by Sunniva Dee
Jason’s polite, but his mind races for the gutter at my words. His eyes flash over Pandora’s breasts before they reach my face. “Yes, Boss.”
Upstairs, I instantly focus on the task at hand: undressing this beautiful girl. Pandora lets me kiss her, but when I start undoing shirt buttons, her hands go up to stop mine.
Goddammit.
“What, Pandora?”
“Leon, I really only wanted to sleep here, and I…”
Standing on the floor, I grab her ass and jerk her against my cock. “Does this feel like I’m about to give you a free pass to the monastery?”
Thankfully, Pandora is a passionate girl. She shudders at the contact, and my spark of impatience recedes at her reaction. I still her chin with my palm and squeeze so she has to look up at me.
“You’re here with me, Pandora. Not some little college boy. It’s all or nothing. No games—except the ones I invent,” I add.
“But I have no other option. I don’t have my apartment key and—” Pandora is mixed messages in one sweet package; she hates to lose control, but her best orgasms are when she submits to my most unpredictable decisions. Tonight, I’m going to mark her as mine and make her scream my name. Her boobs heave beneath the fabric, so I pry her shirt open, freeing them.
“Please, listen to me, Leon,” she moans, already hot for me.
“Sure, speak up.” I make quick work of her bra, and roll her pants down her legs until they’re bunched around her ankles—like shackles. Hmm.
“I…”
I steady her head so I can open her mouth with my teeth. She’s stuck here now, in the middle of the floor, unable to move. “Fuck, you are so sexy.”
The smack of my hand hitting the target on the smooth flesh of her ass causes my dick to strain against my zipper.
“Leon, please.”
“Please what?” I caress her core, but despite her obvious arousal, she wiggles to get away. I rear back, staring at her. “What’s going on, Pandora?”
“I have to tell you something.”
“Fucking talk before my balls go blue,” I growl and dig my fingers into her butt hard enough for a sweet, little squeak to escape her.
“It’s complicated…”
“Like you, yes.” I nod, eyes wide with fake understanding.
“I think I’m sort of… in love with Dominic.”
Fuck.
My hands pause on her skin for a second before they continue exploring. “In that case, how come he’s not here with you?”
She’s quiet while I ease her down on my bed. I lift one leg at a time to free her from her clothes.
“Because he’s at home, and I’m in Deepsilver, and we’re not dating, and he might never come back here and he probably just worries about me like I’m a stupid little sister anyway.”
Ah, well. Seems simple to me.
“So we’re good, then?” I ask as I run two fingers through her cleft. Oh, damn me—we better be good or I’ll be taking a long shower with my hand before I go back to work.
She stills under me as if she’s putting two and two together as well. Women. Why are the easiest things complicated to them?
“Or are you going to pine for Dominic or something?”
“‘Pine for,’” she repeats, giggling. “You’re an idiot.” Then, her arms fling around my neck and pull me down, and I groan with relief.
“You can pine for me,” I suggest. “Hey, better yet—be in pain for me.” I pinch her nipple and don’t let go until she arches into my hand.
“Ouch, asshole,” she yelps, and I’m so hard I can’t take another second.
“I’ve got an idea,” I whisper as I roll on a condom and plunge into her. “How about you stay like this on my bed always? Just nice and naked and ready?”
“Yeah, not gonna happen,” she moans between my thrusts.
Her fucking phone starts ringing. The damn thing won’t shut up, so I speed up until we both come much faster than planned. What the hell?
“Pandora, I’m going to smash your cell to pieces.”
Her cheeks are flushed when she gets off the bed, stumbling toward her purse. She reads who’s calling, drops the phone on the floor, and collapses on top of the sheets, an arm draped over her face. “My dad,” she muffles into the crook of her elbow.
“So? Answer.”
“Nuh-huh. He’s pissed, so pissed, Leon.”
“He’s on the opposite side of the continent, right?”
She peers at me over her arm, eyes widening with dread. “Shit, unless he’s here already. What if he’s on a plane here, Leon?”
