Marry The CEO Politician

DRINK AND HIM

Valerie's POV

I didn't kill myself. I honestly couldn't do that. I had many options to choose from while in prison; I could have killed myself with the prison scissors or the toilet scrubbing brush or even used the cuffs on my wrist to s***h it open.

To make things easier, I went to a bar. I still had a few bucks with me — a few dollars to spend. By tomorrow, I probably won't have anything left. And then it would dawn on me that life outside was more expensive than living in prison.

I slumped onto a stool, the dim lights enveloping me like a heavy shroud. The bartender, a kind-eyed man, raised an eyebrow as I ordered my third whiskey. I wanted to drink my sorrows away, at least. That was my only resort.

"Take it slow, sweetheart," he advised.

I laughed, a harsh, mirthless sound. "My life is ruined," I declared, my words slurring slowly. "I just got out of prison, and my boyfriend ripped me."

The bartender's expression softened, then he asked, "What happened, ma'am?”

I took a swig of my drink, feeling the burn all the way down. "He cheated on me." I spat, the words bitter on my tongue, "he said I was nothing to him, that he'd moved on, and he sold my house and wasted my money. Bad investment.”

The bartender nodded sympathetically. "Sorry to hear that. But you're strong, you'll get through this."

I snorted. "Strong? Me? You don't know me. I've been to hell and back, and I've got nothing to show for it. All I know about are wedding dresses.”

The bartender poured another drink. "That's something, you know. We've all been there. But sometimes, you gotta hit rock bottom before you start climbing back up.”

I raised my glass, a toast to my misery. "Well, I'm definitely at rock bottom.” I laughed.

I had a few more bottles, and at one point, I got pressed. I stumbled out of my seat, my vision blurry from the whiskey. "Toilet," I slurred.

The bartender nodded and pointed me towards the ladies' room. “Right in that corner, lady.”

I didn't really see where he pointed, but I didn't care. Little did I know I was heading to the men's toilet. All I wanted was just to pee.

As I entered the men's toilet, I realised my mistake, but it was too late. I was already peeing on the floor, unable to control myself.

A voice behind me shouted, "Hey, what the…”

I turned, still peeing. I then saw a man standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock. I couldn't see him well because of the effect of the drink. I flung myself at him, laughing hysterically and wrapping my arms around his neck.

“You want to have s*x?” I asked him.

The man must have looked at me for a long time before he pushed me off him and went out. I laid on the floor, on my pee for a while before dragging myself up. The toilet smelt like sh*t – like my life. I could have ended up being killed. It would be better. I wouldn't have to face this cruel world.

I killed someone eight years ago. But I wasn't sure who it was, and I cannot remember how I killed her. Yes, the person I killed was a woman. And till today, I couldn't quite place how I ended her life.

And two people I cared about mostly in the world found her dead body beside me – my parents. They didn't even wait for any explanations, the called the police immediately and lo and behold, I got eight years. It was fair enough, the girl's family didn't want want to press charges anymore.

I was drunk. Just like now. And if I had a weapon now, I could have killed that man. Psychopaths tend to continue their gruesome crimes again. But why didn't I get that urge to kill that man?

“You are not a psychopath.” A voice screamed at me.

I smiled and got up. I would stagger my way out of here and get to my last resort.

Just as I was about to leave the bathroom corridor, a hand grasped my arm, spinning me around. I tried to protest, but my voice was weak. A man's face loomed in front of me, but it was shrouded in darkness. I couldn't make out his features; I couldn't see his eyes.

“What the..."

The man dragged me into a room, his grip on my arm like a vice. I stumbled, my legs trembling beneath me. He pushed me against a wall, his hands covering my nose and mouth. I tried to struggle, but my body felt like lead.

And then, the craziest thing happened! The man's lips were on mine. Hard, insistent. It tasted like salt and pepper, alcohol and meat, mint and cinnamon. I tried to turn away, but he held me fast. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me.

“Hmm, tasty," he whispered into my mouth and continued to kiss me.

He tasted so sweet, so nice and it did things to my body. I haven't felt like this in many years and it excited me so much.

I couldn't see him; I couldn't push him away. I was trapped, helpless. My mind fogged with alcohol; I couldn't even muster a scream. His kisses deepened and grew more urgent. I felt like I was drowning, suffocating under his touch. I tried to raise my arms to push him off, but they felt like weights, too heavy to lift.

“Too many clothes..." He breathed. His hands moved very fast – my back, my thigh, my breast.

Too many clothes? My eyes snapped open when he said that, but I couldn't escape. I was about to have s*x with an unknown man. He could be a lunatic, a homeless man, a psychopath, a thief — he could be anything, yet I didn't care, I didn't mind.

“The bed.” The man rasped, and I slumped into the bed. By now, I was in my pants. We laid on the bed, and the man's hands moved to remove my last piece of clothing. I felt a shiver run down my spine as he teased me, his fingers tracing the edges of my pants before slowly pulling them down. The sensation was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Oww.” That was not a moan, but it kind of excited the man because he bent his head and did unimaginable things to me.

“You taste like heaven, woman.” He rasped. His voice, it was unlike anything I had ever heard, it was both cooling and soothing, deep and creamy.

He was fast! His lips came up again and crashed against mine, the kiss intense and passionate. I felt like I was drowning in the depths of his torture, unable to escape the desire that burned between us. I tried to cry out, but my voice was muffled by his lips.

“Shh. Don't scream.”

Suddenly, I felt him move against me, and I screamed, the sound lost in the darkness. My mind was a jumble of emotions, unsure of what was happening or why. All I knew was that I loved the way I was feeling.

“Oh d*mn!”

He thrust deep again, without any mercy, I felt him deep in my core, tight and right, cold and heavy.

The room spun around me, a blur of shadows and darkness. I felt like I was floating, disconnected from my body. The only thing that anchored me was the man's touch, his hands holding me in place as he moved against me.

I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe. All I could do was feel, my senses overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through my body.

When was the last time I had s*x?

Eight terrible years ago. This was one out of a hundred that made me happy. And in the morning, I wouldn't care. I would deal with whatever happened later on.