by Avery Aster
“Okay? So to where? LA finally?”
“Italy.” My mom nearly bounced in her seat.
“Ah excuse me? You’re moving to Italy?”
“We found this cute villa in Tuscany. It’s a bit of a fixer upper but it’s perfect.”
“What are you going to do there? What about Dad’s job?”
“I’m finally going to do what I’ve always wanted to,” my dad said, “Write a novel.”
I gaped at him. “You’re going to write a book? Seriously? C’mon you haven’t even managed to write all those screenplays you had brilliant ideas for.”
“Ivy, don’t be mean.”
“What about the house?”
“Well, we’re going to sell it of course and all our cars and furniture and everything.” My mom grinned like a hyena. “We’re going to go over there with just a few suitcases and nothing else. Start from scratch.”
“I can’t believe this.” I tossed my napkin onto my plate.
“Aren’t you excited for us? We’ve always talked about living in Europe. We went to Italy on our honeymoon.”
“You never told me you wanted to live in Europe. Never. Not once.” I was aware that my voice was rising, but I couldn’t stop it. Panic was clearly settling in.
“Ivy, you’re behaving like we’ve completely ruined your life. This is about us, not you.”
“If you sell the house where am I going to live?”
“We paid for that apartment in Glendale,” my dad said.
“I’m not going to college anymore Dad, I told you that.”
He leaned back in his chair, and the glow faded instantly. “Well, then you will have to find a job and pay for your own place.”
“You’re just going to throw me out. Sink or swim, is that it?”
“Ivy,” my mom tried to grab my hand, but I pulled it away. “We’re not throwing you out. It’s not like we’re moving next week. It will take a few months for us to plan everything. You’ll have time to figure out what you’re going to do.”
I stood. I could feel tears welling in my eyes. I didn’t want to let them fall in public. “I have no idea what I want to do with my life. None. And I wish you would help me instead of pushing me off the edge.”
My mom went to reach for me, but my dad held her back.
I left the terrace before I made even more of a scene. Not too many people’s gazes followed me out. I stormed across the resort lobby and went into the elevator. I pushed the button and waited.
I was angry that my parents had sprung that on me, especially here of all places. I was supposed to be relaxing. Now how could I possibly do that, knowing that when I returned to San Diego I was going to be chin deep in stress trying to figure out what in hell I was going to do? I would have to find a job and there really wasn’t too many possibilities for a twenty year old girl without a degree and no work experience, except for that one summer six years ago when I helped teach dance to little kids at my old dance studio. I didn’t think that would really add anything to my resume.
I was also going to have to find a place to live. There was no way I could afford the kind of apartment I wanted in a good neighborhood, especially since I didn’t have a job. I thought briefly that maybe Violet would let me crash at her family’s place for a while, until I figured stuff out. But the fact was I couldn’t mooch off my friends forever.
When the elevator stopped and the door opened, I walked out without thinking. It wasn’t until I was staring at a Van Gogh painting on the wall, that I realized I’d pushed the button for the penthouse suites.
I should’ve turned around and went back into the elevator and gone down to my room to sulk, but I didn’t. I walked the short distance across the lobby floor to stand in front of suite two. I didn’t know what time it was, although I knew it wasn’t ten o’clock. It might’ve been seven or eight at the latest. But at this point I just didn’t care.
I knocked on the door and waited.
I was just about to turn around when the door opened.
“I know I’m early, but deal with it.” I walked into his suite, brushing past him as I did.
The scent of his cologne touched my nose and my gut clenched. I adored a man that smelled good. I hated that so many guys of my generation just went au natural. I mean, most of them probably had no idea what that odor was really like. It was not a good smell.
I’d expected a luxury suite, but the reality of it was quite breathtaking. I immediately walked to the 180 degree bank of floor to ceiling windows and looked out across the island. It was spectacular.
“Holy shit,” I mumbled.
When I turned back around, he was standing near the bar with a bottle of something uncorked. “Would you like a glass of Riesling?” he poured the white wine into two crystal wine glasses. “It is a 1998.” He picked up one of the glasses and took a deep sniff. “Two thousand American dollars a bottle.”
I crossed the room to where he stood and took the offered glass. I took a tentative sip. I wasn’t much of a wine drinker. I didn’t really acquire a taste for it. It was usually too bitter. But this was quite sweet and refreshing.
“It’s good.” I took another sip, then turned to survey his room.
The furniture was all light colored, beige mostly, with a lot of bright colored throw pillows and cushions. There were vases of flowers on every table. I looked over my shoulder at him. For some reason, it just didn’t suit him. I wondered not for the first time, whether he had a travelling companion. A female one.
“I’m not a prostitute, you know?” I said as I roamed the room taking small sips of the wine.
I think I may have taken him a bit by surprise because he coughed slightly into his fist, then seemed to have gained control again. “I didn’t think you were.”
“Then why did you invite me to your room?”
“Why not? I like to take risks. I like adventures. Don’t you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, I guess maybe, since I’m here.”
“Yes, you are.” He gestured to one of the sofas for me to sit.
I did. He sat on the one opposite me, and crossed his legs.
