by Mara Lynne
“This way, Angel,” he says as he leads me to a chaise facing the huge ceiling to floor glass window that overlooks the striking nightscape of the metropolitan. He sits on the couch adjacent to it.
I dread the silence that wraps the entire room. All we do is listen to the air passing through our nostrils. Damien watches me blaze with heat with those piercing stares. The silence doesn’t give me time to calm myself. It makes my discomfort even worse. I can count the loud beating of my heart joined by the consequent throbbing of my fingers. I don’t know if initiating the conversation is a good idea. I don’t even know how to start.
“Angel,” he says.
Finally!
“Please let me know why you’re here,” he continued
He should know.
“I assume you know,” I reply, meeting his gaze.
He leans forward with his hands clasped together.
“Please tell me the offer is still on.”
“I want you to tell me what you specifically want, Angel.” His voice is so goddamn sexy that I start to curse myself. Ray is right.
“The payment you offer for…” I pause as doubt resurfaces in my head. I can’t say the word.
“For what, Angel?”
“F-for…”
Can I really do it? I ask myself again.
Can I?
“Angel?”
“For sex.”
He leans back on the couch, his face forming a reserved smile.
“One-night stand,” I add, looking down the floor, feeling the warmth of mortification spread across my cheeks and the twisting of my stomach. I can already feel his eyes wanting to see more than the blushes. They won’t leave me alone.
“Ask me again, Angel.”
I press my lips together as I find no words to describe how I feel.
“I just want to let you know that I’m doing this because I need the money badly,” I say.
He rises from his seat, goes straight to the table, and pulls out something from the drawer. “You should have notified me earlier, Angel. You see, I don’t have a million dollars in my drawer, and I’m afraid my vault is empty.”
“I’m okay with installments,” I reply.
He turns to face me with a piece of paper on his hands. It looks like a check.
“Five grand upfront and another five grand after tonight if you please me. Tomorrow, if my mother doesn’t find my bank transaction a little suspicious, I might withdraw five-hundred grand, and the other half next week.”
Ten thousand dollars for tonight then. I won’t be leaving his penthouse empty handed.
“That works for me.”
“Okay then. I’ll hold onto this for a while,” he says as he places the check back in the drawer. “Shall we get started?”
I sigh. This is a bit weird. I feel like we’re doing business together, so detached and all about money and gains.
“Can I use the restroom?” I ask as Damien walk closer to me. The soft footsteps he makes amplify the strong noise in my heart.
“Sure.”
“Thanks,” I answer, trying to maintain a composed front.
“It’s in there.” He points at the door behind me. It must be his bedroom because it’s the only huge door in his flat with gold carvings on it. Damien leads me inside, and I am astounded to see how huge his bed is, still all crumpled. The picture of lying on that bed with him quarries a hole at the pit of my stomach. A sudden shiver trails from my nape down my spine.
It is not a surprise to see his bedroom having all this extravagance. It must be great to wake up in a room like this every day, seeing the gigantic crystals of the chandeliers the moment you open your eyes.
“Angel.” He cocks his head to the direction of the bathroom.
My gaze quickly shifts from the bed to the huge door.
“Don’t take off your undergarments. I like a little challenge.” His smirk resurfaces.
My cheeks blush as a smile breaks through my defenses.
I recall Hannah’s appearance. She was wearing this rather large polo shirt. I wonder if I should look like her. In movies, I see women dress like her.
“I will need to borrow a towel and a shirt.”
Damien turns away and heads to a walk-in closet. My eyes feast on its size. I could see walls of cabinets that most probably contain all his expensive designer clothes. It is also well lighted. I am too overwhelmed with its sophistication that I hardly notice his return. He’s carrying a clean cotton towel and a light blue polo shirt.
My pulse quickens as I receive them from him.
“I’ll be waiting for you, Angel,” he whispers.
I scurry into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.
I know this feeling is expected. I should have known that this sucks. I don’t like how it twists my insides and how it mixes the coldness and warmth in my body. Not even the grand bathroom could appease the monster that is going berserk inside my chest. My head is spinning, and I am starting to lose control of what is going on in my mind.
Calming myself takes a while.
I’ve never done something like this my entire life, but I will have to do this because I need to. I took off all my clothes and hit the shower. I use the soap that is in there despite the fact that it’s Damien’s. I don’t mind smelling like him for tonight. I’d rather smell like him than…
Wait.
I pause from lathering the soap when I realize that I had already showered when I came back home a while ago.
Damn! So this is how I am when my head is flying like a bee— so clueless of what I am doing and repeating things just to give myself ample time for escape. I have not realized that I was just slowing down the night because I don’t want it to happen.
I jump out of the shower and reach for the towel hanging on the bar. I begin drying myself up.
I came here for one objective. Now that it is within my reach, I have no other reason to say no. I recall how I panicked when Damien left my sight a while ago. It felt so terrible to see him leave like that without saying a word. It was like hope left with him.
I am this close to a life free from problems.
I am this close to my ten thousand dollars.
