Destructive

by Jessica Prince

  Two hours pass in the same manner. I take trays out, provide the wealthy people the booze they require, and make my way back to the kitchen to repeat the process over and over again. The work isn’t hard by any means, but standing and walking all evening is starting to really wear on my feet. The ugly black no-slip shoes I’m wearing provide no support at all. I’m counting down the hours until I can get home and soak in a nice, long bath. Midnight can’t come soon enough.

  On my next lap into the kitchen, Carmen stops me. “Take a break, babe. You’ve got ten minutes.”

  Oh, thank you, Lord. I’m in desperate need of a cigarette.

  As if reading my mind, she calls out, “Through the service entrance and around back, there’s a smoking section with a couple of benches.”

  “You’re too good to me, Car.”

  “Pfft. Don’t I know it! Now, get moving. The clock’s a tickin’.”

  I rush over to where I’ve stashed my purse, and I grab my smokes before heading outside. Seeing the concrete benches, I take a seat and let out a pleasurable sigh, basking in the few minutes of relaxation my exhausted body is getting.

  I’ve just taken the first drag of my cigarette when I hear the muffled sounds of voices from somewhere behind me. I look over my shoulder and see nothing but shadows from the building. The voices continue, and even though I know better, curiosity causes me to stand from the bench and move toward the noises coming from the shadows. The closer I get, the better I’m able to hear. What sounds like a feminine giggle is quickly followed by a masculine groan. The erotic scene I stumble upon as I peek around the corner causes my entire body to freeze and the breath to stall in my lungs.

  Leaning against the brick building is a man decked out in a tuxedo. His head is thrown back in passion. My eyes scan further down his body to see that his pants have been pulled down to mid-thigh. A woman in a sparkly golden gown is on her knees in front of him. Her face is obscured, but the back and forth motion of her head lets me know exactly what she’s doing to cause those sounds to emit from the man’s chest.

  Sexual situations have always given me severe anxiety, but in this moment, something about the image in front of me causes my body to respond in a way it never has before. I feel a flood of wetness between my legs as my nipples harden to tight points beneath my blouse. My breath begins coming out in short pants as I squeeze my thighs together, searching for some kind of relief from the pressure building low in my belly. I can’t believe how my body is responding in this moment. I’ve never been so turned-on before, but something about how this man is holding on to the woman’s hair as he pumps his hips toward her face is causing heat to rush over my skin.

  He lets out another groan, and I sense that he’s getting close. I squeeze my thighs tighter, desperate for some sort of sensation.

  “Take it all the way. I want to feel the back of your throat while you swallow everything I give you.”

  I know that voice.

  It’s as if time completely stops. A chill shoots up my spine. I can’t prevent the sharp gasp that escapes my lips. The man’s head quickly turns in my direction.

  “What the fuck?” he curses as he pushes the woman away from him. He yanks his pants up before taking quick strides toward me.

  Fear takes over my body, forcing me to turn, and I begin running back to the service entrance, but it’s pointless. I can hear his footsteps as they pound against the pavement. He’s getting closer and closer with every step I take.

  I feel a rough hand grab hold of my arm just before I’m spun around forcefully.

  “Are you fucking spying on me?” he demands, giving my body a violent shake.

  I let out a startled cry at the harshness in his voice. “No! I-I’m s-so sorry.” My eyes shoot up to his in enough time to see recognition flash in his dark gray depths.

  “Bella?” His free hand comes up and reaches for my face.

  I flinch away from his touch in fear of being hit. He pauses briefly, and something flickers in his eyes. He slowly reaches back out and gently removes my mask. His lips part on a small inhale, pulling my attention from his eyes to his mouth. I take in his lush, full lips, and I am overcome with the desire to feel them pressed against mine.

  Do they feel as soft as they look?

  “Bella,” he repeats, yanking me from my thoughts of what kissing him would feel like.

