by R. J. Lewis
I have to go, he had said. I rushed it.
Just remembering those words, the pained way he’d said them, makes my chest tighten with indescribable emotion.
His eyes suddenly flicker open, meeting mine. I should look away, but I stare down at him like I’m staring into his soul. I feel a light touch along the side of my leg, and I tense. I don’t have to look to know he’s running his hand along the length of it. It’s the lightest stroke, like a feather touching me, but my entire body is laser focused to the feeling. His eyelids lower as he watches my expression. My lips are parted, and my head is dizzy. I feel like I’m roasting on the inside. My body shivers in response, and he feels it.
Heaven help me, this man is dangerous.
He drops his hand and shuts his eyes again like he’s satisfied. Like he’s just gotten a hit of a drug and is complacent for now.
But I’m not satisfied. I’m feeling needy and hot. I take a deep breath and focus on the task at hand. I squirt shampoo into my hand and begin to wash his hair in a trance. Then I follow it up with conditioner. His cologne is wafting to me, masculine and delicious. He makes a soft sound when I press a little harder into his scalp. He likes the medium pressure, I note. I massage him in small circular motions, dragging out deep sounds from his throat.
“Is that good for you, Mr West?” I quietly ask, eyeing the way his lips have parted now.
“Ivy,” he returns, a smirk forming on his lips, “if your hands are this good on my scalp, I imagine they’ll be good everywhere else.”
I bite my lip to suppress a smile. “I’m afraid you’re not paying for anywhere else, Mr West.”
“Fucking hell, Ivy,” he lets out, sounding pained. “If all it takes is money, take every cent I own.”
“I’ll take that into consideration,” I tease, but my voice doesn’t sound as playful as I hoped.
I rinse out the conditioner and fetch a towel. I start to wrap it around his head. As he begins to sit up, I feel his hand again at my leg, the smallest touch running up the back of my knee and lower thigh. I still and shut my eyes, all of me centered around the feeling.
He drops his hand again and I open my eyes. My heart hiccups in my chest. He’s staring right at me, gauging my reaction.
“Mr West,” I admonish in hardly a whisper, “you’re not being very friendly.”
“Miss Montcalm,” he returns in the same hushed tone, “I’m in need of guidance.”
A wet trail of water escapes from under the towel and runs down his face, ending at his lips. He uses his tongue to swipe at it, and I’m. in. trouble.
Without warning he stands up, his front pressed to mine for a quick moment. I feel every inch of him along me, and I still. Dear God, he’s solid. I hear his soft chuckle as he slides past and moves back to my station. He should look ridiculous with the black gown over his suit, his head still wrapped in that dark towel, but he doesn’t. I have a feeling this guy could wear a trash bag and make it look sexy.
I follow after him, catching sight of Alicia along the way. She throws me something and I quickly catch it. It crinkles in my hand and I look down. It’s a lollipop. I quirk a brow in her direction and she motions for me to pop it in my mouth before wagging her brows and gesturing at Aidan.
I shake my head at her and she moves to me. She makes walking past me look innocent, but she pauses just long enough to whisper in my ear, “You look like you’re struggling, all lusting and shit. Time to reverse the tables, honey. Make him pant.”
“And how am I supposed to accomplish that with a sucker?” I snap back.
She just smiles at me and continues on.
Okay, so she wants me to look like a hussy sucking on this thing in front of Aidan, but that’s not really my sort of jam. I pocket the lollipop, approach the back of Aidan’s chair and remove the towel.
I run my fingers through the length of his hair, trying my hardest to appear all professional. I’m so full of crap, though. Tremors run through my fingers, giving away my façade. Because I like touching him. Fuck, I like it a lot.
“How do you want it?” I ask him, looking at his reflection in the mirror.
He’s staring back at me with tousled wet hair falling over his forehead. His deep brown eyes are filled with mischief. “I’ll let the lady lead.”
I raise a brow. “Relinquishing your power, Mr West?”
