CLEANER II: Chapter Six - Part Seven

MELISSA

I needed to fuck somebody and I needed to do it now.

The deep darkness between my legs was rippling with arousal and I needed to act on it immediately. And not just because I was horny as hell. I had a compulsion to do it that was beyond any desire just to scratch an itch or resolve the pent-up tension that had built before and during Dahlia’s visit. I wasn’t sure what it was but I needed to get out there.

I kept on the translucent silk robe and bathing suit and slipped on some cream wedges then took the lift down to the lobby and made my way round outside. I strode along determinedly and I could see the looks I got of admiration and wonder. I was an attractive athletic woman and my long stride was both feminine and wholly confident. There wasn’t anything about me now that insinuated my old self. I wasn’t wholly Dahlia – I knew that – but this me was only a hair’s breadth away from that image. If anything I was more like the original Dahlia than she had been prior to the swap.

When she first approached me to exchange she wasn’t the vivacious, self-assured celebrity she had once been. She was a shy recluse suffering from increasing depression; maybe even anxiety; and possibly even a smidgeon of agoraphobia. She had been making a show of going back into the limelight but it was clear to me now that this whole endeavour was an attempt to escape from that life she felt she ought to recapture. She didn’t want to be famous again. Quite the opposite. She wanted to disappear into the cracks where nobody knew her and there was no longer any pressure to excel. There were other factors; her brother’s death being a big one that nudged her over the edge; but when it came down to it, becoming me for her was about getting away from being her. I just happened to be there and I happened to be a willing participant.

Maybe there was a little more to it than that – perhaps there had to be – but as far as I cared about, that was the element that applied to me.

I went out into the sunshine and went over to the pool bar; ordered an extravagant cocktail. It wasn’t for Dutch courage – I didn’t need that anymore – it was because I wanted the sweet taste, and because it was part of the image. I leaned back, crossed my legs seductively, and waited to reel a man in. There were half a dozen possible around the pool, of which two were preferable. Right now it was about getting laid. I didn’t really care who it was. Their character was entirely irrelevant. I wanted someone rich like I was right now and someone chiselled: someone I could never have netted in my old life.

That made me smirk. I couldn’t have netted any man in my old life. I was a disgusting fat heifer with less sex appeal than a desiccated corpse.

It came to me suddenly why I was doing this and my smirk became a self-deprecatory smile.

This was about proving I could do this. To myself. That I had the power to do this. 

I had made my gambit with Dahlia and she had tried to put up a wall of resistance. Hell, she had told me what she wanted first: to go back to her old life!

Hearing her do that had filled me with something close to terror. She was threatening my entire future with her whimsy and that made me angry, hateful and bitter. Why should she get to choose? She had thrown away her life of wealth and beauty. It was mine now. What right did she have to claim back the life I had been given? It wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve it. Not like I did.

I had made something of this life; more than she had. I had done far better than she ever could. She had started off slim and beautiful. She had been born into the riches and brought up to manage them. I had had to fight for all of that. I had had to change my body from obese to athletic under only the force f my own will.

It was maybe a little fucked up, but that was why I was here by the pool; to prove to myself and anyone watching that I could do anything I wanted; anything that she could have. I could have a gorgeous man anytime I chose.

And it didn’t make me a slut that it was only about sex and power. It didn’t matter that I’d been with dozens of different men in the past couple of months – no strings attached. The only reason Dahlia had shirked the company of males was because she was messed up. She hadn’t possessed the confidence I did for years.

I stewed for a little while, feeling antsy. For some reason I was angry at myself but I didn’t know why.

It was angst. It had to be. I’d made my play to snatch and keep hold of this life and Dahlia had surprised me by having enough gumption left to fight for it. She was crazy enough to want to keep my shitty old life but she hadn’t been as crushed as I thought. She really had planned to go back. I hadn’t really anticipated or planned for this kind of resistance. I honestly didn’t know which way she’d go and that scared me. After all these months of being the one in control it felt like I’d used up my chance to persuade or dominate her. Now all the decision-making power fell to her. I didn’t like that. It made me want to chase after her to her hotel and apply more pressure than I had.

|But that didn’t feel right. Not now. Not yet. She needed to have some time to stew in her juices. Because surely at the end of the day her own fear had to be reasserting itself; her own resistance to going back. I didn’t need to persuade her. She would persuade herself.

I hoped.

I downed the rest of my cocktail; not like a cultured lady but like a wino, desperate for the hit; then I ordered a second one the same.

I sighed, lowering my head, turning my knees and shoulders inward, feeling low.

Then I thought, no. No way.

I wasn’t going to get depressed. That was the kind of thing that she did. I wasn’t going to sink to her level. I was the better woman by far. I was going to win this by force of character.

I straightened in my seat, raising my chin. I took a demure sip of my fresh cocktail and made myself smile. I crossed my legs again to set my bait then I glanced to my left.

A gorgeous, hunk of a man was watching me slyly: one of the two I most wanted to have my way with. I didn’t avert my eyes shyly. I maintained eye contact and then very deliberately gave him a smile. Then I tipped my glass. Then I turned back to the bar and ignored him.

I was going to win this. I was going to beat her. I was a better Dahlia than she had ever been. There was no way she would stand up to me now. This life was going to be mine if I had to fight to my dying breath.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the man get to his feet and start to saunter my way.

I smiled to myself and took another sip, uncrossing and recrossing my long legs.