by J. J. Sorel
By radiating a calm, nonjudgmental manner, Blake managed to soothe me.
“You’ll have to tell me about your life growing up, Blake. It seems hardly fair that you know all about mine.”
“I don’t know about your father.”
“Nor do I.” My dryness reflected my lack of emotion on that subject.
He studied me. A line deepened between his dark eyebrows. “I take it you don’t know who your father was?”
I shook my head.
“Sometimes that’s not a bad thing,” he murmured as if to himself.
“Why would you say that?”
“This is a big topic. The father topic. Let’s leave that for some other time. And I have a therapy session starting.” He glanced down at his gold watch. “I need to go. You can stay, if you like, and think of how you’d like to furnish it.”
“No. I’ll catch a ride with you. I’m meeting Lilly. We have some shopping to do. Our rich boyfriends have invited us to a ball.” I smiled brightly for the first time since stepping into that house, which I’d accepted with open arms, having fallen in love with it.
He placed his arm around my shoulders and drew me in tight. “Something red and not too low in the cleavage area.”
“Huh?” I turned to look at him with a glint of mischief. “I thought I might go for the whole slut look. You know, high split, low neckline, no panties.” I lifted my eyebrow.
He pinned me gently against the wall and kissed me. His hand went under my skirt, and his fingers traveled up to my panties. “That makes me want to fuck you.”
“So, you approve of that kind of dress?”
“No. Only for me. In the bedroom. A slut. Out in the world, you’re the pinnacle of modesty and taste.”
I unclasped myself from his arms and cast him a challenging smirk. “You’re bossy.”
“Mm… and you feel hot.” His hands squeezed my ass. “I have to go.” He looked at me with those bedroom eyes. “I could cancel.”
Shaking my head, I said, “No. This is good. I want to sleep with you in my arms. I need that.”
He removed a stray strand of hair from my face and kissed me tenderly. “I’d like that, too.”
Following a session of indecent fondling in the back of his limousine, leaving me hot and swollen, Blake dropped me off to meet Lilly.
A mixture of excitement at the prospect of shopping for gowns and something deeper pushed me along. I felt in my bag, and the keys with an angel key ring fell into my hand.
Sheldon’s sweet face lit up my phone. “Hey, Shelly.”
“Penny, where have you been hiding? We’ve got a lecture on the neo-classical movement happening right now. Where are you?”
“Shit. I forgot all about it. I thought that was next week.” I huffed. I loved that period of art. How could I have forgotten? “Okay. I’ll jump in a cab. Thanks for reminding me. I’ll see you.”
“You’ve missed half of the lecture.”
“Shit. Can I look over your notes?”
“Sure. If you can make out my silly doodles and the odd scribbled thoughts.”
I laughed. “I’ll see you later. We’ll have dinner.”
“Sure. I miss you, Penny. Mr. Rich and Powerful has kidnapped you.”
“I’ll see you later at Soho, around seven. I’m shopping for a gown. I’m off to the masquerade ball.” A bubble of excitement entered my words.
“Oh… the Doge’s Ball?”
“Uh-huh.”
He screamed. “Oh my God. I want photos. Lots of them. That’s the ball to attend before dying.”
I laughed. “I need to find a designer gown and a mask.”
“We’ll study some images of the Venice festival tonight. I can’t wait. I love masks.”
“Me too.” I smiled. “See you soon, sweetie.”
I ran into the café and found Lilly looking pale, holding a glass of wine.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. I’m used to you. You’re always late.” She raised an eyebrow.
I ordered a coffee to go. “You’re starting early.” I pointed at her glass.
“Oh, Penny.” Her voice trembled.
“Shit. What’s happened?”
“He’s stalking me again.” She bit her lip.
“Crap. Has he approached you?”
She nodded. “He wants to see me. He was nice about it. I pleaded with him to leave me alone.”
“What about James?”
“He knows. He’s a little shaky about it too.”
“Has this Alex threatened him?”
