“Who is she to you?” I look down at the picture of us, me standing between her parted thighs cupping her face as her eyes gaze up towards me, and contemplate the answer that everyone’s been looking for me to give. I don’t know what the fuck they want me to tell them, like the shit would make a difference anyway. Everyone was going to believe what the wanted to believe anyway, America really didn’t care about the intricate details, they didn’t care about the matters of the heart. They just wanted to know if I fucked her, if so how long had I been fucking her, and in either case- where does it leave Cameron. Truth is I don’t have an answer, I don’t have shit to tell them. It would have been easier to say what I wanted her to be to me, there was no other way to explain us. I could tell them she was nothing to me, but that wouldn’t have done her justice. She was everything to me, and I couldn’t have her. Its these damn questions, this consistent probing, that got me sitting here dwelling on that shit- thinking about how fucked up this situation really is. I don’t even know what I’m most mad at. Is it that she never told me she was in a relationship, or the fact that she was in a relationship with a woman. A fucking lesbian… I can’t fathom it. It’s like it’s not real, like the shits just made up. So how the fuck am I suppose to explain to the world something I don’t even understand myself? Why is it that everyone expects me to have all the answers? I don’t, I can’t even explain my own fucking behavior. I went from being a man of many means, to seriously considering- no fuck that- I went from being a fucking no good bastard to…to…shit, some shit I aint never been before. I stopped thinking like I used to. Fucking ten girls in whatever amount of time didn’t mean shit to me anymore, didn’t even compare to me being able to just touch Bryne. Looking her in her fucking eyes…it was all I needed. It was shit like that I was starting to miss. It stopped being about what a woman could do for me and became about what I could do for that woman. That woman, Bryne… she changed me. It scared the shit out of me at first to realize it…but it was seeing that same fear in her eyes that changed my way of thinking. I could see she was fighting, I could feel that she was holding shit back, and it made me want to bring it out of her. It made what I felt change into something that excited me, because never before had I ever wanted another person as much as I wanted- and felt I needed Bryne. I would have done anything to convince her that I was after her heart, that I was after her with a force that I never thought one could have for another person. Even now…I want her, that’s what’s so fucked up about  all this shit. I can’t even hate her…because, fuck me….I love her.

“ I don’t know.” Bill gave me a tired look, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shuffling the pile of pictures before us. I know he wanted more, but I didn’t have any answers to give, and the constant questoining was beginning to piss me the fuck off. I bit my lip and tried to keep my eyes from scanning over those pictures of us, with my mouth on hers, her hands on me, my fucking hand up her skirt.

“ Justin your going to have to do better than that…” He sighed, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair, before running it across his face. I recognized his pattern of body language and new that this was shit that was going to be a challenge to get to go away. This was a situation where I’m sure he felt the more information he knew, the better he’d be at being able to handle it, but I wasn’t willing to give him- or any of these blood sucking paparazzi assclowns – any insight.

“ That’s the best I can do.” I was being stubborn, I was nowhere near cooperating, but I meant to keep what Bryne and I had between us. She was already getting slaughtered for the few pictures that surfaced, and with the pictures that were bound to resurface- she was in for a demolishing. The press would do all they could to gather what information they could use to incriminate her, and it was enough to deal with just me knowing all the fucked up facts. I didn’t need the world adding their two cents in.

“ What is this? Are you serious about this girl?” I gave Bill a stern look that said more than I spoke since he began his interrogation. I was serious as all hell, and it didn’t matter that he – or anyone else didn’t understand- it just mattered that they got the fucking picture. Bryne was a private matter, I had no intention of discussing her and what went on between us with anybody. All my camp had to worry about was how to get her name out of the motherfucking paper and her face out of the limelight, everything else was none of their gotdamn business.

“ We’re done.” I pushed back my seat and moved to stand ignoring Bill’s protests and headed for the door. I had to get the fuck out of there. I couldn’t keep my fucking focus with those damn pictures covering the table. The motherfuckers got the shot from every angle, and the more my eyes came across the photos, the more I remembered each and every place my hands ever went to touch her. Across her face, down her neck, over her supple breast…it made me remember how her naked flesh felt against the palm of my hand. It made me hot, too agitated, to think clearly. I should have been discussing the best possible way to attack this media nightmare and all I could think about was how bad I wanted my fingers back inside her, how I needed to taste her, how necessary it was for me to have her. I loosened the color of buttoned down dress shirt and moved briskly towards my office. Maybe I’d find some solace in there, since it was evident that wherever I was to go today, I would be accosted with photos of Bryne. She was every fucking where. All over every cable channel, spread across the front page of damn near every gossip magazine. I heard her name whispered throughout the fucking building, my employees huddled in corners, making no move to lower their voices when I approached. It pissed me the fuck off, that I couldn’t even deal with this shit as a private matter, but that it had to be at the forefront of everyone else’s concern. I hated this feeling more than anything, the lack of privacy, the airing of all my fucking dirty laundry for the world to see.

