by Mj Fields
Even in his photos, his heavy-lidded, dark-eyed stare leaves me feeling pinned, like there is no way I could possibly hide from him. But then, why would anyone ever want to? It’s like he is studying me through the screen, like he can see what is inside of me, my darkest secrets, my deepest desires. Just looking at him makes me feel…naked. No clothes, no skin, my very soul is exposed.
A chill runs up my spine and goose-bumps cover my arms. I want to look away, but I can’t. His jaw is strong, his jaw muscles tensed in a slight frown. Whoever took the picture must have caught him off guard. Those muscles lead down to a thick, strong neck. My mouth waters, and I swallow hard as my eyes start to burn, unwilling to blink for fear I won’t ever see him again. His cheek bones are high and sharp, his nose perfection. His lips are almost pornographically full, top and bottom in perfect proportion. His shirt hangs open, just a few buttons loose, the muscles in his shoulders and upper pectorals defined and so strong....
“Did you just come, Melyssa?” Paige laughs.
I feel my face burn for a different reason: embarrassment.
“No....” My voice cracks and she laughs again.
“He’s hot,” Paige agrees. “But...from what I’m seeing here, he may already be taken by one of our girls. So...let’s just put this away, shall we?”
When she tosses her phone back into her handbag, I feel like I’ve experienced a deep, personal loss. Not because I fell in love with this guy at first sight, or anything lame like that. It’s more like...finding out a priceless painting has been stolen. Like, I feel pain for all those people who won’t get to experience the beauty of it.
I for one, am pretty sure I’m never going to see a man that perfect, ever again.
“We need to get going,” Paige says, snapping me out of my moment of funk. “The restaurant is only ten miles away, but traffic around here is a bitch, and I wanna get there before Laney and Nikki.”
*.*.*
When Laney and Nikki walk into NY Steakhouse, Nikki shrieks, startling several unsuspecting diners as they make a beeline towards us. Paige and I meet them half way, just as excited as they are. We hug and laugh, annoying more uptight New Yorkers in the process.
After the big greetings are over, I hone in on Laney.
“Okay spill it,” I grab her hand and pull her to the table, to sit next to me.
“When did y’all get in? This is crazy, no one told me.” “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Paige says, as she sits on the other side of Laney. “Who cares? The man, the one with the abs, like….”
I notice Laney scowl and kick Paige under the table, “Ouch, Mel.”
“Will you introduce me to your friends, Laney?” We look up to see the man from Laney’s Instagram, the one who has allegedly shared her bed, standing there, staring intensely at her.
She doesn’t even look at him. Uh oh. Trouble in sex paradise?
“I’m Dominic Segretti, a friend of Abe’s.” He introduces himself to us and shakes our hands.
“I’m Paige.”
“I’m Mel.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” He speaks in a thick Italian accent—delicious!—and I can’t help imagining that’s what the dark-eyed guy from the picture must sound like.
“I think we’ve already seen you,” Paige says. I kick her again, harder this time. “Ouch!”
Dominic smiles. “You’re referring to the photo I posted last night. I should have told Laney, I am a jealous man.”
“Well, Giddy up mother—ouch,” Paige snaps and looks at me, shooting daggers with her eyes.
The waitress brings wine to the table. Dominic only has eyes for Laney. “This is a much better brand than the one from the hotel bar. I think you’ll enjoy it.” He pours a glass for her first and then fills ours as well. “Is she always this quiet?”
“Only when she’s pissed,” I answer.
“I’m going to see where Nikki is.” Laney stands and walks toward the ladies’ room.
“Please excuse me for a moment,” Dominic follows her.
Paige and I look at one another, both of us clearly confused.
“I’ll drink to that,” she lifts her glass of wine.
“To what?” I ask.
“I have no clue, but whatever the hell is going on around here isn’t going to ruin this wine for me,” she says. “It’s delicious, so let’s drink to the wine.”
I raise my glass to Paige’s awkward toast and then take a drink. That’s when I finally get it, the meaning of Page’s toast. I almost choke on the next sip.
