Nightclub Surprise

by Michelle Love

  Afterward, they both collapsed, breathless and laughed. Arlo turned his head to look at her, her face covered with a dewy sheen of breath. ‘God, you’re beautiful.’

  She laughed. ‘That’s the orgasm talking but thank you.’

  ‘Are you kidding, look at you…?’ He ran his hand down over her belly. ‘How long are you here for?’

  ‘Five days,’ she said, turning to gaze at him. ‘You?’

  ‘A week. Listen I know we said no names but…’

  ‘Pseudonyms okay?’

  ‘Good idea. I’m…Turner.’ His grin was wickedly infectious, and she laughed.

  ‘I am not being ‘Hooch.' How about…Bill and Ted?’

  It was his turn to chuckle. ‘Next time I come, I’m not shouting either of those names.’

  ‘Fair point. Well, then, I’m…Camille.’

  He nodded. ‘And I’m…Adam’

  She rolled on top of him, her dark hair cascading around her face. ‘Well then, hello Adam.’

  He put his hands on either side of her face, studying every inch of it. ‘Camille…will you spend the next few days with me?’

  She smiled. ‘As long as you promise we’ll be naked and doing this for ninety-nine percent of the time.’

  ‘I think I can accommodate that…’ He grinned as she straddled him, taking his still hard cock in her hands and stroking it against her lower belly.

  ‘Adam?’

  ‘Yes, sweetheart?’

  ‘What would you like me to do?’ She grinned at his raised eyebrows. ‘Anything…’

  ‘Anything?’

  She nodded, and he put his hands around her waist and lifted her onto his cock. ‘Just ride me, beautiful…but let’s take it slow, this time, I want to watch that gorgeous body of yours while we fuck.’

  And he did, admiring the way the full breasts gently moved with the rhythm of her thrusts, the way her tight little cunt gripped his cock, increasing the friction on him, her soft moans, and the gentle curve of her belly. She kept her eyes locked onto his, intensity building as they rocked together. A cool breeze came off the water outside and cooled their hot bodies. He reached between her legs to rub her hardening clit, and she let out such a melodic, beautiful sigh of pleasure that he could feel his orgasm beginning to build.

  This time, it was a mellow, drawn out climax and he actually wished that he wasn’t wearing a condom, that he could pump his seed deep into this goddesses being, mark her as his own, taste this honey skin forever.

  As the night went on, they made love, again and again, sometimes urgently – he took her against the wall of the villa, thrusting deep into her from behind, she sucked him until he came into her mouth, her fingernails digging into his buttocks. They had each other in every way and by the time they feel asleep, Arlo knew in his bones – he wouldn’t be able to let her go…

  Cosima walked through New Orleans airport in a haze. Since she and ‘Adam’ had said their goodbyes, she had felt a chasm of sadness inside her. She had thought she’d be able to do it; turn off her feelings, just enjoy those few incredible, sensual days for what they were. The trouble was, her mysterious lover spoke to in every way, mentally, emotionally and of course, physically.

  Cosima had never been one to flaunt her beauty or be overtly sexual but something at the restaurant that night when she’d caught his eye, and he’d smiled – every cell in her body had been set aflame. A pulse beat frantically between her legs and she had, for once, thrown caution to the wind. And, man, did it pay off. The five sensual days and nights she’d spent with him had been an awakening inside of her. She reveled in the confidence it had given her, welcomed the aches in her muscles from the exertions, felt washed with happiness as they laughed and loved together.

  But now, she had to face the fact that it was over, and she was both sad and happy. No-one could take that away from her – and it had been just the two of them. No family crap, no relationship bullshit, just… ‘The good bits,’ she grinned to herself. If only real relationships could be that wonderful.

  She took a cab home to find the apartment empty. Harpa had been spending less and less time there, and Cosima would not have been surprised to come home to find her stuff gone. She spent most of the time at her boyfriend’s place now. Cosima sighed. She hadn’t liked Deacon the few times she had met him, but Harpa’s whole countenance had dared her to say something negative so she’d kept her mouth shut. Harpa was an adult now; she could do what she wanted.