She shook her head. “No. But if he follows me to James’s house, which is where I am most of the time, who knows what he might do.”
The waiter delivered my coffee. I nodded thanks.
“Don’t worry, Lil, we’ll make sure nothing happens.” I touched her hand and gave a reassuring smile. “Come on. Let’s go shopping for the ball.”
She finished her wine in one gulp. “I can’t wait. I just wish fatso would go away.”
Shopping soon proved to be more a trial than fun. We found ourselves dealing with apathetic shop assistants acting all superior. They saw us as lower-class girls wasting their time.
But then Lilly blurted that we needed something for the Doge Ball that our rich lovers had invited us to. After that, the salesgirl almost jumped out of her skin to help us. I was tempted to give her the finger, but the gowns were too gorgeous to ignore.
Lilly settled for a blue dress with a low neckline and a split up the thigh, while I went for one that had a scooping neckline, after Lilly encouraged me to show off my assets. I wondered if I should send Blake a photo but decided against it, since it would only feed his need for control.
The tulip-shaped dress cascaded in fine silk to my feet. Its vibrant red made me sigh.
“Oh, Penny, that’s so you. It’s gorgeous,” crooned Lilly.
“The price tag ain’t gorgeous at five thousand pounds.”
“Don’t worry about it. Hasn’t Blake given you a limitless credit card?”
“I didn’t take it.”
The shop assistant, who was within earshot, mirrored Lilly’s shock.
“Then you’re crazy. He’s loaded.”
“He bought me a house.”
Lilly’s face scrunched. “You’re fucking kidding me.”
I nodded. “Uh-huh. In Paddington. A terrace. Two stories. A view of the park.”
I turned to the assistant, who stood close by. “I’ll take it.”
When we walked out onto the street with parcels in hand, Lilly asked, “So is your mother moving in?”
“I’m going to rent her an apartment. Away from the estate.”
“She won’t want to move,” said Lilly.
I shrugged. “Maybe not.” I stopped walking. “But I’ve got to get on with my life. I can paint there. And it’s within walking distance of college. And I’ll finally get away from that slum we’ve called home all of our lives.”
“Living with your rich, oversexed boyfriend?” She raised a brow.
“He won’t live there. It’s too soon. And he doesn’t do relationships.”
“From where I’m standing, it looks like a relationship.”
That buoyed me. “I’ll be a kept woman, I suppose.” I stopped walking. “Do you think that’s wrong?”
“No fucking way. I think it’s brilliant. You’re beautiful, talented, and a good person. Go, sister.” She stood there with her hands on her hips.
I hugged her. “Thanks, Lil.” I checked the time. “I promised to meet Shelly for dinner. Crap.”
Lilly laughed. “I’m sure he’s used to it.” She hailed a cab. “Do you want to share a cab? I can drop you off at Soho.”
We hailed a taxi, and ten minutes later I was at Sheldon’s.
I let myself in and found him in the kitchen, eating pasta.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“There’s some in the pot for you, sweetie.”
I went o
ver and had a sniff. The delicious saucy aroma made my tummy rumble. “Yum.”
“Have it all. I’m full.”
“You’re such a darling. Thanks.”
After I finished a big plate of pasta, which had me guilting over calories, we headed to the internet to study masks.
“I like the stick mask,” said Sheldon.
“Mm. I like the lacy black one.”
He nodded. “Sexy.” He brought up an image of Venice, where the Grand Canal had a parade of masked and caped characters.
“That is so surreal and seriously beautiful. I want to paint those figures.”
“Many have,” said Shelly, leaning on his elbows. “They’re so enchanting. I’m in love. Let’s go to Venice.”
I smiled at his contagious enthusiasm.
“I think I’ll settle for a black lace number. Simple but sexy. It will go with my new gown.”
Sheldon looked over at my shopping bags, which I’d left on the armchair.
“Oh, do please show.”
I sprang up and opened the box, lifting the red silk gown out of the tissue paper.