If only I had someone to follow me into a bathroom stall. Sigh....
“Hello,” I look up at the voice, and am immediately speechless. My mouth dries up like the Sahara, and my stomach does the Macarena. I feel butterflies, tingles, the swell of a thousand-voice choir of angels, you name it.
It’s him.
The effect he has on me is out of this world. I am suddenly anxious that he’ll know how I feel, yet...at the same time, I want him to look at me, to see me, to see what he does to me—because I couldn’t hide it if I wanted to, and as much as I have kept those inner desires secret for most of my life, somehow I know...he knows exactly what I secretly want.
My eyes are trained on him, and nothing else. Also, I’m pretty sure my mouth is hanging open.
“Mel,” Paige whispers.
“Yes?” I whisper back, still looking at him.
“You okay?” There is a playful note in her voice. I regretfully tear my eyes away from him, to look at her.
I scowl, I know I do, because I want to see him the moment he looks at me, I want to see that I hold the same kind of interest to him. I nod and grab for my glass, watching him bend over to talk to Abe. They fall easily into conversation, ignoring us ladies completely. I’ve never really considered myself an attention whore, but at the moment...I really want to make a scene. Something. Anything, to get him to look at me.
Finally, he sits down at the table. I wait for his eyes to meet mine. When they do, he sizes me up for only a moment, and then looks at Paige. He nods to her, even though he didn’t nod to me. He isn’t interested. My stomach drops to the floor. Yet, somehow, even knowing that doesn’t quiet my desperation. The desire I feel for him might be one sided, but damn if it isn’t strong.
Abe introduces him to the rest of us as Sabato Efisto. Even his name is sensual, and I want to whisper it to myself to see how it feels on my tongue. No one hears me, and I feel a little thrill at the thought of getting away with it. I half listen to his and Abe’s conversation and pick up on a passing mention of a dinner at his club in New Jersey.
My heartbeat quickens, knowing he will be so close to me. I allow myself to imagine studying until the wee hours. Sabato coming to me after, when he closes his club. I imagine he is interested in what I have to say. That he brings me coffee and quizzes me on torts and case study before kissing me, touching me, wanting me.
I imagine Sabato naked, filling me with his...oh, God, am I drooling?
“You ladies are more than welcome to join us tomorrow night,” Sabato says, deep eyes looking only at Paige. The club will officially open in a week. Tomorrow will be more of an...intimate evening. Drinks, dinner, and entertainment.”
His last word—entertainment—is the only word directed at me. Sabato’s dark eyes seem to slice through me when he says it. My mouth opens slightly as I try to stifle a gasp of surprise—and excitement.
Laney and Dominic return to the table then, but she doesn’t look happy. Maybe Paige’s suspicions about what was going down in the restroom—or, who was going down—were wrong. They had to be, right? Otherwise, there’s no way Laney would not be looking happy.
Dominic looks at Sabato. “What brings you by?”
Sabato doesn’t reply. For a long moment, he just stares at Dominic.
Finally, I blurt out, “He invited us to a dinner at his new club, before he officially opens.”
I look out of the corner of my eye to see how he reacts to my voice, hoping he finally
feels the connection I do. I mean, how could he not? I’m such a stunningly gifted conversationalist. Right?
But...no. Nothing.
“Opening sooner than expected?” Dominic asks.
“Things are moving faster, yes.” He looks uncomfortable with the conversation—almost annoyed. “Father and his associates are coming in two days.”
“Here?” Dominic’s voice is concerned.
“I think it will actually work out better than planned.” Abe winks.
“So, will you ladies be joining us?” This time, when Sabato asks, he is looking at me—only at me.
“Probably not a good idea,” Dominic says. I am immediately deflated.
“Why is that?” Sabato asks, as his eyes slowly continue skimming up and down my body.
“We can discuss it later,” Dominic is annoyed now, too.
“Did you find a place today?” Paige asks Laney, changing the subject.
I know I should be interested in the conversation, but I am still watching Sabato look at me like I’m suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.