  ‘Just like I did,’ she said aloud and laughed. She wanted to take a shower but didn’t want to wash him off her skin yet. They had made love for the last time just before she left for the airport, making the most of their last moments together.

  ‘I’ll never forget you,’ he’d said, his kiss tender and loving, his eyes soft. God, what a gorgeous man, she sighed to herself. Funny, smart, and with just enough confidence to be attractive. His body – God, she could crawl over it for days – was tight and cut, broad shoulders, thickly muscled arms. He was tall too, towering over her five-four, making her feel so tiny and safe in his arms.

  ‘Adam,’ she said out loud and not for the first time, wondered what his real name was. No, that wasn’t part of the deal, she told herself, but she couldn’t help fantasizing that somehow, they could be together again. Her sex swelled at the thought of it, and so, she drew a bath and relaxed into it, thinking of him, letting his fingers drift down between her legs.

  At midnight, she went to bed, suddenly exhausted. Tomorrow, she would start to get her life back on track. An interview at one of New Orleans most prestigious architectural firms, a hope of a junior partnership, that’s what she should be focusing on. She fell asleep just as she heard the front door open and Harpa creep back into her room.

  In the Maldives, Arlo sat in the lounge sipping his drink and wishing he could pour the aged single blend scotch all over ‘Camille’’s incredible body and then lick it off. God, it had been less than twenty-four hours, but the void she had left in his life was palpable.

  Which is why, now, he sat with his private detective, looking at photographs of her. ‘You’re sure this is her real name?’

  The detective nodded. ‘One hundred percent. She’s the daughter of Arjun Malhotra but now lives in New Orleans. She’s supposed to have a new identity, but I found her easily – hopefully, the people that killed her father won’t have such luck. Both of the sisters have had threats against them which is why the FBI stepped in.’

  Arlo winced. He couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to harm Camille – or Cosima, as he now knew her name to be. Cosima– it suited her well. He stared down at her beautiful face, drinking it in.

  ‘Boss? What do you want me to do next?’

  ‘Nothing yet. I got this.’

  He thrust his cock deep inside her, grinning as she cried out. It seemed he had become bigger, almost too big for her now and as he fucked her, she began to feel pain instead of pleasure. She glanced up at him, suddenly fearful. His smile was terrifying.

  ‘Did you think you could escape us, Cosima?’ His face turned from ‘Adam’ to the face of an enemy, and suddenly she felt her body rocked with agonizing pain. She looked down to see an impossibly big knife cutting deep into her abdomen, stab, stab, stab….

  ‘Cos! Cos! Wake up…’

  Cosima opened her eyes, gasping for air, to see her younger sister, her eyes large and scared, sitting on the side of the bed, her hands on Cosima’s arms. Breathless, she sat up.

  ‘You were having another nightmare,’ Harpa said gently. Cosima sighed and leaned back against the headboard.

  ‘God, sorry…was I screaming again?’

  Harpa nodded. ‘Something about ‘Adam, please don’t’.’

  Cosima flushed. ‘Yikes.’

  ‘Who’s Adam?’

  Cosima didn’t answer her sister straight away; she kicked off the comforter and headed to her bathroom to grab a cup of water. Jeez, damn nightmares. She tried to smile at Harpa as she sat back down on the bed. ‘
Just some guy I met in the Maldives.’

  Harpa’s eyes lit up. ‘Please tell me you got laid.’

  Cosima’s blush deepened. ‘Harpa Malhotra, really, the things you ask.’ Then she could have cursed as Harpa’s face shut down.

  ‘It’s Bedi, now, remember?’

