by A. Zavarelli
And then we both collapse forward, pressed against the glass for all of New York to see in our just fucked glory. Both our breaths are ragged and neither of us speaks as we come down from the high. And then like a gust of cold air he pulls out of me, leaving me feeling empty at the loss.
I push against the glass to steady myself as I watch his reflection walk into the bathroom without a word. And this is the only thing that can dampen my high. I just came my brains out on his cock, a huge hurdle for me, and suddenly I feel like a whore. Because just like that, it’s over. Like a business transaction.
I sit down on the couch and try to smooth out and reassemble my clothing, using that to distract me. I’m still smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in my skirt when I hear him walk back out. I can feel his eyes on me, his presence sucking all the air from the room as he hovers over me.
“Victoria,” he says gruffly. “Look at me.”
I do. I don’t know why, but I can’t resist that commanding voice, even though I suddenly feel like yesterday’s garbage. He looks just as put together as when he arrived, his face calm and impassive.
I roll my eyes. I knew this was coming…. stupid… stupid… stupid!
He reaches down almost hesitantly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “You really are quite beautiful.”
I close my eyes, soaking up his affection if only for a moment. Inside, I know it isn’t real. He probably says this to all the women after he fucks them, making it easier on his own conscious when he strolls out the door, never to be seen again.
I want to change the subject, to save myself from this embarrassment. “I can’t believe you spanked me,” I say, trying my best to sound affronted.
The corners of his mouth curve into a slow smile. “Well, you didn’t stop me. Did you not enjoy it?”
I look away. There is no way I’m answering that.
“I’m afraid I have a business trip today,” he says quickly. “I’m leaving in an hour and won’t be back until Saturday. But I’d like to see you again.”
I laugh sarcastically. “You don’t have to do this, Gabriel. Pretend like we’re going to see each other again. I know what this was.”
“And what exactly is that, Victoria?” he bites out.
“Um, well I just assumed… I mean men like you don’t usually…”
“Don’t make assumptions about me,” he snaps. “Because you’d be wrong. Regardless of what you might hear, I don’t just use women. It’s usually the other way around. And when I say I want to see you again, I mean it.”
“Okay,” I whisper. Geez, what crawled up his ass? Women using him? I don’t understand how that’s even possible.
“I will be in touch,” he says, his tone softening. And, just like that, he’s out the door.
I sit back, reveling in the aftermath of Gabriel Maddox. This man is so confusing. As much as I want to, I refuse to hold my breath on seeing him again. I figure he probably got whatever it was that attracted him to me out of his system now.
Chapter Seven
Victoria
Saturday night finally rolls around, and as expected, I haven’t heard anything from Gabriel. I’m trying hard not to care. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, doing my best to coax my hair into behaving. All I want to do is go out with Alanna, get drunk, and find some semblance of my shattered self-esteem.
“Ugh,” I mumble in frustration as I give up on my wild curls. I pucker up my lips and coat them with some fresh Crimson lipstick, deciding that will have to do.
Outfitted in one of my favorite mini dresses with a simple black bodice and a tutu skirt, I look like a punk ballerina. I’ve paired the dress with some fishnets and my favorite combat boots. One last spritz of perfume and I’m ready to join Alanna in the living room.
She lets out her loudest wolf whistle. “Get it girl! Look at you! Hot damn, you really are on the prowl tonight.”
“You have no idea,” I mumble.
I’ve already filled Alanna in on the Gabriel incident earlier this week, and Alanna was hell bent on cheering me up tonight.
“So are we ready?” I ask.
“Hell yes! We are going to have so much fun tonight, just you wait and see.”
As we walk to dinner, Alanna fills me in on the evening’s agenda. We are meeting up with her friend Trevor from work for a bite, then hitting up some club he managed to get us into.
When we arrive at the restaurant- an upscale locale aptly named Posh- Trevor is already waiting outside. He kisses both of us on the cheeks and showers us with compliments as we walk inside. He made reservations earlier, so we don’t have to wait long to be seated. By the time I finish my meal of seared chicken and asparagus, I’ve washed it down with three Vodka Cranberry Spritzers, and I’m feeling pretty good. Trevor is flirting with me and Alanna shamelessly, which he always does.
When we finally arrive at Club HQ, I feel a little uncomfortable with the line out the door. When I shoot Alanna a look of uncertainty, Trevor reassures me with a kiss on the cheek.
“Don’t worry baby, I’ve got the golden tickets!” he waves them in the air as the bouncer pulls back the velvet ropes, allowing us to walk right through.
Trevor escorts us to a white table in the back with a reserved sign. Within a minute of sitting down, a waitress appears in a form fitting white mini dress to take our drink order. I decide to stay with the Vodka and Cranberry Spritzers, even though I know I’m going to pay for it tomorrow morning.
When the waitress returns with our drinks several minutes later, her demeanor is noticeably chillier. She sets the drinks down on the table and pauses for a moment to give me the once over.
“Drinks are on the house,” she snaps, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she sashays back across the room.
“What the hell crawled up her ass?” Alanna laughs.
Trevor leans in and pinches my cheek. “Don’t worry baby, she’s just jealous of this face. I mean God who wouldn’t be?”
