Authors: Deborah Bladon
Isla
"That's a beautiful dress, Isla." Cassia stands in the doorway of my room, wearing one of Nigel's t-shirts and his sweatpants. "Do you have a date?"
"I do," I try to quiet the anxiety in my voice. "I'm going to the symphony."
"Your date knows you really well." She laughs. "Nigel knows better than to take me there."
I've never absorbed her disinterest in classical music as anything other than what it actually is. Cassia likes dress pants and blouses. I like dresses and skirts. She likes computers and offices. I like my violin and a place to play it. We're different, very different, but our friendship is what binds us together.
"Can we talk before you go?" She shifts her sock covered feet on the hardwood floors. "It's kind of important."
"Sit." I gesture towards my bed. "Is something wrong? Your folks are okay, right?"
I only ask because her father had a scare with his heart three months ago. He was walking the family dog one night and doubled over in pain. Cassia had been on the first flight back to Chicago and when she finally called to tell me that it had been a minor heart attack that required a change in diet and a simple medical procedure, I'd been relieved.
I don't know my own father. My mother always told me that he was a bastard one night stand so I've loved Cassia's vicariously through her. He sends me text messages sometimes just to see how I am. I treasure those, just as I cherish her entire family.
"They're good. They both send their love for your birthday." She rubs her hand over her eyes. "They'll take you out for dinner the next time they're in New York."
That would be the first time. They've never come here. I doubt they ever will. They love Chicago. It's where they belong.
"What's wrong?" I lower myself to the corner of the bed. "Is it Nigel?"
She sets her hands on her thighs. "He asked me to marry him."
My eyes dart down to her empty left hand. There's no ring. I ask even though the answer is obvious. "What did you say?"
"I love him," she confesses softly. "Maybe I didn't realize how much until he asked me to be his wife."
"You're going to marry him?" I hear the shock in my own voice, there's no possible way she won't pick up on it.
She smiles, revealing her perfect teeth. "Not yet. One day I think I will."
"He's okay with that?"
Her hands reach to grab one of mine. "I'm going to move in with him, Isla. We're going to get a place together, that's just for us."
Relief wouldn't have been the first emotion I expected, but it's what's there. The surprise is buried beneath it.
"I hate to do this to you." She gestures towards the hallway. "I know how expensive this place is and I know how hard it will be to find a new roommate."
I can afford it. I can turn her bedroom into a music room. The acoustics aren't great but it's a place I can practice without fear of disturbing anyone. I can cook. I can read. I can be me, just me.
I move so I can pull her into a hug. "I'm so happy for you, Cassia. Don't worry about me. I have a feeling I'm going to be just fine."
***
"Thank you for bringing your violin tonight," Gabriel says as he carries it in his left hand. His right is holding one of mine. "I was hoping that you'd give me a private concert."
I look up and into his face. He'd been just as entranced with the symphony's performance as I had been. He'd held my hand throughout and once the room had cleared, he'd kissed me there in the orchestra seats, telling me that he loved how I leaned forward in my seat the entire night. My eyes were half closed as I listened to the music.
"I'd love to play for you." I step into the elevator before he does. "Do you have a special request?"
"You'll play your favorite piece for me."
I knew he would say that before the words left his lips. He's demanding and intimidating in business, but when he's with me, he wants to see the world through my eyes. I sense that. I feel it more and more each time we're together.
"I will. Do you want me to do that when we get up to your place?" I watch the lights on the panel as the car travels towards the top floor.
"I want to punish you for what you did in my office yesterday." There's a dark bite in his tone.
"I came twice. How does that deserve a punishment, sir?"
His hand jumps to his lips. I know he's trying to shield a smile. "I'm talking about what happened prior to that. You have yet to tell me if you really showed your body to a customer."
"There are security cameras in the boutique." I grab the rail as the elevator jars to a stop. "Why don't you check for yourself?"
Gabriel
"You're a tease, Isla." I carefully place the violin case on the table near the door.
