by Linnea May
Maybe I should ask Elene? Our contact has been pretty much nonexistent since the wedding, and even though it would stand to reason to blame her, the newlywed for this, it’s mostly my fault. Elene and Damon haven’t left for their honeymoon yet, and while I know that she’s quite busy with school at the moment, there would have been ample time to meet up with her like we used to. But then I would also have to tell her about Kade. I’m a terrible liar when it comes to my sister; I probably wouldn’t even have to tell her anything if we met up, because she’d be able to read it on my face. And then she would ask about it—and it would be impossible for me to lie to her.
I put my phone away, casting another angry glare at it before turning around to check myself in the mirror. I don’t have much time left. Kade is coming to pick me up in less than ten minutes, and the last thing I want on my mind when I’m out on a date with him is my annoying ex-fiancé.
Why now? Why did he start messaging me now? Is it pure coincidence, or did he really talk to my mother? Or Elene? No, that’s unlikely. They were never close, and if anyone from my family understands my decision to leave Jim, it would be her. She never said anything bad about him, but I could tell she didn’t think much of him. He was too boring, too nice, too normal for her taste.
And now I agree with that assessment.
I’ve changed. Something inside me has changed, or woken up. I don’t know which one comes closer to the truth. It’s like this thirst for adventure, for explosive and dangerous pleasure, has always been there, sleeping in a cocoon like a caterpillar that’s now found its awakening as a butterfly.
A butterfly that still needs to learn how to use its wings.
Jim would never understand. He would be appalled.
But Kade…
Kade is teaching me how to fly.
I can’t help but giggle as I catch my reflection in the mirror. At first glance, the girl staring back at me still looks familiar. She’s still the same Lila I was a few weeks ago.
But she looks more awake, somehow younger and refreshed.
Happier.
Yes, that’s it. I’m happier.
I smile as if to confirm my silent assessment, then take a step back, surveying myself one last time before I’m ready to head outside. He didn’t give me any orders on how to dress tonight, which left me a little lost, I have to admit. It’s been a while since I’ve dressed up for a date, and I’ve never had to prepare for dates like the kind I’m experiencing with Kade. I almost wanted to ask him to give me a guideline, to tell me what to wear, but I didn’t dare.
Maybe this was the whole point for him. To give me something to work on, to find out how to please him without his help.
Either way, I hope my choice won’t disappoint him. I opted for a light summer dress in a dark red color that should go well with our room.
Our room.
What am I even saying? We’ve only been to the red velvet room once, but I’m already calling it ours. There’s no ours, just him and me, a casual encounter that doesn’t entail a lasting tie or even a promise for such.
I shake my head, casting the thoughts aside as my attention drifts back to what’s hiding beneath my dress. I’m wearing a new set of black lingerie: a tiny thong, a laced garter belt with matching stockings—and no bra. I liked the way the fabric of my dress pressed against my nipples during our last date, and I wanted to recreate that feeling tonight. It’s different, though, because my red summer dress is loose compared to my last outfit and the summery fiber brushes against my tits every time I move, teasing and tickling instead of pressing against them.
It feels so naughty to go out like this.
And so exciting.
I take a deep breath, fixing a few strands of my hair for the umpteenth time, when my phone rings, bringing me back to a place I don’t want to be.
An annoyed growl escapes me when I see his name on the display. I told him not to call me, which is why he’s relied on text messages until now. But Jim wouldn’t be Jim if he just let it go and waited patiently for me to respond to his inquiries. He’s always been impatient and demanding in his own way.
I stare at the display, pondering whether I should pick up and tell him to leave me alone. That would probably be the easiest way to get my peace. As demanding as he is, Jim is also keen on acting proper and accepts a no when it’s directed at him.
It would also be the mature way of handling things.
Nevertheless, I opt for the chicken way out and reject his call.
Of course, Jim doesn’t stand for that. The moment I turn around to shove my phone inside my purse, it rings again.
That’s what I get for not putting it on silent mode when I should have.
An exasperated sigh leaves my lips just before I decide to face his unwanted attention.
“What is it?”
I didn’t mean to greet him like that, bitchy and dismissive, but the words are out before I can stop myself.
“Oh, you’re alive!” he exclaims, sounding relieved. “I was beginning to worry.”
Oh for God’s sake. I roll my eyes at his blatant lie and choose to respond with a white lie of my own.
“Of course I’m alive, Jim. I’ve been busy. Still am.”
“Too busy to answer any of my messages?”
I bite my lower lip. Do I really have to spell it out to him? How can he not get there by himself? Isn’t it obvious that I simply don’t want to talk to him?
“There are other reasons to ignore a person’s messages,” I tell him. “I told you not to contact me for a while. Why are you making this harder than it has to be?”
He huffs. “Harder than it has to be? I don’t think this could be any harder than it already is for me.”
I squint as if in pain. His words affect me more than I’d like to admit, and my anger is quickly replaced by pity. Of course this is a lot harder for him than it is for me, and me giving him the cold shoulder doesn’t exactly help.