  Before he can say another word, I start rambling, “I’m so sorry. I came out for a cigarette and heard voices. I swear, I wasn’t spying on you. Please let me go. I’m sorry. Just let me go,” I plead, feeling the tears building up in my eyes.

  He looks down at his hand that is still holding on to my arm as if he didn’t realize he was touching me. He gives my arm a gentle squeeze before releasing it and looking back up at me. I take a step back, putting some much-needed distance between me and this man who has a hold on me in a way no one ever has.

  “I would never hurt you,” he insists.

  I turn on my heels and run back to the kitchen. All I can concentrate on is my need to escape—escape from this man who affects me in ways I’ve never experienced and from the sensation that takes over my body at just the sound of his voice.

  What’s happening to me?

  By the time I make it back to Carmen, my whole body is shaking so violently that my teeth are chattering.

  “Jesus Christ, Marley. Are you all right?”

  “I-I’m so sorry. I c-can’t stay here. I need to go.” Tears are running down my cheeks of their own accord. There’s nothing I can do to stop them. I’m sure I look like an absolute mess, but all I can think about is how badly I need to leave this place.

  “Okay, okay.” Carmen pulls me into a tight hug and rubs her hands up and down my back, trying to soothe me. “It’s fine, babe. Just go. Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

  I close my eyes and inhale deeply through my nose, trying to calm my frazzled nerves. “I can drive. I’m sorry for bailing on you. I just can’t stay here.”

  She pushes me back, holding on to my arms, and she looks at my face. “It’s fine, honey, I swear. But don’t think you’re getting out of telling me what the hell happened. I’ll call you first thing in the morning, and you’re going to tell me what caused you to look like you’ve just seen a fucking ghost. Understand?”

  I nod my head as she pulls me back into a tight hug before releasing me with a promise that I’ll answer when she calls me in the morning.

  I manage to keep myself together just long enough to make it to my car before the sobs I’ve been holding in break through. I allow myself just a few minutes to cry. Then, I force myself to calm down in order to get myself home where I can continue my meltdown in private.

  ***

  This is the second time she’s run from me in as many days.

  I rush back into the gala, doing the one thing I’ve never had to do before. I’m chasing after her. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since I first looked into those amazing green eyes. Clips of her lying beneath me while I’m buried inside her have played on a constant loop in my brain since yesterday. There’s no denying that I find her absolutely beautiful, but the fact that she wouldn’t even give me her name intrigues me for some reason.

  Women don’t say no to me—ever. And having her spurn my advances yesterday makes me feel almost…desperate. The last thing I’ve ever been is desperate. I love the feeling and hate it all at the same time. Women throw themselves at me on a daily basis. I’ve never lacked for female companionship, so the idea of an actual chase is desirable. My whole life, I’ve never wanted for anything. And I want this woman.

  It’s almost as if fate intervened tonight, causing our paths to cross again. My cock has been rock-hard ever since that delicate gasp passed through her luscious lips. And it has nothing to do with the eager blow job I was receiving from the woman in the gold dress. It’s all her. I’m hard enough to pound nails, and it’s because of those beautiful green eyes and those amazing lips.

 
I’m going to have that woman.

  Her fighting me will just make claiming her all the more sweet.

  I never thought I’d ever feel this way about a woman again, but here I am, scouring every fucking corner of this ballroom, trying to find a woman whose name I don’t even know. This isn’t like me. Gabriel Bertozzi doesn’t have to chase after women. They throw themselves at me willingly. And I’m nothing if not happy to cater to their needs before casting them away.

  There is no sign of her anywhere.

  My hands are clenched in frustration, tension building in my shoulders. I want nothing more than to shove my fist through a wall at the thought of losing her a second time.

  “Everything okay, boss?”

  I turn to see my most trusted employee and closest friend standing behind me. “Yeah, Aldo. Everything’s fine.”

  It’s not lost on me how ridiculous he looks. The man is a giant, standing at six feet six inches and covered in muscle. He looks like a fool in his tux and mask, but it’s all part of his job. I don’t go anywhere without Aldo Cavalli. There isn’t a person on the face of the earth that I trust more than him.