His eyes practically molest me as his fingers strum on the table. He turns his body towards his friends, but keeps glancing at me every so often. I make sure he knows I haven’t forgotten about him, either. My pulse quickens as I watch his hands move. They are beautiful, just like the rest of him. I wonder desperately what they’d feel like on my....
“Mel has news.” Paige says.
What? I do? Oh, yes. Right.
Again, I am forced to rejoin reality, stepping outside the fantasy I have going on in my mind.
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I was accepted into Cornell’s accelerated pre-law program, starting this summer.”
“So, you’re really going to do it?” Laney looks genuinely happy for me, in spite of whatever’s going on with her and Dominic.
“I think so. I have a meeting with admissions on Monday. My focus won’t be that much different. I see it as social work, but on a larger scale. I will still focus on women and children’s advocacy though, you know, fighting for the greater good.”
“Your parents must be so proud.”
“They are.” I look up at Sabato, whose eyes are fixed on me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He looks away and I think I see his eyes roll.
I am crushed.
*.*.*
Paige has been asleep for hours, but I am still wide-awake.
I’ve fallen into an Instagram rabbit hole, cyber-stalking Sabato. God, I love his name. In Italian, it means someone was born on a Saturday, considered the Sabbath. Apparently, it’s a good omen.
And, I think it’s safe to say that I am fixating.
I am a good person, most of the time. I want to be a good person. I try to be a good person, but lately...I have changed. No one has noticed the change, because I’ve hidden it well.
In college, I dated… a lot. I wanted to feel that earthquake-inducing attraction everyone always talks about. I wanted that ‘once in a lifetime’ chemistry to happen to me, so badly. So I forced it. First I would fixate on a guy, flirting with him until he asked me out on a date, and another, and another. Finally, when that build up of physical temptation was nearly too much to handle, when I was sure that all of this desire for me was real, I’d let him kiss me. And kiss me. And kiss me.
When the kissing stopped getting me hot and bothered, I would let him touch me. Always breasts first, nothing below the waist. If that felt good, I would let him lay on me and rub against me, Levi-loving style. Some call it ‘dry humping.’ Doesn’t really matter what you call it, though, the aim is the same:
Friction.
Friction, I discovered, felt good.
I would lay there, eyes closed tight, getting dry humped into oblivion and thinking of Zac Efron, or Theo James or either of the Hemsworth brothers. And yes, sometimes I felt a slight fizzle of heat between my legs, but that was always contained by the fabric between us.
There were only twenty, real-life men who I allowed myself to get close to, in a sexual way.
Twenty men who I dated, kissed, allowed to touch me, and rub on me.
Twenty men who pretended to fuck me, while I pictured someone else.
Twenty men tried to get in my pants, and I denied them access.
Twenty men all eventually grew tired of trying to fuck me.
And twenty men who had told me to my face, in one way of another, that I wasn’t worth the effort.
I, Melyssa Chance, am a tease.
In my defense, though, if the build-up to a kiss, that sweet burning anticipation, is inevitably snuffed by said kiss? Then why on Earth would I have sex with a guy, just to find out that experience is also much worse than I imagined? Not to mention, after the disappointment, comes the disappearing act. Once they got what they wanted from me, poof! On to the next challenge, the next ‘unattainable’ girl.
I don’t care if a girl has fifty partners. I’m not here to judge that. Let me remind you I have been ready to give it up twenty times in four years. But if you don’t feel it, then why do it? It’s not like you have some kind of written obligation to see it through, and finish what you start. Though, God knows some guys will make you feel that way. Expectations are made to be let down. Feelings, emotions, attachments, and broken promises lead to hurt. I have spent years avoiding hurt, and yet, I still managed to pick up some scars along the way.
For the longest time, I was afraid I was cursed to live without lust. Then I realized, I had the drive, but my vagina was a tricky vehicle to operate. No one bothered to give me a user manual, so I just spent years feeling like I was broken.
I am sure I have been cursed with the Elsa of vaginas. I may thaw out a bit, get worked up, but when it came right down to it. I was—frozen.
