Inside the Maelstrom

by Grace McGinty

  “I’ve imagined all the ways I want to fuck you in this tiny dress all night long. Bent over. On your knees. Up against the bathroom wall at the restaurant. Then I imagined peeling it off you slowly, so I could taste every inch of your flesh and claim it as mine.”

  Oh god. His words were their own kind of foreplay, raising goosebumps on my skin and dampening my core until I ached with every brush of his fingertips. Slipping beneath the lace lines of my underwear, he stroked his fingers through my folds, making a satisfied noise at how wet I was. He teased around my clit, just enough pressure for the promise of pleasure, but not enough at all. The fucker was tormenting me.

  “Please,” I begged, and he laughed. I clawed his back. “I thought you said we were in a hurry?”

  One of the other guys grunted out a curse as Sampson kissed my neck, placing soft bites there. “But I love that noise you make when I tease.” He let out a put-upon sigh. “Fine. Hard and fast it is, like the dirty girl you are.” He rubbed his thumb across my clit, making me buck into his hand.

  “Yes,” I breathed, as he slid two fingers inside me, his thumb still gently working me. God, this man was good with his hands. Almost as good as Hendrick was with his mouth.

  Maybe this was why women didn’t have more than one lover—if they nailed the basics, a woman would be an amply pleasured puddle instead of a constructive member of society.

  He rolled his fingers inside me, and I gripped him tightly as he hit all the right spots. “Sampson,” I gasped, clawing him closer. “Oh god...”

  I tilted my head to the side as he kissed and nipped my neck, my body thrumming with pleasure that was building at the same wild tempo as my heartbeat. He continued to stroke and tease, thrusting hard enough that it was just this side of too much, and it was so, so good. I looked over to see Otto and Hendrick watching me with hungry eyes, like they were taking a mental porno reel of the moment to use later. Hendrick adjusted his cock in his pants, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

  Sampson bit harder, making me gasp and moan at the same time, which was a fucking weird noise. “Concentrate. I want you to come for me, Good Girl. Come for me here, where anyone down on the ground could see your delicious ass pressed against the glass and my fingers buried inside you.”

  Hendrick muttered something about a telescope, but I didn’t care as my orgasm washed over me and I muffled my scream behind my lips.

  I slumped back against the glass. Well, as much as Sampson’s tight grip around my back would allow. My head fell to the side and I realized we’d reached the pinnacle of the ride. The lights of Yokohama glowed below, looking like a glittering fairy kingdom. “The world’s perfect from up here.”

  Sampson leaned forward, kissing my lips softly so he didn’t ruin my makeup. “Yeah, it really is.”

  Chapter 35

  Sampson

  The club where Firth was meeting us was already insane. We’d waited in line for thirty minutes, because we meant less than nothing in Japan. Honestly, it was as annoying as it was refreshing.

  The club played a mix of Japanese and American house music, and everyone was dancing like this was a fucking pop music video. I checked my phone and saw a text from Firth, telling me he’d gotten us a seat in the VIP area. No idea how he’d managed it, but I was glad. I guess I’d become accustomed to not being in the crush of humanity.

  Firth saw us standing on the other side, and came over, saying something to the bouncer in rapid Japanese. The guy stepped aside, letting us past the barrier, and Firth grabbed my arm and pulled me into a hug. He was always overfamiliar.

  “Sampson, it’s good to see you, man!” He moved past me to Hendrick, grabbing his arm and dragging him into the VIP area. “Drix! Otto! God, it’s good to see you guys. It's been forever.”

  “You’ve been here six months, Firth.”

  Firth waved his hand, like that was a lifetime. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends.” He completely ignored Aviva, and I tried not to be annoyed. Tried and failed. But she rested a gentle hand on my arm and shook her head.

  We followed Firth through the tables to a small set of couches where two guys and a girl were laughing over drinks. The girl was a Brit; I could tell from her high, screeching laugh as she joked with the men. The guys looked like Firth: plain, loud, and filled with enough desperate confidence that it came off them in waves.