“I’m… sorry, but Jim, I told you it’s over and—”
“Yes, fine! I got that! But as I’ve mentioned in my numerous messages to you, I still have some stuff at our place that I would like to pick up.”
My eyes widen in surprise. It’s true that he mentioned something along those lines in his texts, but I figured it was just an excuse for him to hear back from me when I was unwilling to communicate with him.
“I thought you wanted to keep that stuff here until you found your own place? Aren’t you staying with your dad right now?”
“I am, but not for long,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’ll be moving soon. I found a place, and I want my stuff.”
Now he’s the one sounding like an asshole. There’s a condescending tone in his voice that’s new to me, clearly born from pain.
“Okay, cool, th-that sounds… great,” I stutter, unsure how I feel about it. Is he lying to me? Is he just trying to hurt me?
Why would it even hurt me to hear that he found his own place? I wanted him to move on, and now it sounds like that’s what he’s doing.
“Well yes, it is great,” Jim cuts into my pondering. “So, when can I come by to get it?”
I remember the time just when he finishes his question.
Kade!
He must be waiting downstairs already.
Shit!
“I’m sorry, but can we talk about this later?” I press, grabbing my purse as I head for the door, my heels echoing through the hallway. “I have to go now.”
“What? Go where? Can’t we just—”
“Not now. I’ll call you!”
And with that, I hang up on him. I’ll admit, it wasn’t the classiest move of my life, but I hate being late, especially for Kade. He doesn’t deserve to wait down there like an idiot just because I have to bear with my ex’s troubles.
It’s bad enough that Jim’s voice is still resonating in my head as I hurry down the stairs, taking my bad conscience with me.
Chapter 19
Kade
> “That’s a pretty dress.”
She looks at me, her eyes bright and sparkling with beautiful pride upon receiving the compliment as I hold the door open for her to enter the building.
She’s smiling, casting me coy looks as a blush blossoms on her cheeks. “Thank you.”
“I want you to take it off.”
Her expression changes within an instant, her eyes widening in surprise with a hint of disappointment blending in.
“Now? Here?”
Her eyes flit around the small lobby, finding the private changing rooms with lockers to our left.
“Here is fine,” I tell her as she turns toward the changing rooms. “I’ll hold on to your dress while we’re here.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, looking at me as if I’d just suggested for her to jump off a cliff.
“You want me to just… take off my dress? Now?”
I nod, crossing my arms in front of my chest while she keeps turning her head. A young woman sits behind the reception at the other end of the lobby, dressed in a tight-fitting black dress with her hair pulled up in a stern bun at the back of her head. She smiled at us when we first arrived but turned her head away discreetly once she realized we don’t need her help. She’s only here for guidance after the doorman conducts the initial check and decides who’s allowed inside.
Lila’s eyes rest on her for a few seconds too long, and the girl looks up from her desk, tilting her head in question.
“Now,” I urge on a whisper not audible to the receptionist. “Right here and now. You have thirty seconds.”
The gasps that flees her lips is the sweetest sound imaginable. I like shocking innocent little girls like her, especially when I know she’ll obey. She will obey, And she’ll fucking love it.
She’d already proved to be a good little slut a few days ago when I asked her to take a picture of her beat-up ass while she was at work. The time limit was just to get a move on things. If she’d fought me on the demand or pestered me with questions for too long, then she wouldn’t be fun to play with.
This, however, is a lot of fun. I can almost see her counting the seconds as she stares at me, the color on her cheeks darkening with every moment that passes.
“Fifteen seconds.”
I have no idea if that matches her silent counting, but it doesn’t matter. I can tell by the dazed but shocked expression on her face that she’s exactly where I want her. She’s already in the zone, whether she knows it or not.
And she proves me right by reaching down to the hem of her almost knee-length dress. Her eyes never leave mine while she slowly starts pulling her dress up, moving in slow motion even though she must know she can’t afford to dawdle.
“Five seconds, Lila.”
She presses her lips into a thin line, a crease appearing between her eyebrows as an expression of utmost focus and determination shows on her pretty face. I’m just about to warn her that her time is running out when she pulls the dress over her head in one surprisingly quick motion, revealing the most delicious view underneath. Black see-through stockings are held up by black garters attached to a laced garter belt, encircling her hips above a tiny thong. Her tits are bare, her nipples suspiciously erect.
“Good girl.”
I can tell she wants to cover her nakedness, and I bet it’s no coincidence that she’s turned her back to the receptionist.
“Turn for me.”
She’s quicker in following my demand now, but closes her eyes as she obliges. She slowly turns, realizing it’s her perky ass I want to survey. Much to my disappointment, the marks I left on her a few days ago are no longer visible. It’s no surprise, as they were faint to begin with, because I was gentle with her that night.
Tonight will be different.
“Look at me.”
She turns back, hugging the dress close to her chest. A shy smile tugs at the corners of her mouth when our eyes meet.
I stretch out my hand. “Give it to me.”
She hesitates for a moment before she hands me her dress. “When will I get it back?”
