Page 2 of Accidentally Perfect
“You just need to get laid. That’s your problem right there.”
“Stella, I love you and all, but you know sex is pretty much the cause of all my problems.”
“Not true, not if you find the right guy. Then, my dear bestie, your problems turn to pleasure.”
“I thought I found that with Brad, then with Michael.”
“Did you really think Michael was anything more than a dick to ride?”
“Well, no.”
Our flight to Vegas landed at dusk. The lights of the strip along with the fire of the sun setting were amazing. I can’t believe I never made it out here before. This is the place I should have spent my twenty-first birthday, not back home in New York. Some say they would rather spend their time in New York than in the heat of Vegas, but I'm not one of those people. Vegas is awesome.
Stella has been on a mission from the moment the plane touched down in the city of sin, and the mission, if I choose to accept it, is to get me drunk and have me forget about my man troubles. The first part has been a success, but unfortunately, I haven’t downed enough alcohol to erase the picture of Michael’s face tongue deep in that whore’s pussy.
“Here, take a sip of this.” Stella passes me a fruity drink.
“Good, but I think I’ll stick with my Long Island Ice Tea. I should have known I would catch him. The skank has been circling around Michael like a vulture on a fresh kill.”
“You know there’s no tea in that right?”
“Yes Stella, I’m well aware. The numbing of my body contests to that fact.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about the Michael thing. At least you found out now and not years down the road. Like last time.” She gives me a knowing wink.
Yes, like last time when I found out that my loving husband had been fucking a fellow teacher. Too many years too late to see what Brad was really made of. The hurt I felt wasn’t because he broke my heart. The love wasn’t really there when it came to Brad. It was hurt because our little family was torn apart because of his actions.
“I know you’re right, Stella.”
“Oh, Lane, look over there.” Changing the subject, she points to the entrance of the club we currently inhabit. It’s a nice, quiet one, not somewhere young chicks walk around with their twats hanging out. I guess you can say it’s an older crowd. “Do you see those two?”
I follow her gaze and immediately see who she’s referring to. How can I not, they’re both large men; dressed in bright colored button up shirts, which are stretched across their wide chests. But the one on the left, the one with caramel colored hair, and tan skin, that's the one that I can’t take my eyes from. “See Lane, you just need the right tools to give you the pleasure you so rightfully deserve.” She shakes her head, blatantly ogling the two men who she has in her sights”. “Lawd, even from here, I can tell either of those men are packing what you need.”
I don’t answer her. There’s no need to. I’m not about to spout off some crap about not noticing the guys or not caring either way when I know Stella can see right through my bullshit. Staying quiet is my only game plan. I watch the two men walk close to us. I’m so thankful that we found a booth close to the bar. They lean onto the bar talking with the female bartender. I can see her lean forward, making her cleavage more prominent. Can a gal with size double D’s, fake I might add, create more cleavage? I swear, if she pushes them together anymore she’ll likely poke an eye out, and I’m not talking about one of hers. “You know I’m right.”
“Ha–what?” I take my eyes from the guys to look at Stella.
“You know I’m right, that all you need is a guy who can give you pleasure and erase all the problems you’ve had in the past.