  “Guys, this is Sampson Rubio, Hendrick Kenley and Otto.” Yeah, no last name for Otto, because he wasn’t trying to name-drop him to sound more important. I was quickly remembering why Firth annoyed the fuck out of me, though I knew Hendrick liked him.

  The girl ate me up with her eyes, and I gave her a blank stare back. Putting my hand on Aviva’s spine, I directed her into the seat between me and Otto. Hendrick sat on the occasional table between the couches and poured himself a heavy dose of sake.

  “Guys, this is Torielle. She’s in the same young entrepreneurs exchange program as I am. This is Goro and Asa; they work in the office with me. I told them I was coming down to party in Yokohama, and they asked to come. The more the merrier, right Drix?”

  “Call me Elle,” the girl said pleasantly.

  Drix grunted something that might have been agreement, or might have just been from the burn of the sake. He pointed the bottle at Good Girl. “That’s Aviva. She’s poor and we’re chaperoning her around the world.”

  Aviva stiffened beside me, the barb obviously hitting the mark. “Fuck off, Hendrick. It was your idea, you asshole.”

  Firth threw back his head and laughed. “She certainly has a mouth on her.” There was an undertone of desire in his voice as he took in her long legs in that dress, her perky breasts, and that perfect pink mouth.

  I waited until he looked at me and I gave him a silent warning. It was all he’d get. If he even thought about hitting on Aviva, I would beat the ever-loving shit out of him. Then I’d systematically ruin his fucking life.

  I didn’t examine the reason why. I didn’t need to. She was mine.

  Firth proved he wasn’t a complete idiot by averting his gaze back to the British girl. “Let’s get more sake. I haven’t partied with you guys in nearly a year.”

  More bottles were bought, and I didn’t miss them waiting for me to put my card on the tab. Whatever. I could afford it, and Hendrick looked happy. Even Aviva was laughing at something Goro was saying. I let myself relax.

  Evan was at the bar, drinking water and watching the crowd. The girl behind the bar was trying hard to chat him up, but he was barely giving her anything. That happened at almost every bar we went to though. It wasn’t that Evan was attractive—well, not that I could tell anyway. No, the reason women always flocked to him was two-fold.

  One, he wasn’t interested. He was polite, and would answer direct questions, but gave off no signals whatsoever. He was a professional. He had a job. Women were just like men, in that they wanted the things that didn’t come easily. Wanted the challenge of wooing someone into letting us in. Not in a fucking sleazy way—no means no, always. The challenge lay in getting past the little voice that society implanted in your brain. The one that said you shouldn’t, that a person was out of your league, that it would end in heartache. Anyway, Evan presented that challenge in a way no other man in this club would.

  The second reason that he was catnip on nights like this was that Evan had an air of danger. It was just in the way he held himself. Despite the pleasant mediocrity of his face, his eyes held a coldness that was like a beacon to girls with daddy issues or who liked it a little rough.

  “Isn’t that right, Sampson?” Firth said, and I dragged my thoughts back to my current company. I raised an eyebrow until he repeated himself. “I said our nights out were legendary. You remember that time Drix was banging… fuck, was it Shauna? Sheena? Fuck, I can’t even remember her name. Whoever she was, Drix had her in the back of her daddy’s Rolls, and then the paps opened the car door. You couldn’t look at a newsstand for weeks without seeing her tits on the f
ront page of the tabloids.”

  “She got disinherited,” Otto murmured, always the conscience for those of us who didn’t possess one—Firth included.

  Hendrick shrugged. “She knew what she was doing.”

  Aviva frowned but didn’t say anything, sipping her drink. Elle stood up, dragging up Firth and Hendrick as well. “We should dance,” she screeched, and looked down at Aviva. “Come on, girl! Why come to a club if we don’t shake it?!”

  Aviva gave a tight laugh, but stood too. Otto was in an intense conversation about robotics and the future of communications with Asa and Goro, and waved us off. I sighed, standing. I hated dancing. But I wasn’t going to let my Good Girl go out there with just Hendrick and some strangers. He’d either fuck her, or piss her off, and neither of those options boded well for the rest of the night.