  “You sure about that?” He smirks at me from behind that stupid mask. “Because you look like you want to beat the shit out of someone right about now.”

  “Keep it up, and I’ll make you that someone, asshole.”

  A loud, rumbling laugh escapes his mouth. “I’d love to see you try, dickhead.”

  Standing at six-three myself, there aren’t many men who are bigger than me, but Aldo definitely takes the cake. He’s probably the only one out there who could kick my ass, but that’s a fact that I’d deny from my deathbed.

  “You’d do well to remember who signs your paychecks,” I spit, still feeling tense from my encounter with my bella.

  Fuck! I don’t even know the woman’s name, and I’m already claiming her as mine. And fuck if the idea of all the ways I can mark her as mine isn’t appealing as hell.

  “And you’d do well to remember who’s responsible for keeping your sorry ass alive.”

  There’s no arguing with sound logic. Instead of conceding, I turn and walk out of the ballroom, the night ahead no longer holding the appeal it originally had.

  Carmen: You awake?

  Looking to the clock on my phone after reading the message, I see the time and let out a groan. It’s already ten in the morning, and I haven’t had more than an hour or two of sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, my mind would flash back to that seductive scene behind the Grand Ballroom. His voice would replay over and over in my mind, making my body heat and my breath catch.

  I’m exhausted and confused, and the last thing I want to do is have a heart-to-heart with Carmen. As if she were able to read my mind, my phone pings again.

  Carmen: Don’t even think of avoiding me!

  Me: I’m awake, crazy.

  Carmen: I’m on my way over. You better answer your fucking door.

  Me: Ma’am, yes, ma’am!

  Carmen: Just for that, I’m not stopping for coffee, smart-ass!

  I let out a loud laugh. Leave it to Carmen to make me laugh when everything in my life feels like it’s spinning out of control.

  Me: Forgive me?

  My phone pings seconds later.

  Carmen: All’s forgiven. Be there in fifteen.

  Throwing the covers off, I climb out from the bed and head to the bathroom to brush my teeth and toss my hair up into a messy bun. I’ve just thrown on a pair of yoga pants and a tank top when there’s a knock at my door.

  “Venti nonfat and no whip white mocha with an extra shot for my bestie,” Carmen announces when I open the front door to let her in.

  I grab the cup from her hands and take a fortifying gulp. “Oh, thank you,” I moan. “You’re amazing.”

  “It’s all that Adonis DNA and tiger’s blood in my veins,” Carmen deadpans.

  “Of course it is.” I chortle as I collapse back on the couch and bask in my caffeinated goodness. Carmen sits in the chair across from me and props her feet on the coffee table.

  I should have known my relief would only be momentary.

  “So…” Carmen drags out. “You going to tell me what happened last night that had you looking ten shades of freaked-the-fuck-out? Or are you going to make me drag it outta you? Either way works for me really. Side note—if you make me drag it out of you, I’m gonna talk about my vagina all damn day as punishment.”

  I sink back into the fluffy cushions of the couch, trying in vain to disappear into the stuffing. Sucking in a deep breath and willing myself to just get it over with, I start in on what happened the night before. “There was this guy—”

  Before I’m able to get any further, Carmen is on her feet, her eyes wide as saucers. “Oh my God! Did he hurt you?” she demanded before lowering her voice to a whisper. “Did he touch you?”

  “What? No! Jesus, it’s nothing like that! Will you just sit your ass down and stop interrupting me? You’re the one who demanded answers.”

  She holds her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay.” She sits back in the chair across from me and waves her hand in the air. “Please continue. But just let me add, if this story ends in someone hurting you in any way, I’m going to get all kinds of stabby.”

  That catches me off guard. I’ve never experienced this kind of concern from anyone. It takes a few seconds for me to blink back the tears threatening to fall. I love Carmen even more in this moment.

