Tiger's Obsession (Tiger's Obsession,#1)

by TorreS, Pet

  Minutes after, I walk half lost through the house and detain myself again in the living room with Tiger carpet.

  I see Larsson sat on one of the ivory sofas; he is listening to a soft melody that comes from a stereo corner of the living room, as he sustains a crystal glass with red wine in his hand. His thoughts seem far away, as he stares at the floor.

  But the sound of my light footsteps attracts his gaze to me. So I try to balance my body on my feet while I'm in a fluffy white bathing gown.

  My eyes reach the ivory floor, as soon as I realize that I'm with my flushed cheeks.

  My hair is still humid, loose and tousled. But that does not bother me.

  What bothers me is that I'm in the living room of a semi-stranger. I am in no panties in front of a man who is highly intelligent and smart to realize that there is a woman snuggled up in a bathing gown and nothing else, I say 'and nothing else'.

  I think, what a lack it does a panties!

  Larsson raises his crystal glass with wine in my direction. "Accompany me?"

  I blush at his proposal. In fact I do not know what their intentions are, after all he is offering alcoholic beverages to a woman in inappropriate attire, I would say almost without clothes.

  "Oh, No, thank you." I thank you as I am shaking my head. “In fact, I do not drink alcoholic beverages."

  He raises his eyebrows at me, lowers his crystal glass with wine and makes a disappointment face, however, he does not insist that I drink with him and that's a good sign.

  I walk clumsily and sit on a couch facing him. I extend my arms between my legs, as if I'm protecting my intimate part from some foreign gaze or the own gaze of the mansion host.

  I bend my face to my left side and try to explain him. "I'm sleepy."

  His green eyes are fixed on my face.

  "I do not see this." He affirms. "Your eyes are very expressive."

  I look down at the tiger carpet on the floor and try not to collaborate with his exact affirmative.

  "Sorry." He tries to be cordial.

  I look up at the white ceiling of the living room, and also at objects of great value around us. "You have a very lovely home!"

  He agrees with me, giving me a discreet smile and probably I am not the first person who admires his mansion or the last.

  "What do you make money?" I ask, looking at him.

  He slope his back against the couch and puts his glass of wine foot in his own right thigh.

  "I work in the business of fun." he responds, staring at me.

  I shrug my shoulders and wrinkle my forehead at him, trying silently to prophecy what kind of fun.

  “Are you the owner of an amusement park?"

  He smiles at me as if I have just told a joke with little grace and shakes his head negatively at me.

  "No, no." His gaze reaches an oil painting on the clear wall behind me. "I own nightclubs."

  "Oh! Do you say nightclubs?" I question fascinated.

  "Oh, that's just it." He raises his crystal glass to his lips and drinks the rest of his wine. "Do you know how to dance?"

  He looks back at me.

  "I do know very little, difficultly I attend nightclubs."

  He raises his eyebrows, looks surprised at my confession. "What do you do to have fun?"

  I shrug my shoulders and squeeze my lips, trying not to look as antiquated. "I read books, watch good films, and listen to music ..."

  "That's not fun." He says frankly. "Not in my conception."

  I come back to turn red, as I think that his fun methods include women.

  He puts his glass of wine aside, on the living room floor. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

  I scratch my nape before answering him. "No I don't."

  "I imagined." He smiles at me, trying to break up the tense atmosphere in my countenance. “Dating is one fun."

  "Do you see 'dating' as a diversion?" I question disappointed.

  "Did I say something wrong?" He seems suavely ironic.

  "No, I just think that 'dating' is an engagement and not a 'diversion'."

  He shakes his head and laughs at the floor. Then he stares at me again and he gets completely serious. "It can be both, ' engagement' and 'diversion', do not you agree with me?"

  I prefer not to answer him and he takes advantage of my silence. "Now I can see that you are a very romantic person."

  I found a defect in his tone when he said 'very romantic’. This seems to be a grave defect for him.

  I swallow my spittle and stare at him seriously. "I am."

  He beats superficially his hands on his own thighs. "It must be the why you are still alone." he smiles at me. “You must be waiting for some Prince Charming."

  "I did not like the joke."

  "Sorry, I did not mean to offend you. I just said this in jest."

  "It looks like you're mocking me as if I am a girl who still believes in Santa Claus."

  He puts his forefinger between his lips and gazes at my white bathing gown. "Where is your family?"

  Larsson quickly changes the subject and he comes back to face me seriously.

  I hold my own fingers and look down at my lap while I answer him. "I have no family, my parents are deceased and my uncle gave me to a moneylender in payment of his debt."

  Larsson opens his eyes wide at me. "Is that really true? Ware you current money through a debt?"

  I raise my head and Larsson can see the tears pointing in my honey color eyes. "Not even I can believe it."

  "That seems movie stories!" He comments almost laughing. "Preferably one movie of drama."

  He rises from the sofa. "But do not worry! You are now at my responsibility."

