by Robin Leaf
“Hey, now,” Not-Tom says, putting his hands up and taking a step back, “I just gave her what she asked for. I didn’t know it was her first one.” He turns around again, pulling a black bottle out of the refrigerator behind the bar. Grabbing another shot glass, he pours some pink liquid into it and pushes it toward me.
“This is some new girly shot they are trying to get us to push. The company wants feedback, so tell me how you like it.”
I lift and sniff again, and the shot smells like strawberries. After learning my lesson the first time, I sip it, and it tastes like a melted strawberry milkshake with only the faintest sting of alcohol.
I nod my approval to Mike-Not-Tom, so he pours me another and sets it next to the original. He turns to the man at my left. “We close in thirty minutes.” Turning his back, he puts the bottle back in the fridge, and walks away to continue cleaning up.
“Wow,” I croak, “you’d think he’d be nicer after trying to kill me.”
“Ah, give Mike a break,” he implores lowly. “The woman he’s loved for years is set to marry another man on Saturday.”
“Wow, that sucks.” I lift the remainder of the first pink shot and drink it down. “When he approached me, I got the distinct impression he was gonna try to hit on me.”
My new friend chuckles. “I have no doubt he was.” Shaking his head, he sighs. “Yeah, he’s not real suave at the flirting thing.”
I turn my eyes to his. “I guess you come here a lot?”
His eyes crinkle at the corners, probably trying to hide the shame I see lurking in the depths. “Yeah.” Holding out his hand to me, he winks. “I’m Sam, by the way.”
I shake his quickly. “Cristiana.”
He leans in and lowers his voice. “I’ve seen your videos.”
Chingado.
I hoped that I could just have a couple of drinks and go back to the room to get the few hours of sleep I should before our big day tomorrow. I didn’t expect to run into a… a… fan? It’s my first encounter alone, so I stare at him, wondering how to play this.
His smile widens. “Relax, hon. My twelve-year-old daughter is a huge Ignacio fan, so I had to watch all the videos before she did to make sure they were not going to jump start her into puberty.” Winking, he points at me, “You are a beautiful dancer.” He picks up his glass and casually sips what I assume is whiskey. “We actually have tickets to the show tomorrow. It was an early birthday present for the girl.”
For some reason, hearing this makes me relax. “Well, you’re the coolest dad ever. My dad would never let me go me to a concert, much less taken me to one. I wanted to see New Kids on the Block so fucking bad when I was ten.” I sip my second shot. “I was told no.”
Sam pats my arm. “And just think, now you’re part of a tour every female in the nation wants to see.”
Wow. I didn’t think of it that way. That’s so… overwhelming.
I might need another shot.
And I really need a distraction to keep myself from freaking the fuck out.
“So,” I begin shakily and clear my throat. “Why is the coolest dad ever in a hotel bar in the middle of the night?”
His smile falters for a brief second, and I get a strong guilt vibe coming off of him in waves.
“Please tell me you are not cheating on your wife, Sam,” I groan. “And I thought we could be friends.”
He downs his glass and indicates to Mike to bring us another round.
“You’re about ten years too late with that outrage, hon.” He waits while Mike pours us our final drinks and walks away before he continues. “We divorced after my wife found out about me…” he swallows and looks away, “because of my boss.”
“You had an affair with your boss?”
He shakes his head. “Not exactly.”
I raise my eyebrow.
“He fired me for fooling around with someone at the office. He said it was because of a morality clause in my contract with the firm about infidelity, but honestly, it was because he didn’t want anyone… like me… working for him.”
“Anyone… like you?”
He smiles nervously. “The other associate was a man.”
I feel my eyebrows hit my hairline.
“So, wait. You were living a lie with the wife –”
“My former boss is… very conservative, and a very high-profile public… official. If anyone were to find out that he had a gay man working for him, it would have…” he trails off. “Let’s just say it could have complicated a lot of things. And it wasn’t exactly a lie,” he defends. “I loved my wife, but yeah, I always knew I was attracted to men. I just hadn’t acted on it.”