We all bust up laughing and pick up our drinks for a toast.
Thirty minutes and three drinks later, I’m feeling relaxed and carefree as I agree to dance with Trevor and Alanna. I hate dancing because I’m not very good at it, but I’m also just drunk enough not to care. Trevor pulls both of us to the floor, dancing in time to the pulsing rhythm. I’m a little nervous at first, but after a few minutes my body is finding its own movements in response to the music.
Soon Alanna finds another male dance partner to grind on and it’s just me and Trevor. I feel completely uninhibited by the fact I don’t have to worry if he’s attracted to me or if I’m doing it right. My hands travel up and down my body as I dip and grind into Trevor behind me. My eyes are closed and all I can hear are the lyrics of Scream by Usher. I like this song. It makes me feel sexy and as though I have some semblance of knowledge to what I’m doing. Then I feel a warm hand grasp my shoulder from behind, and a deep familiar pull of a voice that stops me in my tracks.
“May I cut in?” his tone is stiff, and I get the impression he isn’t really asking so much as demanding.
I glance at Trevor in panic, but he just winks conspiratorially and sashays over to another single girl on the dance floor. I feel a lump in my throat as I gather the courage to turn and face my new dance partner. I don’t need to look to know who it is. I could pick that rich, sultry voice anywhere. But before I can turn around he leans closer, his breath hot in my ear.
“Victoria.”
“Gabriel.” I turn into him, peering up into his stormy blue eyes. How did he even find me here? Probably the same way he figured out where I worked. I don’t even want to know.
I’m surprised to see him in a black tee shirt and blue jeans, looking hot as hell.
“That dress…” His eyes rake me from head to toe. “My little gothic princess. I’d like to bend you over and fuck you in that dress.”
“Stalking me again?” I try to sound casual, but my voice comes out shaky.
“My father owns this club, Vict
oria. I came in to resolve an issue with the management, and low and behold, there you were.” He gestures in Trevor’s direction with annoyance. “Dancing with some other guy.”
I can’t help but laugh emphatically at his ridiculous statement. “Trevor is gay, Gabriel.”
He looks momentarily confused and then lets out a relieved sigh as he strokes my cheek with his thumb. I savor the warmth and gentleness of his touch, craving more.
“Well, that’s a relief.” His tone is harsh and accusatory. “Because I didn’t like it. At all.”
I open my eyes and pull his hand from my face. “You don’t own me, Gabriel. You barely know me. I can dance with whomever I feel like.”
He smiles down at me and places his hand on my neck, stroking the sensitive flesh. Desire pools deep within my belly, and it takes everything I have not to throw myself at him right now.
“You’re right,” he smirks at my willing response to his touch. “I don’t own you, but I would like to.”
I pull back again, this time filled with real anger. “What the hell does that even mean? I’m not a possession. Nobody will ever own me.”
This time Gabriel grabs my hips and pulls me closer to him as he moves against me in an overtly sexual way. He brushes my hair back over my shoulders, his lips moving against my ear as he kisses me softly.
“Oh, I think I would have to disagree,” he whispers. “I think you would like to be owned by me. Knowing that you are mine to do with as I please. I have a feeling, that if you gave me the chance, you would like it very much.”
Holy crap. How does he make that sound so hot? He just told me he wants to own me, and I can barely contain my giddy enthusiasm. I can’t find the words to reply, so I do the only thing I can and keep dancing.
I swivel my hips, pressing my back into his broad chest, snaking my arms up and around his neck. He growls into my ear with satisfaction as his hands travel over my hips and pull my ass into his groin. His erection digs into me, making me ache between my legs.
When I glance over, Alanna and Trevor are gaping with their mouths open. Reckless me just doesn’t care. She keeps on dancing, reveling in the feel of his body against mine. And then without warning, he whips me back around to face him, plunging his lips to mine. I part my lips in invitation and he accepts greedily. The kiss is brutal and possessive, leaving my lips swollen and wet when he pulls away.
He stops dancing and holds me at a distance with a pained expression on his face. “Victoria, I have to stop now, or I’m going to fuck you right here on the dance floor and I don’t care who’s watching.”
I don’t know if it’s the alcohol, but I want this and don’t give a damn about the consequences right now. I playfully pull him back to me. I’m enjoying the fact that he can’t have me but wants me so desperately.
“So, fuck me then,” I challenge. He wraps his arms around me and groans into my ear before nipping at my neck. “I will. But not tonight, and not like this.”
He pulls away again, leaving my sexual frustration at an all-time high. He kisses me on the cheek before leaning into my ear. “You already belong to me, you just don’t know it yet.” And with that he turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd behind me.
It’s only now that I see the horror on the faces of women all around me. And worst of all is the waitress from earlier. If looks could kill…
Is this why? Because she wants Gabriel to herself? Of course. It all makes sense now. He’s a hot commodity, and apparently I’m in the way. I can’t help but shoot her a little smirk. But in all honesty, I don’t get it either. Why, when he has his choice of women, does he want me?
Within a minute Alanna and Trevor descend upon me, their excitement palpable.
