clean. Everyone gets tested every month.” It was like she’d read my mind.
“What was that stuff Marcus and I had?”
I remembered she gave us some sort of drug. I never got totally wasted on alcohol.
“Nothing major. It was a couple of beans, happy pills, molly, ecstasy, whatever you want to call it.”
“Baby, I need something,” Liam called out for Trista from the bathroom.
“Be right back.”Trista grabbed another OJ drink off the counter and walked down the hall.
Okay, Trista might’ve clarified a few things for me about last night, BUT I still had another concern.
Um, like pregnancy.
I don’t think any of the times I had sex with Marcus, and I’m assuming Liam, any protection was used.
Oh my, God. I never wanted to do this again. I was such a…
Yep, slut would be the right word.
How could I ever face Marcus?
“Hey, what’s up?” Trista came into my and Marcus’s bedroom.
“Um,” my mind was at a blank. “Does this shit happen all the time? You know, like…”
“Foursomes, fivesomes, orgies?” Trista knew what I was referencing.
I nodded.
“What happens on the slopes, stays on the slopes. No biggies. Chels. Gotta live a little.”
“You guys are all clean and whatnot, but what about getting pregnant?”
Trista smiled. “That’s easy.” She rummaged through the Gucci bag she was carrying and pulled out a pill container.
“I’m good. No more for me.”
Hell, no I wasn’t doing any more of Trista’s happy pills.
“Here,” Trista held out her hand with a small white pill in the center.
“No way. I can’t go back home all fucked up.”
Trista chuckled. “It’s okay, Chels. This is a morning-after pill, a good riddance to any potential pregnancy before it happens.”
I didn’t want to take any more drugs, but I couldn’t go back and find out I was pregnant either.
Could you imagine my parents?
Holy, fuck, I would be disowned by the whole community.
My hand slowly ventured toward my mouth as I contemplated my choices. I knew this was for the best. I placed the tablet on the tip of my tongue, said a silent prayer, and then tossed it back in hopes I would be forgiven for all my actions.
“What the fuck, Chelsey?”
Marcus must’ve been standing in the doorway when I popped the pill. He didn’t look too happy with whatever he witnessed or heard.
“I…”
Trista grabbed him by the wrist before he made any closer to me. “Chill out, Marcus. It was an after-morning pill. No one wants babies now, that would ruin all your good times.” She let go of his arm and left us alone.
Marcus glanced over my way. He had an expression I couldn’t read.
Anger?
Sadness?
Humiliation?
Wait, that was everything I was experiencing.
“You couldn’t consult me on it? You took everything into your own hands. What if I didn’t care if you got pregnant? Don’t I have a say in any of it?”
“I… I’m sorry.”
I was. I was sorry for everything that went on last night, fuck. I was sorry about my entire life he got dragged into.
“After last night,” I rubbed my hands over my face trying to see if I could wipe away the images that kept popping up.
Me and Marcus.
Me and Liam.
Fuck, somewhere I knew there was me and Trista.
“I can’t be sure of everything that happened last night. Can you?” Maybe he remembered more than I did.
Marcus closed his eyes as he tried to recall the events that occurred, but he looked about as clueless as I did on the matter.
“It was for the better.”
He had to understand this was the right decision.
Marcus’s eyes barely opened, and for the first time, I thought I saw tears in his eyes.
“Marcus, your limo is here,” Trista called out from the landing below.
“We’ll talk at home.” Marcus turned and walked out without a hug or kiss goodbye.
I sat down on the bed and put a pillow over my face. Our wonderful vacation together just turned sour all because of one night.
What the fuck did I do and how could I make this all up to him?
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