"A cock tease." She turns towards me as she pulls on the hem of the simple black dress she's wearing. "Or just a tease."
"Both," I say under my breath as I slide my suit jacket off. "I'm having a scotch. What can I get you?"
"Water."
I walk into the kitchen and pour myself a scotch, neat, and then drop a few ice cubes in a tumbler before opening a bottle of sparkling water to empty half into the glass. I take them back to where she's now seated on the sofa.
She takes the tumbler, drinking a quarter of the liquid before she pulls a piece of ice between her teeth and pops it into her mouth. She's by far the most sensual woman I've ever been with. What makes it even more erotic is that she isn't aware of her charm.
"Tell me why you don't drink." I sip the scotch. "I commend it, but you once mentioned that you were avoiding alcohol because it makes you foggy. I believe that's the word you used."
The ice cube pops out momentarily before she sucks it back onto her tongue.
Jesus. How is this making me hard?
"I went to a club one night." She bites the ice cube. "I used a fake ID to get in."
"There's obviously more to this story." I lean back, crossing my legs.
She picks up the glass and drinks more of the water. "I was partying hard, like way too hard. I almost did some stuff with a dentist."
"A dentist?" I ask, leveling my tone. She means that asshole that had his hands all over her at Skyn. Fuck that bastard for touching her.
"Supposedly." She arches a brow. "It's the kind of club where you don't ask a lot of questions."
"No questions." I sip more scotch.
She reaches back to scratch her neck; the motion graceful and compelling. Her entire torso stretches, pushing her breasts forward. "You have to ask some questions I guess. I don't know a lot about the place but there's a rumor that people fuck in the back rooms."
"So you went there to fuck?" I stiffen in my seat.
My window of opportunity to tell her that I was behind the mirrored glass watching her is closing. The need I have to hear her tell the story is too much. She'll never know I was there. The contracts signed upon entry to the backrooms guarantee that even if we run into someone who recognizes me from Skyn, my secret is safe with them.
"A customer told me about the club." She plays with a thread that has come loose on the hem of her dress. "She told me people go there who like the things I do."
"People who enjoy being fucked in sex swings?"
"You're going to get one of those, aren't you?" Her face brightens. "God, your cock and a swing. I'd never leave this place."
"I'll have one here within the hour if that's the case."
She smiles wildly before her eyes fall back to her lap. "I went there because the customer from the boutique told me that her husband ties her up sometimes and they met there."
Christ. She went to Skyn to find a man to bind her. She walked right into the middle of a lion's den.
"Did you find what you were looking for there?" I ask because selfishly I want to hear it. I want her to say the words. I want her to say that she found it in the boutique, or in my office, or in my fucking bed.
She swallows quickly before she looks at me. "I wish that night had never happened. I humiliated. I was drunk, and if one of the women who work there hadn't come to my rescue, I would have done things I regretted, probably for the rest of my life. She saved me."
I finish the rest of my drink quickly as I stare at her face wishing I could tell her that we actually saved each other that night.
***
"Do you have a crop here?" she whispers the question into the stillness of the room as she sits patiently on the edge of the bed completely nude, waiting for me to undress. "Do you keep all that at the hotel or is some of it here?"
I crouch down in front of her, pushing her legs apart. "Tell me what you think of me."
"What?" Her hands leap to my cheeks, cradling them. "What does that mean?"
"When I look at you," I begin before I cup my hand over one of hers, pressing her soft skin into my face. "I see this incredibly sensual woman who wants to explore and experience things. I see someone who is very comfortable with her body and isn't afraid to experiment."
"I like sex," she admits. "I've always liked it since I first had it."
"When you look at me what do you see?" I sweep my hand over her forehead, pushing her hair aside. "Tell me."
Her blue eyes study my face, her hands sliding over the contours of my jaw, my nose and my brows. "I see someone who is patient and kind."
"Don't tell those people you always speak of about that," I tease. "That's our secret."
She leans forward to brush her soft lips against mine. "I won't tell a soul."
"What else do you see?"
