Privileged

by Carrie Aarons

  For all of the scheming and naughtiness I've been indulging in, there is a small part of my conscience that kicks me in the bollocks and whispers in my ear. In the only light part of my soul still left, in the innocent, untainted corner, I could actually fancy Nora. In a real, genuine way. Sometimes, when we're alone, I don't have to pretend to be nice. It just comes naturally with her, and our banter flows and the way I'm attracted to her just feels ... normal.

  But then the dark side bites back. I'm not fucking normal, and neither is she.

  "Where do you want to go?" My nose is buried in her hair as I say it, my lips making contact with the sensitive part of her ear before she can answer.

  She's warm and pliable in her knackered state, and even though I've had the equivalent of one beer, I'm not a good enough chap to stop.

  “Take me somewhere.” Her sigh is all I need to pull her toward the door of the balcony.

  Up, up, up we go, through stairwells and hallways, all the while pausing to make out in dark corners until one of us breaks it off in search of privacy. There is something addicting about Nora; the way her hair smells, the way her tongue dances with mine. I’m no stranger to a fit girl, but her innocence and will to learn from my body is exciting and arousing.

  When I can no longer hear the chatter of the party below, I push open a heavy oak door and lock us in as it closes. It’s some kind of sitting room, it must be used as a dressing room sometimes but tonight it’s not occupied.

  “Are you going to let me under that dress, pretty girl?” I walk her backwards until her back meets the white wall.

  So far, it had just been a lot of hot and heavy snogging. Each time I tried to loosen a button on that private school uniform, she clammed up like a Scotland Yard-grade lock that I didn’t have the combination to.

  Nora giggles, but her eyes are molten. “I don’t know …”

  I don’t give her time to overthink it, but instead cover my mouth with hers. Slow and intoxicating, I set the pace. She may be drunk, but I’m in no rush. There is nothing else worth doing tonight, and I could spend the next four hours in here with her.

  My hands grip her slim waist and move upward, my callouses catching on the smooth fabric of her dress. I can practically hear Nora purr as the tips of my fingers brush the sides of her breasts and move forward. Nothing is hindering my palms but the top of her dress, and even with it on I can feel the tightness of her nipples.

  “Wait, Asher …”

  Bloody hell. I sigh, dropping my head on her shoulder because she is going to stop me from doing anything but getting very blue balls. Again. Managing to hide my annoyance and disappointment, I looked up into her eyes.

  “I don’t feel so well.”

  All of the desire and heat had vanished from her face, and left her skin pale and cold. Nora put her hands to her mouth and covered a gagging sound. Fuck all, she was sick, not prude.

  And another boner bites the dust.

  “Okay, let’s sit down.” An idea sprang into my head, one that would embarrass both she and her wanker of a stepfather. “Actually, why don’t we go back downstairs, find your mother?”

  If I was lucky, she’d toss her cookies in front of the entire opera house.

  “Asher, Bennett is in an election season. If anyone sees me like this … oh, God.” She moans as she ducks her head between her legs again.

  Oh I know it is, which is exactly why I’m here, interested in you.

  “Don’t worry, love. I’ll take care of you.”

  I try to lift her, but her skin is cold and clammy, and she’s falling about like a limp shoelace. I wasn’t lying when I said she was legless before. The illness must have just overcome her, like it often can when drinking. I need to try to get her downstairs.

  “I don’t feel good.” Her voice breaks on a cry, and a pang of guilt hits me.

  “You’re going to feel a bit wonky, love. Let’s try to lie down.”

  Tonight isn’t the night to do this. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. After ten minutes of going on about it, Nora falls asleep, her thin, tall body curled up in a big arm chair in the corner of the room.

  After she’s zonked out, I can’t convince myself to stay. It’s bad enough I took pity on her at all, and I curse myself for that streak of softness inside me.

  I slip out of the room and down the stairs, annoyed at how the night ended after so much promise.

