by Sia Wales
“Now, sir, careful, don’t be misled by appearances… people tell me I have a very sharp bite,” she growled amused, letting the hypnotic and sensual essence of his heady perfume wash over her.
“Ah, a lady brimful of surprises. Well, it just so happens that I too have sharp teeth.” He burst out laughing, his eyes twinkling with forbidden thoughts.
“Well, in that case, you must be a businessman,” guessed Stella, embarrassed and at a loss for what else to say.
“And a ruthless one at that… Some, many people, in fact, have even gone so far as to call me a ‘bloodsucker’. Such a loathsome word.” His upper lip curled distastefully, his face turning a shade darker, shadowed by an occult, arcane desire.
“You don’t work for the IRS do you? Or are you one of those unscrupulous speculators?” asked Stella confused, inquisitive.“No, no, nothing like that. I run a company in the finance sector and am a member of the Board of Directors of a holding in the security field.”
“Cool!” Stella was intrigued. She looked at him boldly, trying to mask the dread she felt at the thought of yielding to the unspoken promises she heard in his soft, husky voice. Donn came closer to her, his eyes aglow with a strange light. He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, caressing her ear as he whispered, “I’m honored you think so. You have no idea how much pleasure it gives me to know that you’re not indifferent to what I do, Miss Whitely…”
“And you are Mr…?” asked Stella hesitatingly. He leaned his face toward hers, his eyes still impenetrable, controlled.
“Miss Whitely, please forgive me. Donn, my name is Donn…”
He stretched out his hand, his fingers long and tapered, and Stella shook it, a strange but pleasant charge electrifying her.
Suddenly, Bryan appeared at the door of the backroom to shatter the spell the stranger had cast on her. “Stella, can I come in?”
“Hold on a sec, I’ll be right there, Bryan,” she said, throwing him a funny look.
“Oh, yeah sorry, it’s just that I’m clocking off now. Do you need anything?” he asked warily, peering into the darkness.
“No thanks, go ahead,” she replied distracted by the touch of Donn’s fingers on hers. The man was scrutinizing her face.
“Now I really must start my shift… Like something to drink?”
Donn watched as she moved sinuously along the wall, stroking his chin slowly.
“Of course…” he accepted, smiling sensually.
“Well, follow me,” she said firmly to him and strode purposefully toward the faint light that beckoned from the main room.
Taking her usual place behind the bar, she refused to acknowledge the still-mysterious man as he gracefully slid on to one of the bar stools. His eyes never left her.
“What can I serve you?”
“Double scotch, neat, thanks.”
“Scotch, neat, coming right up.” She slowly poured the whiskey, letting the sound of his deep voice play an erotic dance deep inside her, almost the prelude to an explosion of passion.
“Why do you persist in being so aloof with me, Miss Whitely?” His eyes were dark, his jaws tense.
“Could ask you the same question, Donn,” she replied, but it yielded no answer.
“I don’t know how you do it, Donn,” she said puzzled, but giving in to his charm, bewitched by his eyes.
“Do what?” he asked innocently as he sipped his scotch.
“You know, catch me off-guard like this!” Stella exclaimed. Her eyes were shining, aflame with curiosity.
“I never thought about it like that. It comes naturally,” Donn replied, stretching his lips into a light smile. She tried to stop the words coming out of her mouth. “Is someone waiting for you at home, Donn?”
“What makes you think I have someone waiting for me at home, Stella?”
“Er, Donn, I might have thought it, but I never said it, like, out loud. Are you reading my mind?”
“Yes, I like doing it with you…” he admitted. His smile looked ambiguous.
“So what am I thinking now?” she said lightly, biting her lip.
Donn’s eyes widened slightly and his lips quivered.
“You are thinking about me. Stella, I find you incredibly attractive. But, and you might be surprised to hear this, I’m not the type to make a pass at you merely to get you into bed for a night.” He stared at her with his bold blue eyes. Stella could not stop biting her lip.
“You are biting your lip… on purpose?” He threw her a stern glance, irritated at himself for almost losing control at that gesture of hers.
