Don't Talk About Mickey

09 - The Deed

 Carly's POV

The sound of a painfully loud beeping woke me out of my deep sleep. I flickered my eyes open to see the unfamiliar alarm clock blinking in front of me. Seven A.M.

Shit.

Stretching my arm out as far as it would go, I slapped my hand on top of the annoying black box, successfully hitting the snooze button. I turned over to see Mickey lying next to me on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow. Nudging him on the arm, he jerked up and mumbled something indecipherable, only to plop his face back down again.

I rolled my eyes and pushed the covers from my body, noticing that he'd put one of his oversized shirts on me. As soon as I finally drove myself off of his bed, I got the feeling of aching and soreness in between my legs. I felt bruised.

It had only hurt a little last night, but Mickey had been so gentle and perfect. Just the way he kissed me on the lips, on the neck, and on the... I grinned at the thought of all the things he did to me.

"Where are you going?" his tired voice shook me out of my stupor.

I whipped my head around and found him crawling towards me with a sly grin on his whiskered face.  

"Get back in this bed," he playfully demanded, wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulled me on top of him and began tugging at my shirt.

"I wasn't supposed to stay here all night," I said, avoiding his lips. "I'm probably in a lot of trouble." I tried crawling off of him, but he just pulled me closer.

"Was it worth it?" he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. His hand slid up my stomach and squeezed my right breast, which was still sore from his hungry mouth. I felt heat flushing through my cheeks as he reminded me of everything he did last night.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said, kissing the fragile skin of my neck.

As much as it felt good to have his lips on me for a little bit longer, I knew my mother had probably blown up my phone all night long, and I wasn't making it any better by staying. I lightly tugged myself out of his grasp and crawled off of him.

I found my clothes and purse on the floor, immediately checking my phone to see if my mom had called. Surprisingly, she hadn't. But Sam did.

After pressing the 'exit' button, I noticed the wad of cash inside my purse. It felt awkward knowing I was about to give it to him for his 'services.' That's when it kind of kicked in. I'd slept with a guy who probably had sex with tons of girls that looked exactly like me. It was his job to make me feel special, which he succeeded at. But by the end of it all, I'd snapped back to reality, knowing I was just a hard night's work—literally.

I took the money out and threw it next to Mickey on the bed. He took one look at it and then looked at me. "This is a little much."

I shrugged my shoulders and started put on my clothes. "Don't worry about it."

He fanned the money in his hand, counting it out to himself. After adding it up three different times, he let out a sigh. "Are you sure?"

I nodded my head before fastening the button on my shorts. "As long as you tell me why you changed your mind."

The corner of his mouth curled into a half-smile as he waved the money around. I shot him a scolding look. We both knew that was why he'd changed his mind, but there was something else I'd wondered about.

"What I meant was, what happened to the cops?"

"Well, I thought it was the cops," he answered as he slapped a rubber band around the folded cash and placed it in the drawer of his bedside table. "But then I realized it was just your boyfriend following us."

"My boyfriend?" I almost choked on the word.

"Uh, driver. Blonde guy." Mickey gestured towards his hair, even though he was a brunette.

"Sam?" I shook my head and snorted. "No way. Sam's not my boyfriend."

"He sure acts like it."

"I don't think so."

"You're kidding me, right?" he asked confusedly. "Do you not see the way that he looks at you?"

I didn't know what to say, or how to handle that. There wasn't a chance in hell that Sam was into me. He had beautiful, perfect Fiona, and I was just a plain Charlotte Jenkins.

"Are you sure it wasn't the cops that followed us?" I asked.

"Positive."

I was a little shocked, but Sam had always been overprotective of me for as long as we'd known each other. That didn't mean he had feelings for me...did it?

The thought of it made my head want to explode. "I think I should go home."

"Okay." Mickey slid to the edge of the bed and stood in front of me, giving me a soft peck on the lips. "Just know you can call me any time you need me."

I faintly smiled at him, knowing that I wouldn't take the offer. Even though I'd broken the promise I made to Sam, I wouldn't break the one I'd made to myself. This was only going to be a one-time thing.

 "I will," I said. "If I need you."

After calling a cab and thanking him for the long night, I left Mickey in his apartment and took the twenty-dollar ride home. The sun had finally made its way about the horizon once I got home. As soon as I paid the driver and stepped out, I noticed my mother's car wasn't in the driveway, but the town car was. And Sam stood at the front door with his hands in his pockets and an angry look on his face.

I approached him cautiously, running my fingers through my hair just in case it looked like a mess. Once he heard my footsteps, he whipped around and glared at me.

"Where have you been?" he hissed, making me flinch.

"Michelle's," I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. "Not that it's any of your business.

He forced an angry laugh and stalked towards me, gasping his cell in his hand. "See, I just got off the phone with Michelle, and she said she hasn't seen you in days."

My focus shot down to the pavement as my stomach did turns. I hated being caught in a lie. Sam rushed to me and lifted my chin with his forefinger. "You didn't..."

I pulled away from his hand and shoved past him towards the door, jostling my key into the lock. "Please go away, Sam." If he didn't do as I said, I was afraid I'd blow up.

"Not until you look me in the eye and tell me you didn't fuck him." His voice nearly cracked.

I dropped my hand from the doorknob and turned to face him. "Why do you even care?" It was a question I was sure I knew the answer to. From the way Sam was acting, I was beginning to think Mickey was right.

"Because he's a fucking man whore, Carly!" He yelled out for the whole neighborhood to hear.

I balled up my fists, as my blood boiled with anger. "If you must know," I spat through my teeth, "he gave me the best night I could ever ask for."

Without waiting for him to say anything, I slid through the door, shutting it and locking it behind me. 

*****

This was going to be a longer, and more graphic chapter, but I didn't really want to go into detail with the illegal act of prostitution.