by C. T. Sloan
Carrie has found the man of her dreams. There is only one problem - the 21-year old Los Angeles receptionist can’t find the nerve to introduce herself to him. The young, shy girl can only watch as the tall, handsome, well-dressed man walks past her - at a downtown LA parking garage - each day.
Obsessed, Carrie finds herself stealing glances at the object of her affection. Something that doesn’t go completely unnoticed by the handsome, well-dressed man. When Carrie finds a handwritten note on the windshield of her car, she knows that the stranger has busted her.
“Let’s talk. Pick up the payphone near the elevator,” the stranger writes to the excited and nervous young Carrie. Not knowing what to expect, she makes contact with the man of her dreams.
“Do you like to get spanked?” “Do you love to be tied-down?” the stranger asks. Carrie can’t help but confess her secret desires to be dominated by an alpha male. And the stranger is more than happy to oblige. “I will rock your world under one condition - we remain strangers. We don’t learn each other’s name. We don’t know where each of us live. We meet, we play our games and then we leave.”
“Yes,” Carrie responds breathlessly. The couple meets at the infamous Chateau Marmont where the nervous and inexperienced young girl is introduced to the pleasures of submitting to the domineering and dashing alpha male. As the encounters continue, Carrie finds herself obsessed with finding out her handsome lover’s secret identity.
Encounters (The Alpha Stranger) Book 1
By C.T. Sloan
The following work is for private use only and may not be re-published, all or in part, without express written consent of the publisher.
Copyright 2012 MC73 Publishing
I can’t stop watching him. He is tall, maybe six feet, three inches tall. He has the stride of a confident man who answers to no one. And, best of all, the man knows how to dress. He always wears a tailored suit that shows off his broad shoulders, long legs and cute ass. Yes, I have a total crush on this man! There is only one problem. I don’t even know his name. You see, I encounter the object of my affection at about 6:00 every night when I leave my receptionist job. I have seen him at the same parking garage in downtown LA for the past week. My guess is that he is some lawyer or CFO or something. He can’t be older than 35. But he seems confident beyond his years.
It’s 5:50 p.m. I’m at the reception desk. My body is starting to get all tingly. Seeing that handsome stranger has become the highlight of my boring-as-hell job. Yeah, I know I should be thankful to have a full-time job at 21. But seriously, you can only answer so many phone calls a day before you go crazy.
At 6:00, I rush out of the office and ride the elevator to the ground floor. Then I hurry out of the building and head across the street to the parking garage. It’s always crowded around this time but you can’t mistake the handsome stranger. He stands out in the crowd. Everyone walks around with their head down with that haggard “worked a long day” stagger. The handsome stranger? He never looks tired. It’s as though the worries deflect off of his broad chest and chiseled jaw.
I loiter around the pedestrian entrance to the parking garage. I don’t see my handsome stranger yet. I begin to wonder if I have missed him. Dammit. This is seriously the only highlight of my day. If I don’t see him, it will irritate me for the rest of the evening. I wait about five more minutes before I give up and head to my car.
I walk up three flights of stairs. As I get off on level three, I hear the elevator doors open next to the stairwell. Usually, I avoid taking the elevators because they are slow and more often than not smell like homeless pee. As I walk, I listen to the murmuring of the various people getting off the elevator. Some are on their phones, others are engaged in conversation. Amongst the cacophony is the very distinct sound of sharp male shoes against the garage asphalt. I turn my head and see the handsome stranger.
His back is turned to me. Fuck! I can’t see his face. But I can see his shoulders, his legs and that very round rump of his. Yeah, he looks as good going and he does coming towards me. I just stand there and watch my obsession walk away from me. As I take a step towards him, I am nearly knocked over by a group of women headed to their cars. That jolts me back into reality. Alright, I got my eight seconds of thrill. That will have to hold me over until tomorrow.
***
It’s Friday. The end of the week is always slow at the office. I’ve been working reception at Cole Group for almost six months and I am not even sure what they do as business. I think they are an ad agency or a marketing research group. I have no idea. All I know is that everyone always seems to take off at around 4:30 on Fridays. By 5:15, it is a dead zone. It’s 5:30 right now. The office is so dead that I can actually hear the faint sounds of the janitorial crew rolling their cleaning carts onto the hardwood floors. To be honest, the only thing keeping me here is my hopeful 6:00 “handsome stranger” sighting. At 5:45, the officer manager walks past the reception desk and says, “You can leave if you want, Carrie.”
“Oh, that’s okay, I’ll stay for a few more minutes.”
“Wow. Usually, I have to worry about reception people leaving early. You are just the opposite. Good for you,” the office manager says as she walks off.
Yeah, little does she know I am delaying my weekend for one of the most pathetic reasons imaginable.
6:00 p.m.! I rush out of the office and head downstairs. I am one of the only people to leave the building. The traffic in downtown LA is lighter than usual. There are less than five people at the crosswalk leading up to the parking garage. I walk up to the pedestrian entrance of the parking garage and look around for that tall drink of sexy. Nothing. Perhaps my handsome stranger decided to start the weekend off early. Of course he did. As I walk up the garage stairs, I can hear the echoes of my own footsteps. There are only a handful of cars on each level of the garage. On the good side, I should be able to get home to my Culver City apartment in record time.