The damn phone keeps ringing. This man does not take no for an answer. I sort of respect that.
“So—why did you ditch your dad?” I sneak a hand under her spine to make her arch toward me. With the other, I stroke her taut belly and down to the fine hairs over her pelvic bone.
“Because he locks me into a dark closet when I don’t listen to him.” She studies my reaction.
“Oh, uh-huh, one of those.” I nod. “That’s always fun. Mine was of the school of hard knocks.”
“What? Your dad?”
“Usually I’d do whatever I wanted, but once in a while he’d notice and knock the wind out of me. Hmm… twice a week, I’d say?”
“No—he hit you?”
“Well—” I drag out the suspense, enjoying her reaction because my childhood doesn’t affect me anymore. “More like kicked me in the stomach with his work boots.” I shrug. “He’d vary it, though. Anyways, you were saying?”
She’s in absolute shock. “Poor you!”
“Yep, poor me, etcetera, etcetera, so… did you leave before he could lock you up again? What did you do?”
“Got drunk on the beach with my friends, and my father was waiting for me when I came home. Shannon and I had an agreement that she’d bail me out if I didn’t answer her call. She got me out.” Pandora’s lip trembles.
“Nice,” I say, stilling her lip with my finger. The phone is finally silent. “You should give him a really quiet ringtone.”
That makes her laugh, and I grin.
“I left him a note too,” she says.
I raise my brows in question.
“Yeah. I wrote a lot of stuff, but I told him I’d cut him off as my father if he came after me.” Pandora chuckles, seemingly surprised herself. She rocks to her side and props up on an elbow, facing me. “Honestly, if he showed up in Deepsilver, I’d hide out until he left.”
The phone shrieks again, and Pandora jumps. “Gah, I should have kept it in off-mode.”
I shake my head. “So… you’re not picking up today, I’m guessing? I’ll talk to him.”
Her eyes widen with even more surprise than when we talked about my ass-kicking younger years. “You will?”
I hit “reply” and press the cell to my ear. “Hello?”
Stunned silence meets me on the other end. Then, her father gathers himself. “Who’s this?”
“Sir, you called, I believe. Whom am I speaking with?” I ask politely.
Both Pandora and her dad gasp. She covers her mouth with a hand to strangle the sound.
“This is my daughter’s phone! Who am I talking to!”
“Ah, you must be Mr. Cancemi. I’m Leon Stonewell, Pandora’s boyfriend.”
Pandora’s eyes are so big, it’s like we’re watching the scariest horror flick ever made. I cover the microphone with my thumb while I let out the laugh I can’t suppress anymore. She’s priceless right now.
“Excuse me? I didn’t catch that,” I reply to his string of not-so-carefully chosen expletives.
“My daughter does NOT have a boyfriend, and I don’t care who the hell you are. Put Pandora on the phone immediately!”
“Mr. Cancemi, I simply responded to your question. Please calm down—”
“Oh. My. God,” Pandora chokes out.
“—this can’t be good for your heart,” I finish.
“I have never… in my life…” Pandora’s
father must have run out of profanities and commands in general. He breathes heavily into the phone, creeper-style. I lean back on the bed, eyeing the beauty next to me.
“Take your time, sir. Let me know if I can help you with anything. Other than connecting you with your daughter.”
“No, you listen to me, young man. Pandora needs to get on the phone right now! My daughter ran away from home, and—”
“With all due respect, sir, I believe Pandora is… hmm, college-aged.”
“Twenty!” she mouths.
“Which means she left home. She didn’t run away. Your daughter is an adult, who doesn’t want to talk with her abusive father—”
“What in the world? How dare you speak to me like that!”
I’m getting tired of this conversation. Her dad is starting to sound like an old lady.
“Sir, I’ll check if she’s changed her mind,” I tell him. “Pandora, do you want to talk with your abusive father?”
Her face is bright red with all sorts of emotions flickering over it. Incredulity, humor, fear. I wiggle the phone at her and shrug. “No pressure, sugar.”
