Everyone is already talking about Ailee being the boss. I don’t need them adding her having favorites to their bitch list, because I know she won’t shit on me for anything.
Salvestre pulls up at exactly six. He’s the most punctual person I have ever met. He is never late or early for anything. It’s annoying because I’m perpetually late.
He gets out of the car and opens the door for me. He’s like that. He is old and has old school manners to go with his gray hair and suave dress sense. Even in a t-shirt the man looks like he stepped out of the fashion magazines we keep at the salon.
He smells like money and the elite, all Gucci shoes and designer suits. He is different to everyone in my world. I know he is married. I’ve even seen his wife, but they don’t fuck, I don’t even think they talk to each other.
Apparently it’s complicated and he says his family doesn’t believe in divorce, so he can do whatever he likes and she does what she likes.
With one exception – Sunday’s.
On Sunday they go to church and have family lunch. It’s an unbreakable tradition, and he even turns his phone off on Sundays. Once a week he doesn’t exist for me and I remain his dirty little secret. The rest of the week he’s not concerned who sees us or who knows.
He flaunts our affair, spends money on me, takes me places and shows me off to his work colleagues like I am a prize he won. They all have young women with them. I know it’s a competition, I also know I can’t compete with them. I am from the trashy side of town and cut hair for a living, while they have theirs done. I don’t get on with the others, I don’t even try.
Putting on my very best fake smile, I slide into the car. It smells of new leather and his signature cologne. The sleek black car only has two seats and sounds like a rabid animal when it starts. The vibration through my body as it roars to life feels delightfully naughty, and I smile. I’m sure he does it on purpose just to get me all worked up.
“Where are we going?” I ask, placing my hand on his thigh.
“Dinner and then the hotel, since you don’t want to stay at my house.”
He sounds butt hurt over that, but I do not want to run into his kids or wife. Fucking him at his house feels decidedly wrong … well, more wrong. This whole thing is wrong. “It just isn’t right going to your home, Sal.” His frown is deeper than normal. He’s the dark brooding type, but tonight he seems angry. “But, if you really want to, we can.”
Something about him makes me feel uneasy. He is off a little. Fear dances in my stomach.
“I don’t know what you are so afraid of, Chelsey. My wife knows we are fucking, my son doesn’t care who I’m fucking, and hotels are costing a fortune.”
Shit, he sounds really angry. My stomach turns and I feel a little car sick. Swallowing, I turn the vents so the AC is blowing directly onto me.
“This isn’t the first time I’m doing this. You know that, Chelsey. You know I have been fucking around for years, you knew from day one I had a wife, so why do you suddenly care so much?”
I don’t like this side of him, but I can’t afford to leave Sal right now. Not yet. I just need to get to the end of the school year and then I can do what I want.
“Do I not treat you well? Spoil you? Fuck you better than any man ever has?” he asks.
He does all those things and more. “You do. I’m sorry, Sal.” I squeeze his leg and try to put the fear out of my mind.
He grabs my hand and clenches it hard. “Just remember what I can do to you, how I can make you feel, who you belong to. Stop thinking so hard, you are too pretty to think so much.”
I don't know what to think anymore. I like the way he makes me feel – I just want to feel.
“Can we skip dinner? Order in?” I look at him, lick my lip and flutter my eyes, so he knows exactly what I am saying.
“No, we are going to dinner. Just us.”
Oh, thank God, I could not do cat fight central tonight.
“I promise you won’t be disappointed, my little Bunny.”
He uses the nickname that turns my brain to mush and makes me so horny that I forget anything else but him. The first night he cornered me in the club restroom he called me a frightened little bunny and shoved me into a stall. ‘Bunny’ stuck, and so did the mind blowing sex.
He moves my hand up and places it on his crotch. His cock is hard beneath the soft fabric of his suit and his intention is absolutely clear. He doesn’t want me to think about things, or argue about what’s right.
No, I am here to be wrong, and make it feel good while I’m at it.
Two
Honey Blond
SALVI
My dad is home; his car is in the drive. He’s not been home in ages – he has some new blow up doll to fuck. I don’t give a shit, to be honest. When he has a girlfriend then he’s not here to be mad at me, or yell about my mother’s toy boy.
I have the most dysfunctional, fucked up family ever. It’s a miracle I’ve survived this long. Thank fuck I don’t have any siblings. The odds of two kids surviving my parents are slim.
Thankfully I have an enormous extended family and didn’t have to rely on either parent to raise me.
I consider turning around and going to spend the night at a friend’s place or at one of my cousins, but I just want to get into my own bed and sleep. I work for my uncle and he’s a slave driver; we have not had a night off in a week and I’m exhausted.
As long as Dad doesn’t see me I should be fine, besides, I don’t think I have done anything to anger the beast.
I park in my spot on the side of the house and grab my wallet and phone from the glove box before I walk around to the back door. There’s less chance I will run into him from here. I can sneak straight up to my room. My clothes smell of smoke and sweat, and I cannot fucking wait to get into the shower and wash this week off.
Grabbing a bottle of vodka on my way through the kitchen I move upstairs as quietly as I can. I might need it if Dad is still up, but I’m hoping he’s passed out drunk somewhere.
I know mother has gone on a ladies trip to some resort spa and won’t be back ’til Saturday night; she texted me to say she’d be gone. This is more than she usually does, so I was surprised.
There is no sign of my father. His bedroom door is open and he isn’t in it, so I make it all the way to my room and shut the door – thank fuck. I wonder in what shadow he is lurking; he’s probably downstairs in the bar getting plastered, or is already passed out. I’m not going looking for him.
Stripping out of my work clothes, I turn the water on and wait for my bathroom to steam up before I get in and just let it soak everything away.
My cousin has been a dick all week, treating us like shit and persecuting us. Since his wife magically reappeared out of thin air he’s an even bigger asshole. He’s around more and not out following her like a crazy person as he used to, which sucks for those of us accustomed to slacking a little.
The man is obviously unhinged. On Monday, I had to clean brains off his spare room walls after he shot some fucker. Some idiot called Trent or something. It’s not the first time I have had to clean up that type of mess, but it’s the first time he’s ever lost his shit and I have had to clean up after him. Usually he’s quiet – too quiet, he doesn’t talk or do anything – but this week he’s gone fucking crazy.