by Vivien Vale
The dance floor is bustling, with men and women dressed to the nines. Some come to land a conquest for the night, while others simply want to enjoy a night out on the town in fashionable style. I tip my hat to all of them.
If the girls are impressed, they hide it well. But this isn’t about impressing anyone.
My main goal is to keep Nicole’s mind off Ryan, but I also want to get to know her better. I slip one arm around each of their waists, keeping them close to me while we head to the VIP section upstairs.
I must look like a real fucking Don Juan strutting through the club with a gorgeous chick on either arm—and yet the only one I have eyes for is the blazin’ brunette that’s betrothed to my fucking asshole of a best friend.
What shitty luck.
Allison is already sashaying to the music as we enter the lounge, nudging me with her hip while Nicole’s eyes are everywhere, taking it all in.
Nicole is dressed in a hot-to-do sparkly silver number that makes it damn near impossible to keep my eyes level. They keep gliding down her backside, following her perfect curves to her sexy derriere.
All this on display, and no fiancé to be found. Pity.
Nicole takes a seat on one of the plush couches, crossing her long, lean legs in such a seductive manner that I feel like I’ve got a front-row seat to my own version of Basic Instinct.
I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t an inkling of arousal happening in my pants.
I sit next to her, and we order drinks, which come in record time. It’s just one of the many perks of being a VIP.
“Not bad for a night out, huh? Aren’t you glad you came?” I raise my glass to the girls in a mock salute.
A Negroni for me and a Bellini for the girls—typical Italian cocktails that go hand in hand with any night on the town.
“I’ve never been here before, but it’s quickly becoming one of my favorites!” Allison chirps up from her high-back chair, clearly feeling the vibe in the club.
“But of course, my lady. I’m the envy of all the men here. A gorgeous girl on either arm, you can’t beat that,” I smile my best roguish smile and wink at Nicole.
She chuckles, and her smile makes my heart jump. She’s stunning as it is, but her face really lights up when she smiles.
“You’re a real tomcat, aren’t ya?”
“You wound me, bellissima,” I dramatically throw the back of my hand over my face while clutching my chest.
Cocking an eyebrow, she laughs. “Am I wrong, though?”
“Tonight’s not making a good case for me, is it?”
“Ya think?” she grins.
“Curse my good luck with the opposite sex…so which one of you am I taking home?”
That gets her, and she laughs a beautiful laugh. A song to my ears, and it’s not long before all I see is her.
Allison is preoccupied with chatting up one of the camerieres, and I’m quite relieved, because now I can devote my attention the only place I want to.
It’s so weird, this effect Nicole’s having on me. Since I laid eyes on her, she’s occupied so much real estate in my head that I could literally own half of fucking Manhattan by now.
Allison begs off shortly after our first round of drinks, waxing poetic about an ex-lover that she’s just found again.
“Not a problem,” I say. “Leave Nicole to me, I’ll make sure she gets back safe and sound.”
Somehow, our conversation drifts to university, and I discover that she was an art major, too. Granted, I only took art because I didn’t want to fucking study, but evidently, Nicole has a real passion for it.
“Ryan never told me that you went to school for art, let alone that you were good at drawing.”
“Well, he thinks it’s childish and doesn’t like it when I do it, so I haven’t in a while.”
What the actual fuck? Who is this guy?
How dare he tell Nicole what she can and can’t do? The longer we talk, the more I’m convinced that she’s too fucking good for him.
“Well, I’d love to see something sometime.”
She’s more than happy to oblige and grabs a pen from the table, her fingers brushing mine. A brief charge of electricity makes us lock eyes before mine drift to her red-stained lips.
She quickly looks away and sketches a picture of the canal on the back of a napkin.
I watch her intently, taking it when she’s done.
The details are so vivid, from the graceful arches to the shadowing, you’d think she was staring at the canal as she drew. The fact that this is all from memory is mind-blowing.
“Holy shit, that’s amazing,” I blurt out as I look between her and the sketch. I can swear I see the hint of a blush on her cheeks.
I normally prefer my women to be bold and feisty, but there’s something so fucking sexy about Nicole’s shyness that I want to take her in my arms right here, right now.
Ah-ha!
There’s one way I can do that without committing the ultimate fucking faux pas.
“Ooh, they’re playing my song.”
I’m lying, but she doesn’t need to know that this is all a ruse to get her close to me.
“Care to dance?” I get up and extend my hand to her.
“Umm…”
The hesitation on her face speaks volumes, but if I’m not mistaken, there’s a certain heat in her eyes.
“I don’t bite…hard. Unless you ask me to, of course…that’s a totally different story,” I wink.
“Okay, okay, let’s go,” she smiles as she takes my hand. “Ryan doesn’t like to dance, so I want to get it out of my system!”
More shit Ryan doesn’t like. Is there anything the prick does like? Come to think of it, I don’t want to answer my fucking question.
But seriously—what the fuck does she see in him?
I lead her almost to the center of the floor, and to my surprise, she immediately lets loose. Her hips are shaking in time to the music, and she’s got her arms up in the air, pulsing to the beat.
