by Barker, Kira
I had no idea where the sudden rush of emotion had come from, but it subsided slowly as I got a grip on myself. “Calm” wasn’t quite there yet, but, if anything, I had learned to act over the last decade, composing my exterior in the face of turmoil inside. Soon, my frantic breathing had slowed down to sedate in- and exhales, my heart rate decreasing. It was likely just nerves—last time I’d seen Darren, I had had little time to fully freak out as I’d had to ditch my handlers; now, my mind had had hours to dwell on the impact of what I intended to do. The fact that I was lying to myself didn’t hinder the soothing reaction on my mind.
Feeling more composed again, I let out my breath one last time, getting ready to return, when I suddenly felt heat closing in behind me. A whisper of air against my mostly bare back, then a strong, tall body pressed against me, effectively locking me in between him and the balustrade, still facing outward. My first reaction was to go rigid and let the fight-or-flight instinct do its thing, but I stomped down on both immediately. Instead, I made myself relax, hating myself just a little bit when my body obeyed immediately.
A scream died low in my throat, replaced by a sultry chuckle. I didn’t need to check over my shoulder to know who was towering behind me.
“Miss me?” I asked, proud of how steady my voice sounded. A little breathy, yes, but that could have been excitement rather than fright. What it actually was I didn’t bother to analyze.
“Always,” Darren whispered, his voice doing things to my body that should not have been possible had my sanity still been intact. It was just as I remembered—low and certain—only now it held an edge that hadn’t been there before. Before the basement, that was; I’d become intimately familiar with it in the last few days of our acquaintance.
“I was wondering when you’d track me down,” I replied, allowing myself a small smile even if he likely couldn’t see it. A waste, really, because it took a lot to keep it from looking fake. But goading him on was reward enough to make up for the acid churning in my stomach.
He replied with a chuckle, steel still in his voice but now sheathed in velvet.
“Didn’t you get my flowers?”
I turned just enough to be able to glance back over my shoulder—about the maximum freedom of movement our position left me. His eyes were burning into mine, the intensity enough to make my throat go tight—among other things.
“I wouldn’t have worn this dress if I hadn’t. Do you like it?”
I was tempted to spew some vitriol at the girl—there was a time and place for a little black dress that both looked great and gave good access, but the opera was not it—but cut off there when I felt him grind his groin against my ass. Even through the layers of fabric I could feel his erection, leaving me oddly satisfied although I knew that it likely hailed from what he’d been doing to Daliah rather than my presence.
“I love it,” he murmured against the side of my neck. Then he grabbed the fabric below my ass and started pushing it up, his hands soon hot against the naked tops of my thighs. I was wearing stockings and garters but hadn’t bothered with panties—the dress was hassle enough as it was where going to the bathroom was concerned. And really, I had a reputation to live up to, also to myself—making his touch even more prominent now. It was rather obvious what he had in mind even before I heard the zipper of his fly descend.
There was a part of me that halted. A part that wanted to scream, turn around, push him away, attack, anything just to get away—but it was a dwindling, small part of me. It was so easy to ignore, to lean forward to better support myself against the balustrade, my legs a little further apart to give me good balance even on my three-inch heels. And it was anticipation rather than a laissez-faire attitude that gripped me just as he sank his fingers into the fleshy part of my hip, guiding himself into me with one hard thrust.
A sound between a sigh and a small cry left me, quickly silenced by his other hand across the lower part of my face. But it stayed there only until I’d fallen silent, then moved lower, strong fingers wrapping around my throat, making my already galloping pulse spike. I jerked my hips back against his, sheathing him even more firmly inside of me, turning the angle just right. His fingers squeezed harder, keeping my hips still and pushing noticeably against my trachea, before he let go with that upper hand, switching it for a better grip to steady me instead.
He withdrew, then pushed into me again, the motion easily facilitated by just how wet I was. If seeing him again for the first time had made me feel alive, now it was as if someone had rammed a syringe filled with adrenaline directly into my heart. My body remembered what eight months of a dry spell should have let it forget, moving instantly as it was supposed to. It felt so good—so right—that for just a few moments, I forgot why I was here and who was fucking me into oblivion.
Then his lips pressed against the side of my neck, just where I’d stabbed him, and my mind came back online. My body gave an involuntary jerk as I felt his teeth scrape over my skin, then sink deeper—not enough to draw blood but hard enough to hurt. His fingers disappeared from my hips, giving me a moment where I might have turned around, but I was too slow. On his next thrust forward, he pressed me more firmly against the balustrade, just as his hands came up to mine, twining our fingers. On the left side, it was almost a caress—loving, tender—but on the right his digits convulsed around mine, making badly knit bones grate against each other, a stark reminder of what I’d been forced to do to myself to get away.
To live.
One might have thought that was enough to shake the haze of lust from my mind, but no. Instead of trying to lessen the pain, I squeezed right back, forcing the ring to bite deeper into my hand, but also his above it. His breath was rasping loud against my ear, hitching when my own pain became almost unbearable—and then I came, clenching hard around him, ecstasy racing through my veins. I let out a harsh gasp, cutting off the building scream before it made it past my lips. Just as my enjoyment crested, I felt him release into me, finishing with two hard jerks before he let go, stepping away immediately.
