by Linnea May
My phone pings for attention, causing me to jerk in surprise. I struggle to produce it from my jeans' pocket, fearing it might be another message from my sister. I congratulated her, but in a reserved way that must have been a telltale sign of what I really think about her news. I wasn't ecstatic or exhilarated, but polite and brief. She knows me well enough to read the meaning behind that message.
But the text that just arrived is not from her. It's from Sandi. I grimace, wondering what she could want from me right now. She's at work, at the club. And that means she should be too busy to be messaging me. Whatever it is must be important.
But it doesn't read that way at first.
"Can I come by for brunch tomorrow? Got something to talk about."
I'm bewildered and curious. Why is she being so vague?
"Sure, come by whenever. Everything okay?" I text back.
I keep staring at the screen for a few more moments, but it doesn't seem that she has even read my response. She must be busy and planning to check for my reply later.
I finish my glass of wine in one big swig, my face still masked by confusion from my best friend’s text. I’m really curious about what she may have to tell me. What could she consider so urgent to make it necessary to tell me in person, but not urgent enough to spell it out in the text?
I'm puzzled, to say the least.
Chapter 41
Damon
"I can't promise you anything."
The words have been resounding in my head all day. Elene's friend, the dark-haired devil who greeted me at the club one night, was rushing toward the entrance while I was waiting outside The Velvet Rooms.
She was better than nothing, I thought. She was a link to Elene, something, a way to connect with her. So I jumped out of my car, approaching the girl just before she could disappear inside the club.
When she told me that Elene was no longer working there, I didn't know whether to be worried or relieved. Knowing that she wasn't willing to give herself to other men for money anymore fueled me with comfort. It meant that those images I had burning inside my head were just that, images, and not true.
However, it doesn't mean that she hasn't been with anyone else since our last night. It also doesn't mean that she wants to see me. It could just mean that she was waiting for me to leave, so she could get out of our agreement and finally quit a job she wanted to quit a long time ago. Maybe she only stayed there because those were the terms of our contract.
This fucking uncertainty is driving me insane. I want it to be over. I want her to finally be here and tell me what’s what, even if the truth will hurt me.
I asked her friend to let her know that I will be waiting at this restaurant tonight at eight. I told her to let Elene know I want to talk to her, over dinner. It's an Italian place, neither too high-scale to intimidate her, nor cheap enough to make her feel like I don't care. I don't want her to feel the need to doll up for me or the location I asked her to come to. I just want her, alone, for an opportunity to resolve whatever this is between us.
Or whatever this was.
Her friend regarded me with a skeptical frown when I gave her my card, telling her that Elene should call or text me if anything keeps her from showing up. There was reluctance in her nod when I asked if I could trust her to deliver this information to Elene, but she promised she'd do it. All my hopes now lie in this friend's hands, and I fucking hate that. I hate relying on other people, especially strangers.
My eyes have been glued to my phone all day long, but I haven't heard from Elene. She didn’t text or call me, which could mean one of two things. Either she really is done with me and threw the card away as soon as her friend gave it to her, or she plans to show up here and didn't think it necessary to confirm.
Her friend didn't give me anything that would sway my speculations one way or the other. She said she'd give Elene the card and let her know when and where I would be waiting for her, but she concluded her words with a disheartening phrase.
"I can't promise you anything."
Of course she can't. But damn, how much easier would all of this be if I knew at least something? Anything, other than the fact that Elene stopped working at The Velvet Rooms right after I was banned.
She waited for me every single night. Tonight, I'm the one waiting for her. My heart skips a beat every time the door to the restaurant opens. I'm sitting at a small table for two at the far end of the main room, in a semi-private alcove that still allows for a good view of the entrance. The waiter has come to my table twice to ask if I really didn't want anything besides water, and both times I sent him away. My stomach is churning with nervousness. Water is all I can handle at the moment, and even a good scotch would only heighten the painful anticipation. I thought coming here early would be a good idea and the best way to keep my nerves in check.
Boy, was I wrong.
The longer I've been sitting here, the more I'm beginning to doubt. With every minute that passes, a negative outcome seems more and more likely, even though there's no concrete reason to believe that.
All my contemplating, my dwelling, my doubts, my fear of a negative outcome — all of that disappears when the door opens again and her beautiful face appears, scanning the room in search of me.
She's wearing tight-fitting jeans, white sneakers, and a lightweight navy blue coat with a white scarf. I've never seen her in a casual everyday outfit, only all dressed up or completely naked.
This look is new — and it's fucking delicious.
I jump up from my seat, watching from afar as a waiter takes her coat and scarf, but her beautiful blue eyes are glued on me the entire time. Her platinum hair is straightened today, and it’s streaming down her slim shoulders in stark contrast to her dark top. The bright strands bounce as she rapidly approaches my table. She wears minimal make-up, a hint of powder, a sweep of black mascara on her lashes, and her bright pink lips are kissed with a touch of gloss.