“Oh my…” He covered his mouth with his hand. “It’s so Rita Hayworth. It’s gorgeous.”
I placed it in front of me.
“I’ll want pictures, darling.”
I giggled. “A black lace mask will work with that, don’t you think?”
“Definitely. What are you doing with your hair?”
“A stacked bun, I think.”
“That will work. You’ve got a lovely long neck.”
Falling onto the couch, I looked up at him and tears welled up.
“What’s wrong, Penny?”
“He bought me a house.”
“Huh?” His brow pinched. “Fuck. That’s serious. Has he asked you to marry him?”
I shook my head and sniffled. “I wouldn’t anyhow. It’s too soon, and he’s got a few issues.”
“Mm… don’t they all, darling.”
Sheldon poured me a glass of wine. “So, what are the issues?”
“He can’t sleep with me.”
“But you’re having sex, aren’t you?” he asked. “Oh, please tell me he’s really gay.”
I laughed. “No. He’s seriously straight. I meant we sleep separately.”
His mouth stretched into a grimace. “Ouch. I know how that feels, only my lover leaves the house in the middle of the night. I even suggested he wear a balaclava.” He giggled but then went straight-faced again. “Is he having nightmares?”
I nodded. “He’s worried he may hurt me. He thrashes about.”
“Off to a shrink for him.”
“I made him promise me that he’d work on it.”
“And is he?”
“He actually had his first therapy session today.”
Just then my phone buzzed, and we both jumped. I looked down at the screen. It was Blake. “Talk of the devil.”
A shiver ran down my spine at the synchronicity. It wasn’t the only time that had happened. Often when I spoke of him, or even thought of him, he’d call.
“You’re in sync. A sign of true love,” said Sheldon.
I smiled and all the concern of Blake’s issues faded away. All I felt was a burning need to have his hands all over me.
The message read: Where are you?
I replied: At Sheldon’s house.
Can we meet? Tonight?
I looked up at Sheldon.
“He wants to see you?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Let me guess—this is every night so far?”
I nodded again, taking a deep breath. My body was dying to be crushed by Blake’s strong manly body. I was just as addicted as he was.
31
* * *
BLAKE
PENELOPE PERFORMED A SLOW pirouette. The red gown floated in the air and cascaded against her curvy figure like a dream. Her almond-shaped eyes smiled, encased in a black lace mask.
“You look beautiful.” I took her into my arms. “It’s an exquisite gown. A little low-cut.” My finger traced her milky soft cleavage, which prickled against my palm, and traveled to her spiked nipples.
My cock jerked against my fitted tux pants as I pressed against her.
She giggled. “Blake, we probably should go. And it took me ages to dress.”
I ran my hand up her leg to her stockings and above to the naked thigh. “I look forward to seeing you in your garter later on.” I pinched her ass and finished with a visit to her wet cunt. “Penelope.”
A smile touched her beautiful pout. “Yes.”
“You’re deliciously wet.”
“That’s because of the way you’re touching me, and seeing you in that tux isn’t helping.”
I laughed. It was the lightest I’d been all day.
The day hadn’t started so well, though. I’d had a meeting with Peter Barnes, who informed me that Tatiana was indeed working for Dylan again, just as we’d suspected.
“What would have motivated that?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “Maybe it’s all she knows.”
“But she seemed determined to start afresh.”
“Some of the girls haven’t known anything else. Maybe the shelter, with its bare essentials, put her off. I imagine the girls are lavished with gifts and eat well in return for their services.” His eyebrows rose.
“If I’m to take Fox down, I need her to testify.”
Barnes studied me. “You know that’s close to impossible, don’t you? Some of his clients are very powerful men. All with a predilection for young flesh.”
“Pedophiles, you mean?”
He nodded mechanically. “There’s an island owned by a reclusive billionaire, somewhere off Spain. Called Lolita.”
I sniffed. “How original.”