  “Asher.” A sultry voice hits me as I round the corner.

  Standing on the other side of the stairs in a heart-stopping black gown is Evelyn Stuttgart, the German heiress who has always been a trusted friend in times of need. Last year, we’d had a standing agreement to shag whenever it was convenient for each other. I don’t know why it had waned, but sometimes we still saw each other at events.

  And like tonight, I thought it might be brilliant to bring that agreement back.

  “Evelyn, looking fit as always. How is Munich?”

  She shrugs, her long black curls moving around her breasts as she stares at me, only one thing in those light blue eyes. She wanted to shag too, and after the annoyance with Nora, I was becoming very keen on the idea.

  “Same old, you know I can never stay in one place for too long. Although I do miss our weekends in Monaco.” The memories of our time spent on her father’s yacht is some of my favorite wanking material.

  “What brings you up here?”

  “Nothing interesting on the ground floor. Although … there could be something very interesting here.”

  Evelyn had never been the type to be vague or tentative. She crossed the space between us, her hands falling to my shoulders once she was in front of me. Her mouth came at mine, skilled but predictably practiced in its initial assault on my own.

  And I let her. Ticked off at the predicament I was in, and wanting to do something reckless, it was as if the universe had sent Evelyn here to both tempt and seduce me.

  She smelled like exotic flowers and expensive penthouses, and was womanly in a way that Nora was not. Evelyn was probably the fantasy girl of half the men in this place. And yet when she moved her lips down my neck, sucking and biting in the exact spots that would have had me stiff as a pole a year ago, nothing happens.

  My knob is soft, a useless piece of anatomy in my trousers. Bloody hell, I can’t stop thinking about a pair of blushing cheeks and hands that push mine away when I’m about to undress her.

  Without words, I push her away from me and start down the stairs.

  “What the hell, Asher?” I hear her raspy voice from behind me.

  I don’t bother answering. I’m too ashamed to, or too annoyed to.

  Either way, my blood is boiling at the fact that I can’t seem to get Nora, the girl I’m supposed to be toying with, out of my head.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Nora

  Two days after the dreadful opera night, and my head and pride still felt like they’d taken a beating.

  God, there were so many things to be embarrassed for. One, I’d never gotten so drunk in my life. In fact, before that night I had never truly been drunk.

  I hadn't even properly gotten to see Vienna. Mom and Bennett had taken me on a short sightseeing tour the day after and I'd almost thrown up in the Schoenbrunn Tiergarten. By the time we visited St. Stephen's Cathedral, I had a migraine the size of Texas and Mom could see that I was struggling.

  Instead of admitting all of the stupid things I'd done the night before, I lied and said it was an episode. It was the first time I'd ever lied so badly to my mother that a little piece of my soul broke off.

  For the first time since my life had turned into a fairy tale, I seriously doubted my ability to handle this world of grandeur and power.

  The flight back to London is miserable and rainy, with the November chill sending ice through my bones. Kensington Palace looked dreary as the black town car containing myself, Mom and Bennett pulled up to its gates.

  What should have been an adventurous mini-vacation, with sights
eeing and some time spent with Asher, had gone down hill so quickly because of my stupid actions. I could have embarrassed myself, I could have given the tabloids more fodder. Worse, I could have ruined the event for Mom and Bennett, at a time so crucial for them that it might destroy everything they’d been working for.

  But what I did find about the trip, or more what I didn’t notice … was the paparazzi. For the first time since we’d hopped the pond, I hadn’t really been concerned with their shouts or accusations. I noticed myself moving into the buildings we were attending events at, letting their barbs slide off my skin as if it was slicked with oil. Was this what it was like to become fully immersed in the world of the elite? Was I becoming one of them?

  And Asher. Oh God, I’d nearly thrown myself at him. If I hadn’t gotten sick, would I have let him take me further than I’d ever been before? It sure had seemed like it, even though my brain was foggy with memory from our alone time upstairs.