Not only is she a fox, she can really get down on the dance floor. She’s standing with her ass to my groin, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control to not pull her close and show her the chaos she’s thrown my cock into.
“You’re pretty fucking good at this,” I lean down and whisper in her ear.
She pulls her hair over her opposite shoulder and leans in.
Down, boy.
“What was that?” she yells, so I can hear her over the music.
“I said, you’re really fucking good at this!”
At that moment, her sexy ass grazes the front of my pants, and I’m powerless to stop the soldier attempting to stand at full mast. I can feel my cock pushing against the confines of my slacks, and I attempt to think of several sad things to make it stop.
It’s no use. He’s got a mind of his own, and right now, he’s ready to take a dip.
Nicole looks over her shoulder at me as she sways, and the passion in her eyes matches exactly what I’m feeling right now.
It’s almost like she knows what she’s doing to me.
I move closer to press my chest against her back, and my hand brushes the curve of her waist.
Instead of moving back right away, I wait for her reaction. A seductive smile plays on her lips, almost like she knows what I’ve done and has no plan to chastise me for it.
All she has to do is push me away, and I’m more than happy to oblige.
I’m a gentleman, after all.
When the back of her hand brushes up against my thigh, I start to think that this is happening too much to be coincidental. My body is thoroughly heated up, and not because of the crowd on the dance floor or the exercise I’m getting.
There’s only one reason I’m on fire, and her name is Nicole.
I lightly take her hand, leading her off the floor.
“I need to cool down, too hot out there,” I lie.
Truth is, if we keep going like this, my lips are going to claim hers no matter how
many fucking people are watching.
She’s got a light sheen of sweat on her face and arms, but she’s all smiles, and I know that she’s enjoying herself.
We enjoy one more drink together before deciding to head back to the hotel.
I hire a gondola to take us down the canal, and it’s painstaking sitting next to her and not being able to do a damn thing about it.
“That was so much fun, thanks for the night out,” she smiles at me.
“Anytime. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. A beautiful lady like you has no business being cooped up in a hotel room all night when there’s fun to be had.”
I make the mistake of looking up at her. Her face is dangerously close to mine. Our eyes connect.
“We’re here!” the gondolier says, snapping us both back to reality.
We walk to the front of the hotel, and the silence between us is deafening.
“Um…”
“Okay, well…”
We talk at the same time.
“Heh,” I chuckle, “have a good night.”
“Yeah…good night.”
We both head to our rooms.
Holy shit.
I was seconds away from kissing her.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Nicole
NO!
I’m not sure if I screamed it out loud, or if it’s part of my dream.
I’m slow to wake up. I’m tossing and turning under the sheets in the lush suite at the Aman, clinging to pieces of my hazy dreams.
In them, Ryan finally made an appearance. But we were on different gondolas, passing each other on the canal and each going in opposite directions. We’re going to the same wedding! I wanted to shout in my dream, but somehow, no words came out, and he didn’t seem to see me.
Then there was the extravagant bar at the club and the Italian bartender marrying us. I turned to face the groom, my husband, and couldn’t make out his face. There was Dante, taking me home, and we said goodnight outside the suite.
Suddenly, I’m wide awake.
Dante!
Last night. Did we? I shake my head.
No, he didn’t kiss me.
For the briefest of seconds, I might have hoped he’d kiss me, but he didn’t.
A hot flash of confusion washes over my body, and I feel both guilt and pleasure. I kick off the sheets and shake myself fully awake. It was a dream—nothing happened!
Dante the gentleman simply took me out and brought me back home safe, at the request of Ryan, my fiancé.
It hits me fully.
This is it.
Today is my wedding day!
By tonight, I’ll be Mrs. McCray, and Ryan and I will be united forever. My mind flashes forward to the wedding night. I sink back on the bed and lustfully slide a hand between my legs, the other over my breasts.
“Oh, Ryan,” I voice to my image of him gently lowering himself over me, his face close. But as I get excited and wet, it’s Dante’s sweet features swimming in my imagination.
The room phone rings and interrupts my moment.
“Rise and shine,” Allison chirps. “Last day as a virgin! Today is your day!”
If only she knew how caught I feel. I mumble good morning, and she interprets my quiet response her own way.
“Still no word from Ryan?”
I scroll through my phone. “It’s weird, because he’s getting my messages, but he’s not replying.”
“He better be here soon,” Allison growls.
I don’t want to picture the alternative.
“I’ll be up in a minute, and we can order breakfast in while I help you with the dress and we put the finishing touches on your killer outfit. What do you think?”
“That sounds great, Ally, thanks. You’re the best!” I don’t even ask where she is or why she’s not in the room.
I stroll into the luxurious bathroom of the finest Italian marble to take a shower. But my mind is still lingering on the dreamy mix-up of Ryan and Dante, so I turn the water ice cold to snap out of it.
Shivering, I wrap myself in a silk robe. Allison arrives just as room service delivers the sizable breakfast she ordered.
“Ally, who’s going to eat all that?” I exclaim as the waiters bring in trays upon trays of crispy rolls, fette biscottate, buffalo mozzarella, prosciutto, sour cherry and apricot jam, and strudel di mele.
