by Cassy Roop
I enjoyed putting on the teal piece again, enjoying how sexy it made me feel and to have the ability to smile knowing what was underneath my clothing. I don’t care what anyone says, a good pair of lingerie always makes a woman feel sexy, no matter what.
I walked over to the closet and sifted through the numerous dresses I had that accompanied some of the other lingerie pieces I had in there. The event was formal, so I needed something that would fit the events of the evening, while giving me the sexy edge that I wanted to create. I found a silk dress in nearly the exact same color as the lingerie I was wearing and decided that it would be perfect. Pulling it off the hanger, I held it up in front of me. Fate must have been on my side because I didn’t realize that the top of the dress matched the top of my new bra perfectly. I looked at the tag.
Agent Provocateur.
It was a slip dress that Lexie had gotten me for my birthday this past year. I laughed at the irony and proceeded to slip into the gown. It featured two thigh-high slits up both sides of my legs that rested just to the edge of my stockings. In the back, the lace tapered from the nape of my neck down all the way to the top of my ass, exposing most of my backside. It was sexy and elegant at the same time. I needed to remind myself to thank Lexie later.
I returned to the bathroom, zapping my rolled hair with the dryer and then let the rollers sit to cool while I applied my make-up. I wanted something very sexy and simple to go with my dress, so I chose to do a simple cat-eye lined lid with a few swipes of mascara and a dab of pink lip gloss. The deep black line of my eyes made me look like a 1940’s pin-up girl, so to complete the look, I removed the rollers and sectioned off my bangs. Parting them over to the side, I created a small pinwheel look to them before pinning them in place and then swept my long and now wavy hair over to the side to rest on my shoulder so that my back would be exposed. A few spritzes of my favorite honeysuckle perfume and I was ready to go.
After returning to my room to slip on my grey sequined strappy sandals, I grabbed a matching clutch from the top of my closet and ventured into the living room to transfer all of the items I would need tonight into it from my purse, even throwing in a few extra condoms.
You know. Just in case.
I called ahead of time for a cab, because I didn’t want to stand out in the freezing cold to wait for one knowing that the wind would cut right through the delicate silk dress I was wearing, even with my trench coat on. The ride over to the hotel where the party was taking place was spent thinking about Andris and my mystery client. Since it was a business type setting, I assumed that Andris would have me address him as such as opposed to Sinclaire. The more I thought about it, the Sinclaire name didn’t really fit the rugged sexiness that was Andris Gunn.
I arrived at the hotel just a little past eight pm, and as the cab pulled up a gentleman in a well-tailored suit and white gloves opened the door for me and I felt the cold breeze hit my legs as I stepped from the cab. I thanked him, pulling my jacket tighter around me to combat the cold and proceeded up the stairs to the hotel entrance.
The New York Palace was a beautiful hotel set in Midtown that blended modern with classic New York elegance. The party was being held in a bar beneath the hotel’s large grand staircase in the lobby. Trouble’s Trust was modernly designed with deep red liqueur walls and embossed leather panels. It featured an intricately designed liquid metal bar, but the most impressive thing about the room was the floor to ceiling wine display.
There were probably already close to seventy people in the bar when I arrived, making it difficult to spot Andris.
Not that I was looking for him.
A gentleman at the entrance accepted my coat and I held onto my clutch just in case I needed anything inside. I made my way over to the bar, standing behind two older women who were engrossed in conversation. Their hair was immaculately styled, and their makeup done to perfection. I could tell that the women were older than what their appearance showed, thanks to the wonders of Botox.
“Madam, what may I get for you?” The bartender asked when he noticed I had picked up one of the specialty drink menus from the bar.
“I think I would like to try the ‘Queen of Mean’ please,” I said as my eyes scanned over the rest of the menu. Breuckelen Wheat Whiskey, Ginger Beer, Red Jacket NY Apple Juice,
Averell "Damson Gin", elderflower syrup, fresh lemon, and a baked apple chip garnish seemed enticing enough to me. The bartender went to work mixing my drink just as the two older ladies turned around to look at me.
“Your dress is beyond gorgeous, my dear. If I were younger, I would have to show it off myself. How do you know my husband?”
At first I was a little shocked by her question. Given my profession, I met a lot of women’s “husbands”. Was she asking me if I slept with her husband? Did I sleep with her husband?
She must have noticed the furrow of my brows as I tried to search my mind for who she could be, so she reached out and put a gentle hand on my forearm.
“Doctor Robert Gunn.”
“Ah, yes,” I said giggling. “He was my therapist for many years, until recently.” I explained to her, feeling relived that I had never slept with Dr. Gunn.
“What is your name, dear?”
I extended my hand to hers while her older friend looked on.
“Nicola Forbes. Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Gunn.”
She took my hand delicately in hers, rubbing her thumb on the back of my hand.
“Please, call me Dottie. That Mrs. Gunn shit makes me feel old. Nicola Forbes. You must be the beautiful daughter of former Senator Forbes.”