Her father is yelling through the speaker. “Pandora, get on the damn phone right this second!”
I grimace. “Not the best time for a chat, maybe?”
She shakes her head vehemently. Then, she changes her mind and calls out, “Hi, Dad—don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
Man, she’s really fucking cute.
“You want to tell him when you’ll be ready to talk with him?” I suggest, and she bobs out a “yes.”
“I’ll call you after New Year’s, and we’ll catch up—if you’re done yelling,” she adds.
The phone is quiet for exactly two seconds before he starts ranting again. Really, I can’t listen to this anymore. I take over and tell him, “Sir, it’s been a pleasure, but I better go take care of your daughter now. She’s not too happy with your attitude. Have a wonderful day.”
Then, I hang up. Before I return Pandora’s phone, I get a glimpse of the screen filled with voicemails and text messages, many of them from Dominic. “You want me to switch it all the way off so he can’t call back?”
“Please,” she breathes, grateful.
I do and immerse myself in her one more time before we start the night downstairs.
The locale is packed, unfamiliar guests shoving into each other. I lean against the rack of glasses by the back mirror while I enjoy the view of Pandora going absolutely insane on top of my bar counter. She’s in stilettos, wiggling and doing silly little tap-dance moves that make people scream out in a mixture of catcalls and laughter.
I shout to Christian, who narrowly saves his tray of highball glasses when she side-sweeps to the music. Chuckling, I fold my arms, enjoying her show.
The broken spirit and the pain Pandora works so hard to hide has disappeared in her crème-de-menthe-induced euphoria, and she rocks her body, wavy tangles of hair swinging down to her hips. Her beauty radiates from her now that a blissful smile stretches across her features.
Not once has she turned to seek my approval. What she does up there is for her own enjoyment, and as always, it makes me think of the perfect match we are. I’ve got Pandora now, and I have six days and six nights to make sure she’s hooked and doesn’t want to leave.
“Three Buds—longnecks, please,” some guy yells over the music. Christian pumps his chin up for him to repeat himself, which he does, louder this time. His eyes stray up my girl’s legs. “Damn, she hot or what?” he continues. “I’d tap that!”
Sure, I’m possessive. Once I’m in charge of a woman, I take care of her. That includes kicking the ass of any loser salivating over her.
Christian sends me a concerned side-glance, aware of my state of mind. “She’s spoken for. I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he replies, placing one of the bottles in the guy’s hand before he can reach up Pandora’s leg.
The idiot isn’t taking the hint. He starts dancing below her and devouring her like she’s a stripper doing a table dance. Eyes glassy, he slurs out, “Yeah? Well, I don’t see a boyfriend around here!” His shoulders hike up in an exaggerated shrug.
Christian tries to block my exit, but I stalk past him and around the counter toward Pandora. I’ll be calling the bouncers in a minute. Just as I’m about to give the guy a last warning, Pandora wobbles and falls forward. One long leg kicks up in the air, while the knee of the other buckles. I shove past the patrons in time to catch her in the air.
She’s giggling, completely unaware that if she landed on the ground—it’s a silver-painted, concrete floor from the fifties—she’d at best end up with a concussion.
“Okay, sugar. Time for a break?” I suggest and stack her up on a barstool that became available during her fall.
“Sure! Whatcha got for me, sailor?” She grins and slams her hand on the wooden top as hard as any grown man. I snort and shake my head. “At this point? VOSS.”
“Yeah! Wait, what? That’s water, right?” Her frown is drunkenly overdone.
“Whatever she wants on me!” her former admirer yells to Christian, who nods in my direction.
“I don’t think so—that’s the owner, and she’s with him. I suggest you back off unless you want to be tossed out.”
“Oh, is he touchy?” the idiot screams as if I’m not four inches from his ugly face.
“Yes, he is,” I say.
“Sorry man—I had no idea,” he lies and shows his palms as he retreats into another partier who curses loudly.
Pandora has caught on to the little exchange, and now she snorts out a laugh. “That was funny,” she says.
“Well, I’m glad we could entertain you.”
