Wanting So Bad, Loving So Good

by Bella Bentley

  Oh Lord.

  Back door sex.

  Shit, McKenzie.

  I inserted it at once pretending I was going to be with him, fulfilling one of his fantasies. The feeling was strange, expansive, and I hoped I would get used to the feeling sooner than later.

  Looking for the blindfold, that was when I saw the exquisite diamond necklace. I had forgotten about that part. The necklace would practically cover my entire chest. It was truly what a queen would wear. I looked at the fasten and that’s when I saw a tiny piece of paper rolled discretely, delicately, almost like a small treasure map.

  What in the world?

  I unfolded the small paper afraid it may rip and squinted at the tiny ¼ of an inch paper.

  I will come for you.

  I will come for you?

  Was it him sending me a message? Or was this a subliminal message of programming? Was I supposed to have this mantra for the king—I will come for you?

  No, no! It’s from him! It has to be. I looked at the back of the small strip of paper.

  Please destroy and ingest at once.

  My heart leapt. It was from him!

  I quickly inserted the paper into my mouth and chewed it like gum and ingested it quickly.

  This thrill, excitement, was wild!

  I wrapped the lace blindfold around my eyes all the while thinking of him. Because I knew what to expect, this time I listed carefully to my surroundings trying to guess where I was going, or at least have some clue to ponder about later.

  I calmed my breathing down inhaling deeply. The silence was driving me crazy. It had to have been twenty minutes of this until the limo finally stopped. The door opened and the rush of wind blew in as well as the sound of a loud helicopter.

  A helicopter?

  It was very loud and as an arm led me, closer and closer to the sound, I knew what was happening. I was to get on the helicopter. I had never ridden in a helicopter before, and now that I was about to, I couldn’t see!

  My nerves were beyond haywire.

  “Watch your step.” A man’s voice instructed me.

  My heels caught on the step and I nearly fell but arms were behind me catching my fall.

  “Easy.”

  I squealed as I kept my step. Finally, I was in a helicopter being taken somewhere only God would know where.

  As I felt us lift up in the air, my stomach did flips and I nearly threw up.

  “Do you have any bag or something?” I said weakily.

  A plastic bag was put in my hand and I couldn’t help it. The nerves, the motion, not being able to see. It all came out.

  Right after, a warm moist towel was handed to me.

  “Here, drink this.”

  I felt a glass and could feel fizzing of a substance on my nose. It was too loud to hear its fizz. I took a sip of what tasted like carbonated water and welcomed the soothing of my nausea.

  Oh, McKenzie, you’re getting yourself into some trouble over some guy you may never ever see again.

  I shook my head dismissing my thoughts.

  But as I floated in the silence, I knew I had to see him again. I knew this was all worth the risk. We had a connection so strong, it felt like iron steel between our hearts, linking us like a chord.

  “Maybe he was your past life’s lover.” Shelly had kidded earlier over our third glass of Reisling.

  I never thought much about past lives, but feelings like this only made sense within the past life concept. How else could you be so attracted, feel so connected to someone?

  Finally, the copter landed what felt to be thirty minutes or so later. As a hand escorted me down the steps, the plunging temperature chilled me to the bone.

  A fur jacket was draped over my shoulder and I slid my arms through the arms. A minute later of walking, I heard a car door open.

  “Please get in.”

  I slid in to the leather feeling around. It was a smaller car, definitely not a limousine.

  My hands nervously stroked the fur covering my body. Where the heck was I? The temperature difference felt at least thirty degrees. We had to be higher in elevation somewhere.

  Less than two minutes of winding, and winding, the car stopped.

  This had to be it. The final destination. What time was it? It had to already be midnight.

  I was led out of the car and my heels wobbled a bit on what felt like stone. I heard creatures, birds, owls, and smelled the fragrance of rich evergreen trees. Maybe I was in the mountains?

  Iron knocking clanked against a door. The presence next to me subsided and I heard his footsteps walk away. The car drove away.