But I gave it the ‘old college try,’ as they say. Now I’m left facing the fact that my dirty desires will probably always be much better off, just living in my head.
I did it again tonight, with Sabato, whose name still makes my long-dormant nether regions purr with excitement.
I lay back and try to erase him from my mind, but no matter how many Hollywood hunks I try to replace him with, nothing works.
*.*.*
We pull into an empty parking lot, stopping in front of a sign that reads: Steelettos.
Paige bounds out of the car like an excited puppy—or a dog in heat, take your pick—while Laney just seems annoyed. I know she likes this Dominic guy, but typical of Laney, she acts like she’s more pissed off than she really is. My kind of girl, she likes to make them suffer and beg, so she knows it’s real. Apparently, Nikki is already here with Abe. He didn’t want her to go with him, but she insisted.
Laney warns us that this club is different.
“Okay, so some of the things we see in there tonight might seem kind of...hard core. But don’t worry, nothing is going to happen to you. At least, not without your permission.”
She looks at me—the virgin of the crew—like I should be upset, but I’m not. Actually, I am very intrigued. According to Laney, Steelettos’s staff is made up of scantily clad Amazon women who don’t speak English. Very exotic! And...well. There is always Sabato.
Sabato.... I tease his name with my tongue, and it teases back.
I adjust my boobs as we walk in. My intention was for them to play a bit of peek-a-boo, but now they’re kind of spilling out of this balconette bra. I chose to wear a shorter and slightly more revealing than normal black dress, too, hoping maybe it would call attention to the assets Sabato was checking out before.
Inside, the lighting is soft, there is artwork on the walls and a large, dark, wooden table set up in the middle of the room. I find that odd, for a club. Shouldn’t there be a bar in the middle, or a dance floor, instead? I assume, because it’s set, that dinner will be held here.
Across the room I spot Nikki, Abe, and another man I don’t recognize. Nikki waves us over and we join them. When I am introduced to Benito, he shakes my hand and kisses it. It makes
my skin crawl. His eyes are black with no life in them.
Sabato and a man walk out into the club next, from a room just beyond the one we’re in. From what Dominic said before, I assume it’s Sabato’s father, but the resemblance pretty much stops at...tall. Sabato introduces him to everyone, and when he introduces me, I nearly shudder at the way his tongue caresses my name. After the introductions, the older Efisto kisses my cheeks—the foreign way, and then walks over to Benito and nods towards me. They make no attempt to hide the fact that they’re talking about me.
“Voglio mangiargli la fica.” Mr. Efisto says, and they both look me up and down. I catch a glimpse of Sabato from the corner of my eye. His lips curl in distain and he looks away from me. What they said upset him, and I want to know why. I also want to know what ‘Voglio mangiargli la fica,’ means.
But I don’t get a chance to ask Laney to ask Dominic; because we never get a moment alone and also...they’re apparently still fighting. We all sit to eat. Sabato ends up across from me. I look up at him and he leans back in his chair and stares at me.
Stares. At. Me.
Three women come in through a side door, carrying trays of food. After what Laney kind of explained to us before, I thought I would be prepared. I wasn’t. Amazon had not been a joking term. We might as well be getting invaded by an army of Victoria’s Secret models. They are dressed in leather, strappy one-piece thingies, with matching thigh high boots.
I glance back at Sabato to gauge his reaction, but miraculously he is still staring at me. I swallow hard, but refuse to look away.
“Is that them?” Paige whispers into my other ear, and I nod, once. “Wow, this place is that kind of club huh?”
When I don’t answer, she nudges me, forcing me to look at her.
“How do you think they pee in those things?” Her eyes look like they’re going to pop out of her head. I can’t help but stifle a giggle.
When I turn back, one of the women is bending to whisper in Sabato’s ear. Christ! No way can those be real! Oblivious to the boob explosion, he nods and waves her off. Then he looks back at me. My jealousy dies out in a fizzle, when compared to the heat in his eyes.
