Blue Velvet

by Linnea May

  12

  Rowan

  We both need a bit to come down from our highs. Her hand is resting on my chest while she lies next to me, panting and with the blindfold still wrapped around her head. She doesn’t give any indication that it bothers her. Instead, she seems to appreciate the blindness that shields her from the outside for a few more moments. And just like me, she cherishes the silence that covers us like a protective blanket.

  I’ve never been a man of many words, and I’ve never enjoyed the ruckus of masses and parties like most others do at our young age. Losing part of my hearing was as much of a blessing as it was a punishment for what I’ve done. The quiet has never bothered me, but I’ve always felt alone with this appreciation, seeing as most people try their best to cover the silence. Music and chatter are omnipresent wherever you go and whoever you are with. I don’t think I’ve ever laid in silence with anyone for this long.

  And she’s not even bothered by it. It’s not like I told her to be quiet as I’ve done with many other girls before. She doesn’t pout or bite her lips, fighting to stop herself from speaking. She just lies there, the heaving of her chest slowing as she relaxes. She’s lying on her back, the back of her hand tickling my ribs as it meets the tanned skin.

  This is a first. Just lying here, not feeling forced to speak or having to make another shut up. She doesn’t just endure tranquility; she seeks it as much as I do.

  I lift my eyes to the ceiling, squinting in the darkness.

  Like we’re underwater.

  Subdued noise, subdued vision—but the rapture was as loud as they come. I’ve never come like that in my life. My lust has always been furious and wild, taking no hostages as I ride toward release but killing everything in its wake.

  I never climaxed while following a slow rhythm like the one she set while riding my cock. There was no hurry, no raging beast tearing the world apart. It was just ... pleasure. Bliss. Heaven.

  For God’s sake. I feel like an idiot for even thinking these words.

  It was a good fuck. A good orgasm. Don’t make such a big fucking deal out of it.

  Maybe this is the reason people prefer to avoid silence. Because nothing stops undue and idiotic thoughts like this from creeping up on you if your mind is not occupied with conversation.

  It’s a good thing she doesn’t hear what’s going through my head right now. Fuck, even I think I’m annoying, but I can’t bring myself to break the silence that embraces us, keeping us safe.

  Her hand leaves my body, and she removes the blindfold before rolling on her side to face me.

  “May I?” she asks, her voice hoarse as she tries to speak quietly without whispering. It’s unusual for me to notice such nuances. This otherwise stock-still room allows for a lot of luxuries I’ve long forgotten about.

  “Take it off?” I ask back. “You already did.”

  Worry darts across her face, but just for a split second before she realizes I’m merely teasing her. She puts the black cloth aside, her dark eyes seeking mine after she rolls around on her belly, supporting herself on the elbows as she looks down at me. Her brown mane is falling down her shoulders in waves after her ponytail loosened from our play.

  “That was quite ... I don’t know ... something,” she stutters, biting her lips as she searches for the right words. It’s reassuring that she struggles with it as much as I did in my head.

  “Agreed,” I say, incapable of giving her more than that.

  Her face beams nonetheless.

  “Really?” she wonders out loud. “You enjoyed yourself, too?”

  I chuckle. “Wasn’t that obvious?”

  I’m sure I’d see her blushing right now if the light allowed for such details to shine through.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was different than what you’re used to,” she mumbles. “I mean, it was calm and ... you know, not like you were when you first—”

  “It’s like we’re underwater,” I interrupt her. “I’ve never had sex underwater, have you?”

  She regards me with confusion; her eyebrows arch and her lips part just the slightest bit as she shakes her head.

  “See, it was new, special,” I tell her. “I’ve never experienced anything like this, but I’m into it.”

  “Into it,” she repeats, adding a little laugh. “Yeah, I’m into it, too.”

  “Good,” I say, copying her position to get face to face. “Because I want to do this again.”

  Her eyes widen as they lock onto mine. “Here? With me?”

  I nod. “Yes. If you’re up for it.”

  Melina smiles, and I can tell she’s trying to come up with a sassy retort, but her brain fails her at this crucial moment. A simple, “Yeah,” is all she can muster, but I’ll fucking take it.

  “Most people like to fuck with music on,” she adds after a few moments. “I never understood why. It’s so distracting.”

  “And loud,” I add. “Fuck all that noise.”

  She laughs as she nods in agreement. “It’s rare to find someone who agrees. Usually, people just give me a weird look when I say that.”

  “I’ve never cared for loud noises, loud music even,” I share. “When I was still subjected to it, I mean.”

  The expression on her face turns serious.

  “What do you not like about it?” she asks. “I mean ... if there’s anything you could—”

  “I don’t like the effect it has on me,” I reply truthfully. “It makes me do things I’d rather not do. In a way, this loss of hearing saves me a lot of trouble.”

  She presses her lips together, her mind visibly rattling as she drafts a question she’s unsure about. I love to see her struggle even though I know it will likely end in another inquiry I won’t be willing to answer to her full satisfaction.

  “You said it happened during deployment?” she asks, awaiting my nod before she adds, “How long ago was that?”