  I never felt more alone, more afraid. I had no idea where I was. I was in the middle of what sounded to be a forest and as always, my mind couldn’t wrap around the idea of who these people were.

  The seconds grew into minutes. No one had come to the door. I was just about to knock again when what sounded to be a sliding mini door opened and the words, “Password”, were forcefully asked.

  “TigerWater . . . uh.” Crap, I forgot the numbers! I had looked at it a dozen times. Shit. What was the number?

  I fidgeted with my jacket and then suddenly remembered. “6624”. Thank God.

  Or was God trying to protect you from going in? A little voice taunted me.

  The door opened with a giant squeak.

  “You may enter.”

  I entered into the chilly . . . er, what I assumed was the entryway?

  The door shut behind me and all I could do was wait for what was next.

  “She’s here, sir.” The man said.

  “Here. You may sit right here.”

  Sit right here? This was rather different than last time.

  The nerves sent heat throughout my body and I suddenly felt hot. As I struggled to get out of the jacket, the man hastily ordered me to leave the jacket on.

  So, I sat waiting. Completely nervous. I felt nauseous again and was reminded of that foreign sensation down there with the plug deep within me. This was all very uncomfortable.

  “Ah, there she is.” A man’s voice boomed. A man’s voice that commanded a presence.

  “My Queen for the night.” Two hot kisses appeared on my cheeks by the apparent king of the night. His flood of cologne alerted my senses, as did a heavy thickness of cigar smoke.

  He draped my arm through his and began walking, leading me as I coughed.

  “Ah, we are going to have a lovely time together.” He said very eccentrically, his Bostonian accent blaring.

  My heels echoed loudly in what sounded to be another grand palace judging from the empty acoustics.

  I couldn’t help but imagine this man next to me wore a pointed mustache like men wore in the olden days. He just sounded like one of those men.

  I wrapped my right arm tightly around my stomach as a protecting mechanism.

  “Ah, don’t you worry your little pretty face.”

  Suddenly, I felt the lifting of my blindfold and a flood of dimly lit candles from gas lanterns stung my eyes. I was stunned. Last time everything was so secretive. I wasn’t able to see anything or anyone until I was in a private room with him.

  My eyes continued to adjust to the dimly lit stone hallway. It felt like we were in a cave of some sort with the plunging temperature and the way the halls were covered in stone.

  “No need to hide your eyes any longer. You won’t figure out where you are.” He smirked. “How is the little plug?” His accent was even more prominent now.

  The question jerked my observance from the lit candles on the walls on to the very raw realness of the moment and what lay ahead next. The taking of my ass. I was terrified.

  “Uh . . . .” I bit my lip as he laughed gregariously.

  “I chose the right one for tonight. I just know it.” He laughed wickedly as he pinched my cheek hard.

  “I—”

  I couldn’t find the words to speak. I didn’t know what to say. I suddenly felt like the virginal maid in medieval times being ta
ken to a king to “lay”.

  Using my peripheral vision, I discreetly studied this man who allegedly was the king of this night and my stomach dropped to the tip of my toes. I was terrified! He was atrocious looking! He indeed did have a mustache, yet it was shorter. He wore a crisp tuxedo. The little hair he had left was gelled back creepily around his receding hairline. He was short and fat, and his cigar hung precariously in the side of his mouth.

  He looked like the perfect fit for what a man in charge of the mafia would look like. He turned to stare at me.

  Oh my God, I’m terrified!

  After briefly looking into his crystal sky blue eyes surrounded heavily with laugh lines that sat proudly above the dark bags under his eyes, I quickly looked down at the stone in utter fear.

  He looked at me with an amused look as he laughed loudly and puffed cigar smoke in my face. Then he pressed me up against the wall and kissed me forcefully and I nearly gagged at his cigar-laden breath. I held my breath and nearly choked.

  His hands knew all the right places. He then trailed to my neck, my collar bone. Before I could catch my breath from terror, fright and disgust, he pulled away.