“Dios mio, what is it about public officials lately? This is the second one I’ve heard about who is as crooked as a question mark.”
He drinks. “Wanna know the kicker?” When I nod, he adds quietly, “My former boss came on to me once.”
“Cállate la boca,” I whisper yell, smacking my hand on the bar. “No way.”
He nods. “Rubbed his hard dick on my ass and asked me to go out for drinks to discuss a ‘business’ proposal. And when I turned him down, I’m pretty sure he hired the other guy to seduce me just so he could fire me.”
“Now that’s just fucked up.” I drink half of my final shot, feeling it start to go to my head. “Couldn’t you have filed sexual harassment charges or something?”
“Nope. It would’ve looked like I was just a spurned former employee trying to get revenge.” He grins. “But you know what they say about revenge? Best served cold.”
I return his smile. “And I’m guessing you’re feeling like a cucumber right now?”
He laughs. “Yes, I do feel quite cool.” He turns to me. “It’s actually why I’m here in this bar in the middle of the night. I’ve been gathering dirt on my former boss. I meet informants here. I’m going to deliver the intel to his wife.” His smile is mischievous. “It’s about to get nasty.”
“His wife?” I say, a little too loudly. I look around to make sure Mike is minding his business before leaning in and lowering my voice. “Well, Sam, if it were me, I would leak it anonymously to the press. Nothing colder than taking down a public official with a sex scandal.” I drink the remainder of my last shot. “I really hope you stick it to the man.” Snorting, I add, “Wait, I bet he wished that, too, and that’s why you’re here.”
My drunken state finds my statement hilarious, both because Sam just admitted he’s gay and because his boss sounds like he is closeted, so I giggle uncontrollably.
“Cristiana,” a deep voice reprimands from behind me.
I quit giggling and lean toward Sam. “Shh, my prison guard is here.” I swivel on my barstool to find Joe snarling at me with his arms crossed over his ungodly large chest.
“Joe, can we get my man, Sam, here backstage passes for tomorrow night’s performance? I want him and his daughter to be my special guests.”
“Holy shit, if you do that, I really will be the coolest dad ever. And don’t worry, these drinks are on me.”
I smile at him and turn to Joe, throwing him my best puppy dog eyes and batting my eyelashes. “Please?”
Joe’s harsh façade cracks for a second. He comes off as this hard ass, but I know he’s just a giant cream puff. He’s a sucker for the eyelash thing. I could probably get more if I pouted.
Joe and Sam have a conversation I don’t care enough to pay attention to while I walk over to Mike.
“Sam told me about your girl, Mike-Not-Tom.” His eyes widen momentarily before he sends a dirty look Sam’s way. “Hey, don’t be angry at him. He distracted me from putting a curse on you,” I lie. “My curses are pretty deadly, so he technically saved your life.” I lean my elbows on the bar. “Tell that drink company those shots are pretty yummy.” Pushing off the bar to step back, I have to grab it so I don’t fall. “Oh yeah, and tell your girl about your feelings. If you don’t ever tell her, she’ll not know you were an option.”
He shakes his
head quickly. “I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell can’t you?”
“The groom is my father. He’s marrying my best friend’s mother.”
I sway, blinking slowly, taking a second to let that sink in. “Your best friend’s… mom? Dude, that’s just all kinds of yucky.”
“Okay, Missy,” Joe says, sweeping my feet out from under me. “Time to go.”
I’m whisked out of the bar before I can protest.
“I can walk, Joe.”
His eyes meet mine briefly before my request is ignored.
I sigh and cross my arms over my chi-chis.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I explain, trying to engage him again. “Figured a bit of alcohol would help.”
His eyes narrow. “You don’t drink.”
“I do… I did… once. Slept like a baby afterward, too.”
We make it to the elevator and he sets me down to push the button.
