by C. C. Piper
He took my backside into his hands and guided me forward until I was close enough to the edge of the desk that I could rub against him.
He kissed my neck. He kissed down my chest, dipping one hand into my bodice to brush across my nipple. “I’m not going to tear your bodice. Even though I want to rip it off.” He groaned. “I need you naked. but you look so damn beautiful in this dress that I’m leaving it on. You look like every dream I’ve ever had.”
My eyes watered. This was something I didn’t know I’d ever wanted. And Richard was so much more than I’d let myself hope for when I met the Wish Maker.
If it didn’t last between us, I didn’t think I could fall for any other man. Not because of Richard’s money, but because of the way he looked at me. And the way he took care of me, when no one else ever had.
“What’s wrong?” Richard touched the corner of my eye. “Are you uncomfortable? Is the desk too hard?”
I couldn’t seem to get him to realize that I was far from fragile. A little discomfort was never going to faze me. But the fact that he wanted to protect me made me want to swoon.
“Just a little emotion. I’m fine.” I resisted sniffling and smiled instead. “You look very nice yourself.”
“Can I make love to you?” He pulled me to his chest and squeezed. “Chrissy, I need you.”
Make love. “Please.”
He pushed inside me. “Richard,” I moaned his name, not caring if anyone heard. He wasn’t dominating me. He was still in charge, but the dynamic was different. It felt more like a real relationship, one that could have begun in a chance meeting on a college campus.
He began to move inside me. “You feel so good. I never want to stop.”
“Then don’t.” I wanted to stay here all night, with him inside me.
I clutched at him, desperate and needy. I loved the dress, but at this point, it was a distant second to the passion I felt for Richard.
18
Richard
Where was Chrissy?
I panicked for a second, then had to remind myself that she was here with me at the mansion, in the same room with me at this godforsaken party. I’d been excited to host, but now, halfway into the party, I resented it, and all the people attending. I wanted to be alone with her.
After what we’d just shared, I needed to be alone with her. I had shown her with my body how I felt about her, how attached I was, how necessary she was to me.
Mentally I checked my calendar. I would clear my schedule to make sure we spent tomorrow evening alone together.
I’d never imagined I could let go of my need to dominate and just make love with a woman. Upstairs in my office, the dark, all-consuming drive to dominate wasn’t present. The impulse was still there; it was a part of me. But it wasn’t necessary, like it had been before. It felt more like something to be savored on a date night, instead of something I couldn’t live without.
Perhaps because Chrissy had accepted me for who I was. She genuinely seemed to care about me, and wanted to get to know me.
When I’d seen her, I wanted her. And when she’d confessed that she’d loved me, I had wanted to say it back. I hadn’t, not yet.
But I would.
Soon.
A delighted laugh sounded from across the room.
I turned to see Chrissy, glass in hand, smiling at one of my investors as the investor asked the dreaded ‘how did you meet Richard’ question.
Chrissy, who had struggled just to survive, stood in a couture ball gown, hair up, makeup perfectly done, shoulders back, poised as if she’d been making small talk with millionaires her entire life. “I’m a student at Cal State LA, and Richard was on campus for a fundraiser.”
Then predictably, the investor asked Chrissy about her major.
Chrissy cheerfully described her classes, going into detail about a prosecutor. The investor knew the prosecutor socially, and that launched them into another conversation.
The idea had been Chrissy’s. She refused to say we met in a bar, and we weren’t allowed to talk about the club.
It had been evident early on that Chrissy didn’t need any help with her manners. She knew how to hold herself, and how to make small talk.
As I’d realized earlier in the day, her behavior at this party didn’t matter to me. But the fact that she could handle this sort of social event with no training was a marvel. It had taken me years to pull it off, and I’d had non-stop guidance from both of my parents. I was so proud of her.
I groaned. I did not want to endure this party, even if she was nearby. I wanted her all to myself. I put my champagne down and went to her. “Would you like to dance? It’s a tradition for the man of the house to dance with the woman of the house.”
“I would love to.”
Jean had done an outstanding job with her hair and makeup, but even as I admired Chrissy’s refined, polished look, I missed her natural beauty I’d gotten to see this morning on the sailboat.
She held her hand out and I took it. I put my other hand on her back. The symphony was still playing classical music. It sounded like they were going with the more popular waltz songs, one composed by Johann Strauss. “I can show you how to waltz.”
“Oh, I know how.” She grinned. “I see you raising your eyebrows. We learned at the Boys and Girls Club. I went every day. I signed up for every free class. I learned the Waltz, the Viennese Waltz and the Tango.”
“Well. In that case.” Would she ever stop surprising me? I began the steps and she followed, in sync with me. We picked up speed and I began to add in the extra flourishes that beginners couldn’t do. As I expected, she performed each one as if she did them everyday.
The guests had stopped talking. The room went silent except for the orchestra; all eyes were on us. As the dance drew to an end, the guests begin to clap.
“They’re clapping like we’re royalty.”
“We were pretty good.”