Why let this opportunity slip away?
With only my undergarments and the polo shirt on, I leave the bathroom. I feel the cold wrapping my bare legs, but I force myself to stand in front of him. Damien is sitting on the couch just beside his bed. His legs are crossed together, and on his hand is a glass of whiskey.
The familiar warmth spread across my cheeks again when his eyes focus on me.
“Are you ready?” he asks, eyeing me over the rim of his glass.
I nod shyly.
He puts down the glass on the nightstand and stands up from the couch. Watching him walk toward me was the longest wait in my life. When he reaches me, he immediately rests his hands on my waist, pulling me close to him, our faces only an inch away.
I am literally frozen when I feel him harden on my belly. I feel so small and fragile when he touches me. I could only follow the movement of his mouth, looking for the right time and spot to land on my pale face.
His palms travel down from my hips to my lower back down again to my ass and push me up and closer to him that I gasp at the discomfort his erection brings on my abdomen. I feel my thighs shaking and the little thing in between pulsating.
“I like that sound,” he mumbles at the corner of my mouth. “Now,” he says as he pulls back from me and whispers on my ear, “take my shirt off.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
He steps forward and shows me the hem of his shirt.
“Go on.” His voice is gentle despite the huskiness and the menacing tone my ears hear.
I pull up his shirt over his head and slide them off his arms. His muscles and biceps look so different up close. I am struck to see a tribal tattoo on his chest trailing toward his left shoulder down to his muscular biceps. I’m afraid I feel a little something in the
pit of my stomach at the sight of that tattoo. It makes him so… I imagine Ray salivating when he sees him like this.
I shake my head when I realize that I am staring at it for quite too long.
Damien reaches for my hands, spreads my palms, and places them on top of his well-defined chest. I gulp at the thought of touching Damien Etheridge like this. His gray eyes darken, and they seem more serious than I have ever seen.
This is weird, really weird. My throat dries up as I see myself in the mirror burning red.
He slides up my hands to his neck so that they encircle him. We’re so close again that he’s looking down on me and I looking up at him. His hands cup my tiny waist.
For a while, we just stand there. His mouth lightly brushing the skin of my face as I start to feel ultra-sensitive. Even the air that comes out of his nose and mouth raises every hair in my body.
He scoops me in his arms and, the next thing I know, we’re already on the bed with him reclining on top of me. His eyes staring deep into my soul.
There’s nothing noisier in the entire room than my heartbeat and my ragged breathing.
“Touch me,” he demanded.
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
I drop my stare to the block of muscles in front of me. My breathing has become labored as I feel paralyzed under him. Both his arms are beside my head, pinning me down and blocking every route of escape. His legs are intertwined with mine.
I feel my lips trembling. “Damien, I’ve never done this before,” I speak.
“It’s alright.” His voice sends tingles from my ears and onto my face. His hands start to massage my waist down to my thighs. “Just do what I say. Touch me, Angel.”
I run my fingers through his skin, from his shoulders down to his chest and hard abdomen to the ridge of his pelvis. I don’t understand what I feel. My fingers feel so cold while the rest of my body are exploding with heat.
Damien begins to brush his lips to my throat, causing me to arch my back.
It’s really going to happen now. I just shut my eyes at the thought of it.
His fingers carefully unbutton my shirt. I can feel the labored rise and fall of my chest. I can’t open my eyes because I’m afraid of what I will see— his eyes filled with lust and danger. He looks a bit scary.
I feel so bare and vulnerable. I know his eyes are on my body. I just don’t know what his reaction is, and I won’t dare see.
Think of the ten thousand dollars, Angel, I keep telling myself.
My hand reflexively shuts my mouth to stop myself from squealing when the tip of his nose and soft lips land on the valley of my breasts. I feel his lips smirk against my skin. What’s so amusing? The discomfort grows stronger when his lips descend from the mass of my breasts popping out of my bra to my stomach and to someplace a little farther below.
His expert hands then travel from my legs to the inside of my thighs, spreading them apart. I have to clutch the bed sheet to prevent myself from squealing again.
The ten thousand dollars, Angel, I hear my conscience telling me.
Think of Dad and Mom…
My tears burst when I feel his breath threatening the entrance of my femininity.
“No, no, no,” I murmur.
“What’s wrong?” he asks as he pulls himself up, leveling himself up to me.
I cry, letting go of the trapped emotions inside me. “I c-can’t…”
“Sshh…” He squares his large hands on my face, calming me down. “Angel, it will be alright.”
“Damien…” I open my eyes. “I don’t know…”
“Angel, I thought you want to do this.”
“I do… but I don’t know…”
I see the frustration on his face. He turns to the other side of the bed and sighs deeply.
“Let’s call this a night,” he mutters.
I feel like protesting, yet I did nothing.
That’s it.
Nothing happened.
I let the opportunity slip through my fingers this time. I can’t say anything because I know Damien won’t listen.
I just said no.
“Stay there,” he says coldly as he turns his back on me and pulls the blanket over us “Sleep, Angel.”