  Nora: Hey, you. Maybe we could meet up today?

  I look at the text I sent to Asher over three hours ago, and flop back down onto my bed. After overcoming my anxiety and migraine episode, I was bored and on a Saturday, all I wanted to do was hang out with Asher. It was weird how much my life had changed in the span of six months; From spending no time with anyone to living in a palace and having a love interest.

  But he hadn’t answered. In fact, he hadn’t reached out or responded in the two days since we’d been back from Vienna.

  Had something else happened that I’d forgotten about? I remember drinking too much and throwing myself at him, us going upstairs to be alone. Asher hadn’t seemed like he’d been upset about anything, in fact I think he was uh … pretty excited to be alone with a horny me.

  Nora: Hey, is everything okay?

  It’s lame and makes me burn a little with desperation, but I’ve never had this sinking pit in my stomach. Before it was easy, having no one to answer to because I wouldn’t allow anyone close enough to make me feel this way.

  But I find that I hate it. Not knowing, wishing he would answer me. Running scenario after scenario in my head about what I could have done wrong and if he was ever going to want to talk to me again.

  Jeez, I was pathetic.

  Maybe … I took my phone out again from where I’d hidden it between my pillows and brought up a new text message.

  Nora: Hey, would you want to do something today?

  I waited only moments before my phone buzzed with a response.

  Eloise: Sure, everyone else seems to be out of town for that horse race in Athens.

  I hadn’t known about that event, nor had Asher told me he was going. Obviously, I couldn’t ask Eloise about it without looking a certain way, and we weren’t close enough yet for me to go to her for that kind of advice. But if he was there, and hadn’t even asked if I was going, what could that mean?

  Nora: What should we do?

  Eloise: Well, I could really use a facial and a mimosa after how pissed I got in Vienna, let’s go to my girl.

  I didn’t know what she meant by her girl, but I wasn’t about to suggest something like eat lunch in the park for fear of her telling me it was so beneath us. Even though I rather enjoy sitting by the pond in Hyde Park watching the ducks …

  Nora: Sounds great, I’ll meet you there in half an hour.

  After Eloise gave me the address and I freshened up a bit, the palace chauffeur took me over to the spa we’d agreed to meet at. And ten minutes after that, I was sitting in a chair next to Eloise in a white fluffy robe while tiny fish ate the dead skin off of my feet.

  “This feels so … weird. But oddly relaxing.” I laughed as one of the fish nibbled my instep and tickled me.

  “Stick with me, my little American, and you’ll be a princess yet. I’ll buff all of that chav out of you. After this we’re getting facials, and then mud baths, and we’ll finish off with a good blow out.”

  The lineup sounded a little more intimidating to me than relaxing, but I trusted Eloise as I watched her down her second mimosa. I had stuck with tea, not wanting anything clouding my judgment after the trip. Looking around at the gleaming white tile floors and white walls, trickling water pouring out of a large fountain covering one wall, I retracted my earlier statement about finally fitting in. Nothing about this spa day felt familiar or par for the course to me; in fact I felt like I was having an out of body experience. There was still some of that Pennsylvania girl left in me.

  “So you stayed in Vienna a couple days after me?” I was fishing but if I was nonchalant enough about it, maybe she wouldn’t notice.

  Eloise nodded, her blond hair wrapped high in a knot on her head. “I was a third bloody wheel to the Katherine and Drake drama. Whoever thought it would be a good idea for those two to shag should pour hot wax in their mouth.”

  I snorted. “That’s a bit extreme.”

  “It’s true though, they’re both so unpredictable and insecure, it’s like watching a wonky powder keg about to explode.”

  At first, I’m a little shocked she’s talking about her friend that way, but then I remember that everyone in this world are just allies, not friends.

  “What about you? Have you dated anyone at Winston?” Girl talk feels strange leaving my lips.