  My eyes shine with hope; I shake my head as if I'm waking up from a dream.

  "Well, that's better you go to rest, before your sleep escape through this window." he points toward an open window.

  I smile at him like a child who just ends up wining a candy or a special toy.

  "Thank you." I thank him, at the moment I get up too.

  "Olinda!" Larsson exclaims and his maid comes before us.

  "Yes, Sir Larsson."

  "Take Emily to a bedroom, she wants to rest now."

  The maid looks at me. "Follow me Emily."

  Olinda walks in front and I'm behind her, but before I look back at the living room and see Larsson with his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. He stands watching us going up the stairs in the living room.

  "Good night!" I dare to say him in a low voice.

  "Have good dreams." His voice comes as a silk in my ears.

  I smile discretely at him and look forward at Mrs. Olinda who remains erect in her posture of excellent servant.

  Chapter 4

  I look up at the ceiling when Olinda closes the bedroom door from the outside of it. Now I'm completely alone in that majestically room.

  The walls are clear. There is a double bed with bedding in white shade. Both sides of the bed have two white lampshades, one on each side.

  On the head of the bed has some objects and I see a sculpture of a tiger in china on it.

  I walk up to the glass wall next to the bed and I can see through it the house garden.

  However, with so much natural wonder before my eyes, I'd rather pull the white curtains and unite them to hide the room. Then I walk toward the bed and sit on it. My hands glide across the bedspread, and I feel the softness of its texture. I smile in silence, my God, I'm in heaven.

  I slowly lay my head on a giant pillow. I close my eyes, wishing that the other day can be room wonderful as this White room which brought me back a peace.

  ****

  I hear someone knocking softly on the bedroom door. Then I look at the curtains flourishing by sunlight and realize that this is another day. I throw the sheet aside and get out of bed. But my hair is tousled and I'm still in a white bathing gown.

  I open the room white door and see Mrs. Olinda before me; she raises several white paper bags. "Mr. Larsson asked me to buy these clo
thes for you."

  "For me?" I question in surprise. “There was no need of this..."

  "Of course you needed clothes; it is not suitable you remain in a bathing gown and in no panties." She says rigorous and hands me a lot of bags.

  I blush and despair at her affirmative. "My God! I forgot my panties and my nightgown in the bathroom!"

  "Do not worry about it, I already took your garments and threw them in the trashcan." She turns her back to me. "Now get dressed adequately, Mr. Larsson awaits you in the dining room for breakfast."

  "Tell him I'll not be late."

  I close the door and walk with the bags to bed. I do not have any time to look at all the clothes in the bags, and I try to be practical and not make Larsson TIGER wait for me for a long time for breakfast.

  ***

  I go downstairs and I see Larsson standing from a distance, looking at his garden through a glass wall, he is wearing a black undershirt, dark jersey trousers and dark rubber slippers.

  His gold necklace with tiger pendant shines intensely on his dark undershirt. He passes his hands over his hair and looks at me, as I am coming to him.

  "Did you have good dreams?" His eyes go through my body covered by a cotton dress in ivory hue.

  "In fact, I do not recall myself if I've been dreaming last night." My hands become straight the bun on top of my head.

  "Have you liked the clothes Olinda chose for you?"

  "I have not had much time to check them all, but all I saw made me pleased."

  "I thought of taking you personally to choose your clothes, but as you was only in a bathing gown ..."

  He gets silent and I take my hands over my nose when I think he knows that I was wearing no underwear last night.

  "Come, let us take our breakfast."

  He says and walks in front and I follow him in my silence.

  We sat at a huge glass table with ten chairs in black shades around it. The dining room is white, with a huge chandelier in antique gold hanging down from the ceiling. On one wall, there is an oil painting of a tiger image. On another wall aside has a white Persian blinds, an extensive a workbench with three black ceramic vases.

  I get lost looking at the variety of food on the dining table. Green grapes, papaya cut in half, jams, toast, sandwich loaf, coffee, milk and orange juice.

  "Eat all you want." He says filling his cup up with milk and black coffee.

  "I love coffee!" I exclaim fascinated, looking like a princess in her gold castle.

  Larsson smiles with his closed lips and fills my cup up with coffee.

  "Where is your family?" I ask him, tasting my coffee.

  He passes fruit-jelly onto his toast and looks at me with dismay, not seeming to want to talk about it.

  "They died in a car accident when I was ten."

  "Oh, I am sorry!" I drink my coffee again and suffocate my disappointment at it.

  "You're not going to eat anything?" He bites his toast with fruit-jelly.

  "May I get a fruit?"

  "Of course, you may. I said you, eat all you want." He recommends me and eliminates his last piece of toast.

  My hand touches a bunch of green grapes, pick up a grape and put it into my mouth, however Larsson observes the way how I suck the grape.

  Chapter 5

  Lights become blue, pink, violet, red and white and dance from one side to the other, in a nightclub.