  “All right. As I was saying…” I narrow my eyes to make sure she doesn’t interrupt again.

  She pretends to zip her lips as she leans back in the chair.

  “There was this guy. He came into Fletchers the other day, and he just…I don’t even know how to explain it. He…gets to me.” I close my eyes to try to collect my thoughts. I don’t know how to tell her about the man with the gray eyes without sounding like a total freak. “It’s weird, Car. He terrifies me, but at the same time, there’s something else.”

  I lift my eyes back to hers to see how she’s reacting to everything I’m telling her. The look on her face is impassive.

  I continue, “Anyway, I didn’t think I’d ever see this guy again after I completely freaked out on him at Fletchers, but he was at the gala last night.”

  I proceed to fill her in on what I stumbled across at the back of the building and how I ran away from him—again—like my ass was on fire. After spilling my guts, I stare at her and wait for her response.

  What comes out of her mouth next definitely isn’t what I was expecting.

  “Oh. My. God. Marley, you totally want to fuck this guy!” she squeals.

  “What?” I screech at the top of my lungs. “How the fuck did you draw that conclusion from everything I just told you? The guy scares the shit out of me!”

  Carmen leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees. “Yeah. He scares the shit out of you because you want him. This isn’t a bad thing, babe. In the few years I’ve known you, you haven’t so much as blinked at a member of the opposite sex. It’s okay to be attracted to a guy, you know.”

  My palms start to sweat, and I run them through my hair in frustration. “Carmen, you don’t get it—”

  “Because you won’t tell me,” she interrupts again. “And you know what? That’s okay, too, Marley. Don’t think I can’t tell you’ve got some seriously fucked-up shit in your past. If you can’t bring yourself to talk to me about it, I’m not going to push you, but this is not a bad thing.”

  The look in her eyes tells me that she’s determined to get her point across, but anxiety has begun to pump through my body, and it’s hard to hear past the blood rushing in my ears.

  “I get that you’re scared. Whatever it is you’re keeping inside has kept you closed off from anybody and everybody. But you’re an amazing woman, babe. You deserve to have someone cause those butterflies in your stomach and that tingle between your thighs.”

  She gives me a salacious wink, and I can’t help but laugh.

/>   “You’re so eloquent, Car. You’re like Oprah or something!”

  She takes a sip of her coffee before rolling her eyes at me. “Whatever. All I’m saying is give this a chance. If you see this guy again, just go with it. Who knows? Maybe this dude is exactly what you need.”

  She couldn’t be more wrong about that, but it’s not her fault. I keep my past from her and Matty. Keeping everything from back then locked inside is the only way I know how to cope. I want to believe what she’s saying, but I just can’t. No matter how drawn I am to this stranger, I can’t shake the notion that he’s a million kinds of wrong for me.

  ***

  It’s been three days since the incident at the gala, and I’m finally starting to feel normal again—well, normal for me anyway. Fletchers is slow at the moment, so I’ve taken advantage of the lull behind the bar to get some studying done while Carmen flits around in typical Carmen fashion. My attention is ripped from my biology textbook when Carmen leans down in my ear.

  She whisper-yells, “Holy walking orgasms, Batman! That dude is fi-i-i-ne!”

  I turn my head to see who she’s talking about, and I go still as a statue. The only thing that’s not frozen as I stare into those storm-colored eyes is the fire low in my belly at the sight of him. His face breaks out into a knowing smirk as he catches me staring. Warmth pools between my legs, and my nipples pebble painfully beneath my black cotton t-shirt.

  He saunters up to the bar and takes a seat on the barstool directly in front of me, resting his elbows on the bar top like he owns the place. It isn’t until I catch something in my peripheral vision that I notice the giant of a man taking a seat right next to him. And when I say giant, I’m not exaggerating. I thought Gray Eyes was big, but this dude completely dwarfs him. He has to be, at the very least, six-six, and his frame is packed with massive muscles.