  Hendrick grabbed the bottle of sake off the table, glaring at security as if daring them to stop him from taking it out into the main area of the club.

  We moved down to the sunken dancefloor, with its strobing lights and smoke machine haze creating an epileptic’s nightmare. But it did seem almost surreal, like a frenzied orgy of sweaty limbs. Our group managed to find a spot and began to dance. I gripped Aviva’s hips as she swayed and bounced to the music, completely focused on how beautiful she looked as she let go of her inhibitions and just danced.

  She got that same euphoric look on her face when she came.

  One song turned into another, and then another, and finally I pulled her closer to my body, kissing her as I ground my body into hers in a way that couldn’t be construed as anything but foreplay.

  Someone whistled but I ignored them, but then Aviva’s entire body stiffened. I looked over to see Hendrick had his entire body pressed against Elle’s, and the way they were dancing was similar to fucking with your clothes on. From what I could tell, they weren’t actually fucking, but it was awfully goddamn close.

  “Cut it the fuck out, Drix,” I yelled over the sound of the music, and Hendrick cast me a petulant look, his eyes glazed with too much alcohol. I knew what was about to come out of his mouth would be bad.

  “What? You were basically fucking Aviva on the dancefloor—what am I supposed to do? Wait with my hand on my dick until she’s ready to screw her way back in my direction?”

  I felt more than heard Aviva’s gasp. “Fuck you, Hendrick Kenley. I screwed you once and that was uninspiring enough.”

  “Ah, Viva. You lost your appeal as soon as I got my dick inside you. Been there, done that, don’t need a repeat performance.”

  I sucked in a ragged breath of shock. I looked down at Aviva, and her look of pain, and shame, made my whole chest ache. Then a red haze came down over my vision.

  “You fucking son of a bitch,” I growled, launching myself at Hendrick, my fist connecting with his jaw. His head snapped back, but while the alcohol in Drix’s system stole his coordination, it made up for it in pain tolerance. He barely stumbled back before he was springing forward again, tackling me around the waist and taking me down onto the dirty club floor. I dodged his swinging fist, because it was sloppy, and leaned up, headbutting him in the face.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aviva running off and Evan wading through the crowd toward me. “No! Go after her,” I shouted, as Drix roared, spattering blood on me. I didn’t have time to see if Evan listened or ignored me.

  I rolled Drix onto his back, and slapped him hard. Honestly, nothing shocked a man like being bitch-slapped. “You fucking idiot,” I yelled in his face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  He slumped back to the floor, and that was when I realized he was fucking manic. Bloody and manic on the dirty dancefloor, with hundreds of people watching the spectacle.

  “It’s for the best,” he said, his eyes glazed and far away. “She deserves so much better than us, Sampson. Can’t you see that? Don’t you understand?”

  I climbed off him, sick to my stomach. “No, Drix. You don’t understand. You’re so fucking wrong, and now you’ve fucked it up for all of us, asshole.”

  Otto had appeared in the circle, his worried eyes bouncing between us. I climbed to my feet, nursing my aching face, but I didn’t look nearly as shit as Hendrick. Elle, the girl, stared between us all, horrified, while Firth looked on like this was the most entertaining thing he’d seen in forever. I was surprised he wasn’t filming it.

  I walked toward Otto, angry, sad and nearly sick to my stomach. “Clean him up. I’m going to find Aviva.”

  Otto nodded, as the crowd went back to dancing, like they hadn’t just witnessed the disintegration of something that had nearly been perfect.

  Chapter 36

  Aviva

  I ran out of that club with the burn of Hendrick’s words still coating my skin. Pushing past the bouncers and people hanging around the front of the club, I turned back toward the bay. I knew if I followed the water toward the Ferris wheel, I’d eventually make it to the hotel. I didn’t have the key, but I’d figure that out when I got there. Maybe they’d have another room so I could have some space and just breathe.