“No, I always do it…” replied Stella, perturbed. Donn pulled his wallet out of his pocket and gave her the company credit card with no name written on it. Stella zipped it through the machine and returned the card. Suddenly, she heard the melancholy notes of Vuk’s guitar come drifting through the bar. She turned her back on Donn, who furrowed his brow, annoyed. The notes of the guitar ceased.
“Excuse me a second,” she murmured. She went toward Vuk, who had slipped in through the back door. He hugged her tightly, taking her by surprise, but his smile faded into a grimace when he saw Donn, who was observing them through half-closed eyes. Vuk strode over to the man, the anger in his eyes barely contained.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His tone was cold, resolute. The two men eyed each other, weighing each other up. The tension was palpable.
“I merely dropped in to have a scotch” Donn drawled, sounding vaguely irritated.
“D’you two know each other?” Stella asked, now completely mystified.
“Yes, we do!” they chimed in unison.
She could sense the tension between the two. She gave Donn a confused, inquisitive look.
“Well, I must be on my way now, Miss Whitely, but I’m sure we’ll meet again soon. It was truly a pleasure to meet you.” He grazed her fingers smoothly with his cold hands. For some reason deep shivers of pleasure run up and down Stella’s body.
“Likewise, Donn.” He smiled and looked at her, his eyes clouding over.
He eased himself off the stool, then turned around to leave, his movements and gestures never less than elegant.
“Well, you can’t say the guy’s lacking in style,” said Vuk drily.
“How come you know a person like him?” Stella asked, keeping her eyes firmly on Donn as he walked out the door. He shot her an enigmatic look before melting into the haze of the street lights, the door closing behind him gently as he disappeared into the night.
“Stella, there’s something about him… He’s dangerous. Please, you mustn’t see him again,” was all Vuk could manage to whisper.
The rest of the evening sped by, and Vuk returned to the backroom of the bar to practice a few chords. Stella was unable to concentrate on the Jets football game or the friendly banter of the bar’s regulars, practically ignoring the stream of orders from the tables.
Nor did she have much time for Scott when he returned to the bar a little later. Her thoughts and feelings were running wild. All she could think about was Donn and the electrifying pull he exerted on her.
Get a grip, Stella, she said to herself, failing pitifully as she tuned out the bar’s usual noises punctuated by the customers’ cheers as they rooted for their team, conscious only of a white noise in the background and the startling clarity of her thoughts.
Finally, it was time to close up and head home. Half expecting to find Donn waiting for her outside, Stella flinched with disappointment as she looked up and down the deserted street before casting her eyes down.
She did not realize that if she’d only turned them to the horizon she would have seen Jason keeping a solitary vigil, legs splayed across his motorcycle, face brightening tenderly as he saw her come out of the bar. And, despite her electrifying encounter with Donn that night, it was Jason who appeared in her dreams… Like he always did, so real, so corporeal, it was as if he was lying next to her.
Mr. Brooks
Stella woke up the next morn
ing and stretched her whole body luxuriously. Still half asleep, she hugged her pillow then swung her legs over the side of the bed and ran her fingers through her hair, still living in her dreams of Jason, so real and intimate they left her glowing inside.
Then, tugging on the brown dress lying discarded by the bed, and a pair of matching boots, she fixed her make-up, picked up her bag and lecture notes, struggled into her gray coat and hurried out of the house.
She was in good time as she arrived at Commonwealth Avenue, accompanied by the pressing rhythm of the final chorus of Gives You Hell by The All-American Rejects. She maneuvered her car into the parking lot and walked over to the COM, the College of Communications at 640 Comm. Ave, heading straight for the Public Relations room, where she was surprised to see their lecturer, Shirley Owens, practically spellbound as she spoke to a man with his back turned, his face shielded from Stella.
She slipped into the seat next to Jamie Keats, a cute, dark-haired girl she’d met only recently but who she’d clicked with immediately, totally at ease with Jamie’s friendly, outgoing personality.
“Hi, Jamie!” Stella said, dumping her bag on the floor and her notebook on the desk.