  My eyebrows furrow as I try to remember. How long has it been? Three years? Four? I’ve been so busy trying to forget, pushing the torturous memories aside every time they threaten to take over because I thought it was the only way for me to get better. I wanted to forget and not rehash what happened over and over as my therapist had suggested.

  “More than three years,” I respond, falling back on an estimate. It could be longer, or it could be shorter. Does it really matter?

  “And did you leave the Army then?” she asks further.

  I huff. “I had to. I was damaged goods.”

  She knits her eyebrows, doubting my words, and she has every reason to. It’s not wrong to say that the incident broke me, but my loss of hearing wasn’t the sole reason for why the Army no longer had a place for me.

  “Do you miss it?” she probes. “I mean, despite what happened ...”

  I need a moment to come up with a reply. Somehow, Melina has a way of asking the exact questions I either evade or have no immediate answer for.

  “I wouldn’t say I miss it,” I say eventually. “The only reason I joined in the first place was to piss off my parents.”

  She looks at me in disbelief. “Why would you do that?”

  “They’ve been pushing their own agenda with me all my life, especially my father, and I didn’t like it,” I tell her. “He’s been trying to groom me as his successor from the moment I learned how to walk. It was fucking annoying not being allowed to choose your own fate. My parents never got that. They never left me the fuck alone. So when I turned eighteen, I saw no other way out than that.”

  I clear my throat, adding a pause and swallowing the rest I want to say. All of this is true, but it’s only part of the story. It doesn’t include the guilt, the regret, the fucking misery I feel every time I think back to that time. The time when my overbearing parents were my biggest concern.

  In the end, I was just a spoiled kid, trying to revolt against something most people would dream of. I was nothing but a stupid and rebellious teenager when I left the home I grew up, not knowing that I was lea
ving behind the most carefree and best time of my life.

  “You know what it’s like,” I utter, as if I was seeking amends. “Parents telling you one thing while you want another, but no one’s listening to you.”

  She sighs as a somber shadow casts over her pretty face.

  “No,” she breathes. “Actually, I don’t know what it’s like.”

  Now I’m the one regarding her with a quizzical expression.

  “I never met my parents. Grew up in foster care,” she explains. “Different parents every few years, and none cared enough to put me under any kind of pressure.”

  Fuck.

  “I’m sorry. I feel like an idiot.”

  My apology causes her to laugh.

  “Don’t,” she says. “You didn’t know.”

  Her eyes trail over her shoulder toward the door as if she is afraid someone might walk in on us. I was so preoccupied with her that I didn’t even think about the fact that we’re not supposed to be up here.

  “We should probably leave. The cleaners won’t be here for a couple of more hours, but I think a security guy makes his rounds at one point throughout the night,” she says, winking at me. “It would be awkward if he found us in here butt naked.”

  A giggle escapes her when I slap her ass. My hand meets her skin with an irritably loud slap, but the burn on my palm doesn’t come close to the one I’m familiar with. It’s a tickle, just a taste of what I can do.

  And she’ll never know. She will never fucking know.

  13

  Melina

  My face loses all color for a horrible second before beginning to glow with the sharp heat of embarrassment. When Sandy told me that Miss Barry expected to see me in her office when I showed up for work tonight, I immediately knew that I was in trouble. Big trouble, even.

  “I didn’t tell her anything!” Sandy assured me, gesturing with her hands even though I never accused her. I know she’s not a blabbermouth, and despite her being the only one who knew about my forbidden session with Rowan last night, I never considered she would be the one to get me in trouble. I know her well enough to trust her on this.

  As it turns out, that trust was justified, as it was not Sandy who told on me. In fact, no one did.

  Miss Barry sits across from me with her arms crossed under her ample chest and a hard expression on her heavily painted face.

  “The security camera caught you.” She answers my unspoken question after having just revealed that she knows about my “little adventure” from last night.

  “Did you really think this was an okay thing to do?” she asks. “And how could you think I wouldn’t find out about it?”

  I avert my eyes from her piercing gaze, bouncing my knee nervously as I try to come up with a response. What can I possibly say? She’s right. It was stupid of me not to even consider this place had security cameras. I doubt there are any upstairs on the second floor due to privacy, but the first floor probably had plenty. Electronic eyes that saw us going up the stairs to the second floor and returning a while later; the happenings of last night all too obvious to anyone who watched the tape.

  “I’m sorry.”

  That’s all I can come up with. A lame apology that speaks of guilt and regret.

  No, not the latter. I don’t regret what I did last night. Not for one second. And when my eyes met Rowan’s on our way out, I could tell he felt the same way. He was the first to say we needed to meet again, adding that he wanted to do so much more with me. My heart still jolts at his words.

  “Sorry doesn’t really cut it, Melina,” Miss Barry snarls, furrowing her eyebrows. “You are aware of the rules in this establishment, are you not?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Yet you chose to break them.” Miss Barry sighs. “Do you know what kind of signal this sends? To me? To the client? Our rules are there for a reason. If everyone just does whatever they feel like, not only does our club lose its credibility, but it also poses an insurance risk. What if something had happened last night? There would have been nothing and no one to help either of you, and it would have all fallen back on me.”

