Excerpt One
Tabby had had a bad feeling about the Belle, but she’d dismissed it like she always dismissed bad feelings when she was seven drinks in. She’d wandered up to the bar, and instead of finding a decent range of tequilas and limited chemical relief, she found Toby Tennant having a public threesome. Well, almost… He was sitting in a leather booth across from the bar, his arms around two stunning blondes, both of whom were sticking their tongues in his mouth. 

For a second, slower than all the unboiled kettles in the world, Tabby watched them, her heart pumping bile. Running into him after all that time always would have sucked, but he looked so… good. 

Everything about it did. 

It looked like a fashion shoot: Toby in his hot pink and blue shirt, the girls in matching green dresses, and the bottle of vodka in front of them. Tabby’s mind had unwittingly formed an advertising slogan.

‘Chopin Family Reserve; it’ll get you sucked off two at a time!’

She’d watched the three of them writhe around, none of them concerned that banging in public was still very much illegal. She’d wanted to be mistaken. Wanted to be dead. Wanted to believe Toby had set up this sleazy scene just to hurt her because the alternative—that this was just how he lived now—was too painful to comprehend. 

But she didn’t know anything about pain, not yet, because before she could pull her jaw off the floor, Toby disentangled himself from his paramours and looked straight at her.

The memory still had more knives than a butcher shop. Unlike her, Toby’s surprise rapidly morphed into amusement. He’d scanned her body like she was a topless waitress, and Tabby had just stood there, dumbfounded. He’d always been cute, but in the Village Belle Hotel, he’d looked amazing. He’d put on at least ten kilos of muscle, and his fuckboy haircut perfectly showcased his pale blue eyes and killer cheekbones.

Their gaze met—had his lashes always been a foot long?—and he’d smirked. Smirked. Smirked at her like he’d punched her v-ticket. 

She wanted to be disgusted, but a fluttering heat had licked through her like flame, and all she could think about was his weight on her body as he thrust hard and fast. “That feel good, Tabby? You gonna come on it again?” 

 

Excerpt Two
He thought he’d been feeling heat before, but this was a fucking inferno. His blood turned to fire, his cock swelling to the point of pain. He liked topping. Liked being in charge, and while he only wanted Tabby for himself, if she wanted him to play the amoral asshole, he could do that, too.

He poured himself more tequila and then rested the bottle on the carpet. “If I had five minutes left on earth, I’d still use it to try and fuck you.”

She touched a hand to her mouth. “And… if I had a boyfriend?”

Was it the Village Belle that made her think of him this way? Or had this always been a kink of hers? It didn’t really matter. He’d always loved wrestling, so he could play the heel, the fuckboy, and sensed that was what she wanted. A way to flirt while keeping some distance between the people they’d once been. 

He painted the biggest asshole smile he had all over his face. “I don’t care if you’ve got a fucking husband. I’ll fuck you on this couch and send you home to him with my bruises on your ass and my cum dripping out of you.”

A beat longer than any second on earth, as Tabby’s fingers gripped her tumbler like she was hanging on for dear life.

“Does that turn you on?” he said, his voice like gravel. “Ruining some dumb fuck’s life because you’ve got an itch he can’t scratch?”

Tabby quivered like a leaf in the wind. “I… Let’s say it does. I don’t… Would you really…?”

“I think we’ve established I would.” He drained his glass, placed it beside the bottle, and sat back on his couch with his arms spread. “Come here and kiss me. Find out.” 

 

Except Three
“Do you like getting topped in the sack?” she asked Sam at lunch, apropos of nothing.

Her older sister didn’t bat an eyelid. “Depends on the dude, but fuck yeah.”

“You don’t think it’s, like… degrading to women?”

Now Sam batted an eyelid. She batted two. “What the fuck’s going on? You got the same ‘An ye harm none, do what ye will’ speeches from Dad that I did.” 

“Sure, but… what if the guy isn’t, like, kosher?” 

“Who’re you fucking?”

“No one yet,” Tabby said honestly enough. “But the dude’s a douche. Total fucking clown.”

Sam tapped the end of her fork to her chin. “Well… I think anyone who says they wouldn’t bend their morals for hot sex is a liar, so it probably depends on how much of a clown. Ex-con?”

“Nah. Anyway, Noah’s an ex-con.”

“True. Dickhead?”

“Certified.”

But as soon as she said it, Tabby wondered if it was true. Toby was in finance, and he’d been slutting around the Eastern suburbs, but that was hardly a crime. At least not to anyone except her and her stupid, misplaced jealousy.

“Maybe not a total dickhead,” she admitted. “But so not my usual. He’s rich and wears shirts and shit.”

Sam looked intrigued. “Where’d you meet?”

“The apps,” she said without missing a beat. She’d come prepared for that one. Tabby had absolutely zero intention of explaining to Sam that the douchebag twisting her brain into new shapes was the same one who’d given them the dogs running around their tattoo studio.

“You matched with a preppy cunt on the apps?” Sam asked. 

“I didn’t know the levels of preppy when I matched with him. He’s got a kickin’ bod,” she said, both lying and not lying. “I saw the abs and couldn’t help myself.”

Sam laughed. “Hey, we’ve all been there. When I first saw Scott with his shirt off, I was fucking gone.” 

“Vom! Can we focus on me, actually, please?”

“Sure. Well, I think you should go for it.” 

“And if he only wants one thing? Namely a bunch of ‘yes sir, no sir’ stuff?” 

Sam looked like she wanted to laugh.

“Don’t,” Tabby wailed. “This is a fucking serious dilemma. My progressive credentials are on the line here, bitch!”

“Okay, okay, calm your areolas.” Sam stared into the middle distance. “So, you’re worried roleplaying Fifty Shades shit with this dude is gonna encourage him in whatever warped ideas he has about girls or whatever?” 

“Yes,” Tabby said, relieved that her big sister had gotten it. “Exactly that. Because he wants to, like, pay me. Or pretend he’s paying me for sex.” 

“That’s… pretty fuckin’ hot,” Sam admitted. “You’ve never done anything like that before?” 

“Not so cold-bloodedly.” 

“Hmm. Well, again, it comes down to what you can live with. But they’re not gonna come for your socialist card for fucking this guy, Tabs. ‘They’ don’t even exist.”

“But I’ll know.”

“That’s it. If you think you’ll be able to look yourself in the mirror afterwards, then roll tide.” 

Noah opened the door to the staff kitchen, and she and Sam both fell silent. Tabby’s brain was teeming with contradictory thoughts. She still wasn’t sure she should fall any deeper into whatever horny rabbit hole Toby had opened for her, but on the other hand, she’d finished all over his fingers last night, and she could still look herself in the mirror today, if she squinted.