“Where’s my purse?” She’s got it crisscrossed over her shoulder even though I told her to leave it behind the bar. I point, and she pulls the phone out and turns it on.
I don’t like this. Before I switched it off, the thing had been overflowing with messages. I need these days to secure her for myself, and it’d be a whole lot easier without the outside world interfering.
She squints, trying to read, and I snatch it from her.
“Let me, Pandora. Small screens and a butt load of drinks don’t combine.” My suggestion coincides with Christian placing a big bottle of VOSS in front of her and a cocktail glass complete with ice, lemon, and an umbrella straw. He’s going fancy on her. Judging by how she claps and giggles, she’s all for special treatments, and it’s the distraction I need. The first message I see is from Dominic.
Pandora. Huge news—I’ll be in Deepsilver this semester. Pls pick up. Got a solution for Grandma.
Then, he’s called her ten times and left another handful of messages up the alley of Are you there? and another Please, pick up. Pitiful.
“Anything from Shannon?” Pandora takes a long drag of her water through the straw, wiggling the umbrella away from her nose.
I scroll down. “Tons from your mother, a gazillion missed calls from Dear Father—and yeah, here’s Shannon. She wonders if you’ve arrived safely.”
Pandora steadies her head in both hands as she drinks. It’s her first sign of slowing down all night. “Can you text her back?” she asks.
“Sure, I’ll run the club and do your texting too. Just let me break up that fight on the dance floor first, all right?” I joke.
I do message her friend, though. There’s no way I’ll let Pandora read the barrage of texts from Dominic. What would the consequences be if I deleted them? Tempting. I smile inwardly; guess I haven’t sunk that low yet.
Either way, all I need is to delay their delivery and they won’t matter anymore. I can make her unequivocally mine before College Boy arrives.
I shoot off a three-word reply—Yes all’s good—to Shannon and turn the phone off again. “I’m leaving your purse behind the counter so you don’t lose it. Oh, and I’m bringing you too.” I’m only half kidding. I’d rather have her safely on the inside instead of in the midst of the wolves out here.<
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I flick a glance at my watch. We close in thirty minutes. Good, because Pandora and I need to get to know each other better. One on one.
The last few days have been strange. I have the oddest sensation of being, what… wooed? Does that even happen nowadays?
I had no idea how much time Leon spends indoors. I guess when your club is connected to your apartment, all you need is supplies of the solid kind—food—but even so, unless this week is different, Leon must be quite the homebody.
In the morning, he’s all tousled when he gets up to make us coffee. I’m always hung over and my limbs stiff from dancing and Leon’s after-hours “workout” regime. Every day we get up past noon, and now I’m at his breakfast table. Bleary-eyed, I study him with my head heavy in my hands.
Predictably, he’s beautiful today too. Those wintery blue eyes and the pale tan beneath his raven-colored bangs seem to be eternally accentuated by an almost indistinguishable smirk. I know nothing about this man; the mystery he surrounds himself with hasn’t decreased even though we spend twenty-four hours a day together.
At the club, Leon doesn’t usually raise his voice to make people obey. His presence fills the room at his will, and his staff follows his instructions to a T. Me, I’m just glad for the way he occupies my days. If only he could saturate my thoughts too.
Out of habit, I scour the kitchen with my eyes in search of my phone. It disappeared already on my first day here, so it’s not that I expect to find it. I must have removed it from my purse at some point that night, because nothing else is missing.
I’m having withdrawals. Not from my friends or my parents. After all, Shannon and the rest of the girls will be here soon, and I’m relieved as hell to be away from Mom and Dad.
No, it’s from Dominic; I miss him. His texts. Our phone conversation on my last night at home left my heart in shambles. When I heard his voice again, everything we shared while he was in Deepsilver, everything he did for me—all of our chats before I stopped accepting his calls—flooded in. Dominic has taken over every brain cell I own.
Yes, they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but for me it’s not just fonder. I’m in love. I really, truly am in love with this guy, and I don’t know how to fix it.