  The volume of her voice raises the longer she speaks, and I become smaller in my chair with every sentence.

  She’s right. What I did was stupid on so many levels, and she has every right to be angry with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was ready to fire me. I’m still in my probation period, having to prove my worth to this establishment, and I failed horribly.

  I feel so utterly ashamed.

  My heart sinks at the prospect of losing my job. Just when I’ve found a place where I feel safe and happy, a place I enjoy working at because of its mellow atmosphere and upscale environment. I love my job but have always struggled with the surroundings that usually come with it. Preparing drinks is a passion of mine as is serving customers, talking to them, and creating new drink recipes based on their tastes. I love all of it, but I always had to endure precarious situations and unwelcome advances that made my job so much harder than it had to be.

  Not here, though. Before Rowan, no other man has come on to me in any way, and with Rowan, it was more than welcome. I might have even initiated it with my flirtatious attitude. I asked for it to happen.

  And then I became irresponsible and acted like a horny teenager, risking everything I love about this job.

  I am so stupid.

  This was the first place where I felt like I belonged. The first place that made it seem like I finally arrived even though I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks. And threw it all away for ...

  “I’m so sorry, Miss Barry,” I repeat, sitting in a bent posture as I lift my eyes to meet hers. “I know it was wrong, and I shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know what got into me—”

  “Oh, I think I know what got into you,” Miss Barry interrupts me, casting me a devious smile. “Or rather who did.”

  She clears her throat, uncrossing her arms and leaning forward as she adds, “Melina, it’s not like I don’t understand. We all know what it’s like. We all have been in a situation when we lost our head in the presence of a handsome and promising man. Especially with some of our clientele, I can see how it could be hard to resist for a girl like you.”

  A girl like me? What’s that supposed to mean? I want to interject, but Miss Barry beckons me to remain quiet by raising her hand.

  “But one thing needs to be valued over any attraction you might feel toward one of them,” she adds. “And that’s professionalism. Do you understand?”

  I nod, feeling like a little kid scolded by her teacher. I feel so small, wishing I could just disappear into thin air.

  “I understand,” I tell her. “And I’m sorry I disappointed you, Miss Barry. I completely understand if you want to dismiss me, but can I just add that I really love working here and—”

  “Dismiss you?” Miss Barry cuts me off, adding a laugh as if I’d just phrased the most stupid suggestion. “I didn’t say I was going to fire you, Melina.”

  “Oh?”

  My back straightens as my face beams with surprise and hope. She’s not going to fire me for this? Did I just hear that right?

  “You’ve been doing a great job otherwise, Melina, which is why I’m so disappointed at this misconduct. I would hate to lose you, but I do wonder,” Miss Barry elaborates, adding a pause with a little sigh before she continues. “I wonder if I need to worry about you misinterpreting your position at this club? Our customers are informed that the only girls who are open to play are our devils and the dates they can bring along upon request. Everyone else—the angels, waitresses, and the only girl we have working behind the bar—is off limits. I’ve had digressions of this regard before, and I’d hate for it to become a recurring issue at our establishment.”

  I don’t know what other digressions she’s referring to, but I’m eager to let her know I have no intention of endangering my job here ever again.

  “Miss Barry,” I say, my voice weak and pleading. “I promise yo
u, it will never happen again. I promise you I won’t disappoint you.”

  She leans back, fixing me with her dark eyes framed by the thickest lashes I’ve ever seen.

  “Did he ask for you? Did he offer you anything?” she asks. “Because if this man made any special offers to you or gave you money for what you did, I need to know about that, too.”

  Her questions surprises and shocks me. I hurry to shake my head. “No! No, it was nothing like that! He didn’t pay me or anything! It was just ...”

  “Lust,” she concludes, looking unfazed while I want to die of embarrassment.

  “Yeah,” I utter, blinking nervously.

  Miss Barry clears her throat and shifts in her seat, locking me down with her gaze one more time.

  “Don’t let it happen again,” she reminds me. “If you want to play in our rooms, you’re free to do so in your free time, but he’ll have to bring you as his date.”

  I swallow dryly, nodding reluctantly.

  14

  Rowan

  I didn’t think I’d be back here today. When I drove here last night, I was pretty certain it would be my only visit for now. It was meant to be a short-lived distraction to get me out of the house. Something to keep my mind diverted from the harrowing reality I have to face every single day.

  There are too many things I’d like to forget about these days. Too many things that make me regret my choices from a few years back. Regret has been a big part of my life for years now, but it’s never been as strong as these past few months after my father fell ill. Cancer is a fucking bitch, jumping at you from the shadows with such sudden harshness that there’s no way to ever be prepared for it. My father has been up and down ever since the diagnosis, but clearly, there’s no happy ending to his story. He won’t recover. He’ll never be the man he once was—a man I resented for most of my life but respected and loved nonetheless.

  His sudden illness took the choice away from me. It was no longer about whether I wanted to give in to the pressure he put on me; it became whether I could live with myself if I didn’t step up now.