“Just this once.”
“You didn’t strike me as the type.”
“I like a woman in control just as much as I like to be in control, Miss Montcalm.”
Lydia, my co-worker on the station next to me, tilts her head in our direction, eyes bulging from her face. Her mouth parts in an O shape.
How many others are listening to his every word? I wonder.
“That’s right,” I reply, recalling our first conversation. “You like your woman untied, unharmed and completely within her right to touch you as much as her little heart desires.”
Aidan’s smile spreads slowly. He’s so charming, I’m momentarily taken off guard by it.
“Good memory, Ivy.”
“Thank you, Mr West.” And before he can knock me off guard again, I add, “Now it’s time for you to shut up.”
*
It’s tragic cutting his hair because it’s so thick and nicely tousled.
But he’s giving me the power and he’s watching me like a hawk. I ignore his attention and this time I don’t falter. I take this very seriously. Hair is critical. When it’s done right, it can really bring out a person’s features.
I give him a classic low taper cut. He’s going to rock it in a suit. It’s professional and stylish and it’s going to really put the focus on his face, especially those incredible cheekbones he’s sporting. I felt those cheekbones too when my fingers got close. I'm still coming down from that high.
When I’m finished the cutting and doing the last-minute finishes, my gaze meets his and I see the cocky glint in his eye. He knows how affected I am by him. So arrogant. Despite giving me the control, he holds the overall power. It’s sort of infuriating, and I’m itching to get the same response out of him.
But how?
With a quick glance in Alicia’s direction, I’m reminded of the lollipop in my pocket. It’s bold and against my comfort, but I’m eager to have him just as shaken. I set the scissors down and pull it out of my pocket. I quickly unwrap it and throw it in my mouth. I try to seem casual, making a light sucking sound as I reach for the gel and squirt some in the palm of my hand. But I can hear his breathing grow faint. His gaze is a weight I can sense and it’s directed at my mouth. I spin the stick of my lollipop, pull it out of my mouth really quick, making sure my lips hug the candy as it leaves my mouth. Then I pop it back in and rub both hands together, mixing the gel together. I style Aidan’s hair, turning his chair slightly in my direction. I feel his finger graze my inner thigh, climing high enough to send pulses through me, and I know it’s on purpose. If he fingered me right here, I wouldn't say no. I'd let him rub my clit to orgasm.
See? This is why I can't be around him. I'm weak.
But he stops touching me after my breathing changes. I think he's losing it, too. As I work the front of his head, I finally look at him. His eyes are zoned in on the sucker. His face is twisted, filled with heat.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he says quietly, meeting my eye.
“Good,” I return, solemnly. “You need to know the damage you leave behind.”
“And you’re teaching me that by making me feel wild?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s how you make most women feel.”
“I just want to know that you feel that way.”
I pause my strokes and let out a soft sigh. I feel a tad defeated, close to admission. “Aidan –”
“I like when you call me Mr West in public,” he cuts in, eyes roaming my face.
“Mr West.” I smile.
“Fuck, Ivy."
"Mister West," I repeat slowly, tasting his name on my tongue.
He lets out a deep sound from his throat. "Yes?”
He wants to know that I feel the same way he is feeling. He knows I feel it. Maybe he just wants that admission. He wants me to acknowledge it out loud.
Instead, I gently tear the gown off him. “You’re all done, Mr West.”
He gives me that slow spreading smile again. The one loaded with charm. Then he stands up.
I lead him to the front counter -- I can feel his eyes on my ass the whole way -- and do the standard procedure, telling him like I would any other customer, “Mattie will meet you at the register. If there’s anything else you’d like, you can ask her.”
He spins around to face me, appearing amused. “Is this a discard?”
Facing him, I take a few steps back like I’m busy and about to return to work. I keep the lollipop at the corner of my mouth as I reply, “This is farewell, for now.”
He takes a step closer, eyeing my mouth. “Not so fast.”