Her scent filled me before I even recognized it was her. She was standing near my window, looking out at the city, leaned against the wall as if she had been waiting for some time. I swallowed down hard, unable to stop my eyes from tracing the curves of her body, barely able to breath when she turned and looked at me. She was so fucking beautiful, a fucking curse to me, standing there looking as if her fucking world fell apart.

“ Bryne what are you doing here?” I tried to ignore that pained look in her eyes that beckoned me to come to her. My resistance was a fucking fragile mess, taking me for all I had just to keep my sanity. She hadn’t even said anything, didn’t even move, and everything about her was slowly undoing my very nature. She had the power to move me, without any effort of her own, and nothing I  did could work against it. It wasn’t fair, this whole fucked up situation wasn’t fair, because nothing about the shit that she did should have me wanting her with more need than I felt even before I knew she had a fucking girlfriend. The shit frustrated me, brought me to my mothafucking wits end.

“ We need to talk.” Her voice was soft, a strong contrast to her usual brash self. Her arms were wrapped about her, pushing her chest even more against the fitted white cotton shirt she wore. Her hair was pulled away from her face, her eyes huge and sombering, milking the anger out of me with their hollowly look.

“ Shit Bryne..your all about talking now.” I smirked, moving away from her, unwilling to give in to that look that was holding my heart captive. I didn’t want to imagine the stress of all that was going on, how it affected her. I didn’t want to care, I shouldn’t. I should have stopped caring the moment I knew she belonged to someone else. I shouldn’t still care. I turned my back to her and watched the door to my office, contemplating whether I should stay or walk out now. I didn’t have enough strength when it came to her, she was my fucking weakness. That shit unsettled me to the core, because there as nothing I was afraid of, and everything about this girl made me afraid to stay around her.

“ I’ve been with her for three years Justin…”

“ Bee….” I didn’t want to hear how much she loved someone else. I didn’t want to know the intimate details of her lesbian relationship with some other woman, some other fucking person who was not me. I wanted her.

“ What do you want me to do Justin?!...These damn cameras keep following me, asking me questions about you, about us…fuck about Cameron…and Belinda.” Her shoulders started to shake, the tears began welding in her eyes. My eyes couldn’t take the scene before me, there was no way I would have been able to stand guard with her breaking down in front of me. “ They call me a whore…a fucking mistress…they curse at me…” she choked on her sobs, her tears no rushing down her face. I couldn’t take it any longer, I couldn’t just sit and let her cry, I couldn’t ignore the tug at my heart with each word she cried out. I knew they’d crucify her, but I didn’t imagine how she’d handle it.  I was so wrapped up in our fucked up situation that I forgot I brought something else to this equation, my fucking celebrity status. We wouldn’t be able to go through this alone, behind closed doors. No, every private moment would be on screen, across newspapers, shared with everyone.

“ Come here.” I pulled her into my arms, her presence enough to tear down any resistance I built against her. She buried her face into my chest, wrapped her arms around my waist, and hugged herself to me as tears disappeared into my shirt. It was like that night when she came to my door, the lost look in her eyes, the unsure feeling that overwhelmed her. I wanted to erase it all from her, I wanted to take the place of her uncertainty and give her everything until she was certain that there was going to be one constant in her life- that constant was going to be me. Fuck, she made me want to do things I wasn’t used to do doing, made me feel things I wasn’t used to feeling. This wasn’t like me, none of this shit was, but this was me…these were my arms circling around her willing to draw out all the pain inside of her and carry it in her place. I thought about the secrets she told me, the things she hadn’t kept hidden from me, and it reminded me of how vulnerable she was. It was fucked up for her not to tell me about Miranda, but was it enough to make me forget about the things that she did entrust me with. She told me shit she never told another soul, shit that probably had a hand in shaping her into the person she is today. A beautiful fucking person who managed to turn my whole fucking world upside down, so much so that I willed to comfort her amiss this fucked up situation. “ Stop crying Bee…”