While he zipped himself up, I let the heavy full skirt of my dress drop, making me appear decent within seconds. My mind was still blank, my heart now slowing down, even with fear and apprehension, paired with a hefty dose of self-loathing, slowly taking over. So much for my plan to string him along forever, always teasing but never giving him what he wanted.
Well, there was always a plan B. And C. And twenty-three other letters in the alphabet.
Darren was still crowding me but that one step away that he’d taken was enough for me to turn around, my knee brushing against his. He looked up, and for a moment he tensed, presumably to catch me should I run, but I had no intention to. Instead, I leaned back against the low wall that had supported me so well, feeling just a hint of vertigo when my conscious mind screamed at my brain stem that it would take only a small shove to send me backward into my certain death.
“I see… not much has changed,” I observed, again glad that my voice held none of the apprehension currently tightening its grip around my throat.
His brows went up and he cocked his head to the side, studying me as if my words puzzled him.
“One would think that it has, considering,” he replied.
“Considering what? The fact that you’re banging that little slut of yours?” I let that hang in the air between us before I allowed myself the slightest of frowns. “Is she even a slut? I mean, considering your track record, I can’t believe that she can live up to your previous conquests. No, I think she’s more like a nun. A pretty, easy-to-impress nun.”
Darren gave me a smile that was just calculating enough that I figured he knew that I wasn’t as indifferent about Daliah as I aimed to appear.
“She’s young,” he admitted. “Impressionable. So very eager to learn.”
If he thought he could goad me on with that, he had lost his edge.
“Really? I thought you’d be at least a little above the stereotypical egotistical man ap
proaching his midlife crisis. Banging a young girl just so you can impress her with your skills? Does she know who taught you those moves?”
Maybe licking my lips there was a bit much, but just seeing how his eyes followed the motion before they skipped back up to mine was worth the bad taste of lipstick. Or maybe that was just regret.
“She doesn’t need to know everything.”
That was such a lawyered-up reply that I couldn’t keep from laughing.
“Since when are you so circumspect about naming things by their true name?” His gaze held mine, then flitted to my chest for a moment, making me chuckle again. “I’m not wearing a wire, if that’s what you think.”
Darren shrugged, not looking too impressed. Well, he wouldn’t, after the stunt he’d pulled on me with my phone.
“Maybe I just don’t want to appear crude?” he suggested.
“Yeah, because tattooing your name across my cunt is so subtle,” I shot back, aiming for levity rather than bitterness. I didn’t quite succeed, but that just seemed to drive home the message that I wasn’t cringing away from him. He considered me for a second, pursing his lips.
“Why are you here? Not here, specifically. It is quite obvious what you’re here for.”
“Letting you fuck me?” I suggested, aiming for a languid shrug to go along with my words.
“That could hardly have been your goal.”
“Says who?” I asked, settling back on my right elbow as I continued to look up at him. “Just because I’ve had more sex than the average woman in her entire life doesn’t mean I intend to stop just yet.”
“So you weren’t busy stocking up and reclaiming your client roster?” he suggested.
I shook my head, smiling as if that very idea was ludicrous. “My clients? Of course not. You know how the spiel goes. You’re not paying the madam to send the whore to you. You’re simply reimbursing the girl for the quality time she’s spending with you.”
I really couldn’t read the look on his face, but some of the sharpness left his gaze. Was that a note of jealousy that I’d detected? Interesting.
“So you have switched sides?”
“I’m transitioning,” I said, mostly to add that little barb of possibility in there. From the way his eyes flashed it had found the intended target, but it only took him a moment to get a grip on himself again.
“I presume that means I will see you around?”
“There’s the possibility of that,” I replied, allowing myself another lazy, seductive smile. “Not that you have any problems finding me. It was a nice gesture of you, footing my bill.”
His lips curled up into an equal smile.
“After seeing you in that terrible dress with that fake tan and bad makeup, how could I let you continue to exist in such squalor?”
I hated that he’d been able to see right through my getup, but it also presented another opportunity.
“You noticed? Comes with the trade, I guess. After all, you do have to do their makeup and hair afterward, right? No whore dies pretty and perfectly put together.”
Now it was easy to smile at how a muscle jumped in his temple as he gnashed his teeth, but he forced himself to relax a moment later—much, much too quickly for my ease of mind. It still felt like a triumph that he seemed incapable of completely locking away that side of him that he so perfectly hid from everyone else in the world.
It was high time for me to end this—things could only go downhill from here.
“Well, it was a pleasure, as always,” I said, not even emphasizing anything in that statement. “But unlike you, I’m not here for that alone.”
Darren paused, but then took another step back, leaving enough room for me to remove myself from my perch.
“I see. Still not ready to cast off your leash.”
His barb stung, but I managed to fend it off with a simple gesture of my hand—the left now.