  “You taste just as good as you look.” He pulled away and wiped his mouth and kept walking straight ahead, pulling me like a child with a puppy. I unfortunately could not say the same of him! I was absolutely terrified. There was no way this was going to be enjoyable!

  Help! I felt panicked. I couldn’t breath. I could feel an anxiety attack was looming, ready to come any second. Maybe I could get out of this if I passed out?

  I will come for you.

  Rang in my memory from his note. Would he truly?

  Oh shit. I sure hope so.

  “A Queen is expected to be by her king’s side at all events. To never leave his presence and to say yes to anything and everything. Understood?” He said with his wicked grin.

  Oh hell no. I wanted to say.

  McKenzie, you signed a document, and you’re getting paid.

  There’s no way this could be worth it. I felt dizzying sick.

  “Ah, I can tell by the look of you. You’re far from home, from Texas.”

  I nearly stopped dead in my tracks. That line sobered my fear up quickly. I forgot how much these people knew.

  “I trust that Stanford is everything you hope it is and you are satisfied there? Speaking of satisfaction. As long as we are satisfied in here, you will be satisfied out there.”

  Oh. My. Effing. G.

  Okay, McKenzie, pull yourself together. If you’re too tight, it will just be miserable. Pretend it’s “him”.

  I kept my eyes down to the stone as I thought to myself. Finally we came to an oversized grand wooden door. Two servants stood with champagne. The other stood with scotch. He let out a loud laughter as he reached for the scotch and downed it throwing the glass on the ground.

  The breaking of the glass caused me to jump, which caused him to laugh even harder.

  “Oh, help yourself!”

  “Madam?” The woman asked who stood with an unreadable expression, which leaned more on the lines of fear and numbness. I wondered if she was held against her will here just like the woman who warned me to stay away from this place. I should have listened to her!

  “Please.” I reached for the champagne flute as the doors opened to a grand luxury suite, which I presumed to be his room. Wooden beams in the ceiling, lush furnishings, a grand bed. A black bear fur rug in front of the bed with the bear’s head still on it. It was all a rustic feel.

  The door shut loudly behind us and he locked it with a skeleton key. I inhaled deeply and my confidence began failing. There, alone in the middle of nowhere, I stood in an outfit that cost thousands, and a man with icy blue eyes with a hungry appetite for sex. He stared at me as he huffed more on his cigar. He walked towards a mini bar and poured himself another glass as I stood there not knowing what to do.

  He turned slowly around and stared at me. The only other sound besides the puffing of his cigar was the crackling of the fire. The subdued sounds only added fuel to my nervousness.

  “You are a young one. And if I must make an educated guess—“ he shook the glass of his scotch and drank it.

  “You are a virgin in the ass. Am I correct on that?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, then. This will be a lot of fun.” He licked his lips and I felt incredibly creeped out.

  “Maybe we should first start with this cigar here?”

  I gulped.

  “The lit cigar.” His eyes were filled with fire.

  “The lit cigar?” I asked repulsed.

  He nodded with a sadistic grin as he walked slowly towards me. I could practically hear him growling.

  “Oh yes. This lit cigar.”

  I took a sip of my champagne. My hand was shaking in fear. Hell, I downed it.

  With each step of his shiny expensive shoes, my heart pounded, as it’s vibration tickled my ears.

  He’s joking! He’s joking, surely. It was a metaphor! For how he wanted to light my ass on fire? Right? Shit . . . right?

  Oh. My. God.

  Chapter Twelve

  I downed the champagne flute and searched for a place to set the flute because my hands shook so much.

  My fight or flight senses kicked in. Survive McKenzne! Stall him!

  “I . . . have a better idea.” I quickly stammered as I clenched the glass. I felt so much strength pulsating in my veins, I was afraid some super-hero strength would kick in and any second the glass would burst into a thousand pieces.