  “Psh, absolutely not. High school boys are lame, and all of the ones at Winston are bloody spoiled. I like my men with a little street in them, don’t forget where I came from now.” She winks at me.

  Sometimes I do forget we’re cut from the same cloth. “So only bad boys then, huh?”

  She smiles a devilish grin. “I suppose yes, but then we both know what that’s like.”

  My stomach drops a little. “What do you mean?”

  Eloise chuckles as the attendants move us to a different room and offer us more drinks. “Darling, Asher Frederick is just about the only boy I would date at Winston, if he wasn’t such an arsehole. He’s as bad boy as they come for the upper crust crowd, you must know that.”

  I suppose I did, but I didn’t like where the conversation was going. “I guess so, but he’s not that way with me.”

  “He’s not that way with you, now.”

  Her words hit something inside of me, and of course she’s right. How easily I forget what he said and did before I’d softened up to him.

  “Listen, I like Asher, he’s the closest thing to a friend I have in this buggered world. But you need to be careful.”

  This seemed like more than an unneeded warning, and my skin began to prickle with awareness and dread. “Why is that?”

  Eloise studied me before answering. “Listen, I don’t know all of the details, but Asher’s life has been pretty bloody awful. Sure, he’s got money, but his family is … harsh, to put it mildly. He’s got some demons, and I’ve seen him be more calculating and cold than any other person I know. So just, be careful. I like you, new girl. I don’t want to see you crash and burn.”

  As the facial person, or esthetician as Eloise corrected me, walked in, my phone buzzed.

  Asher: Hey, sorry my phone died. Want to go to the Alps next weekend?

  After Eloise’s warnings, and two whole days of not hearing from him, I was weary.

  But my first inclination was still to say yes.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Asher

  Get your bloody head in the game, Asher.

  That's what my father would say if he knew the kind of doubts and guilt I was having. In all honesty, I had no idea what was happening to me. I didn't second guess, I didn't feel bad. Those emotions and actions were for weak people, and the one thing I had been modeled not to do was be that.

  Dreadfulness gnaws at my stomach as I watch Ed bully someone on the video game he’s playing.

  “You bloody wanker, I’ll gut you!” He fires some kind of automatic weapon at his opponent’s body.

  “Do you have to yell?” I roll my eyes and go back to my phone, staring at the text messages Nora has sent over the past two days.

  I hav
en’t answered, and although I’ve been tempted, something changed for me that night in Vienna. Maybe it was because I’d taken care of her, instead of letting her embarrass herself. Or maybe it was because I was thinking about what might have happened if she hadn’t gotten sick. The way her eyes had held so much heat and promise. Or maybe it was because of Evelyn and me pushing her away.

  Probably a combination of the three, and other underlying feelings. I’d gone through my life an arrogant git, and now at the most critical time my conscience had raised its ugly head.

  “Well mate, what do you want to do instead?” Ed throws down the controller, spreading himself over the big leather couch in the only room in my house with a TV.

  “I don’t know.” I practically growl.

  “What’s got your knickers in a twist? You’re as cuddly as a cactus today. Not that you’re much better any other day of the week.” He gives me a smarmy grin.

  “If you’re going to be a tosser, you can get out.” I sulk on the big velvet glider next to the couch.

  “Or I could just guess what’s wrong. Hm, let’s see … it started about the time you took little miss princess upstairs at the opera, and came down looking like someone pissed on your toast.” He taps his finger to his chin. “And now you are opting to hang out with me instead of being with her, which seems to be the only thing you do these days. Wait a minute! Did she break up with you? Did Nora Randolph break up with you?”

  Ed is way too giddy in his supposed revelation, and it makes fury and bile crawl up my throat. “We’re not even dating, you git. You know I’m not a big enough wanker to get feelings for some bird.”

  He laughs, his head tilting back like I’ve just told the world’s funniest joke. “Come off it, mate. You like her, and you spend all of your time with only one girl. You’re practically married.”