  The large space is crowded with young people.

  A noisy music stirs people on the dance floor.

  Larsson holds strongly my hand and pulls me with him to a table at the end of the club. We sat at it and he does signal to a waiter with his fingers.

  "What will you want to drink?" He questions me and pulls a cigarette from his pocket, catches it between his lips and lights it with a black lighter with a drawing of a tiger.

  The smoke comes in front of his face and hides part of his green eyes.

  "Water."

  He swallows his cigarette and looses the smoke through his nose.

  "Have we come to this nightclub for you to drink water?"

  I stare at him and try to say something, however he says first.

  "I'm kidding." The waiter approaches the table in his dark clothes, puts his arms behind his backside and Larsson makes requests to the waiter. "Water and a shot of whiskey and red bull."

  The waiter walks away from our table and less than two minutes he returns with the drinks on a steel tray. The young waiter puts the drinks on the table and leaves us at ease.

  Larsson holds his shot of whiskey and red bull {0 and swallow it up at once.

  "Do you always come here?" I question him and take my water soon after.

  "No, I don't, it's the first time I come in that nightclub." He looks away and swallows back his cigarette.

  "I thought you were the owner of this nightclub." I gyrate the straw in my glass of water.

  He looks at my face and smiles with a spice of malice at me.

  "My nightclub is totally different from this here!" He exclaims looking all around him.

  However, I remain contemplating him.

  "In my nightclub has fun too much!"

  I support my elbows on the table. "And why haven't we gone there?"

  He squeezes his cigarette butt against a steel ashtray and looks into my honey eyes.

  "One day I'll take you there."

  Our eyes are still captured each other and a tune from Florence and the machine band, called 'no light no light' starts playing.

  Larsson moves his chair back with the strength of his body and he gets up quickly, holds on my arm and pulls me from my chair. "Let's dance to this song."

  I twitch my body nervously and blush with shame. "I do not know how to dance right."

  "Do not be afraid, I'll lead you."

  He says so we stop among some people dancing on the dance floor. The melody is a little agitating and it makes it easier my inhibition.

  His hands hold my waist, and I rest my hands on his shoulders. His body moves with nimbleness, and I can see the definitions of his chest and his abdomen while he is dressed in black jeans, black shoes and black male overcoat. As usual, he is without an undershirt, I think that's his style fashion.

  His gold necklace with tiger pendant shines against my face. The play of light changes the color of his eyes, they become green, blue, violet and red, and this confuses me. However, he moves still with his hands on my waist and his green eyes in my honey eyes.

  I feel that my hips move as according to rigid movements of his hands holding tightly my silhouette.

  The skirt of my doll style dress, in white and printed with blue butterflies, agitates too.

  We crouch and twist almost to the ground.

  He smiles at my face and his lips come close to my left ear. "You move well!"

  At that moment my legs become weak when I lose my coordination at his words at my ear's foot. I also feel my body shiver with his breath against the skin of my neck.

  I look up at the ceiling and see the globes of lights turning over our heads, lights flashing on and off, darkness, all this leaves me stunned.

  "I'm getting dizzy."

  I mutter putting my hand on my forehead and take a step back, going almost to the floor, and I feel like I'm being lifted back up when Larsson crosses his right arm behind my waist and pulls me against his chest almost naked and wet with his sweat.

  My loose hair comes in front of my face and Larsson remove a few strands of hair behind my shoulder. Our eyes embrace for some instant.

  Green against honey.

  The approach of his face makes shadow on mine and our eyes confound again.

  My lips are half-open and eager waiting for a physical contact. His lips get stuck in my lisp’s direction and he thinks a few more seconds before trying to kiss me.

  The melody from the Florence and the machine band ends and it also ends my hopes of being kissed by Larsson TIGER.

  "The song ended!"

  He reports ser
iously and removes his head back, definitely avoiding touching his lips to mine.

  My brow furrows before his coward attitude of not to kiss me at that moment. I feel his arm away from my body; he turns his back to me and walks quickly among people.

  "Come on!"

  His voice is rough before me, but I follow him with my defenseless footsteps.

  We got into his dark car and Larsson orders to his driver to move on. I seek to look at my window all the time. I realize that Larsson lights a cigarette and swallows it nervously.

  The smoke agglomerates below the roof of the car, all the car windows are locked. I start to cough discreetly among my fingers.

  Immediately, Larsson presses a button on his left side and the glass of his window comes down slowly. Agglomeration of smoke slowly disappears. Then I sigh with relief.

  However, Larsson remains still looking ahead, toward his driver while I still keep my eyes on the window to my right side.

  "Stop here!"

  Larsson tells his private driver and his car stops softly, after all the vehicle is circulating without too much hurry.

  Larsson opens the door and gets out and at this moment I stare at him as he crosses in front of his car and walks on a small square. There is a popcorn stand, painted in white and red.