  “Oh do you, my pet?” He stroked that gray disgusting mustache of his and I wished that the flame would catch his mustache on fire. But something told me the perpetual creepy habit of stroking his beard was an art he had managed to perfection. I felt sick to my stomach. He was text book definition, creepy!

  I wish he would just stroke something else, not need me, and leave me alone! I was scared to death.

  “I’ve been told that I can suck a nail right out of a wall,” the words flew out of my mouth and I had to choke down the rising vomit of picturing his manhood. I couldn’t even manage to think what went on down south of the border.

  Gag.

  His eyes instantly widened and I knew I had to turn up the sex appeal. Be like an actress! I told myself.

  “If you know what I mean . . . . ”

  “My, my, my. An eager one!” He clapped his palms together loudly.

  I studied him quickly wondering what to do next. The cigar embers were glowing, burning, ready to fall on the floor.

  “But, first, I need to freshen up, just a second. Do you mind?”

  He licked his lips.

  “Certainly.” He motioned to the bathroom to the side of the room. “But don’t be too long. You’ve created a soft spot in me with that southern belle act of yours, but if you don’t hurry up, you’ll be punished.”

  Good Lord.

  I shut the bathroom behind me and turned the sink on.

  Shit, what am I going to do? What the fuck am I even going to do? I need to freshen up? Now what? Now what? Think! Think!

  I looked down at the golden facet handle and saw a small tag with an arrow. My eyebrows instantly furrowed in curiosity. My eyes trailed to the round gold tissue holder and I looked at it. I quickly looked under it to find a small note taped on the base that read:

  Inside me

  What?

  I frantically took out Kleenex after Kleenex until finally a small, small bottle, slightly larger than my thumbnail, with the tiniest of notes attached to it was discovered. I felt like Alice in Wonderland with all these random notes popping up seemingly out of nowhere. I never even imagined such tiny notes existed until this whole experience. These men think of everything and if something doesn’t exist, they make sure it’s created.

  “Hurry up in there!”

  I jumped in fright and nearly dropped the small glass contents. I imagined Romeo and Juliet, it looked like the small potions from the d
ark ages or medieval times carried for times of pain, surgery, or death. Attached was a small rolled up thin piece of paper similar to the one I found in the box in the limo.

  Get him to drink this and he will be out like a baby.—Me.

  The note read.

  A sigh of relief flooded my body. Was he even serious? Was this even happening? Was this my way out? Would it kill him? I shook my head and thought that surely it wouldn’t.

  You would be a murder accomplice!

  I shook my head and looked at the note again, inspecting it as I turned it over.

  This isn’t poison. Trust me. Please do it or it will be a very long night.

  I clutched the potion and instinctively tucked it in my bra. Good thing I had tons of cleavage and room to work with! For once I was most thankful for my double D’s. Instead of my ladies feeling like a curse from the annoying pig stares from men, today they could possibly save my stomach forever. Feeling incredibly nervous, I had to suddenly use the restroom. But before I flushed the toilet, I ripped the tiny notes to shreds and flushed its contents so he wouldn’t ever be caught.

  I quickly relieved myself and my hands shook as I washed them. I now was left with the task of slipping this liquid into his drink. How the hell was I going to do that?

  The door flew open and I felt like I jumped a mile high.

  “I hate waiting.”

  I looked in the mirror as he leaned against the doorframe, huffing and huffing.

  I turned quickly around to face him.

  He has a soft spot for southern belles. Turn up that charm.

  “Well, why didn’t you just say so honey,” I sauntered towards him as I noticed this obviously pleased him.

  He stood amused, with a smirk on his face.

  With all the acting skills I could muster, I leaned in towards his smoky breath and whispered, “I just need to pour us a drink. For my specialty.” I drew out the words to spec-el-teeeey.

  He flinched and I knew I was fulfilling some sort of fantasy for him.

  He nodded his head slowly but just for a moment. He reached for me with both arms.

  “No, no. I don’t need a drink. I need you.” He said hungrily.

  Stay calm!

  I laughed.