He smiled at my sarcasm. “I’m afraid this ring’s impenetrable. It would take a very brave individual to bring them down.”
“Keep digging anyway.” I pulled out an envelope filled with cash. “Here.”
He stuffed it in his pocket without counting it. “Thanks. I’ll see what more I can find out.”
* * *
PATRICK OPENED THE CAR door for Penelope, and she slipped in gracefully. I joined her, and sat close.
The night was clear and balmy. I stroked her long neck, and reached into my lapel for a small box.
“Here.” I handed it to her. “Something to go with that lovely gown.”
She looked down at the box and then at me, frowning. “Haven’t you already given me everything?”
“I’m rich. Open the box.” I pointed at it.
She lifted the velvet ribbon with a teardrop diamond pendant attached. “It’s stunning. I love the simplicity of the choker. It’s so Victorian and feminine.”
“Yes, it’s very sexy. I’m not into fussy jewelry.” I took the diamond choker from her. “Here, let me tie it on.”
She turned around, and I knotted the velvet ribbon, placing a finger inside to make sure it wasn’t too tight. She turned around and smiled shyly. Her vulnerability touched me as I looked from her neck to her big limpid eyes.
I held her. “You’re an exquisite creature.”
She pulled away and looked at me. “Is it a diamond?”
“I wouldn’t buy a fake.”
“It must have cost you a fortune.”
“Money is there for beauty. That’s my motto in life. Take it and enjoy. Only don’t wear it when visiting your mother.”
Her eyes darkened. “I’ll give it back to you after the ball, if you like.”
I lifted my hands. “Please don’t take offense. I was referring to the people that hang around that place.”
“Thanks to your generosity, I can use the money from the paintings to rent her an apartment away from there.”
“I can help if you like.”
A sad smile touched her painted lips. “Blake, you’ve already done so much.”
I placed my arm around her waist and breathed
in her fragrant soft hair.
The grounds were lit in purples and reds projecting onto the overtly ornamental Baroque palace.
“It looks like a big wedding cake,” said Penelope as I helped her out of the car.
“If one goes for eating bricks,” I replied dryly.
Penelope giggled while adjusting her mask. “How’s that?”
“Striking,” I answered, removing the leather mask from my lapel.
“Yours is so simple,” said Penelope, sounding disappointed.
“I’m not into ostentation.” I held her hand, and we entered the grounds guarded by men in livery.
The chandeliers dazzled, and the regal ballroom was filled with the usual lords, ladies, and offspring. As a nod to the Venice festival, the ball, as always, showcased Baroque music.
“It’s so old world,” said Penelope, taking a glass of champagne from a tray.
“A bit stuffy. But an attractive building.”
She glanced up at the fresco of a bacchanalian romp. “Oh my, that’s gorgeous.”
“Penny!” came a voice from behind.
We turned, and there stood Lilly, holding James’s hand.
James came up to me. “Blake, old man. Look at you.” He turned and acknowledged Penelope. “And look at you. You’re both going to win the Gorgeous-Couple-of-the-Night award, I think. You’re sure to make front cover of Hello.”
I smiled at Lilly. “Blue’s your color.”
She said, “Thanks” and then directed her attention to Penelope, touching the diamond at her throat. “This is gorgeous, Penny.”
Penelope glanced over at me, smiling widely. Her excitement brought a smile to my face.
“Back in a minute. Off to the girl’s room,” she said.
I indulged in Penelope’s effortless beauty as she glided off, arm in arm with Lilly. She had the admiration of the males she passed. Penelope’s natural elegance confirmed my belief that grace was innate and not something one could learn or only possess with money.
We had our own admirers, too, with the usual cohort of wealthy daughters ogling us. I wasn’t fooled by those expensive gowns and rounded vowels. Those girls showed no qualms about getting down and dirty with any rich stranger who took their fancy.
“Oh, if it isn’t Blake Sinclair,” I heard over my shoulder as a waft of Chanel No. 5 drifted my way.