I freeze in place as she comes closer, incapable of knowing what to do, what to say, how to greet the girl whose absence has been tormenting me every waking minute.
She shows no such inhibitions. As soon as she closes in on me, she wraps her arms around my neck, rising up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips full-on to mine.
My entire body melts into instant relief as I scoop her into my arms, taking her with such force that she's lifted from the floor, pressing her delicate body against mine. I breathe her in, all of her. Our kiss is clumsy and eager, speaking of our impatient need. She's the one to start it, and the one to break it, her blue eyes moving up to meet mine.
"Please tell me I'm not misunderstanding this invitation," she whispers, her lower lip shaking. "Please tell me that you didn't ask me here to buy me, to sign another contract."
Sadness and fear consume her expression, and it pierces my heart like a hot dagger.
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, lightening the shadow on her face for a split second.
"All I'm buying tonight is dinner for us," I tell her, slowly letting her go. "If you can spare the time."
A shy smile, still riddled with uncertainty, appears on her pretty face when she nods.
Chapter 42
Elene
He hasn't said a word of substance ever since we sat down and ordered drinks and appetizers. He was the one who asked me to come here, so it seemed only natural for me to wait for him to start the conversation. Especially after I was the one who went in for a kiss he didn't dare initiate.
We clink our Manhattan glasses, and I watch him over the brim of my glass as I take my first sip.
It's the first time that I see him in something other than a suit. He's wearing a light blue shirt and dark dress pants. The shirt stretches over his buff arms, emphasizing his broad shoulders. The sleeves are rolled up, revealing his strong, tanned forearms. The watch around his wrist probably cost more than my monthly rent, and its light blue details match the color of his shirt. The s
tubble on his strong jaw is lighter than it was the last time I saw him, suggesting a fresh shave just before he came to see me.
He's distinctive from head to toe, suit or no suit.
"So, tell me," I finally request. "Tell me what happened."
My question makes him visibly uncomfortable, even though he must have seen it coming. He puts his drink down, and the glass meets the table with such force that I fear it might break.
"Do you want to hear the short version or the long version?" he asks.
I smile at him. "You know I always prefer the long version."
He nods, his gaze browsing through the room for a few moments, before he turns back to me, taking a deep inhale before he can gather up the strength to start speaking.
"My investment — the one for the startup — didn't exactly go the way I was hoping it would. On the contrary, it pulled me into a lot of shit," he begins, his eyes nervously darting back and forth between me and the table. "The guy I invested in turned out to be a fraud."
"Shit!" I exclaim. "So your money is gone?"
He nods his head. "Yes, but that's not the problem. The problem is that I, as his major seed investor, am getting drawn into this. All my assets are put on hold, and I may be facing a lawsuit if my attorneys don't find a way out."
"They will, though, right?" I inquire. "I mean, you didn't know about this. It's not your fault."
He huffs.
"No, I didn't know about this," he agrees. "But I should have known. There were so many uncertainties with this guy, so many signs that should have warned me. But I didn't listen. I should have been more careful, more aware."
He looks pained, his shoulders tensing up and his hands clenching together on the table. It's easy to see how hard it is for him to tell me all of this.
"But... why didn't you just tell me what was going on?" I want to know. "Why did you just cancel your membership? Were you afraid to tell me the truth?"
He looks up at me, his eyebrows arching in surprise.
"I didn't cancel my membership," he says. "I was banned from The Velvet Rooms. Miss Barry was very insistent that I stay away from the club as long as I was involved in a criminal investigation and impending lawsuit."
My eyes widen in understanding. "They just threw you out?"
"Me and my investment, yes," he says. "It's only temporary, I'm sure. This will get resolved, but it will take some time."
"I see."
I reach for my glass, unsure what to make of this. He didn't leave on his own account. He was forced to forfeit his investment and banned from entering the club, so he had to stop seeing me, and was left with no way of contacting me. I, on the other hand, knew his name, which should have been enough to look him up and find a way to contact him.
If I had dared to.
I was so busy coming up with my own conclusions that I didn't even think of running after him. My head is shaking as I let out a helpless chuckle.
He cocks his head to the side, a puzzled look on his handsome face. "What's so funny?"
"I thought you were done with me," I explain, now realizing how silly I must sound. "I thought you didn't want to see me anymore, that I was just a throwaway whore to you... and now you're telling me that it wasn't even your choice to stop seeing me."
I pause, biting my lower lip as I ponder my next words.
"It's just...," I utter. "The past few days have been horrible, excruciating. And to know that I wouldn't have had to go through that if I'd just…."
He reaches out to me, taking my hand in his.
"You and me both," he says. "I interpreted your silence the same way you took mine."
Our eyes meet, holding each other in a tense and silent stare for several moments, before I ask my question.
"So, this isn't over?"
He shakes his head. "If you're asking me, it's only just beginning."