  Harpa got up and walked out of the room; it was the only the lateness of the hour that made her refrain from slamming it, Cosima knew. Cosima sighed again. Me and my big mouth. Their new life, their new names were still contentious between the sisters; Cosima knew Harpa blamed her for outing them in New York. The FBI had wanted them to change their first names too, but Harpa put her foot down on that, and Cosima too was glad to retain something of their own. She knew their father had picked out their names when they had been born and it felt good to honor him by keeping them. In business, though, Cosima used initials now, Cosima Jasmine Bedi became C.J. Bedi, architect, and Harpa too anglicized her name to ‘Harper’. But at home, they were still ‘Cos’ and ‘Harp’ to each other, at least.

  Now Cosima lay back down and tried to go back to sleep, willing the nightmares to stay away. Her interview tomorrow was important to them both; what little money she had from the trust fund was depleting fast and with their father’s estate tied up and inaccessible to them while their lives were in danger, they needed another source of income. Especially if Harpa moves out, she thought to herself. I can just about afford this place on my own if I get this job. Otherwise, a tiny studio away from the French Quarter would have to do. Cosima wrinkled her nose at the idea of it – she loved being here, amidst the crowds of tourists and the Quarter folk.

  She eventually fell asleep just as dawn crept over the horizon; her last waking thought was that thank God, the interview isn’t until the afternoon.

  Two months later…

  Talmidge Hunt looked up as Cosima knocked on his door, and smiled. Since joining his firm two months ago, after an interview that for both of them had been like a meeting of the minds, Cosima had won over practically everyone in the firm and had settled in so quickly they couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t been there.

  Now, as he beckoned her in, he beamed at her. ‘Now, my dear, I have some exciting news. Arlo Forrester’s people are coming to see us tomorrow.’

  Cosima, sitting down opposite her boss, looked blank, and Tal smiled. ‘I forgot, you’re a New Yorker. Forrester is a California-based company, boutique hotels mostly.’

  Cosima grinned. ‘California? Did you just make that up?’ She pretended to count on her fingers. ‘New York, India, New Orleans…nope, no, never heard of this ‘California.'’

  Tal flicked a paper clip at her, chuckling. ‘Funny girl. Now, seriously, they’re coming to see us to discuss a hotel right here in New Orleans. This would be a huge boon to our practice should we land the account. So, what do you think?’

  ‘I think it’s great…Harry or Jennifer would be fantastic for that kind of thing.’

  Tal laughed softly. ‘Cosima…I’m asking if you would like to be the lead on it.’

  Cosima was stunned. She blinked at Tal for a second, trying to gather her thoughts. ‘Tal…I’ve only been here for two months and although I’m deeply flattered, I wouldn’t want to step on anyone else’s toes.’

  Tal shook his head. ‘You wouldn’t be, I promise. Both Harry and Jenny specialize in manufacturing premises; you know that. And no-one else has your eye for detail when it comes to décor and aesthetic. I’ll be your second on this – show you there’s life in the old dog yet.’

  Cosima grinned. Tal was nearly eighty, though a shock of white hair and the cane he used were the only indicators of his great experience. His blue eyes were still strong, his mind razor-sharp and when he brainstormed with his team, Cosima was enraptured.

  ‘In that case, I would be honored,’ then realizing what she’d committed to, blew out her cheeks. ‘Wow.’

  Tal clapped his hands together, delighted. ‘Good. So, they’ll be here, I’m assuming mid-morning, so I thought we do introductions then take them to lunch. I’m assuming Arlo Forrester won’t be one of the party but who knows? I’ll get Mandy to book us a table at Arnaud’s, show these surfer types real Cajun cuisine.’

  Arlo wished he hadn’t picked up the phone that morning. Sabine, sobbing, was calling him, begging to see him - ‘Just to talk, bebe, please.’

  His mind full of Cosima Bedi’s luscious thighs as it had been constantly for the last two months, he’d absentmindedly agreed, and now Sabine, all blonde hair and long legs, was sitting on his couch, a glass of straight vodka in her hand, begging him to give her another chance.

  ‘I’m so sorry, bebe,’ she said for the hundredth time. ‘Cole and I were stupid, reckless, and wrong.’