“You said you were going to eat what you want now!”
“If I eat all this, I’m not going to fit in my wedding dress,” I protest.
The wedding dress. We sit in silence and sip strong Italian coffee, looking at the flared white dress laid out on my bed.
“I’m in no mood to put it on,” I confess.
Again, Allison assumes I’m just worried about Ryan—when I’m also thinking of Dante.
“So, no word from Ryan practically since we got here? I can’t believe that guy!”
I only nod.
We just met, but I feel I’ve known Dante so much longer since we connected over so many different things—the beauty of Venice, drawing and art, music…and dancing. I can’t help but recall how close we were on the dance floor last night.
Why am I so drawn to this man when I’m about to marry another? Ryan, I remind myself, the man of my dreams.
But what played out in my head last night has shown me that I can dream differently.
I get up with a drawn-out sigh.
“Let’s get you into that dress,” Ally says.
As I slide off my robe, she giggles. “If we send a picture like that to Ryan right now, you’d have a lightning speed response.”
Allison helps me adjust the subtle train of the dress to the perfect length and picks out shoes for me.
“You look absolutely gorgeous,” she says as I turn in front of the full-length mirror.
I easily find the striding movements of my beauty queen days again and admire myself. I have to say, the red shimmer of the dress gives me a royal appearance. I’m a princess bride, so where is my prince?
As if she’s read my mind, Allison pipes up with “If Ryan doesn’t marry you, I swear…” I pretend I didn’t hear her comment.
“Thanks to Dante, we’re following the old tradition of carnival masks, and I’ve got a new dress,” I say instead. “I’m wearing blue panties, now all I need is…”
“Something borrowed,” Allison completes my thought. “I gotcha, sister.”
And she brings out these delicate diamond earrings of white gold.
They’re of subtle and enchanting beauty, and they complement my dress perfectly. I know they’ve been in Allison’s family for generations and that she herself hardly wears them for lack of special occasions.
So the fact that she let me have them for my wedding instead of saving them for her own shows me what a true friend she is. I tear up as I put on the earrings.
“Oh, Nicole, you’re welcome,” Allison says as I turn to her.
“Ally,” I sob, “what if…what if Ryan doesn’t show up?!”
“He will,” she reassures me, “he will. Just look at you, you’re the most stunning bride ever.”
“But he isn’t here yet!” I cry out.
She hugs me softly and carefully, wanting to comfort me without wrinkling the dress.
Oh, how did I end up in this mess? My heart sinks, and I’m absolutely desperate. Despite my earlier confusion, the possibility of Ryan not showing up, the thought of being left alone at the altar fills me with dread. I feel sheer and utter panic rising within me.
For once, Allison has no comeback and the misery washes over me like a huge wave, threatening to drown me.
As we stand in the middle of the room, me sobbing and she at a loss for words, there’s a soft but firm knock on the door.
“I’ll see who that is.”
As Allison goes to check on the door, I sniff and dry my eyes. Then I hear her muffled voice at the entrance to the suite.
“What are you doing here now?”
I’m all
ears. Who is she talking to?
“The nerve,” Allison hisses, trying to keep her voice down. “First, no word from you, and now this!”
Ryan?
“You know you’re not supposed to see the bride before the ceremony. But you could have… do you know how she feels because of you?!”
“Who is it?” I walk hastily towards the door.
“Wrong room,” Allison quickly says and tries to shut the door, but a hand pushes her back.
A man steps in. It’s Ryan—in his complete costume and mask.
I gasp. I’m so taken aback, I can’t even say his name. I cover my mouth as surprise, joy and relief nearly sweeping me off my feet.
With quick, determined steps, he starts walking towards me. He takes my hand firmly into his and places an arm around my waist.
I sling my arms around his neck, overjoyed that he’s finally here. He gently dips me back and leans in for a daring before-the-wedding kiss.
“Oh, Ryan, I think we’re not supposed to do this,” I whisper, but it feels so good he’s finally here that I give in.
It’s electric, and where before I had no energy and was completely down, a live wire tingling makes me light-headed and dizzy. He keeps pressing his lips against mine, and I reach to run my hand through his hair, which feels different, soft, exciting. Breathless, I open my mouth, and his tongue against mine delivers a whole new range of feelings, gentle and sweet.
My heart is fluttering like all the pigeons we’d seen in the Piazzo San Marco, and I’m screaming inside.
This is it, this is my wedding day! The moment I’ve been waiting for! All the pieces of my life are coming together to form a precious new picture, like the tile mosaics in the Basilica here in Venice.
All this must be coming from the city, this historic and beautiful place, and the special time of carnival. Because if this is Ryan in front of me, he’s either very changed, or… I don’t complete the thought. Instead, I start dreaming about all the art I could create with this incredible energy if it remains between us like this.
My eyes reluctantly flutter open after the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life as Ryan pulls back slowly.
“Ryan,” I manage, panting, “where have you been? Why haven’t you responded to my messages?”
I reach to take off his mask, but he stops my hand. He places a finger over my mouth to still my questions and just says, “I’ll explain later, Nicole. I’ll see you at the ceremony.”