I reach level three and see my little Honda parked all alone. As I walk towards my vehicle, I notice someone from across the garage. It’s him! I can tell right away by that confident stride. I quickly run across the garage to catch a peek of my favorite handsome stranger. He is walking away from me again. Oh, so this will be two whole days I don’t get to see his gorgeous face, deep brown eyes and full lips. Oh well, at least I get a nice view of that butt!
Unlike yesterday, there is nothing standing between us. I keep about ten feet away from the suited stud. This is so weird. I used to stare at the man. With us all alone in this garage, I feel like a stalker! The stranger walks around a corner. I quickly turn to follow him when he stops in his tracks. Oh fuck. He knows he is being followed! I duck back behind the corner, holding my back up against the wall. I hear him turn around. I am so busted. I know he is looking back towards me. What do I do? If he comes back around the corner, he will know that it was me. I slowly peek my head around the corner.
I see the tall stud looking back towards me. I don’t think he has spotted me, though he is definitely looking around for someone. As I stare at him, my body freezes. I should go back to my car. Every few seconds I steal a peek at the handsome stranger’s face, I expose myself. The man looks around. Then, I swear, he makes eye contact with me. It’s only a split second moment. But in that moment, I am sure he sees me. The stranger turns back around and continues to walk away.
I nervously head back to my car. As I walk, I glance over my shoulder to make sure I am not being followed. The fact that the garage is nearly empty makes me so fucking nervous. I should not be playing these games. All I am doing is inviting danger by stalking some guy in a parking garage in downtown Los Angeles. I get into my car and just
sit there for a moment. I slap myself on the forehead. “Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!” I yell to myself as I start up the car. I pull out and drive towards the exit. As I make the turn down to level two, I swear I see the stranger in my rearview mirror. Oh fuck! Was that him?! I don’t know. Maybe I am hallucinating. Nevertheless, this is the last time I will be playing that game. One close call is enough.
***
The weekend flies by. While Friday night put me in a cold sweat, Saturday was a different story. I started fantasizing about the stranger again. It was enough for me to pull out my vibrator and go to town. Yes, it was a pleasant Saturday night indeed!
The employees at the Cole Group stagger in at around 9:00 a.m. I do my job, answer phones, write up guest passes and sign for FedEx and UPS packages. Before I know it, 6:00 p.m. rolls around and I am ready to get out of this place. I head out to the parking garage, a little more nervous about seeing that handsome stranger of mine. I know he may have seen me on Friday. I kinda hide behind the flow of people as I look for the well-dressed hunk of a guy.
Alas, there is no sign of him. Well, it is probably for the better. There are so many guys out in LA. Not many of them have the complete package as the complete stranger. Yeah, there are hot guys in Los Angeles. But many of them act like douchebags and dress like frat boys during rush week. It would be nice to find someone that has the looks and the style of the handsome stranger.
I walk up to level three and head to my little ole Honda. I open the door and get inside. As I turn on the ignition, I notice a piece of paper on one of the windshield wipers. What the fuck?! Did I get a parking ticket inside the garage?! I open the door and reach around to grab the paper. Wait a minute this isn’t a ticket. I step out of the car and open the paper. It’s a handwritten note. Oh fuck. I know this can only come from one person - the handsome stranger. I’ve been busted!
I nervously walk under one of the parking garage lights so I can read the message - “Let’s talk. Pick up the payphone by the elevator.” My eyes open wide. I look around the garage for the elevator. As I walk towards the payphone, I can feel my heart ready to beat out of my chest. People are walking in and out of the elevator but I can’t hear their conversations. All I can hear is my own heartbeat. Fuck! I can feel the blood rushing to my head.
I stand there silently next to the payphone. Suddenly, it rings. I jump. Then I just stare at the phone. Something tells me to run away. If I pick up that phone, I will be talking to the handsome stranger. If I pick up that phone, he will hear my voice. The phone rings again and again. Finally, I grab the phone and pick it up, placing the receiver to my ear.
“I know you have been watching me,” a deep voice says as I struggle to keep my composure. “Now, I have been watching you,” he continues. My hand begins to shake. I nearly drop the phone.
“I’m sorry,” I offer meekly.
“No, you’re not. You’re a sneaky little girl who likes to dip her hand in the cookie jar when no one is watching. I think you need a little discipline,” the stranger says as my face turns red. “I like the little black skirt you are wearing. I bet you have a little black thong under that skirt.”
I turn around and gaze out into the garage. I nervously place my left hand over my backside. Then it occurs to me, I am wearing a little black thong. “Lift up the back of your skirt and show me your ass,” the stranger demands.
At first, I am terrified by the stranger’s command. Then it sort of excites me. I look around to make sure no one else can see me. Then I quickly lift up the back of my skirt and giggle.