She exhales audibly, her tiny frame tremoring from the movement. "If I asked you something, would you tell me the answer, honestly?"
"Without hesitation."
"Am I special?" Her soft voice cracks with the words. "Will you remember me?"
The sharp pain in my chest almost doubles me over. I rise from my feet, push her back onto the bed, and kiss her deeply, slowly.
"You're the most amazing person I've ever known," I murmur into her lips as I pull back from the kiss. "I want to know you forever. I'll never forget you."
Isla
"I think ten of me could fit in your bathtub." I blow on the fragrant bubbles around me. "This is really expensive bubble bath, isn't it? It's lavender. Do you bathe in this?"
He laughs loudly as he swings his large legs over the edge of the tub before lowering himself into the water. "I bought this for you earlier today, Isla. I shower. I don't generally bathe."
"Did you get more ice cream?" I move towards him, clearing a path through the bubbles so I can float into his arms.
"Two pints." He pulls me closer as I wrap my thighs around his waist. "I'll feed it to you after our bath."
I look around the large room. He'd lit candles while I was still in the bed and he'd turned on music that is quietly filling the space. It's Bach, a favorite of his I think.
"Have you always lived alone?" I rub the pad of my thumb over his jaw, brushing away a bubble.
"Since I moved away for college." He squeezes my ass. "I never did the roommate thing. You don't talk about your roommate often."
"She's not going to be my roommate after next Friday." I lean back into his hand, wanting him to touch my pussy the same way he did in the bed earlier before he fucked me.
He acquiesces, his long fingers stroking my clit beneath the surface of the water. "What happens after next Friday?"
I close my eyes as I move on his hand. "She's moving out."
He reaches up to cup my breast with his free hand, pulling and twisting my nipple. "Are you going to get a new roommate?"
"That spot," I groan. "Why does that feel so good?"
"Your cunt is so sensitive, Isla." He kisses me softly. "It's so plush, so greedy and wet."
I can't focus on anything but my desire to come again. I move forward when the thickness of his hard cock rubs against my ass. "I love when you fuck me."
"Let yourself go." His breath is a whisper against my neck. "Let yourself feel."
I grab hold of his biceps, pushing my fingernails into his rock hard muscles as I grind my pussy into his hand and fall over the edge crying out his name.
***
"Are you going to get a new roommate, Isla?" He places the empty ice cream container and two metal spoons on the nightstand. "I can help you find someone suitable."
"You mean someone without a cock?"
He chuckles. "I'd prefer if you didn’t live with a man, but it's your choice, of course."
I know that he means that. I can't imagine he'd ever tell me what to do or what decisions to make. I do want his guidance though. He's educated in areas that I have little experience in.
"Can we talk about something?" I close my eyes briefly to chase away my doubts. "It's something personal."
He lowers himself back to the bed so he's facing me directly. He pulls a corner of the sheet over his lap, shielding his body. I'm grateful. Telling him about my life while staring at his cock, would be a welcome, but awkward, distraction.
"We can talk about anything you'd like. Tell me what it is."
His phone rings. The sound startles me enough that I pull the sheet tighter around me. Maybe it's a sign. Maybe I'm not supposed to feel so comfortable with him that I'm sharing my innermost secrets.
He doesn't move. He doesn't even flinch as it continues to ring.
"It might be about your mother," I say quietly.
"My mother is in the very capable hands of a private nurse she hired." He taps his finger on his knee. "I believe they went to the theater tonight and then they likely went to dinner. She's fine."
I scratch my neck. "A private nurse? She's okay, isn't she?"
"She's one of the healthiest people I know." He brushes his fingers across my cheek. "She had an anxiety attack that night, nothing more. I'm not concerned about her. I want to focus on you. What did you want to talk about?"
Maybe that's actually the sign that I've been waiting for. He'll understand. He has issues with his own mother. I clasp my hands together in front of me. I take a deep breath and I look right into his eyes. "My mother is suing me. She's trying to take away everything my grandmother left me."