Her voice secretes hope, but if she thought this was just a test and I’d give her the dress right back before we walked into the main area of The Velvet Rooms, where everyone could see her, she couldn’t be more wrong.
“When we’re done.”
She swallows dryly at my response. The nod that follows expresses helplessness, her gaze falling and her shoulders moving up to her ears as she hugs herself.
“Relax.” I reach for her upper arm and pull it away from her body, forcing her to open up and leave her tits exposed. “You’re mine tonight, and I want to show you off.”
Another smile scurries across her face, her lashes fluttering nervously as she looks up at me. “I’m just—”
“You’re fucking sexy, Lila.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders in a manner that’s protective as much as it’s possessive. “So beautiful, so noble and innocent. And I’m the only one who’s allowed to corrupt you.”
She leans into my hug, her breathing more rapid than it was just a moment ago.
“You’re very charming,” she whispers while I escort her to the thick curtain that leads into the main room. “No one has ever talked about me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m hot… desirable.”
The sadness in her voice is like a fucking dagger jammed through my chest. What kind of wimps has she been dating if she’s never been treated like the pretty doll she is? The ignorance of these guys makes my blood boil.
We step through the curtain, and I feel her relax under my arm. There are only a handful of guests scattered across the room, and most of them are busy with one or two girls of their own. I notice I’m the only one who brought his own date, as all the other guests are surrounded by girls who work here.
“Let’s sit at the bar this time.”
My suggestion is met with another aghast look from her side, but she doesn’t fight me on it. She doesn’t have to tell me that hiding in the dark would be a lot easier in her current getup, but easy isn’t what this is about.
She refrains from shielding her naked breasts when we sit on the high chairs at the bar, but I can tell it takes a lot of effort.
The guy working behind the bar doesn’t bat an eye at her appearance when he greets us with a polite smile.
“Evening,” he says, looking at her first before he turns to me. “What can I serve you tonight?”
I cast Lila a questioning look and am not surprised to find her shrugging. “I really liked the wine.”
I nod, turning back to the bartender. “I recall you have a pretty decent Faiveley Corton Charlemagne Grand Cru.”
“The 2012? Of course, sir.”
I can’t deny that the look Lila is giving me now is satisfying as fuck.
“You remembered the name? Color me impressed.”
I nod, granting her a confident smile that hides a lie. Of course I didn’t remember the fucking name of the wine we had last time. I’ve been visiting this establishment for almost as long as it exists, and I’ve used every part of their service from the very beginning. That includes a personal file where they note the drinks I’ve consumed so I can stock up my own house bar if I ever encounter a specific bourbon or wine that leaves an impression on me.
Or to impress unsuspecting little girls like Lila with my formidable memory.
After all, it never hurts to impress.
Chapter 20
Kade
She relaxes with every sip that touches her lips, and while I enjoy watching her growing comfortable with her sexy nakedness, I also notice that she’s not quite here. Her mind appears to be somewhere else, always drifting off, away from me, away from our surroundings and to a place I don’t want her to be.
Something is troubling her, and it has very little to do with the fact that I made her take off her dress and sit at the bar quasi-naked.
“Where are you?”
My question startles
her, and it’s like she’s waking up from a trance when she jerks up to look back at me.
“Here,” she states the obvious. “I’m here. With you, sir.”
Sir. She’s learning faster than I expected. But she’s not saying the truth.
“No you’re not. You’re somewhere far, far away, little girl,” I object. “Does it have anything to do with the reason why you were late?”
The look on her face tells me I’m right, and I hate that she’s shaking her head, despite it being so obvious.
I’m not letting her get away so easily. “Tell me.”
She sighs, and I prevent her taking another sip of her wine by placing my hand on her lower arm as she reaches for the glass.
“Talk first, drink later.”
She frowns at me. “You really like that one, don’t you?”
“Don’t get snappy with me, little girl. You don’t want me to be angry when we go upstairs later.”
“Fine,” she says, withdrawing her hand from the bar. “If you must know, my ex called just before you picked me up.”
Her facial expression is as hard as her voice, showing nothing but lingering resentment toward the guy she almost married. I hate how much this is troubling her. If she was really over the guy, she wouldn’t react in such a strong way to a simple phone call. Unless he said something that stirred her up.
“What did he want?” I ask, trying to sound more nonchalant than I truly feel about this. “Did he say anything to provoke you?”
She shakes her head. “No, not really. It’s not like that.”
“What is it, then?”
She throws me a look that can only be described as annoyed, her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed.
“He said he found a new place to live, and he wants to come by to pick up his stuff that’s still at our apartment,” she retorts. “My apartment, I mean. It’s always been my place.”
“That’s a good thing, though, isn’t it?”
She nods, but I can tell she’s only partly agreeing with me.
“I guess. Yeah, it should be a good thing.” She shakes her head, as if saying the words out loud won’t change the fact that she’s not entirely cool with it. “I don’t know why I’m even thinking about it, or why I’m feeling like… I don’t know.”