  I wished I was wearing my Converse instead of these stupid heels, but I’d wanted to impress them. Impress Hendrick. I suddenly realized I was crying when the tears cooled rapidly on my cheeks, the wind from the water chilly this late at night. I nearly tripped again, growling at my stupid shoes that probably cost more than my car back home. Leaning down, I slipped them from my feet. Yokohama was fastidiously clean; I’d take my chances that I wouldn’t step on anything terrible. Finally able to run, I took off again, my hair loosening from the tight curls to fly out behind me. I ran until the tears flowed into my ears and down my neck.

  “Aviva, wait!” I stumbled at the shout, straightening only to see Evan coming up behind me.

  “Leave me alone, Evan. I want to be alone.”

  He caught up to me easily, basically because he wasn’t running in a bodycon dress barefoot, and his stride was twice as long as mine. He grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. “I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

  I huffed, because I did feel better with him here, despite my words. And he hadn’t done anything to me, not really. “Fine. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

  He grunted. “What part of my personality makes you think I’m a talker? Bottle that shit up, Chaos.”

  “Why do you call me Chaos?”

  He was staring at my bare feet with distaste. “That’s what I call you in my reports. All of the guys have code names, and that’s the one that fits you best.”

  A surprised giggle broke past my lips, but then I remembered Hendrick’s sneer as he basically called me a whore. Every sliver of mirth left me in an instant. I didn’t want to go back there. Didn’t want to sleep in a suite with the guys. I was so hurt, because Hendrick had been right. I did expect him to wait for me, yet I was fucking both of his friends. We weren’t in a relationship, so what right did I have? From what he said, that had never been his endgame anyway. Just a warm hole, like all those other girls. I was so fucking stupid, thinking I was different. Just like the rest of them.

  But that didn’t change the fact that watching him dance with that girl had made jealousy course through my veins like acid.

  “Probably apt,” was all I said as I walked along the promenade. I still wanted to run, but my blood had cooled. “Do you have a room in the hotel?” He nodded. “Are you sharing?”

  He shook his head. “Yolanda and Steven are married. They share a room.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “They’re married? But I thought they hated each other.” They sniped constantly, always trying to one up each other.

  Evan shrugged. “Love is weird.”

  “A-fucking-men,” I grumbled.

  We were silent again, watching the people wandering through the street merrily, and the odd fight breaking out on grassed areas. Made sense. No one wanted gravel rash, even if you were drunk off your ass.

  “Do you love them, then?”

&n
bsp; I stiffened. “I thought you weren’t a talker?”

  He looked at me with his soft brown eyes that shone with the bright neon lights of the Cosmo wheel. “Just a yes or no question.”

  “No,” I said automatically. While the look on his face said I was full of shit, he didn’t contradict me. “Can I stay in your room tonight?”

  He hesitated, but nodded. “I’ll have to tell Sampson where you are.”

  I wanted to say no, but stressing out Sampson would be punishing the wrong person. “Okay. But tell him I want space.”

  He nodded again, but didn’t move to grab his phone. Instead, he was looking at the footpath in front of us. “Someone smashed a bottle. Put your shoes back on.”

  I winced, finally feeling the blister bubbling up on the ball of my left foot. “Can we go around? I don’t wear heels enough, especially not brand new ones and, well…” I lifted my foot and showed him the big blister brewing. He heaved an inconvenienced sigh and came to stand beside me, squatting down awkwardly, while I stared. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Get on my back, Chaos. Fuck me, how have you survived this many years?”

  Part of me wanted to be indignant, but the other part of me hadn’t had a piggyback ride since I was six. I took a bit of a run up and leapt onto his back. He caught me easily, his hands under my thighs. I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, trying to ignore the fact that the world could probably see the bottom of my asscheeks.

  “If you don’t want me to moon the entire city, we might want to make this quick.”

  “Hang on,” he said, and started to jog. I wrapped myself around him like a backpack, clinging tightly. I pressed my cheek between his shoulders, the burn of the alcohol in my system starting to wear off, and sadness rushing up to fill the void.

  I should’ve known better than to think that Hendrick was actually beginning to like me. I felt so fucking stupid for forgetting who he was for a moment. For forgetting that he was a selfish, spoiled, rich boy who was used to getting what he wanted, and I was just the last in a long line of girls who thought they were changing him.