“Dammit. That’s a nice ass. Do you know what I would do to a little, young ass like that? I would do such bad things to your tight little rump,” the stranger says as I begin to pant.
“I can tell your nipples are getting hard,” the stranger says. I look down and see myself poking hard against my white button-up blouse. “Run your finger around your hard nipples. Do it now!” the stranger demands. I slowly take my index finger and begin to touch my breasts. I run my finger around my hard nipples. Then I start to gently scratch them. I hold the phone with my chin and begin to use both fingers to play with my own nipples. Dammit. I’m really starting to get off now.
The elevator doors suddenly open. About a dozen people file out. I quickly stop touching myself. The receiver slips off my chin and dangles from the payphone. I fold my arms over my chest to conceal my aroused state. After the people disappear from sight, I pick up the phone.
“You are a horny little girl,” the stranger says. “Let me ask you something, do you like to get spanked?”
“I loved to get spanked,” I confess.
“Do you like to be tied-up?”
Oh my goodness. I’ve never even entertained the thought. I nervously answer with, “I’ve never been tied-up.”
“Would you like to be tied-up?”
“Yes,” I say softly.
“Good,” the stranger says. The phone falls silent. I can hear him breathing. He can hear me panting. I know he is watching me. I love it.
“Come to the Chateau Marmont at Midnight tonight. Ask for a red envelope at the reception desk. Inside will be a key card for my room. Do not be one second late,” the stranger warns. He hangs up.
I look around the garage. My knees get weak. He has not even touched me and I feel as though I am on the verge of orgasm. I run to my car and close the door. I unbutton the top of my blouse and feel my own breasts. I begin to play with my nipples. Then I reach down and start to rub myself out. My face begins to turn red. The windows fog up. I’m close. I’m so close. I look to my right and see a man opening the car door next to me. All of a sudden, I stop. Fuck, now I am completely wound up. I turn on the car and head out of the garage.
As I drive back to my place, I keep looking at the digital clock on my car radio. It’s almost 7:00. Am I really going to go to the Chateau Marmont and meet the stranger? I want to so bad. I’m just nervous.
I get back to my apartment. My roommate, Deb, is in the living room watching TMZ. I usually watch the show with her. As I head to my bedroom, my roommate calls out, “What happened to you?”
I freeze and turn around. Deb looks me up and down. “Did you almost get into a car accident? Your hair and your blouse is undone.”
Damn, I haven’t looked in a mirror since my near-orgasm in the Honda. I must really look like a mess. “Oh, I just had a rough day at work. Listen, um, I’m going to be out late so I probably won’t be back in until the early morning.”
“Hot date?!” Deb asks.
I get rattled. “No. No! Um, I’m just, uh, going to this business related event over in West Hollywood.”
“Wow. What kind of event goes on until the early morning.”
Fuck. Now, I have to tell a lie on top of a lie. “It’s a party for a big client. I have to be there. But I’m going to try to get out of there by Midnight.”
I don’t think my roommate is buying my story. Just as she is about to ask another question, the commercial break is over and Deb goes back to watching her tabloid gossip show. I use that as my opportunity to dash into my room and shut the door.
I lie on my bed and wonder what I am going to wear for my rendezvous with the stranger. A little black dress would be nice. I have several little black dresses. Maybe I should wear heels? This is ridiculous. He is not even going to be interested in what I am wearing.
***
11:00 p.m. I get myself dressed and ready for my encounter at the Chateau Marmont. As I open the door, I hear my roommate on the phone while walking around the living room. Great. I thought she would be in her own bedroom. If she sees the way I am dressed, then she will know that I am going to see a guy. This little black dress is a little too revealing for everyday party attire.
I sneak a peek down the hall and notice that Deb has her back turned away from me. I quickly grab my purse and keys and run down the hall. As I turn the knob on the front door, I hear Deb whistle, “Oh, it looks like you’re dressed to kill!”
&nb
sp; I meekly turn around and say, “Yeah.”
“I hope you get lucky!” she says.
“Yeah, fingers crossed,” I tell her. If she only had any idea!
I take the 405 Freeway up to Santa Monica Boulevard and make my way east to Hollywood and the Chateau Marmont. I usually don’t venture over to this part of LA at night. At every red light, I see prostitutes, bums, winos and teen runaways. I’ve already seen two people get arrested. The scenes only serve to remind me that I am headed to a dark and dangerous rendezvous with a sexy guy whom I don’t really even know.
The Chateau Marmont is one of those places that looms large in the lore of Hollywood. This is a place known for more celebrity scandals, parties and intrigue than just about any other place in town. I look up at the large building and know that the stranger is in there, waiting for me. I pull up to the front of the hotel. The valet takes my vehicle. I step out and walk into the hotel lobby. I have never been inside the Chateau Marmont before. Even though it is midnight, the hotel is abuzz with activity. As I walk past a couple, I notice a famous celebrity out of the corner of my eye. Another couple is making out on one of the sofas. This all feels like a surreal fantasy come to life.