The weight that's falling away from me in that moment nearly causes me to burst into tears from the sheer overpowering relief that comes with it.
I'm trembling, and my vision blurs as our appetizers are brought to the table. I fear speaking because I know I can't stop myself from crying if I do.
But why should I? He wouldn't want me to hide this from him.
So I don't. I don't care that tears are running down my face when I respond, "I'm... we are... yes."
My voice breaks after that pointless stutter, but he understands. He squeezes my hand across the table, the smile on his face widening.
"Shit, you're pretty when you cry."
He winks at me, lifting the tension with his remark and the gesture. I laugh, hurrying to wipe away the tears on my cheeks, tears that weren't caused by sorrow or loss, but from overwhelming joy.
"I stopped working," I tell him, because I don't know what else to say. And because I think it will make him happy to hear. "I'm not working at The Velvet Rooms anymore."
He nods. "I know, your friend told me."
Of course. Sandi. When she came over to my place for brunch today, I was still the sad little mess that thought I'd lost him forever. How could I have known that she came with a message from him, with a card that had his name and number on it, delivering the news that he wanted to see me tonight.
"I don’t think he's done with you," she said, sharing a cautious smile with me. She knew how unraveled I was.
All day long, I stared at this card, wondering whether I should let him know that I'd been thinking about him nonstop, that I missed him, and that I couldn't wait to see him.
But I was too scared. I was scared that I misunderstood his intentions, that this was not what he wanted to see me for. I was scared he'd just wanted to set up a new contract, to buy me in a way my former clients did, when I was still working at Violent Delights.
"I probably don't have to tell you how happy that makes me," he adds. "You know how much I hate sharing."
I shrug. "You know I wanted to quit a long time ago. I knew I was done with this line of work."
The way he lowers his eyes at me makes me think that my words are making him uncomfortable. After all, he was a paying customer, just like any other man in that club, and he had been a client at Violent Delights before that. He has a tainted background, just like I do.
"You're... I mean, you don't plan on going back either, right?" I ask, stammering. "Even if you were allowed to."
He lets out a single laugh, shaking his head at the idea.
"I only went to The Velvet Rooms for you, Elene," he says. "If you're not there, I have no reason to return."
He pauses, fixating on me with a mischievous smile on his face.
"We'll have to find a new place for ourselves," he adds.
I smirk at him. "Got something in mind?"
He nods. "Yes, but we'll eat first."
"A real date," I say dreamily. "Dinner and everything. Just like normal people."
"Just like normal people," he repeats, picking up his fork.
Our eyes remain focused on each other, the flicker in his telling me that he considers us as normal just as little as I do.
Chapter 43
Damon
I can't turn my eyes away from her naked silhouette as she stands by the window, absentmindedly twirling the drink in her hand, as her gaze wanders across the cityscape below. She moves so naturally in my home, as if she's been here a thousand times before. As if it was her place. She doesn't feel like a stranger in my home, but like she belongs.
I should have brought her here right from the start. I should have stolen her from The Velvet Rooms before we were torn apart by circumstance.
Our clothes were off a minute after we stepped inside, the hunger for each other so strong that I didn't even bother carrying her over to my bedroom. She curled up in my arms, our lips pressed against each other as I moved her over to the couch, ravenous as I claimed her body for the very first time outside a place that was more public than it was private.
It
was different to have her here. It was loud, it was messy, it was violent in a good way.
She tried to climb on top of me, her lithe body clinging to mine with desperate need, but I wouldn't give up control today. The spanking she received was met with mewls of pleasure, and if anything, her mischievous beam only egged me on. I was driven by feral desire, fucking her with vicious force, as if I was afraid of losing her again.
I plunged into her tight wetness with no regard for anything but her, her face, her body, her hair as it draped across the cushions of my sofa. I will never get enough of the spark of pain that flickers across her face every time I thrust my cock between her limber legs. I know I'm far bigger than average, but making her moan in a blend of agony and bliss brings me more delight than it ever did with any girl before her.
She's trained at seduction, in controlling her body, and equipped with knowledge that makes her a skilled liar, but none of that comes to light when she is with me. She's the most beautiful when she lets go of everything she's learned, and no one can savor the result of that as much as I can.
When she came, wrapped around my cock, her tight muscles clenching with hot fury, there was nothing fake about what I witnessed on her pristine face. She rode that climax with an exuberance that cannot be simulated, and it's the most beautiful sight I could ask for. I was defenseless against it and joined her in an instant, my pelvis pressed against her spread lips as I found my release deep inside her.
Knowing that my cum is still dripping from her tender lips as she roams my living room instantly gets me hard again, as I sit in one of my armchairs, watching her.
She's walking toward the massive panorama window that stretches the full length of the wall from the floor all the way to the high ceiling, placing her dainty fingers against the glass as she looks out on the city.
"You could lose all of this?" she asks, without turning around to me. "It's such a lovely place."