While the guests had clapped for my parents who had been good dancers, they’d never commanded the attention of the crowd of guests quite like this.
As I held her close I could smell the expensive perfume I’d bought for her, and the scent of her coconut shampoo. And beneath that, I could smell my own cologne. I squeezed the bridge of my nose, just for a second, to center myself. I could not think about why she smelled like me while we were out on the dance floor. “Want to go again? What’s your preference?”
“Viennese Waltz.”
I took a second to tell one of the staff members to inform the orchestra to stay with the classical music.
“I hope I can keep up with you while we’re doing the turns. I’ll do my best to get this right. I usually only dance once, and then I’m done.”
“We’ll take it slower than it’s supposed to go,” she said with a smile. “There’s no one here to award us points. We’ll just pretend speed isn’t a factor.”
I exhaled. “You mentioned the Boys and Girls Club before. How did you come to be there? Was it after school care?” I wanted to hear more about her time there.
“When I was six, one of my counselors at school found out I was home alone all the time. They arranged for me to go there after school; they said it was a grant, but now I think they probably paid for it. I learned to swim there. I trained as a lifeguard too. And after I learned all the dances, I helped teach the younger students.”
We stepped back onto the floor, and began to turn. “I had no idea they offered a ballroom dancing program.”
“It’s not a mandated program like swimming lessons. One of the directors said the kids on the other side of town would be going to cotillon, so why shouldn’t we do the same thing?”
That had been me and Travis, dressing up for cotillion, a world away from Chrissy and her struggles.
I had been right. I was struggling to keep up. All the rotations required in this form of dance were a bit much, even going at a snail’s pace. My head was spinning, but Chrissy was unfazed. She continued her steps, her arm h
eld high and her shoulders back. Her posture was as regal as her dress.
“Tell me about it.” This program sounded like it had been an integral part of Chrissy’s life. I wanted to make sure the Boys and Girls Club had all the resources they needed to continue helping kids like her. If she was comfortable with it, we could brainstorm and decide how to best support it, whether it was through funding more programs like the ballroom dancing classes, or we if it would be better to create a scholarship fund.
“We didn’t usually dress up. For the final night, donors would bring in second hand dresses and we could choose one. They were always nice because they’d only been worn once. But they weren’t what I’d have chosen.”
Watching her, I had to admit, Chrissy’s pink gown was the perfect style for the turns required. “What would you have chosen?’
“This. This is the best gown I’ve ever seen.”
Finally, the song ended and a normal slow dance song came on. The guests clapped vigorously for us once again, several of them even cheering. Luckily at the sound of a more popular song, other couples began to file onto the dance floor. “I’m glad you like it.” I pulled her in close enough to speak into her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about earlier.”
Her skin went pink, all the way down to her chest.
“Your skin matches the dress.”
She poked me with her elbow. “Now you’re making it worse.”
She was in such a good mood. I was really treasuring our playful time together, but I had to address this, or I was going to lose my mind. “I need to speak to you about something important,” I said. “I should probably wait until we’re done here, but I’m impatient when it comes to you.”
“Okay,” she said, looking at me with her bright blue eyes. She hooked her arms around my neck and stared up at me.
“Whenever you’re ready, I’d like to end the trial.”
Confusion clouded her face, then disappointment. I must have misspoken. Surely she wouldn't be upset that I wanted to continue after everything we’d shared? Oh. I hadn’t been clear. “I meant that I would like to end the trial and proceed to the next part of the relationship. Where you move in with me. I know you need some time to think about it.”
I kept my hands at the small of her back even thought what I really wanted was to grab her and carry her back to my room. “Do you think you could be happy here?”
“I don’t need to think it over. I know the answer is yes.” Her forehead wrinkled as she studied me. “But what about my sister?”
I could have sagged with relief, but pulled myself together. If I hadn’t been in front of our guests, I would have. “Once she’s well enough to come home, we can make a room for her here, and she can live with us. All of her follow-up medical care will be covered.” I wanted to make sure there was no reason for Chrissy to say no.
“I don’t know. I can’t disrupt her life if it’s not going to be long term.”
“The contract is for one year, unless one of us breaks it. I can make it impossible for me to break it, if you’d like. That would give her stability, and you security, to know that she’ll be provided for. Even if something went wrong between us, which I don’t anticipate, the two of you would remain here for the full year. No matter what,” I said, hoping that would appeal to her. “And you’ll still receive the monthly allowance. At the end of the year, you’ll have $480,000 in cash, even if you’re sick of me.”
“That is so generous of you, Richard. I would love nothing more.” She leaned up to kiss me right on the lips. “I still need to protect her from our mother.”
“Whenever you’re ready, I’ll call one of my contacts. We’ll hire the best family lawyer that specializes in atypical adoptions, and we’ll start the process of getting your mother’s rights terminated.”
“You’d do that?”
“There’s not much I wouldn't do for you, Chrissy Evans.”
She blinked a few times then fanned herself with her hand. She opened her mouth a few times but didn’t say anything.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m trying not to cry.”
