Someone Out There Loves You

*Chloe POV*

It was the intense heat that woke me up, or maybe the pounding headache that threatened to crack my skull wide open. Another possibility was the knot of nausea that rested uncomfortably in the lowest pit of my stomach, an instant horrible reminder that I had consumed far too much alcohol the night before. My skin was boiling and sticky with sweat, and I was only vaguely aware of the fact that I was naked. I couldn’t process anything as I lay there, praying for death to come swiftly and relieve me from the agony that I had inflicted upon myself. My mind was blissfully blank and thankfully free from any potential embarrassing memories of the night before. I could only hope that the girls had ensured I hadn’t done anything I would regret. I attempted to open my eyes, but the effort required seemed to exceed the amount my body was willing to use. Other than the headache and mild nausea it wasn’t too unpleasant lying there, letting life and time float by without any effort to do something with it. I spent my work days ensuring that every second of the day was accounted for, and I never let myself be idle. It was the devil's trap; idleness led to laziness, which led to a downward spiral into apathy. That was something I refused to let into my work life. I was too good at what I did to let it be the thing that brought me down. My weekends, though, that was a different matter. I was always more than happy to let them pass me by in a haze of laziness and effortless lounging in the sitting room in front of the large flat screen TV if nothing needed to be done. This weekend was one of those weekends where nobody was demanding my time, and I was free to be left to my own devices. I loved those weekends. They were far and few between, and I cherished them greedily. I really hoped the girls would be out with their respective other halves today so I could suffer my hangover in peace.

A soft groan reached my ears, tired sounding and not at all happy to be awake at whatever hour it was. Two seconds later, I realised that the sigh didn’t come from me. Adrenaline shot through my system, forcing my eyes open and my body shot up straight in fright. On the other side of the bed, a raven haired man was waking up, rubbing a large hand over his eyes. The sheets were laying low across his stomach, exposing his chest. No wonder I had woken up naked and aching. I shut my eyes in concentration, blocking out all light in an effort to force my forgotten memories to come back. Who the hell was this guy? His name was old fashioned, I remembered that…Gerald…something like that. How the hell did we get back here? I had no memories after the first round of cocktails were devoured. Did he approach me, and did I flirt with him? Shit, please tell me he didn’t slip something into my drink. Then again, if he did I’m certain he wouldn’t still be here. What the hell happened to my ‘I’m not having sex with anyone’ dogma I’d been sticking to for so long? I had to give the guy credit for somehow managing to achieve a goal I believed no man would ever conquer. He must have fed me some really good lines. Or maybe drunk me was just desperate to get some that she let her standards drop. Admittedly, underneath the slight ache my body felt a lot more satisfied than it had in a long time. I felt a bit betrayed by drunk me. We were normally on the same page in our anti-man vendetta I had going all these years. I took another look at the man taking up space in my bed, and I was thankful that at least drunk me had the decency to pick a really hot guy to take home. His hair was longish and dark, two of my favourite things in a guy. He seemed to be in pretty good shape too, and I begrudgingly acknowledged a little bit of pride that I somehow managed to pull a guy so hot. That must mean that his deficit lied elsewhere, and I blushed at the sudden curiosity to see how well endowed he was. He opened his eyes the minute the thought flooded my mind, drawing a deeper blush from me. He smiled, and, oh my god, I thought I found the reason why I was so willing to jump into bed with him. I could see his eyes were a beautiful hazel colour, and I was so jealous of them it was unreal. They stood out against his dark eyelashes, which any woman would love to have.

“Morning” he croaked, not at all embarrassed to be in my bed. Unlike me, who was beyond mortified that I was stuck in this situation.

“Hey” My voice sounded sheepish from my state of embarrassment.

He chuckled, and I could tell this guy was an arrogant asshole just from his laugh. He sounded far too self-satisfied, and I remembered exactly why I had swore off guys for so long. He got what he wanted, boosted his ego, and now the best I could hope for was that he would at least be somewhat complementary when he bragged to his friends about getting laid. Any pride I’d felt at drunk me’s choice of men vanished the second I heard that laugh.

“You’re a lot more quiet when you’re sober” he remarked, his smile playful. This guy was far from hungover, and it roused my suspicions immediately.

“Sober is debatable. Hungover is closer to the mark.” I mumbled, wishing this guy would just get up and make his awkward exit already.

“Drinking pitchers of daiquiris can do that” he teased, and I was stunned at how relaxed this guy was. This was one of those situations that should have been awkward and tense as hell, with him dying to flee before I woke up. Instead, he was lying on my bed like it was his, and I wondered where he got his confidence from.

“That’s explains you being here, then” I didn’t bother to sugar coat my annoyance at his continuing presence, especially not if he was going to remind me of just how low I had sunk the previous night. I was pissed that my so called friends let me get myself into such a state. They should have looked after me, but no, instead they let me drink myself into oblivion and jump into bed with the first guy who batted his (amazingly pretty) eyelashes. How could they have let this happen?

“Ouch. The ice queen returns.”

Growing up in a house with three brothers taught me a few things. First, every nice guy has the ability to be a jerk, no matter how well raised he was. Second, always look over your shoulder, especially when you think you’re invincible. Someone will always be out to get you. Third, in a rough house, where people are prone to wailing on each other, without warning, always be willing to retaliate. The third one had been drilled into me, so it was no surprise that my instinct was to react to this guy’s insult by physically lashing out. Of course, he was far more alert than I was, and he had no trouble catching my wrist in a strong grip and pinning me down on the bed before I could defend myself. I scowled at his towering form over me. He didn’t seem angry at me, instead he just grinned down at me.

“You really are a fiery redhead” he giggled.