I tensed a little. I hated it when people brought up my parents. Not that it bothered me to speak about them, but years of “I’m sorry for your loss,” or hearing about how “wonderful” my father was when I knew different got rather old.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Well, how that old fart made such a beautiful woman like you is beyond me. Oh, no offense, dear.”
I liked her instantly.
“None taken, trust me.”
“Forgive me, this is my friend Shelby Patterson. She flew into town yesterday to surprise her husband. We go back many years. Her husband often comes to New York on business, but it is rare she gets to attend.”
I really tensed then. It had to be a coincidence. Had to.
“Nice to meet you as well,” I said as sweetly as I could to the woman. She smiled up at me and repeated the same kindness.
“Yes, my husband is floating around here somewhere. Probably bugging Robert about being too old to handle working anymore.”
I laughed, though it was fake. Shit. There was no telling how many of these high class assholes that were at the party were, or still are, clients of mine. I just hoped that none of them noticed, put two and two together, or said anything that would compromise my identity.
“My nephew should meet you, my dear. He is single, you know. Are you seeing anybody?” Dottie asked with a certain gleam in her eye. Great. She was trying to play matchmaker. The last thing I wanted to be subjected to was some weasel who would spend all night trying to take me home to get in my pants. If he wanted it, he would have to pay just like everyone else, and my shit was high dollar.
“No, I’m single.”
Shit. Why did I say that?
Dottie got up from her seat after tossing back the rest of her Cosmopolitan.
“Stay here, my dear. I’ll go find him.”
The bartender handed me my cocktail and I took a deep drink from the glass.
“Dottie means well, but she has been trying to get that nephew of hers to settle down for years. Her and Doctor Gunn never had children, so I think she has a deep want for babies running around the house,” Shelby said to me and my eyes grew wide. Children were definitely off my radar. Why would I want to subject a child to my fucked up life? Why would I want to bring another human being into this world when its own mother would be incapable of loving it like a normal person would?
She
lby excused herself to run to the restroom, which left me at the bar alone. I quickly finished my drink and took a seat in Dottie’s vacant bar chair, ordering another cocktail. As the bartender was serving me my second drink, a man approached me and sat in the chair that Shelby had vacated. He was an older man, dark skinned with matching dark hair. His suit was obviously custom tailored to fit his large frame. He was attractive, not overly like Andris, but for an older man he looked pretty good.
“Mind if I sit here?” He asked in a strong Italian mixed with a Jersey accent. The strong smell of his expensive cologne nearly overpowered me as he took a seat in the chair next to me.
“Whiskey, neat,” he said to the bartender when he walked over.
“So, what is a beautiful lady like you doing sitting at a bar all by herself?” I raised my eyebrows at him. Surely this wasn’t Dottie’s nephew. Sleaziness radiated from him from the too strong cologne, to the greasy slick of his dark hair.
“I was just enjoying my drink,” I said, tipping my glass up and taking a drink. I had no patience to deal with this man hitting on me all night. The only thing I wanted hitting on me tonight was the smack of mystery man’s balls as he drove into me while Andris watched. The thought of him joining in, sent a glorious shiver rolling down my spine.
“Let me get you another,” he said waving his hand at the bartender.
“Um, thanks.”
I sat staring at the condensation on my glass, letting my fingers catch the droplets of water before they fell onto the bar. I could feel the man’s eyes boring into me, trying to undress me with his eyes. It shouldn’t have bothered me because I was used to it, but something about this man yelled creep.
“What is your name, lovely girl?”
“Jericho Lane,” I offered, not wanting to reveal my real name to this man.
His eyes widened. No. Fuck, fuck no.
“Well, Miss Lane, if I said that I hadn’t heard about you I would be lying. In fact, old man Patterson was just speaking about what you did for him just yesterday. Now that I can see you in the flesh, I think I may have to make an investment in your services.”
He leaned in closer, lifting a hand to finger one of my loose curls and he traced the strand down to where it ended just at the nape of my neck and where the top of my dress began. His long, chunky fingers traced over the teal lace at my back before his fingers came into contact with my bare skin. This time the shiver I felt was not a welcome one.
“I’m sorry, but I am all booked at the moment. I am sure there are a number of girls at the agency that would be willing to oblige.”
“Surely, you would reconsider if the price is right, no?” He asked as he began to draw circles on the small of my back.
“I’m sorry, but who are you exactly? All sessions are set up through my agent, not me.”
“My apologies, Miss Lane,” he said, removing his hand from my back and extending it out to me. Reluctantly, I grabbed it and he pulled it toward him, allowing his wet lips to press a kiss to the back of my hand.
“Antonio Cardinelli,” he said as he still held onto my hand. I pulled it away from him as if to reach for my drink on the bar, when I felt someone else approach from behind. The familiar electric shock saturated my body and I knew who it was without having to turn around and look at him.
“Nicola, there you are.”
Antonio looked at me, knowing very well now that I had lied to him about my name.
“Good evening, Andris,” he said before tossing back the rest of his whiskey and standing from his chair.
“Antonio.”
One would have to be dumb not to feel the tension between the two men. I turned in my chair, Andris’s fingers stroked across my back as I did and it sent a million tingles into my system.