Was there something I was missing? Why was she upset? “Why do you need to cry?”
“Because I’m just so happy that I don’t know what to do.”
I hugged her close. That was an answer I could live with.
19
Chrissy
I broke my own rule and grabbed a glass of champagne from the bar. Richard was talking to a few of his investors. I’d already been introduced to them and made polite small talk, and the investors had wanted to delve a little more deeply into a discussion about strategies for breaking into a foreign market.
I excused myself, not wanting to stifle their conversation in case the investors wanted privacy. Plus I needed a minute to compose myself.
After Richard had asked me to move in, and told me of his plans to help me win custody of Bella, I was near tears. Richard’s money and influence would be welcome in the battle against my mother. I’d never had a family law attorney before, only the ad litem, and that was only for the most dire situations. The thought of having someone I could ask for advice was incredible.
And he’d asked me to stay.
Once he’d assured me Bella would have a home with us, everything in me wanted to be here with him.I wanted nothing more than to make him happy. He’d said there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for me. It might not be a declaration of love, but it was pretty darn close.
Every now and then, I glanced down at the pink tulle skirt of my dress. The dress gave the impression that I was floating across the floor, instead of walking. And I felt like I was floating. I’d never been able to relate to the expression, ‘on cloud nine,’ until tonight. I was unable to believe how lucky I was. My sister was getting the best care possible and we were going to get to live here in this palace. She would have everything she needed. Richard had made sure of that.
And I was in love.
I couldn't even say it was a dream come true, because I’d never dared to dream anything like this would be possible. As I drifted onto the patio to admire the reflection of the moon over the ocean, Carolyn approached me.
“You have another outfit available if you’d like to change. I know that dress is probably getting heavy.”
“It is. But it’s so pretty. I hate to take it off.”
She rubbed my arm. “You can wear it again anytime.” I thought I might like to wear it again, just for Richard, with no one else around.
“If you go up to your room, you’ll find a dress laid out for you. It might be a bit cooler for you after all that dancing.”
“Thanks. I’ll go now.” I didn’t really want to change, but I assumed Richard must want this. Having a say in what I wore obviously played a part in how he wanted me to submit to him.
“Would you like some help putting your hair up?”
“I’m going to leave it down. But thank you.” I was certain that putting my hair all the way up wasn’t one of Richard’s desires. He had made it clear several times that he liked my long hair down so he could touch it.
In my room I found a full-length black satin spaghetti strap dress with black strap heels. It showed off my figure, and was definitely a sexier dress than the pink ball gown. One I had it zipped up, I checked my reflection one more time. Satisfied, I stepped into the hallway, only to find a man standing right outside my door.
I was instantly alert. I glanced behind me. We were alone in the hallway.
The guy stood right in front of me. “Hey. You must be Chrissy. I’m Travis. Richard’s best friend.”
Travis was not what I’d expected. He was the reason we’d met, as well as being Richard’s closest friend, so I needed to be polite. “Oh, Travis, hello. It’s nice to meet you.”
“You are delightful. No wonder he likes you so much.” Travis loomed closer, and he lifted his hand, tracing his finger down my arm.
My stomach tightened. He leaned in, close enough to whis
per in my ear. “I know where he found you. Did he tell you that?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.” I tried to step back, but he wrapped his hand around my upper arm. Of course I knew what he meant. He meant the club. But I wasn’t going to be the one to say the words out loud.
“You know exactly what I mean. He paid a lot of money, he got to fuck you. He might have gotten that sweet cherry first, but I’m used to Richard’s leftovers. How much would it take for you to let me inside too?” He let his hand go lower and gripped my backside. He pulled me toward him.
“None, because I wouldn't do that. It’s not right.” My eyes stung. I didn’t want to cry. I was not sad. I was angry. I was furious. How dare this sorry excuse for a friend try to do this to me? To Richard? “Let go of me. I belong to Richard.” I put my hands up to push him away, but he was strong. He grabbed my wrists.
“Didn't take him long to train you well, did it? Well, I have news for you, what’s Richard’s is mine. We share everything. And I want you.”
“No.” Richard had specifically said he wouldn’t share me. Not that I’d have ever consented to that in the first place.
I couldn't let this happen. I had to get away. I tried to push past him with my elbows. He let go of my wrists and grabbed my shoulders. He shoved me backwards. I hit the wall with a thud. He pressed his body against mine. He tried to kiss me. I turned my head, avoiding his mouth.
Please no. No. No. No. I shouted the last no, but no one heard me.
He leaned back to laugh, and I took my chance. I punched him in the face, right in the nose. He doubled over and I kneed him in the crotch. He crumpled, kneeling on the floor. “You little bitch,” he said, blood streaming down his face.
I ran to my room. I grabbed the few things that had belonged to me when I got there. My flip phone and a pair of jeans I’d brought with me. I couldn't be in a place that wasn’t any safer than the home I’d grown up in. And I certainly couldn’t raise Bella in a home that was unsafe.