“Oh my God, was that Gabriel?” she asks.
“Yes, Alanna.”
“The entire club was staring at the two of you. It was so weird!”
“I know.” I roll my eyes.
“And look at you smiling like the cat that got the cream!” Alanna continues, “He is so fucking hot. You have to tell us everything on the ride home.”
I nod in agreement and then turn my attention to a woman who is approaching me. She has her cell phone in her hand, and it looks like she’s trying to take a picture. I quickly cover my face and grab Alanna’s hand, darting for the door in a panic.
Chapter Eight
Gabriel
Sitting at my desk, I rummage through the news alerts that popped up online overnight. Speculation is rife about who this new mystery woman is. Article after article with pictures of me in the club, dancing with Victoria, and one shot of her with her face in her hands, presumably after I left. My anger is about to boil over. I can’t believe I was so stupid, losing myself in her like that. Out in public, no less. It makes me look weak… an easy target. Because if one woman can make me lose it, then that means others can too.
But that isn’t what bothers me the most. I keep worrying about what Victoria will think of all this. She doesn’t look happy in those photos, running away from the vultures. She was already skittish before, and now this. The only saving grace is that none of the photos show her face.
I knew when I saw her in that club I should have just turned around and walked back out. I’d already told myself I was only going to indulge in her once, promises be damned. I don’t even know what I was thinking telling her I’d like to see her again. I don’t ‘see’ women, I fuck them. Pure and simple. But when she walked into that club, everything changed.
The way she was dancing, and that fucking dress…. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. It was a pull too strong to resist. I needed to feel my hands on her again, to let every man who might even think about fucking her know who she belonged to. And she ate it up.
I had never, in all of the women I’ve been with, seen a woman respond that way to my touch. Sure they tried faking it with their shitty acting skills thinking I would be none the wiser. But they didn’t like my rough hands or my harsh words. They were high society princesses, wanting to be treated as such.
But not her. She was different. She soaked up everything I had to give her, and there was no fucking way she was faking that. It made me wonder why. For the first time in a long time, I felt a twinge of guilt for what I was doing. For what I liked. Because I didn’t want to take advantage of someone who was vulnerable. And it was clear, this girl wanted to be vulnerable to me. But I’d had a taste of her, and it wasn’t nearly enough.
I tried to get her off my mind, even resorting to calling up Anya. But when she came over and started on her mind numbing tangent about how hard she was working to lose five pounds, all hope was lost. I politely tried to get rid of her, but even she knew something was up. She told me she’d never seen me so high strung before and offered to help me relax. When I rejected her, she left in a fit of rage.
Even as I jacked off in the shower tonight, my thoughts went back to Victoria. It’s getting fucking ridiculous. And I know what needs to be done. I’m sure once I show her what I want to do to her, she won’t have me anyway. So I need to get it over with.
I reach for my phone and hit the speed-dial. It’s now or never.
Chapter Nine
Victoria
The sound of someone banging on the front door wakes me with a jolt.
I roll over and groan, tangled up in my dress from last night with a throbbing head. I can hear Alanna talking with someone for a moment, and then the door shutting. A moment later she appears in my bedroom door with a gold box in her hands and a big smile on her face.
“Delivery for Miss Kelly,” she belts out her best English accent. “Courtesy of Mr. Maddox.”
“It’s way too early for this,” I mutter, flopping back onto my pillow.
Alanna sits down beside me and nudges me with the box until I give in. I open it carefully, removing a white card with a note written on it.
Victoria,
I hope you slept well and dreamt only of me.
I want to see you today.
Call me.
Gabriel
His phone number is written on the back of the card in the same perfect penmanship. I set the card down and proceed to look beneath the tissue paper. Inside is an arrangement of the most beautiful chocolate covered strawberries I’ve ever seen, no doubt from some fancy confectionary company. Alanna grins as she helps herself to a strawberry and brings it to her mouth seductively.
“Ooh, Victoria this is food porn.”
I shut the box and set it down beside me, picking up the card to read it again. This situation is getting out of control, but I can’t help myself. I want to see him again too. I want to feel his hands on my body again. I can’t stop thinking about him. I know this is probably the same way he always lures women in, with these cliché notes and boxes of chocolates designed to make them feel special. But I don’t care, I want him anyway.
“You have to see him again, Toto.” Alanna interrupts my far away thoughts. “I have to live vicariously through you because I’m dying to know how this plays out.”
I chuckle at the dreamy look on her face and grab a strawberry for myself. “I don’t know. I want to, but I don’t know if I should. He seems like bad news.”
Alanna just shrugs and continues munching on the chocolate covered fruit. “So what if he’s a major player, you’re only in it for some casual fun, remember? And I think he would be good for you. I’ve never seen you so wild and free like you were last night.”
I have to admit, she has a point. I just got done telling myself the other night that I needed something like this.
“Maybe you’re right, it could be kind of perfect. Since I know there’s no possibility of wanting more with him because he won’t want more, it will help me keep my emotions in check. We can just hook up a couple times.”
“Yes!” Alanna nods enthusiastically. “That’s exactly right. I’m so glad we got that settled, because I have something to tell you, and you can’t freak out.”