“Nothing’s free in this world. But I prefer the leash I choose a lot over the one that’s forced on me.”
With that, I left him standing there as I made my way back into the hall. By the time the curtain fell, I was back in my seat at Brigitte’s side, ignoring the wet stain that made my dress feel just a little icky. She shot me a side-long glance, but didn’t ask. A leash I might be wearing, but it was only a temporary one—and the day that I’d cast it off would come very, very soon.
Chapter 5
I would have preferred to make a quick exit once people started to depart, but our work here wasn’t done yet. I helped myself to some champagne and forced a pleasant smile on my face as Brigitte continued to lead me through the rooms, pausing here for a moment, chatting there for a few more. It took a lot of restraint to refrain from seeking out Darren in the crowd, but in passing, I saw that he, Daliah, and the Mosses were crowded together with another couple roughly Alison and Ray’s age, making me guess that they were entertaining clients. They seemed in no hurry to depart, so I told myself to relax.
I was surprised when about twenty minutes into this, Brigitte pulled me to the side, her eyes idly skimming the crowd.
“You’re off the clock, as far as I’m concerned,” she said, her tone mildly teasing.
Raising my brows in question, I eyed her askance. “That soon?”
“Feel free to work the crowd on your own,” she offered. “But I’m done for tonight.” With that, she stepped away from me, and I followed her path through the people until she paused next to a sophisticated looking man in his sixties—which meant he actually looked ten years her senior easily, but the smile that spread across his face upon seeing her approach tore them right off his features. Her doctor, if I had to guess—the man who, according to her, had saved her from herself. They hugged briefly—although the way her hand stroked down his arm wasn't anything even close to casual—and together they turned to go, leaving me with a certain sense of melancholy. I didn’t need her verbal reminder to remember that talk we’d had, where she’d pretty much told me that the kind of arrangement that she had with that man was what I should seek out with Darren. Knowing what I did now, it was obvious that it never would have worked, but it still made me wonder what would have happened had I attempted to steer things in that direction. Would he have quit on me, leaving me with my heart heavy but my body and soul intact? It seemed much more likely that such a move would only have accelerated the inevitable, but without the trust he’d had in me until the very end—trust that had given me the one advantage that I’d needed to survive. As the saying went, I would never know.
It wasn’t coincidence that just as I thought that, my eyes found Darren’s in the crowd. He’d probably been watching me for a while, dividing his attention between his oh-so-sweet fiancée, his clients, and the prize that he really wanted to sink his teeth into. As I held his gaze, I couldn’t help but wonder how to proceed. What we were doing wasn’t unlike playing a mental game of chess—only that I had a single piece left to move: myself. The way his gaze smoldered even across the distance told me that while I’d given a greater concession tonight than I’d intended to, it didn’t seem to have left me at a disadvantage. In fact, maybe giving him that taste could work out in my favor, letting him remember what he’d lost—and what was dangling just out of reach for him now.
Suddenly, keeping to the sidelines was the last thing on my mind.
I didn’t head straight for them, but kept my halts to a minimum. There were less than twenty people in the building that I knew personally, so it wasn’t hard not to get held up. With my confidence now bolstered, I even found a hint of enjoyment as I watched him follow my path.
It was Alison, actually, who took the decision from me whether at all, or if, when, to approach them. While my focus remained mostly on Darren, I couldn’t help but notice that she kept watching him, if in a much more stealthy manner than he was staring at me. When she finally figured out what held his attention, her eyes narrowed, but only for a second. If there was anyone in the world who had a better game face than who
res, it was lawyers.
A sharp nod from her had me drop my pretense of taking my time, and I purposefully strode toward the group. Darren’s spine straightened, but to say he stiffened would have been too much. Ray kept chatting with the middle-aged couple that was with them, although I doubted that he had missed me. Clearly, tonight was not the night to let the horndog out of the bag, and he was on his best behavior. It reminded me of one of his warnings—and the admission that, like me, he was playing a role more often than not.
Invited me she might have, but I was still surprised when Alison greeted me with open arms and a smile that looked real enough that it could have fooled me. “Penelope, what a surprise to see you here!” she said, quickly introducing me to her clients, the Appletows. Some smiles were exchanged but they clearly had no idea who I was. “It is so refreshing to meet a fellow patron of the arts here in your free time. I always have to find some incentive to get Ray and Darren to come along. At least I presume you’re not working tonight?”
I was burning to offer something stupid like I was technically never fully off the clock, but that was not an answer befitting the occasion. So instead I didn’t comment on her presumption at all.
“I love Tosca. I would have been devastated to miss it.”
Her brows drew together lightly.
“I’m surprised that you got tickets. The shows have been sold out for months already. Don’t ask what I had to do to get them.” Likely just a phone call to the right people, but it was a great opening that she presented me with there. I idly wondered why she did that.
“Oh, Brigitte and I have an open reservation,” I divulged. “Would have been a shame to let the tickets go to waste as they were already paid for. And it’s not like this isn’t a wonderful opportunity to network.”
“So this was a business expense after all?” Alison guessed.