“Tell me, Joey Bear,” I say sweetly, “how did you even know I was gone?”
“Did a room sweep. You weren’t there. So I had the team search the hotel.”
The elevator arrives and we step on.
“Santa mierda, I didn’t realize I needed to tell the cavalry I wanted to go get a drink.” My bottom lip threatens to make itself known. “You made it clear there’s to be no alcohol in the room.”
“He’s in recovery.” Pointing his finger at me, he nods. “You should respect that.”
“I do, which is why I went to the bar.”
He looks away from me. “Yes. Without an escort.”
“Jesus Cristo, Joe.” I wave down my body. “I’m fine.”
“You got drunk and were talking to a stranger that could have had unsavory intentions toward you.”
“I’m tipsy, not drunk. And he didn’t have any intentions, unsavory or otherwise. We were just having a conversation.”
“He wouldn’t like it.”
“Yeah, well, Ignacio can bésame el culo if he thinks I’m not going to talk to anyone… ever.”
The doors to our floor open, and Joe picks me up again. Apparently, he thinks I’m a flight risk.
“Ignacio is not the person I answer to.”
My breath catches because, well, I hope I know who he means.
“If anything happened to you on my watch…” he puts me down outside the suite and opens the door. “… getting fired would be the least of my worries.”
He picks me up again and heads toward my bedroom of the suite. In one move, he rips back the covers and lays me down carefully.
“Just so you know, Crissy, I’m not here because of Ignacio. The record company provides personal security for tours.” He pulls the covers over me and pats my head awkwardly. “I was added after you were included on the tour. Boss Man insisted.” He smiles, a rarity for Joe, and turns to leave, but stops to add one more thing before shutting the door. “So do me a favor and make my job easier by not sneaking out in the middle of the night to have conversations with strange men in bars.”
Boss Man. He means Noah.
What am I supposed to do with that?
I know what my brain does. It takes me back to that night… the time he looked up at me from between my thighs, eyes clouded with lust and begging permission to break his stupid promise.
This time, I don’t question the what ifs of the situation. There’s no, “What if I had just tilted my hips forward?” “What if I pulled up my dress further?” “What if I threw my leg over his shoulder?” “What if I hadn’t consumed those drinks?” The words “what if” that start any number of combinations of questions for myself to make the outcome better. Nope.
Tonight, I just let my mind wander.
I find myself against that wall in that club, dress pulled up, Noah there, his hot breath bathing the juncture between my thighs. His tongue darts, just like it did, tasting, testing my reaction. This time, I moan and step wider, granting better access.
His hand slides up my thigh, running his finger along my slit, spreading my slippery wetness from my clit to my opening. His finger circles my clit lightly, driving me crazy.
“More,” I command.
“Like this?” he asks, adding more pressure.
“Yesss,” I hiss, moving my hips slightly to increase the friction.
He smiles up at me before moving his eyes back to watch what he’s doing.
I gasp as his finger enters me slowly, rubbing my inner walls until he finds what he’s looking for. “Ah, there it is,” he says, crooking his finger to hit the spot that makes my back arch off the wall.
I feel my orgasm building, and it’s gonna be a good one.
His finger moves, not hitting that spot anymore. “Don’t come yet, Cristiana,” he growls.
I hear his zipper opening, and I look down to see what is happening. He reaches inside his pants to rub along his shaft. The tip glistens, and I really want it on my tongue.
“God, Noah,” I cry out, “I want…”
“What do you want?” he asks, flexing his finger along that spot again, making my vision blur and my head swim.
“Everything,” I breathe, and I watch him lean forward to suck my clit into his mouth.
That image, combined with the two fingers in my pussy and the fingers of my other hand pinching my clit are enough to do me in. My orgasm surges through me like a freight train, and I ride it out, trying unsuccessfully to keep the moaning to a minimum.
I flop over to my side and feel the sleep claiming me. Hm. Here I was thinking I needed alcohol when all I really needed was a toe-curling orgasm to a fantasy with a man I can’t have.