I stop, looking far more confident than I really am. But I’ve gotten to him. He looks so twisted up with want, it’s impossible to ignore. “Yes?”
He comes even closer. “I want to see you again, Ivy.”
“Sure. I think it’ll take a few weeks until your hair is in need of another trim –”
I stop talking when his hand reaches out. He takes the lollipop stick and gently pulls the candy from my mouth. It’s so abrupt, I don’t even feel it leaving my mouth. He doesn’t pause before placing it into his own mouth. My lips part in shock. He smirks at my expression.
“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing each other sooner, Miss Montcalm.”
He turns away and reaches into his pocket. He throws a few hundred dollars down on the counter – the cut wasn’t more than forty bucks – and leaves.
A few minutes later I feel a buzz in my pocket. I reach for my phone and swipe the screen.
A.W.: I can taste you on this lollipop, Ivy Montcalm. You’re divine.
Aidan
I spin the lollipop in my mouth, smirking when I think of how surprised Ivy looked when I took it. The girl is fucking adorable. I’m having too much fun with her. I’m feeling the urge to go through her file. It’s sitting in my desk, and I need another hit of Ivy too-beautiful-it-hurts Montcalm.
Twenty minutes later I’m back at my office. I toss the finished lollipop in my secretary’s bin. Fran looks up from her laptop. When she sees me, she stands.
“Mr West,” she begins. “You have –”
“Not now,” I cut in, walking past her and into my office.
“But I must tell you –”
I slam my office door behind me and peel off my jacket. I’m just about to hang it up when I hear a familiar voice.
“Aidan.” The voice sounds breathless and deep. Once upon a time, that voice used to have blood rushing to my dick. Now it just makes my spine stiffen.
I turn around slowly.
“Nina,” I say, detached.
She’s sitting in my office chair, looking exactly as I remember. It feels like a day hasn’t gone by since I’ve seen her. Suddenly, everything comes rushing back in. The past hits me with full force. I stand still, laser focused on her, waiting for her to speak.
She runs a hand through her chin-length blonde hair and looks down into her lap for a quick moment. Her cheeks go crimson red. She looks shy. It was that shyness that drew me in, and she knows it.
She played me so well.
“How are you, Aidan?” she asks me, that voice growing tender. Her brown eyes look up to meet mine. “I missed you.”
“You missed me,” I repeat slowly.
“Aidan,” she bites her lip, looking anxious. “I want to talk.”
Now that the surprise of seeing her wears off, I move toward her. “There’s nothing to talk about, Nina.”
“We left on a bad foot.”
“Why aren’t you deepthroating that Russian fella you were running around with?”
She sucks in a breath. “Aidan –”
“Drop the innocent act, Nina, we all know you’re a fucking Pitbull when you want to be, alright? I’m not the Aidan you knew. Get the fuck off my chair.”
She appears panicked. “Aidan, I’m sorry about everything. I missed you. I missed the way we were.”
I fight a smile. “Yeah? Good for you, Nina, good for you.”
“Don’t act like you don’t miss me, too. You shut me out because I was with Edgar, but you and me weren’t exclusive! How many times did I beg for you to want more?”
I round the desk, grab the chair she’s sitting all comfy in and spin it around so that she’s facing me. She looks up at me as I bend down, staring her right in the eyes. My face is hard, cold. I let her take a moment to see all the rot in me. My empty shell stares back at her.
“Listen to me closely,” I tell her harshly, my voice low. “I didn’t shut you out because you were sucking some man’s cock, you silly little cunt. I shut you out because you were a toxic whore, and you knew how to play me. When we weren’t fucking like possessed zombies, we were snorting shit through our noses and you were stealing right from under me. You’re a dirty thief in a pretty package.”
Her eyes water. “You’re hurting my feelings, Aidan.”
