He shuts his eyes and pulls out of me, tossing the used condom before he pulls his pants up and tucks himself back in. Turning his body towards me, he picks up his suit jacket and slips it across his broad shoulders, his face completely impassive. Ah. The awkward aftermath of sex with a stranger. I avoid his eyes as I hop down and turn to fix my dress in the mirror, realizing that he still has my panties in his pocket. Fuck, is he going to give them back? Or does he expect me to ask him for them? I meet his eyes briefly in the mirror, breaking the contact almost immediately at the sight of his tight jaw and creased brow. Fuck that. I’m not asking him anything.

The door rattles. “Shit.” His voice is clipped and irritated as he glances at me before turning towards the door. “I’m really sorry,” he says as his fingers slide the lock back and he opens it, allowing two men to enter as I stand at the sink.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

I shake my head and push past them, my shoulder brushing against Reese as I walk down the hallway and quickly up the stairs, leaving him in the restroom. Jesus Christ what was his problem? What the fuck was he sorry for? He came didn’t he? I’m fuming, my hands clenched tightly at my side as I storm through the crowd. I make my way to my table where my two friends sit, picking at the food on their plates. Their eyes both lock onto my face and Joey grins wide while Juls studies me questionably.

“I need to get out of here,” I say, grabbing my clutch that I had left on the table and trying my best to avoid their stares.

“And where the hell have you been?” Joey asks, pushing his plate away as Juls stands up and walks over towards me. “Please tell me you just got thoroughly fucked.”

“Yes, Dylan, where were you? You missed the cake cutting.” God damn it. That’s the only thing I really wanted to see.

“Don’t ask.” I glance to my right and spot Reese as he walks towards his table, his eyes meeting mine briefly before flicking away. He looks thoroughly fucked as well, his hair a sexy disheveled mess.

“Oh Christ. Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did with him?” I bend down and kiss Joey quickly on the cheek, ignoring Juls questioning.

“Are you coming with me?” I ask.

“Nah, I’m going to spend some more alone time with Billy.” He pulls me closer to him. “I want every fucking detail tomorrow.” I roll my eyes at him before I turn and walk out of the reception area with Juls.

I make it down the stairs and to the front door before she stops me and demands answers. “Well?”

“Well what? I forgot your question.” I didn’t.

She crosses her arms over her chest and glares at me. “Did you fuck Reese? Dylan, please tell me you didn’t.”

“Technically, he fucked me and thoroughly freaked out afterwards. Can I go now please?”

Her mouth drops open. “Fucking motherfucker. Dylan he’s married.”

I have to grip the wall to prevent myself from falling over. “What? But he said he didn’t have a girlfriend.” My mouth drops open. “Oh, that asshole. I bet her thought he was really clever, telling me he hasn’t had a girlfriend since college. I suppose a wife isn’t technically a girlfriend.” The tight sensation in my gut from my previous orgasm is now instantly replaced with nausea and an intense urge to punch Reese in the nuts. “How do you know he’s married?”

Juls runs her hands down her face. “Ian told me he was married when I met all of them briefly for drinks last week. Wow. What a scumbag.” Indeed. Scumbag doesn’t even come close to describe him at the moment. I’m thinking douche-bag, tool, asshole, fucking prick.

Pinching the top of my nose with my thumb and pointer finger, I quickly replay the hottest sex I’ve ever had over in my head. I drop my hand and clench my fist. I could kill him. “And no fucking wonder he couldn’t get away from me quick enough afterwards. How the hell was I supposed to know he was married? He wasn’t wearing a ring.”

“Dylan?” We both turn our attention to Justin who is standing at the bottom of the steps, eye wide and full of shock as he looks at me. Well this night just keeps getting better.

I snap my eyes back to my best friend, ignoring the cheating loser on the stairs. “I’m leaving before I get arrested for homicide. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I say to Juls and Juls alone.

I open the door and walk out to the valet attendants, reminding them that I am the owner of the delivery van as they laugh amongst themselves. I’m fuming and so not in the mood for this shit. “You’re working a fucking wedding so I know you’re not riding around in Lexus’. Just go get my fucking van,” I snap at them and they immediately shut up. One scurries away quickly towards the parking lot.

“Dylan, can I talk to you?” Justin’s voice comes from behind me.

“No. Congratulations Justin. The ceremony was lovely.” I feel his hand on my shoulder and I turn quickly, stepping out of his grasp.

“Don’t touch me. Shouldn’t you be upstairs with your wife?”

He snickers and steps closer, his gray eyes full of mischief. “Well if I heard correctly, aren’t married men your thing now?” Oh no, he did not just say that. My hand comes hard and fast, slapping him across his face as he stumbles back, wide-eyed and smiling.

“Fuck you,” I spat, seeing Sam pull up to the curb and walking quickly to the driver’s side. I can’t pull away fast enough; tires spinning as I quickly make my way down the long driveway and away from my complete fuck up of a night. I should have never come to this stupid thing. Hooking up with a married man at the wedding of my ex-boyfriend. Jesus Karma. You are one hateful bitch.

Three

Sunday was a complete blur. I spent the entire day in bed unless I had to use the bathroom or get something from the kitchen. After several missed calls and texts from Joey, I finally turned my phone off and kept it that way the rest of the day. Juls probably made him aware of Reese being married, but whereas she was into lecturing me about the topic, Joey would high-five me, insisting I tell him every juicy detail about the hook up. And I wasn’t in the mood for either. I didn’t want to think about the best orgasm I’d ever had. I didn’t want to think about the way his lips felt against mine, against my skin, the taste of his mouth, his smell, the way his face looked when he came, the sound of my name on his lips, the way he looked at me as he fucked me against the sink, or how ridiculously huge he was. Because he was married. He was fucking married and a complete tool for hooking up with me behind his wife’s back. I can’t even have a one night stand without it blowing up in my face. And then there was my jerk off of an ex-boyfriend. Following me outside and putting his hands on me like that when he should have been glued to his new wife’s side. Talk about a scumbag. Of course, he did get cheated on at his own wedding which could not delight me more. That bastard got everything he deserved and whatever else is coming to him. I hope he doesn’t find out about his wife’s indiscretions for a while and thinks he’s in a loving marriage when in reality she is out fucking anything that moves.

**

My alarm annoyingly wakes me at 5:00a.m. on Monday as usual. I like to get a run in every morning before I open up the shop, mainly because of the large amount of sugar consumption that happens regularly between Joey and me during work hours. Dressing in my running gear, I grab my phone and keys off my nightstand and go downstairs into the large kitchen. I live in a small loft above the bakery and have since I opened the place three years ago. It’s practical for me living at my job since some days I’m required to get up in the middle of the night to work on something for a client. My loft consists of one large room that I separated into two with a decorative screen, giving my bedroom area some privacy from the living room and kitchen. It is small, quaint, and cheap. Renting the room above the bakery only costs me $850 a month which is relatively inexpensive for the downtown Chicago area. Below the loft, the stairs dump out into the large kitchen/work space that I spend the majority of my time in, with a doorway that leads out to the main bakery. I make my way through that doorway and smile at Joey’s face that is pressing against the glass, peering inside. He never misses a run. I step outside and lock up behind me, seeing his angry expression glaring at me as I spin to greet him.