He watched me over the rim of his glass. Nerves zipped through me, and I found it hard to sit still.
“What’s your name?” I asked. “I feel weird sitting here without even knowing who you are.”
“Jakob Werner.”
“Where are you from?”
“I was born and raised in Germany.”
“Do you still live there?”
“No.”
“How old are you? Like thirty something?”
His eyebrow lifted a little. “Yes around there.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re not some weird creepy pervert are you?”
“I assure you I’m not.”
I eyed him some more. He of course could just be saying that. I had no way of knowing if it was true or not. Except with the way the island brought guests in, I suspected the powers that be wouldn’t invite some sicko criminal to stay.
“Great. Nice to meet you Jakob. I’m Ivy.”
He didn’t say anything just set his glass down on the side table. “And now that we know each other, why are you here?”
“Ah, you invited me remember?”
“Yes, I know, but why are you here?”
I sighed. “Because I’m having a shit day, well a shit week to be honest, and I don’t want to think about it anymore. I just want to escape, even if it’s for a few hours.”
“I understand this. To want to escape.”
“Good, then I came to the right hotel room.” I laughed, and finished off the wine. I set the glass down on the table, then looked around nervously at my opulent surroundings. “So, what do you do? I imagine it’s major considering this room probably costs like five thousand a night.”
“You wish to waste this night to small talk?”
“Um, no, I suppose not. Just trying to get a handle on you, that’s all.”
“Wh
at does it matter what I do for a living?”
“I guess it doesn’t.”
“We both know what this night is about, don’t we Ivy?”
“Yes.” My heart started to hammer in my chest. He was looking at me so hard.
“Stand up and take off your dress.”
“Excuse me?” I gaped at him.
“I said stand up and take off your dress.”
“And what if I say no?”
He gestured toward the door. “Then you may leave. I’m not going to keep you here against your will.”
I looked at the door, and worried my bottom lip with my teeth. My whole body thrummed with desire, but also fear. I wasn’t afraid of him hurting me, but of releasing something inside me that I’d been denying myself for a long time. Unbridled passion and surrender.
In the past, all my sexual encounters had been in my control. I’d even decided when I was going to lose my virginity, by whom and where. I’d booked the hotel room, picked up my then boyfriend, Parker, and took him there. I’d initiated it and told him exactly what to do and how. Every encounter since then, I’d called the shots. On one occasion I’d even tied my partner up and spanked him. He’d loved it, and so had I.
But I didn’t think this man would ever allow me to do that to him.
I got to my feet, and looked at the door again.
Jakob’s expression hadn’t changed. He just sat there, his arm draped on the back of the sofa and his legs crossed. He looked like a man in complete control.
I looked at him. Then I slowly slipped one strap off my shoulder, then the other. I let the dress slide down my body to drop to the floor at my feet. I stepped out of it, and kicked it to the side. I stood there, in my simple white cotton strapless bra and bikini panties trying hard not to cover myself.
He slowly studied me from painted toes to head. “You are beautiful, Ivy.”
“Thank you.” My cheeks blushed. I’d been complimented before, but this was something else. It was appraisal, it was being measured. As if he’d sampled all the women in the world and decided that I was the most desirable.
“You have a gorgeous body. Very fit, athletic. Like a dancer.”
“I used to be a dancer.” My voice was a bit shaky.
“I would like for you to dance for me.”
“Now? Here?”
He picked up a remote control from the side table and pressed a button. Beyoncé’s soul laced voice filled the room.
I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. “You like Beyoncé?”
“Yes.” His lips lifted a little, which made his eyes crinkle. That was when I saw the absolute beauty of him. He was a handsome man for sure. His hard chiseled features begged to be photographed, but that almost smile transformed him a little. And I could see the humor and light-heartedness in his eyes.
The music surrounded me. It was one of her more classic R&B tunes and my body responded to the slow sexy grooves. My hips swayed and my arms and shoulders shimmied until I was moving fluidly to the rhythm. I’d always loved to dance. Ever since I was six years old. As I danced now I’d wish I hadn’t quit. Of course I wasn’t doing this kind of dancing at my studio.
I was into it now. Feeling confident about my moves. I met Jakob’s gaze as I stepped up onto the table in front of him to give him a real personal type of show. Maybe I could get a job as an exotic dancer. I didn’t think my parents would be thrilled about it, but at least I’d be making good money and could afford my own place. Then they wouldn’t have to worry about me.
I watched him watch me as I dropped it low. His gaze never left me. His jaw was tight, but then his mouth opened and he licked his lips. The slam of desire was instant. It hit me right in the gut and I nearly groaned. It was empowering to know that I had him enthralled with my movements. I had no idea that dancing for someone could be such a huge turn on for me.
For my finale, I turned bent over and twerked my ass like I was in a Miley Cyrus stage show. When I was done, I was breathing hard. Sweat dotted my forehead and lined my sternum down to my navel. I was hot and sweaty and thrumming with desire. I wanted to have this man right there and then. I wondered what he would do if I knelt down and unzipped his pants and took him into my mouth.