“Hey, Stella. So how was it yesterday? Ton of people at the bar?”
“Yeah, and one in particular, but it wasn’t the game he came for,” she said, peering at the man by the lectern, trying to get a better look. Wow, his resemblance to Donn was uncanny! The shoulders, the hair, brown flecked with blond, his stance… She was almost sure it was Donn, but no, she thought, your mind is playing tricks on you…
“No, it can’t be him!” She blushed, staring at him.
“Stella, what are you on about? ‘Him’ who?” Jamie was confused.
“Who is that man with Professor Owens?” He was wearing an elegant blue suit; she caught a glimpse of a white linen shirt peeking out from the collar.
“That’s Dr. Brooks, the charming, handsome, successful entrepreneur… ergo, Mr. Highly Desirable,” she responded, a wicked grin on her face. “The rest of the class just hasn’t shut up about him for a whole ten minutes, ever since he walked in and almost caused a swoon epidemic. All they can do is rack their silly brains to come up with a ploy to attract his attention… And, look, haven’t you noticed how all the cutest girls have deserted the back row to sit at the front. Unheard of!” Jamie commented ironically, a pinch of malice in her tone.
“But what’s he doing here?” Even more puzzled, Stella was going crazy trying to figure out if it really was the man she had met the night before.
“Well, apparently, BU’s spent years practically begging him to give a series of lectures and now he’s finally agreed, saying he wanted to start with our PR class… It certainly does it for me, no problem!” she said excitedly, with a smile.
Stella was wondering if it was indeed Donn standing there, and, more importantly, if he would recognize her… If he did, would he keep his cool, remain detached and formal in keeping with his role of guest BU lecturer, her being a student? And all that… The thought swam round and round her mind like a goldfish.
As Donn and Professor Owens finished talking, he turned around to face the class packed with students, and he slowly, deliberately scanned the room, his eyes finding hers, registering her face near the back of the classroom without missing a beat. Then, as his glance caught her on the way back, he saw her face light up with pleasure and surprise, the smile that softened her mouth as they looked at each other, both reliving the previous night, the soft warm lighting of the bar and the charge that crackled between them.
But then he seemed to wake up, alerted by the coy looks and flattering smiles the girls in the room were giving him, their shameless innuendo droning in the background. Professor Owens cleared her throat and began by introducing the day’s guest: “Ok, students, you’ll be pleased to hear you won’t be receiving a lecture from me today,” she quipped. “Instead you will have our honored guest lecturer, Dr. Donn Brooks. He is head of Brooks Financial Enterprise, one of the leading companies in our country, and CEO of Council Capital Holding, one of America’s most competitive companies in the security sector, and he’ll be giving you his valuable insights. Please give Mr. Brooks a warm welcome everyone, and, er, carry on; just pretend I’m not here.” Professor Owens started to clap enthusiastically, joined by the rest of the class, the applause going on for what seemed an embarrassingly long time.
Meanwhile, despite having everyone’s eyes trained on him, Donn’s were riveted solely on Stella, their bottomless depths sucking her in helplessly, the ardor burning in Donn’s eyes inflaming her body and soul, the teacher’s voice fading to a faint hum in the background.
She tried to avert her gaze but was stopped by a knife-like wrench. Conscious of the icy shivers tingling up and down her spine, the clench in her stomach that left her breathless, she gave in to the soft tremors that uncoiled from deep in her belly, doing nothing to stop them flicker like flames through the rest of her body in a sensation of pure pleasure that made her shudder imperceptibly. Donn smiled mysteriously, his penetrating gaze remaining focused on Stella.
Her classmates, agog at the high-octane looks exchanged between the two of them, were throwing questioning glances at each other, wondering what the hell was going on. Professor Owens was still standing at Donn’s side and couldn’t see what was happening, but now decided a little prompting was in order.
“Dr. Brooks, please go ahead…” said Professor Owens, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the situation, silently urging Donn to stop locking gazes with Stella and start the lesson. She looked at him, embarrassed, then went purposefully to sit down in front, next to a couple of students.