“Good evening, Andris,” I said, smiling up at him as our eyes met. He was devastatingly handsome. Even more so than the night he showed up at my condo in the black suit and chauffeur hat. The thought had my mind thinking. Why would a well off, sexy, powerful man like Andris, who was in one of the most prestigious families in New York, be acting like a chauffeur to my mystery client? I knew he had told me he was helping a man who had problems, but to act as a servant to him, and even watch and direct the whores in which his friend found companionship in, was rather strange.
“Nicola, here, was just telling me about her line of work, Andris. Her services sound rather interesting and I may be in touch soon for a sale.”
“Well as her doctor, I am recommending that Miss Forbes takes off several weeks from her job. I don’t need the stress of her sales getting in the way of her treatment. I am sure there are other items that would better serve your interests, Antonio.”
“Perhaps.”
I sat and watched the two men discuss me as if I wasn’t even there. One man wanted my services and the other man was trying to prevent him from obtaining them? Why?
“Nicola, would you like to dance?” Andris asked as he tilted his head over to where a group of people were in a corner of the bar dancing. I lifted my glass, downing the remainder of my drink and eyeballing the full one in front of me that Antonio had purchased.
“That would be nice, thank you,” I said extending my hand to him. Before we could walk away, I turned back around to Antonio and gestured to the still full drink sitting on the bar.
“Thank you Mr. Cardinelli, for the drink...”
And then I winked at him and walked towards the dance floor with Andris.
FIRE. HEAT. SEARING ANGER surged through me when I saw Antonio Cardinelli sitting at the bar with Nicola. The disgustingly sleazy way he fingered the strand of her hair before touching the delicate skin on her back made me want to punch him. I vaguely heard the words my beloved aunt was speaking to me as she gestured to where Nicola sat. Something about being beautiful, and single and that I should go introduce myself.
I knew she would be at the retirement party tonight. My uncle had told me that he was going to send several invitations to some of our patients that didn’t require a strait jacket in order to be seen in public. The fact that my uncle could so easily mingle with the family that was responsible for using my clinic to obtain drugs legally, yet sell them illegally, pissed me off so badly I couldn’t see straight. Combine that with the fact that Cardinelli had his greasy, corrupt hands on Nicola and my blood pressure was now through the roof. I had never even addressed my aunt who was going on and on about how beautiful Nicola was. No. The only thing I cared about was getting to her, and getting Antonio’s hands off of her.
I led Nicola over to the dance floor, proud that the drink Cardinelli had bought for her sat untouched on the bar while she left his company to join mine. I placed my hand at the small of her back as she brought her arms up to wrap around my neck as our hips began to sway to the music.
The curvatures of her delectable body molded perfectly into mine and I could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. The beautiful teal dress she wore was thin, and as my hands caressed the fabric, I imagined ripping it from her body.
I had always been a very career driven individual. Thanks to my father, succeeding in life and becoming someone of importance was always one of my top priorities; but not only that, I wanted to make a difference in someone’s life. I wanted to give them a sense of power over their disabilities and diagnoses, so that they could live as normal of lives as possible. I hated living everyday desiring success, but I was more focused on not failing.
It was also a way for me to mask my own insecurities.
Sex was something I used to break away from all the horrible things I had to see every day. It was also my escape from my own, undiagnosed condition. Something I hid from everyone, and was the biggest reason I had the arrangement that I did.
The soft scent of honeysuckle filled my senses as if dragging my brain into a lust-filled fog. Reaching up, I grabbed one of her delicate hands and held it to my chest in-between our bodies to keep me from reaching for places on her body that would be wildly inappropri
ate in public.
“I take it you don’t like that guy,” she spoke, her breath blowing across my neck and ear. Suppressing a shiver and the need to pull her closer to me, I replied.
“Like would be a tame word. That man is dangerous, and I would suggest you stay away from him.”
My words sounded more like a command than a request and it had her pulling back from me slightly, cold replacing the warmth that her body had created in me.
“I deal with men like him every day. I’m used to the cheesy come-ons and sexual innuendos, Dr. Gunn. I can handle myself.”
I blew out a breath of frustration.
“I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t. I was just stating a fact about Antonio Cardinelli.”
“I know who he is.”
This time it was my turn to pull back. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Half of New York City knew who Antonio Cardinelli was, especially those in the wrong crowds. I watched over Nicola’s shoulder as Mrs. Cardinelli joined her husband at the bar, picking up the drink that Nicola had left and downing it without a single thought. She then glanced in our direction and when she saw me with Nicola, her eyes held hardness. The cold, icy stare told me that she didn’t like the fact I was dancing with her.
“So, Monday you become owner of the clinic?”
Her voice broke through as I turned my eyes away from Mrs. Cardinelli.
“Yes.”
I felt her fingers begin to play with the hair at my nape. I closed my eyes, amazed at how much I could enjoy her touch without my anxiety kicking in. I enjoyed the soothing feel of her fingers as they gently brushed against the flesh of my neck. I had to fight everything inside of me to keep my dick at bay. What was it about this woman that had all my normal insecurities, all my anxiety, completely disheveled and allowed me to feel normal for once?