I didn’t anticipate his next move, which was to lean down and kiss me. I blamed my lack of resistance on the suddenness of his action, not on the fact that he was a damn good kisser. Now that he was on top of me, flush against me, with a case of morning wood, I could feel just how big he was, and it was enough to turn me on straight away. Part of me felt weak for giving in, but he was right there, and since I’d already let myself down the night before, I supposed doing it again wasn’t going to make the situation any worse. So I let him trail a path down my chest with his lips, and I revelled in the attention he paid to my breasts. He didn’t stop there, though; he continued to go lower, down my stomach until he was in between my legs.

“You’re not so mouthy now, are you?” he teased, raising an eyebrow at my now panting and writing form. I was going to make some kind of remark, but his tongue lapping at my clit stopped me in my tracks. This guy, as annoying, arrogant and cocky as he was, was damn good with his tongue. I was a fucking mess of sensation while he worked his tongue in ways I didn’t think were possible. He knew just how much pressure to apply, when to apply it, and when I could take more. If my hearing had been working properly I would have been aware of the fact that I was being way too loud. I couldn’t help it,though; everything this guy was doing was just too damn good. I was pretty certain I whined when he stopped just when I was on the brink of an epic orgasm. He left me cold and frustrated while he leaned over the side of the bed, searching for a condom. It felt like an eternity until he climbed over me again, and he wasted no time entering me with one sharp thrust. I was more than ready for it, though; and, to be honest, I couldn’t do much more than cling to him and let him do whatever it was that he wanted. He didn’t rush the experience, he took his sweet time with me, and I loved every single second of it. I could feel his hot breathe on my neck the entire time, and his moans were the sexiest thing that I had ever heard in my life. I was on fire, and the temperature only rose with every thrust. When I eventually came, it was so intense that I couldn’t even remember my own name. He finished quite quickly after that, groaning before he collapsed on top of me.

I didn’t even try to push him off me after it; I was so drained and relaxed, even a fire breaking out couldn’t have made me move. He eventually rolled off me, taking the condom off and tying the end of it. He dropped in on the floor, and if I was able to form a coherent sentence I would have said something. I was far too relaxed, though, and I realised that the girls were right about how uptight I’d been. We laid there, side by side in silence for a while, until my stomach growled, desperate for some kind of substance. I didn’t know if I should ask him to leave, or ask him if he wanted some breakfast. Honestly, I wasn’t sure which one I wanted. Part of me wanted to know him better, figure him out so that I could at least say that I knew the guy a little.

“ Would you like some breakfast?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Sure.”

He didn’t move a muscle, though.He just stayed there while I got up, and threw a shirt on that I used as a nightdress.

“Do you take coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

He finally threw the duvet off, and I decided to leave him while he got dressed.

I was in the kitchen, measuring the coffee out for the coffee maker when the front door opened and Macy appeared seconds later. She had a wide grin on her face when she came in, her excitement palpable by the way she was bouncing on her feet eagerly.

“So, how was last night after we left?”

I tried to frown, but it didn’t work. Instead a matching grin appeared, and Macy squealed.

“So, how was Gerard? I heard he’s amazing!” The words tumbled from her mouth.

This time, I did frown, confused as fuck.

“What do you mean?”

Her face fell, finally realising that she had said something she shouldn’t have. She had a guilty look on her face, and I immediately sensed something was up.

“Oh ,nothing. Don’t mind me” she tried to fob me off, but there was no way I was going to let it go.

“Macy” I warned.

She bit her lip, and I knew that nothing good would come out of her mouth.

“Don’t be mad, okay? You just needed to have a good time, and we were only trying to help.”

“Just spill it already” I snapped.

“Gerard…he’s a friend of Claire…Andrea’s boss…” She trailed off, hoping she didn’t have to explain it further. I was about to ask her to delve into more detail, unable to see the link. I knew Claire was a nice woman, who was very successful in her career, to the detriment of her personal life. Then it hit me. I had heard Andrea mention a Gerard before.It came back to me now. He was the prostitute that Claire used on a regular basis. My stomach dropped, and my face flushed in anger.

“I don’t fucking believe you! How could you?” I spluttered, so livid that I could barely utter a coherent sentence.

“Chloe, we didn’t mean any harm by it, and you had a good time, didn’t you?” Macy tried to redeem herself, but I was in no mood to hear it.

“You fucking paid a guy to sleep with me! How can you possibly mean anything good by that? No fucking wonder he was interested!” I hissed.

That was when Gerard made his entrance, wearing last night’s clothes. He sensed that something was wrong the minute he saw my face.

“I think you should go” My voice wasn’t much more than a whisper, but I knew he heard me clearly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, clearly confused.

“You did what you were paid for, now you can go.”

His face fell, he knew that I knew now.

“Wait, I wasn’t-“

“Thanks for your service, it was top notch, but you really should leave now” I couldn’t keep the anger out of my voice. I was humiliated and hurt that my friends could sink so low.

Gerard was about to speak again when Macy’s soft voice interrupted him.

“I think you should go” Macy told him, a sympathetic grimace on her face.

Gerard sighed, but he didn’t argue any further. I didn’t watch him turn away and leave; instead I kept my eyes focused on the counter in front of me until I heard the door slam.

“Chloe” Macy pleaded, but I cut her off with a glare.

“Fuck. You. You and Andrea. What kind of friends are you?” I choked out before I abandoned the breakfast I was about to make and ran into the safety of my room, hurling myself onto the bed like a stroppy teenager. I let the tears flow at the realisation that I had been betrayed once again.

Notes

I know what you're thinking. What's this, another update on Lyra's of my stories? Can this be real?

Why yes, it is. I feel inspired recently, and I finally got off my ass and made a chapter plan for all my stories. So I'm hoping that the long promised regular updating shall return now.

Comments and feedback are awesome, and inspire me so much so please take a second to say what's on your mind.

Lyra