Donn, completely oblivious to all this, saw only Stella, while the pretty girls at the front, who’d lost all shred of decency with their salacious remarks and shameless vying for his attention, didn’t so much as blip on his radar. Unable to resist the carnal desire she aroused in him a second more, Donn nearly lost it completely. Feeling as if he was about to explode in an outburst of passion, his body moved of its own accord toward her but then, seeing her eyes cloud with embarrassment, nervousness and bewilderment, he got a grip on himself, shot her a slight smile and ducked his head. He stood firm at the front of the class.
“Mr. Brooks?” a dumbfounded Professor Owens urged again, finally shattering Stella’s reverie as it suddenly dawned on her how they must’ve looked to the lecturer, not to mention to the rest of the class.
Donn decided to get the lesson over with. Only then did Stella come plummeting back down to the real world. Sensing the awkward silence hanging heavy in the air and the eyes of every student trained on her, she felt good but also uneasy. She didn’t like being in the spotlight like this. But it was a remarkable, unprecedented moment that none of them would ever forget, one that completely changed their perception of her.
Donn tried one last time to catch her eye but saw the deep embarrassment she felt and tried to avoid upsetting her further.
“Stella, Mr. Brooks seems crazy about you. Look, he’s undressing you with his eyes!” Jamie exclaimed.
“Undressing me? Don’t be ridiculous!” Stella raised her eyebrows, never tearing her eyes from the deep blue, penetrating gaze of the man.
“Do you know him?” Jamie asked, bubbling over with curiosity.
“Yeah, I met him last night…” she said, hearing his voice taper off as if he wanted to home in on what she was saying to her friend.
“You kidding me? Looks more like you guys’ve known each forever to me! And up close and personal too!” her friend smiled.
“Jamie, we just chatted! I served him a Scotch, neat, then Vuk arrived. He and Vuk actually knew each other! By the way, where is Vuk?”
“No idea. He should be here by now… Maybe he slept in. Anyway, I don’t even want to know what you and Mr Brooks got up to last night…” she whispered as she saw Donn glance away with a slight smile on his face, like he’d overheard her. She thought, how weird…
“Huh, whatever. That’s what you say, but he’s clearly smitten with you, Stella,” Jamie continued, before she too found herself drowning in his gaze, enveloped by his caressing voice.
Donn felt powerless to stop the carnal intensity showing in his eyes as he looked at Stella, but realizing he was making things even more awkward for her, he finally tore his eyes away, collected himself and brought the lecture to a close. As students and teacher alike burst wildly into applause, the two-hour lecture over, Stella grabbed her things as soon as he stopped speaking. Unable to resist him a minute more, she had to get the hell out of there. Dazed and confused, she jumped from her seat and fled to the door, determined to lose him before he pinned her down again, this time physically.
Donn’s eyes had never once left her though and, seeing her head straight for the door, he hastily thanked Professor Owens and chased after her. Thinking he’d catch her in the hallway, he pushed past the students streaming out of the classroom door, searching for her frantically. Then, as hope deserted him, he finally glimpsed her bewildered figure try to melt into the crowd of anonymous shadows. Impatiently pushing aside the few people that still separated them, he caught up with her, gently clasped the side of her neck and pressed his body tight against hers. Her body trembled, electrified as she recognized his velvety, practiced touch.
“What a pleasure it is to see you again, Miss Whitely?” Donn murmured, trailing his hand down the inside of her bare arm, caressing her fingers, spinning her around passionately toward him.
Stella felt her heart beat furiously to breakpoint.
“Mr. Brooks,” she managed to mumble, gobsmacked, unable to pronounce any other words. The man smiled, seeming to be shrouded even more in mystery.
“So last night I was Donn, now I’m Mr. Brooks? Does this magnificent institution bring out the formal side of you, or are you just trying to create some distance between us?” he asked in a low, hoarse voice, a serious expression emanating from his handsome face. His Blackberry started to vibrate in his jacket pocket and, without even looking to see who it was, he touched a button to silence it.