“ This scares me…Justin….I… I lo...” but she bit her lip, she wouldn’t continue and I knew in that moment she wanted to say something that not only scared the shit out of her, but also shook the very foundation of her world. Her eyes clouded over with tears as she searched my face, her own expression a mixture of complex emotions. We shouldn’t be standing here like this, she shouldn’t be in my arms, I shouldn’t be forgetting that she lied to me…but it was all slipping away, getting lost in that warm emotion that always filled me when she was around. I didn’t stop myself from moving to hold her, and I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her. Her mouth was parted, her tongue just below the surface, and I couldn’t resist capturing the warmth of her inside me. Taking her breath, her tears, and her forbidden words, I kissed her until I felt her distress turn into desire. Her hands no longer clung to my waist for support, but moved up my chest to unbutton my shirt and open me up to her. My hands moved to her hips, unbuttoning her skirt and pushing down her thick thighs. Lifting her, until she sat on my desk and had I fitted between her legs, I arched her head back and deepened our kiss as her hands went around my neck. I missed her, the way she tasted and smelled, they way her hands played with the short curls at the nape of my neck. When I had her like this, and she had me at my fucking end, I couldn’t think about everything that worked against us. I could only think about what I wanted for us, what I could sense in the yearn of her touch, what I meant for her to feel with every stroke that took me deeper inside of her. I pushed aside the barrier of her panties and moved my fingers into her warmth. The moan that escaped her lips only encouraged the movement of my fingers, her hips rocking with the rhythm of them as they slid in and out of her. I watched her swell with pleasure, throwing her head back, squeezing her walls in response to my touch, moaning incoherently. I was ready to plunge my self inside of her, I wanted to fill her space, move within those pressured wet walls that swallowed my fingers whole. Like she knew what I was thinking, she moved her hands to the belt of my pants and moved to unbuckle them. Her hands expertly moving to unlatch the belt, undo the buttons, and release m throbbing member. Her hand stroked the shaft sending my fucking senses wild. She moved forward, my stretched member peaking at her entrance, receiving her dripping juices as she moved to kiss me. With our movements, I slowly slipped inside of her, my head pressing forth into her goodness, barely fitting in the taut opening. She gasped in response, tightening up, as I eased my head back out and moved to make her more comfortable. She was half leaning, half sitting on my desk, and as bad as I wanted her, she had to be comfortable. Picking her up, and wrapping her legs around me, I cleared the desk so that she could lie completely back. When I sat her back down, she just held tighter to me, kissing me harder than I think she ever had.

“ You okay Bee.” I whispered against her ear, and her arms loosened around my neck, until we were face to face and I could see the tears in her eyes. My hand went to cup her cheek, but she stopped me, guiding my hand to between us, pushing my head against her warm center. Opening her legs wider, she waited for me to place myself fully inside her, her body stiffening with each push forward. As my length broke through her thick folds, guided by her juices, I felt myself succumbing to that overbearing craze I had for her. I fucking loved this girl, loved how she drove me crazy, how she heightened every emotion in me, how she had me giving her my all, wanting to show her with each stroke- just how serious I was about the way I felt. Her body rocked with mine, her breast bouncing with each thrust, my knees weakening at the sight of her. Her moans increased, grew louder with every stroke, and I didn’t care if the whole world tuned into listen.  I wanted to hear them, I wanted to hear the uninhibited yearn she had just for me. I wanted to be reminded of how I made her feel, when I was positioned deep inside of her, stretching out her walls, bringing down her love. “ Fuck Bee.” Her legs tightened around me and I drew closer to her, stroking her walls, coaxing her climax, feeding our need. Her juices were wrapped around me, her moans filling my senses, her hands reaching for my chest. I lifted her up, brought her close to my body as I held her firmly over my length, silencing her increased moans as her hips bucked against me and her juices released all over me. My own release followed in the course of hers and I held her tighter as I spilled inside of her, her legs still wrapped tightly around mine, her arms once again fixed around my neck. I couldn’t stand, could barely make it to the couch across the room, where I collapsed with her still in my arms. I was still buried deep inside of her, and even as I grew soft, she still remained her hold never letting up. I had no idea what we had gotten ourselves into, I didn’t care really. Nothing about us made sense, but nothing felt as right as it did when I was with her. I stayed within her, listening to her hushed tears, stroking her bare back, knowing that we had just crossed into something we probably weren’t prepared for. Just when I thought she had fallen asleep, my thoughts running wild with uncertainty of what was going to happen next, she turned her face towards me- her eyes looking about as lost as my thoughts were. I gave her a reassuring smile, kissed her gingerly and laid down on the couch with her situated on top of me. She nestled her head between my shoulder and neck, and I sifted off to sleep, with her soft kisses covering my neck. I could have been dreaming….I must have been dreaming, but it almost sounded as if she whispered;

“Justin I love you.”