Who knew?
Nineteen
Noah
I sit across from Jason, watching him organize the papers for my financial deal. He moved some investments around and opened new accounts, all which needed my signature.
He’s acting… weird. Refusing to look me in the eye for too long, obsessively stacking and restacking papers… something is up.
“Did you decide what to do about the clinic yet?” I ask, fishing for answers.
He looks up to me, seemingly startled by the question.
“No,” he shakes his head. “Not yet. They have asked me to submit to a medical evaluation to see if I qualify.” He sighs. “They’ve offered to come here next week. If I qualify, I’d leave in October. I just don’t know if I can leave. A lot of people count on me here. Moving to Switzerland for two years would mean they would… suffer.”
I believe he means his job, but I could be wrong.
“So you’re going to continue to suffer just so others won’t?”
He shakes his head and looks away. “There’s no guarantee that the treatment will work.”
“But there is a guarantee that you will get worse if you don’t have the treatment.”
“I feel fine on the new meds.”
“Yeah, so far. Each time they change them, you feel good, until –”
“I need you to help me find… someone,” he interrupts, turning toward his computer.
When he refuses to even look my direction, it sets off my inner alarm bells.
“You have a new job for me?” I asked, confused.
“No,” he states, clicking through something on his screen. “I need to find someone who would be willing to let me watch them have sex… with a woman.”
Not often am I caught off guard by anyone, but this… well, it’s a surprise. I sit back in the chair, evaluating his calm demeanor.
“You know you can watch porn for free on the internet now, right?”
“I know,” he says, still looking at his screen. “I need to watch this… in person.”
Hm. This is curious.
“Do you want me to bring you to the club?”
He turns quickly to me, a disgusted look on his face. “You know I can’t risk being seen there. Most of the people at that place know my father, and if they follow him closely, they’d recognize me as his son and could tell him I was there.”<
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“So, you want me to ask a couple to let you –”
“No. Not a couple.” He looks at me quickly. “I already have a woman who’s agreed. I just need a guy. Someone who’s… discreet.”
“What about the woman?”
“She’s a girl who just wants to be watched,” he tells me, swallowing. “One who doesn’t care who I am.”
“Okay, give me her name so I can run a background –”
“Not necessary,” he says, looking in my eyes, hoping I don’t push the issue.
“At least have her sign an NDA.”
His eyes narrow. “Already handled.”
This isn’t right. There is more to this than he’s saying, but he’s never lied to me before, so why would he start now?
My gut screams though… something is off.
Maybe because this is a potential nightmare, but I dare not tell him that. I don’t know what kind of woman he found who would agree to have sex with a random stranger while he watches. And if he does find a man willing, it opens up a whole new world of possibilities for disaster. Someone who knows who he is could use it against him or his father, and that will be bad for Jason and screw all my chances of taking that mother fucker down to hell.
I have created an impressive file of sexual allegations against Jack Heywood, including his financial records that say he paid for the club membership out of his campaign funds. The Admiral and I have talked about leaking it to the press, which would kick start the process to remove him from office. I don’t want to do it that way, but since I can’t get concrete evidence on the senator working with De La Torre, and because several more missions have failed in the past several months, the Admiral wants to move on it now.
And that means if Jason hires some rando that he can watch have sex with this ready and willing woman, this person would be handed an opportunity either to blackmail him for money or to sell the story to the press. I can’t add insult to injury by giving someone ammunition against him to pull him into his father’s nightmare.
I can tell he’s determined. If I don’t help him, he’ll find someone on his own.
If I think about it, it’s probable that the only person right for the job is me. I think of all the reasons I shouldn’t and can’t really come up with one, other than Cristiana. She is reportedly happy. She and Ignacio stay in the same hotel suites, share a room on the bus, and according to Joe, “are so cute together.” I hate that I handed her to him, that she’ll never be mine. Since making her mine is no longer a possibility, there is really nothing standing in the way.