  ‘For five whole years,’ Arlo said coolly, really not wanting the same argument all over again. He was tired and wanted to get to bed. Tomorrow he would see Cosima for the first time – and she had no idea. That thrilled him, and all he wanted was to get Sabine out of his apartment. Sabine, however, had other ideas.

  ‘Bebe…please. Won’t you think about trying again?’

  Arlo ran his hands over his face, frustrated. ‘Sabine…why would you even want to? It’s not as if we were ever going to be a family. You never wanted kids, I do…it wasn’t working for a long time. Look, I forgive you for straying, although I wish it hadn’t been with my best friend, but I admit – I was absent from the relationship for a long time, and that’s my bad.’

  ‘But still – ‘

  ‘But still nothing. If I thought the relationship was worth saving, maybe things would be different.’

  He was sorry he’d framed his response so harshly when he saw her wince. He went to sit by her, held her hand. ‘Sabine…I’m sorry. I’d like to be friends still if that’s possible. But please know, it can never be more than that.’

  Sabine studied his eyes for a long moment. ‘Who is she?’

  Arlo blinked. ‘Who?’

  Sabine smiled. ‘There’s someone else.’

  Arlo got up and went to pour another drink. ‘No.’ Liar.

  Sabine sighed. ‘Well, you can do that, Arlo; you can lie to my face but remember, I tried to take the high ground.’

  Arlo nearly spat out his drink, wiping his mouth and grinning widely. ‘Did you really just say that? Sabine, let me make it clear. My life – and those who are or aren’t in it – are no longer your concern.’

  Sabine sniffed. ‘I can see we’re getting nowhere.’

  ‘We’re getting nowhere because we are nowhere, Sabine. I wish you every good thing, but I do not wish to reconcile. Thank you for the offer.’

  She flushed at his tone, which he had to admit, was condescending. ‘Sabine, I really do have to get back to work now, so if there’s nothing else?’

  Later, he stared out at the dusk falling over San Francisco. As much as he loved this city, he needed to get away. From Sabine, from Cole…ah, screw it, he didn’t need to get away; he just needed to be near her. Cosima. Her face haunted his days and nights, the memory of her skin on his. He had meant every word about the pact they’d made – he really did. Right up to the moment he had entered her, and it had felt so right, so perfect, all his plans to remain aloof and unattached had faltered. Yes, it had taken two months to get up the courage to set up the meeting with her firm, but it had been necessary to wait. If he’d tipped up on her doorstep the minute he’d landed on US soil, she might have freaked out, turned him away and he hadn’t been able to bear the thought of it. No – patience was the key. He would not harass her; he would simply be…present. Charming. He was confident she would be responsive plus there was the matter of her and her sister’s security. He’d read everything he could find on Prince Arjun Malhotra, from his beginnings as a young prince to the assassination of both the King and of the Prince. There the trail ended – at least via a Google search. The only mention of the Prince’s daughters was a brief article; obviously written by the Prince’s enemy, saying that all of the Prince’
s offspring were to be exterminated before the ‘taint’ of the Malhotra family was wiped out.

  God. The thought of anyone laying a hand on Cosima made his blood boil. Suddenly he wished himself back to the island, back to when he could have asked her for her number, called off the whole what happens here, stays here thing, begged her to be with him. You are the least playboy-like of any alleged playboy; he shook his head, grinning to himself. You seriously have no game, dude. None.

  What would the readers of Forbes think if they knew this year's ‘Most Eligible Billionaire’ was a geeky romantic, instead of a devil-may-care heartbreaker? He liked that image, the dashing rogue, the aloof property magnate – it helped him deal with some of his anxiety issues. Had his beloved older brother, Mason, still been alive, he would have laughed at the image Arlo projected – not in a cruel way but just because he had known his little brother better than anyone. Mason had been a Professor of the Arts at an upscale private college before he died in a homophobic attack by one of his students. Arlo still felt that grief and, reading over Malhotra’s assassination; he knew Cosima must feel the same. Another thing they had in common.