Page 11 of Gluttony

Welcome to the fucking party, bitch!

Leaning back in her own chair, she crossed her arms, mimicking his look, knowing he still couldn’t see her. Which was good, because she had a feeling that after this chat…she’d need the anonymity.

You already know this is all going to shit.

She began, “Picture this…you have a large, beautiful cake. This cake is handcrafted perfection, a marvel of culinary decadence, something meant to be given to someone special, someone who will actually appreciate it, someone who will cherish it.”

Confusion etched his features. “Okay….”

She cleared her throat and continued. “One day, you meet that someone special, and you want to give her that cake…the problem is…there are pieces missing, pieces that you cut out and gave to other people, pieces that were meant for someone else but, because you wanted to make all those people happy, to bathe in their praise, to see the look of pleasure on their faces, you gave those pieces away. Piece by piece, the cake is eaten, and finally, when you meet the one that cake was actually meantfor…there’s so little cake left it’s really only smears of icing, not much more than what would fit on a fingertip.”

Something burned in his eyes, something she knew was anger.

Oooh, he was definitely getting what she was saying.

“So, Red…what do you give the special person when there’s nothing left? What is there to offer her when all you have to give is a single smear of icing?”

On the screen, Red cursed, shoving his fingers through his hair again, pushing it off his forehead.

“Val…what the fuck are you talking about?” he ground out.

Shaking her head sadly, she replied, her voice pained, “You know what I’m talking about, Red.” She bit back a bitter curse. “Your icing smear, what’s left after everyone else has had a piece of your cake…isn’t enough for me.”

His expression hardening, he narrowed his eyes at the camera. “Turn on the fucking camera so we can talk about this face to fucking face—better yet, give me your address so I can spank your ass for this shit.”

Spankherass? Forthis shit? Forwhat shit? For finally calling him out onhis shit?

Once again, fuck that, fuck him!

“Did the action stop when you turned off the camera?” she sneered, that welcomed anger sharpening her voice.

“Is this really about fucking cake, Val? You think that because I have a past that you and I can’t have something special? Fuck that, Val!” he snarled back, his bare chest, neck, and face growing red.

“First of all, a past meanspast, as in notyester-fucking-day. Second, answer the question,RedDevilDog. Did you walk them to the door, ordid you fuck them?” she snapped, her stomach roiling, churning, her heart aching, already knowing the answer to the question. It was written all over his face. It was in his eyes.

The guilt.

The rising anger.

Hefeltguilt, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to believe it was his right to do whatever the hell he wanted.

He was single, that’s what he’d say. They weren’t anything, not yet, she was dragging her feet, she was making up excuses, she was pushing him away, she was making him wait….

It was all true.

But there was areason.

This exact reason. She wanted to trust him, but how could she when he continued to show her that he wasn’t worthy of that trust?

I’ll wait for you, my Daisy….

Bull-fucking-shit!

“Come on, Val! You know me, you know I’m a fucking man with fucking needs,” he ground out. And there it was—the manwhore excuse of the goddamn century.“My dick needed some love, so I wasted yours.”Or“I needed to blow off some steam, so I blew up your heart.”

She nodded, knowing he couldn’t see her, then she replied, her voice flat, “True. You have needs.”

He growled, the sound both angry and wounded. “Damn right, I do. You know I want you, that I want this to be serious between us, but I can’t just wait around for you to be ready to step the fuck up. You want to hide behind your screen; you’re too chicken shit to come out of hiding and give me a fucking chance.”

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