Page 30 of Gilded Fake

I’m wrecked, but my pussy pulses around him, hungry for it, demanding more.

“Suck my cum out with that demon cunt,” he growls, burying his face in my neck. “And say my name while you do it.”

“Colt,” I choke out. “My king, my god. I’m yours. I’m anything you want me to be. Just be mine.”

He pulls out, and I bite my lip to stifle a cry of protest. It’s too soon. I haven’t had enough, not even the beginning of enough.

Ignoring my clinging hands, he lays my naked, shivering body down in the back seat and steps back. Then he stands and looks down at me, taking his time, like he’s memorizing every inch of my body, my new curves that weren’t here the last time he looked at me that way, my wrecked cunt, my bruised thighs.

Finally he speaks. “That’s what you could have had.”

Then he closes my door, leaving me ruined and alone.

seven

Rumor Has It… The false queen who was ousted last year has fallen further than anyone knew. Has she sold her soul or just her body and dignity?

Dixie Powell

I sit in my car staring out through the layer of water cascading over the windshield, making the red glow of the receding taillights swirl like blood in my vision.

I should have stopped him.

I should have run her off the road that day I followed her here.

I should have known.

I did know. I knew something was going on when I followed her and Maverick here that day, even though I didn’t see anything. I thought, what a waste of time. I was sure I’d catch them doing something illegal, only to sit here in this very spot while they went into the local greasy spoon diner, a shitty little hole in the wall that Colt loves for reasons I never understood. But now I know it wasn’t just a date. They actually were doing something shady, something scandalous that I can post on the blog and ruin Gloria.

She’s a stripper. There’s no other explanation, no one else who would dress like that, in next to nothing but those heels that would send me pitching forward on my face if I tried to take two steps in them. There must be a back room at the diner, one where truckers go after their burnt coffee and sloppy eggs. She’s probably a hooker too. I can definitely make her out to be one when I post about it, anyway.

The thought holds no joy tonight, though. I already ruined her, and for what? I won. I beat her. I got the guy and destroyed the competition, and he still wants her. He still fucked her, right in the middle of the parking lot where anyone could see. He’s not even trying to hide it.

How long has it been going on? And before her, were there others? Maybe that’s why Colt loves this place so much. Not for the pancakes and burgers, but for the back-room entertainment, the things he does here when I’m not with him. I try to remember when he started taking me here, but I can’t recall. It all blurs together with the fury churning in my gut. It’s humiliating that he took me here in daylight, and then came back for the whores at night. Even worse is the thought that maybe he was showing me off to someone who would see us together, using his legitimate relationship with a respectable girl to make his secret mistress jealous.

Gloria’s Mustang starts up, the brake lights like evil demon eyes in the darkness. I should follow her, but I can’t make myself turn on the engine. It doesn’t matter anymore where she’s going, what she’s doing. I’ve already seen more than enough.

I wanted the truth, and now I have it, and I wish I didn’t.

I know the next steps, know what wives have been doing to get rid of mistresses since marriage was invented.

But she’s not the only woman who’s wronged me. Before her, there were others.

There’s no way the Dolces would let a literal whore in their circle, which means she started doing this after they gave her the boot. Colt’s been telling me he needs space and disappearing on me for years, since the very start. I shouldn’t be surprised that this is where he was going. If I’d known there was a whorehouse in town, I wouldn’t be. That New Years Eve when Crystal disappeared is burned into my memory forever. He fucked a hooker right beside me that night, like it was nothing out of the ordinary. For him, it wasn’t. So of course he’s been frequenting this place all along.

The only way to stop him is to get rid of his accomplices and then lock him down. Even now, I refuse to lose him. I’ll never forgive him, but I won’t let him go, either. I’ve invested too much, made him my perfect creation the same way the Dolces did Lo. Except they tossed her like the garbage she is when she crossed them. Colt isn’t garbage. He’s a king, and though I may be a queen, he holds the keys to the kingdom. Once I have them, I’ll be able to lock him inside so he never does this again.

Until then, I have to cut him off at the source.

When Gloria’s taillights have disappeared, I open my umbrella above the door and climb out of the Honda. My shoes are soaked the moment I step into the inch of water standing on the concrete lot, accumulating too fast to drain off. I hurry through the rain and throw open the door to the Downtown Diner.

The ugly owner with the twisted scar across her face looks up from the register, where she’s putting in a ticket.

“Help you, baby?” she asks in her sweet, southern drawl.

“I know what you’re doing here,” I snarl, marching up to the counter. “Where are they?”

“Where are…?” she asks, looking all innocent and confused.

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