I stepped down from the table to stand right in front of him. He didn’t say anything but just eyed me hungrily. It was killing me that he hadn’t said anything or done anything. Why hadn’t he touched me yet? God, I really wanted him to.
“Now what?” I asked.
“Take off your bra and panties.”
“You do it.”
I think I surprised him, because his eyebrows went up again.
“Turn around.”
I did. My body vibrated as he reached up and unhooked my bra. I let it fall to the floor. When he hooked his fingers into the band of my panties and slowly pulled them down, over my hips and down my legs, I couldn’t stop the moan of pleasure. I could feel his hot breath on my ass cheeks. I was very close to orgasming and we hadn’t even had sex yet.
Guys my age were always in a hurry to get to it. Foreplay consisted of a few kisses and suckles to my breasts, a finger or two to test the waters, then it was a slip and slide all the way in for the main event. Most times the whole experience was forty minutes tops. And that was being generous.
I stood there fully naked unsure and nervous. I wanted to look over my shoulder to see what Jakob was doing, but as soon as I thought about it, I could feel him behind me. He’d stood and was just inches away from me. I bit down on my lip and closed my eyes. It took everything inside me not to turn around and kiss him. But I sensed that he wouldn’t like that. He wanted to be in control, so I let him.
His breath caressed the back of my shoulder, and then my neck. I imagined him studying me, trying to find the perfect spot to place his lips and start his exploration of my body with his mouth. At least, that’s what I hoped was going to happen. I couldn’t stand it, waiting for his touch. It was agony.
I was about to lean back into him, when the shrill sound of a cell phone broke the magic in the air.
He sighed. “Fuck.”
It was the first sign of real strong emotion I’d seen from him since arriving to his room.
“Can’t you ignore it?”
“No.”
He stepped away from me, and I felt the loss of his body heat instantly.
I turned to see him snatch his cell phone from the small table beside the sofa and walk into the other room with it to his ear. He was speaking German and he didn’t sound pleased. I wasn’t pleased either. We’d both been cock blocked.
I had no idea what I should do now. Do I sit on the sofa and wait for him? Should I put my panties back on first? I mean, did he really want my bare vag on his expensive furniture? I decided that sitting on the table might be a better move. I sat, crossed my legs and waited.
Five minutes passed and he was still on the phone. I was getting quite uncomfortable, both physically and mentally. Shame started to settle in. In the heat of the moment, I was up for pretty much anything, but in the cold spotlight of reality, it didn’t look all that appealing. It looked dirty.
I gathered my bra and panties and put them back on. I didn’t want to be here anymore. The alcohol of the day had very quickly evaporated from my system. I was stone cold sober and what I was doing didn’t look all that appealing anymore.
I put on my dress, picked up my purse and headed for the door.
Jakob wandered out of the other room, still on the phone, and looked at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I can’t do this.”
“Warten Sie einen Moment,” he said into the phone, then held it against his chest. “This call is very important. Sit and wait for me.”
I shook my head. “I’m not your girl. Find someone else to be your Barbie doll.” I opened the door and walked through it. I shut it behind me, and leaned against it for a moment to catch my breath.
I was still shaky. My body was still pulsing with
desire. This time it wasn’t so easy to go from horny as hell to cold as ice. I still felt horny. I still wanted Jakob to touch me. What I needed was a cold shower, or another drink and a well-placed shower head.
I pushed away from the door and went back to my room to get some much needed release.
Chapter Six
The next morning I was feeling rough. When I’d gotten back to my room, I’d raided the mini bar. I’d blasted music from my iPod and danced around the room drinking from little bottles of vodka. I’d ordered up some pineapple juice to chase it and some chocolate covered strawberries. I’d had a little slumber party all on my own. And now I was paying for it.
My head pounded, and I had the most horrid taste in my mouth. The room was way too bright, so I got up and pulled the shades down. I stumble-shuffled to the bathroom and put my head under the sink. I turned on the cold water and opened my mouth. It soothed me a little. Mostly because I got water all over my face and hair. But it helped a little to wake me up.
I shuffled back toward the bed. My phone made a noise. I got a text. I picked it up to see who from.
Dahlia: WTF? How drunk were you last night?
Me: What do you mean?
Dahlia: You texted me some crazy shit
Me: I did?
Now paranoid, I scrolled up on my iPhone screen to see my conversation with Dahlia last night.
Me: I’m a hooker
Me: Some dude thinks I’m a hooker
Me: Am I a hooker D?
Dahlia: WTF are you talking about?
Me: Went to some old dude hotel room 4 sex
Dahlia: Are you wasted?
Me: NO
Me: Well maybe
Dahlia: how old?
Me: idk 40 I think
Dahlia: Ivy! WTF?
Me: didn’t fuck him. Just danced 4 him
Dahlia: like a striptease?
Me: no I table danced
Dahlia: LOL
Me: brb need to throw up
Dahlia: ok
A few minutes later.
Dahlia: you there?
A few more minutes later.
Dahlia: did you fall in or something?
Even more minutes later.
Dahlia: text me in the am
I scrolled back down to my current conversation with Dahlia.