Chapter 7: Losing Face, Gaining Hope
The air between us thickens with every passing second. We never talk since I woke up on his bed. I have no idea how I managed to doze off with Damien on the other side of the bed. I just know that I was biting my tongue the whole time last night so he wouldn’t hear me crying.
This morning, we have breakfast in his dining room. No talking, just pure clanking sounds of our utensils. I can’t look at him in the eyes because every time I recall what could have happened, I cringe. Despite everything, Damien still includes me in his breakfast. Never have I thought that he has some sense of obligation toward me. He could have kicked me out last night, but he didn’t. I wonder why.
His car pulls over in the parking space of the school grounds.
“This is us,” he says icily as he reaches for his bag from the back seat.
At the tip of my tongue is the question that might change everything again. I am thinking of asking him to try one more time tonight or tomorrow if he wants to. It’s really crazy how desperate I am. I have no idea what got to me last night. We were there on his bed. He was so close to me. I was so close to my one million dollars then it just vaporized into thin air after I started crying.
Fear? Yes and no.
Doubt? Yes and no.
I don’t know what it really was.
I was so determined last night that I thought my willpower would drive away all my fears. Perhaps it was because I am too smart to fool myself that it is an okay thing to do. Never will it be justifiable. Having sex with someone I don’t even love isn’t what my parents taught me growing up. I want my first time to be with the man I love not with the man who can pay for it. Call me the trying hard immaculate Angel Mohr but I never deemed myself doing it unless for procreation purposes. That’s pretty much the reason. I am too dignified to stoop that low. It was my impulse that stopped me. It was my inner voice.
“Damien,” I finally speak.
He turns to face me with those eyes, bombarding me with all the attention I cannot handle. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but after last night, I begin to feel really shy. It’s like my tongue retreats when he looks at me like this. His eyes are smoldering like he wants to rip me out of my clothes again just like last night.
What is this I’m feeling? It’s so new and strange, so intimidating and discomfiting. I want the feisty Angel back, the Angel who can readily answer in retaliation whatever this Damien fires at her. I want her back.
“Please don’t tell others.” I move my glare to my palms pressed onto my lap.
He nods.
I wish he will keep his promise. That serious look on his face shows pity for me. He might be thinking I am in dismay for not getting his money. Well, I am, and it shows on my face. Damien can’t just shower me with money, not without getting his part of the share, and I failed big time there. Charity isn’t his thing.
I gather my legs together, push the door open, and hop off. I feel his glare on my back, probably feeling bad for me. I don’t look back, and I don’t want to. If I do and see him feeling sorry for me, I might just blurt out what I have been thinking the whole time we were driving our way to school. He mustn’t think I am this desperate. He mustn’t know I am thinking of asking for a second try.
Looks like I’ll have to find another way. Damien is officially stripped off the title ‘my hope.’ It’s not like I’m going to look for another guy who is just like him, who has this big appetite for the thing financially desperate women can give. No, I’m not gearing toward that direction again. I’m going to find another ray of light.
I know I can do this. It’s not the time to feel weak and hopeless. I have a family needing my strength.
I walk straight across the hallway when
I see Ray running toward me looking so frenzied.
“Angel!” He gasps for air.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, wondering over his rather odd state. He appears like he has been chasing a toddler in a children’s party.
He pulls me to the corner where the bulletin boards are jammed with announcements.
“Where were you this morning?” His nose wrinkles and his clutch tighten. “I lied to Mr. Maxwell. I told him you were in the hospital taking care of your father. But obviously, you weren’t in the hospital. Were you with Etheridge?”
I hurriedly cup his mouth with my hand which he quickly avoided.
“Oh my God, you were!”
“Hush, Ray!” I look around and see people watching us. I bet they became a little interested the moment they heard Etheridge’s name.
I have no clue if I should tell him about last night. Ray is my friend, but last night is not something worth telling. It’s embarrassing and even degrading. Besides, I promised not to do it, but I did. Ray will be frustrated to no end when he finds out.
“So you were really with him.” His clutch loosens. “It’s true what those third years were gossiping about in the cafeteria.”
“What gossip, Ray?”
“They were talking about you coming out of Damien’s car. I asked you to make sure it isn’t true, but it looks like it is.”
“Oh, God, Ray. I think I am on everyone’s list now.” My voice cracks. “It’s not what they think.”
“You are now, Angel. You are on top of their hate list. They are like piranhas, I tell you. Right now, I think they want to be in your shoes.” His reproach is a bullet hitting straight into my heart. “Damien has never brought a girl to school. You’re the first, Angel!”
“I am? Really?” My lips curve into a smile. It’s quite shocking to hear that. I am the first girl he brought to school, and it amuses in an unusual way. I don’t know if I should rejoice, but I feel this little familiar discomfort in my tummy again, the same sensation I feel whenever Damien looks at me this morning.
Well, he is your first too, Angel! I thought to myself. He first touched you. He’s the first guy to have seen you almost bare. He’s got the firsts which you have been preserving for the man you’ll love.
