Read Cheaters Anonymous for Free Online Page B

chair. Apparently law school had stuck with Scar more than he knew.
    “I didn’t want you operating another pump incapacitated and get it stuck on your cock,” I lied. Why was it so difficult to admit that I still cared for him? “Besides, is it so bad to want a friend healthy?”
    His mouth lifted. It was so easy to talk to Scar, yet a bit intimidating at the same time. He had definitely changed: broader shoulders, sharper jaw, extremely sexy and slick hair cut, rougher fingers... Oh, those fingers! Maybe I shouldn’t have come here.
    “And an STD report?” He interrupted my lust-filled thoughts. If anyone from my support group had seen me here, acting like this, they’d know I had just taken two steps back... maybe even more.
    “Given your job, I thought you’d want to know.”
    He let out a laugh. For a moment I thought I had offended him, but if I did he wouldn’t let me see it in his eyes. Scar was trying to give me the impression of a man who didn’t care. Or was I reading him wrong? Seeing how he kept sipping my drink, I waved to the waiter for another one.
    “Well, then, it’s a good thing I don’t sleep around for money,” he said.
    “I... I didn’t mean to... I just thought you worked here.”
    “I do work here. I own this club.”
    What?
    “I bought Hounds the same day I left the ski resort.”
    The day he left me with nothing more than a note.
    The suit and tie made much more sense now. As much as I’d rather see Scar in one of the skimpy outfits most of the staff here wore, my imagination took me back to the last time I’d seen him wearing nothing – when he was at the hospital. In my mind, I wiped the paint away with my wet hands. Colorful streams flowed down his muscles and onto the floor, slowly and tantalizingly revealing his naked perfection, forming rainbow puddles on the linoleum.
    Shit! I couldn’t allow myself to think that way. Not about Scar. This could only mean trouble.
    “How long have you been in New York, Jules? And why didn’t you come see me earlier?”
    Because I was sick.
    “It’s only been two years, Scar. I finished my residency in Washington and got a permanent position on Long Island.”
    “Only? I thought our friendship meant a bit more than that.” Scar appeared completely hurt; as if I had been the one who’d left that day.
    “And I thought I meant more than a note,” I spat back. My voice was beginning to shake. There was no way I’d let another man ruin me or make me feel like it was my fault, the way they usually did. Men hurt me before, but now I was strong enough not to let them. He was the one who left, not me. Why was it so difficult for me to admit to Scar that during the past two years I had avoided him on purpose? Deep inside I knew I couldn’t commit to the program with Scar around. He was the only man in the world who spun my mind like a carousel, and he didn’t even know it. He was my weakness, my Achilles’ heel. I got up from my chair and reached for my purse, “It was a mistake coming here. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
    He grasped my wrist. The touch heated my skin, forcing my entire body to be that much more aware of him. It electrified me, and for the first time in years made me wish for one stolen night with Scar Wagner. That was all. Just one night – even if it meant my obsession returned. The need wasn’t about my addiction or a lack of faith in myself. I could be well again; all I needed was Scar. It was always about Scar and how much he meant to me. And even though I knew he’d crush me, I was willing to bet that I’d be the one to crush him first, simply because deep inside I was still broken, and I pushed men away as soon as I drowned in an orgasm.
    As if sensing what his touch had done to me, Scar stood up and brought me closer to his body. He wrapped his arms around me, completely encasing me. I leaned against his hard chest, inhaling the blend of vanilla and paint. It was different from the slight smell of