I let out a hard laugh. “Stop playing the part. It’s not working on me. Go find another cock stupid enough to fall for your drama. Oh wait, you did find a cock, didn’t you? Edgar is his name, you said? Bet you burned that bridge, didn’t you? How much did you manage to make out with?”
“I made out with nothing, Aidan –”
“Did you manage to pump diamonds out of him? Did you wait for him to fall asleep before you went through his wallet? Did you find the key to his safe? Now that was surprising. I didn’t think you’d stoop so low, get so desperate, but that’s the kind of cunt you are. You’re looking for your next paycheck, and it’s not coming from me. Now get the fuck out of my chair. Better yet, take the chair with you. I don’t want the stench of rotten, cold pussy in the air around me while I work.”
She’s stunned. Absolutely fucking astonished I’m talking to her in this way. I never have before. It leaves me with the most satisfying feeling. Once, I mourned her. I purged her from my system like you would a flu. Except she took a lot longer to get over. And like a fucking flu you've just recovered from, I woke up one day and I could breathe a lot better and my chest didn’t feel so tight.
It was the best fucking day of my life.
She stands up, looking lost. I step away from her. I’ll do anything not to feel her fucking touch. Even the slightest graze of her body brushing past mine will trigger me. I turn away and walk to the window. I stare out, waiting for her to leave. I hear her rummaging around me. She’s grabbing her things.
“You’re going to wind up a very lonely man, Aidan,” she tells me through shaky breaths. “A very lonely, cold, pathetic man. You always were weak. You wanna know the reason I ran off with Edgar? Because he knew how to take care of a woman.” Her voice grows louder, angrier. “You didn’t even know how to take care of yourself, you crazy fuck. Behind that arrogance is a little boy in a man’s body.” She scoffs, letting out a cold laugh. “All that money and you can’t find someone to help sort out your fucking whackjob issues. I was the only one that got the closest to figuring you out. Pretend all you want that you didn’t need the hit, go ahead and blame me for it, but you took that shit like your next breath and you unloaded everything on your doped up highs.
“If there’s one thing your father should have done, Aidan, he should have beat you a little harder on the head. You’d have been more useful as a dimmed down fuck.”
And there she is, the real Nina in all her glory. I look back at her and let her see the cold smile on my face. It’s not the reaction she wants. She lets out an angry huff and storms out of the office.
The second I hear the door slam shut, my smile fades.
I move to the chair and collapse into it. I look down at my shaky hand. My heart isn’t go
ing crazy. I feel perfectly fine, and yet my body is trembling everywhere. I’ve learned to mute strong emotion, to protect myself from damage, but my body is reacting without the added emotion. It’s the most fucked up feeling.
There’s a knock on the door. Fran pokes her head in and looks apologetic.
“Mr West,” she says, “I’m sorry. She was still on your visitor’s list, and she made sure to let me know that –”
“It’s okay, Fran,” I cut in, gently. “Remove her from the list and that’ll be all.”
She leaves.
Feeling triggered, I pull my phone out of my pocket and message Ruth.
A.W.: Remind me.
Five minutes later, she responds.
Ruth: He who doesn’t look ahead remains behind.
Ruth: Every day you’re growing further away from the person you shed two years ago, my darling. Never stop.
Never stop.
Keep going.
I nod at the screen and pocket the phone.
Then I shut my eyes and breathe.
The Messenger
A.W.: I guess I should have known you would find out my name.
Ivy: I guess I should have known a rich man could find out my place of work. Naughty of you, Mr West.
A.W.: God, I’d love to hear you say that in person.
Ivy: Just so you know, I didn’t look you up or anything. My best friend Ana figured you out.
A.W.: Ah. Talking about me, Miss Montcalm?
Ivy: She was curious who I was talking to. Have your ears been burning?
A.W.: Fuck, every inch of me has been burning.
A.W.: You’re doing things to me, Ivy.
*Sometime later*
A.W: I’d like to go for that ice cream, Ivy.
Ivy: Ah, now you’re acknowledging that bit of convo from a few days ago?
