My Escort (13 page)

“Are you staggering?”

              “I am not,” I slapped his arm, tripping over a branch and losing my footing. He caught me and I held my breath, startled by my near fall. “I can’t see a thing out here!” I lied. His hard arms still held on to me as I stood again, his touch creating a wildfire sensation all down my arms.

              I looked at him and saw the moonlight shimmering in his dark-brown eyes. I resisted the urge to brush my hand along his stubble. He had once been so hurt, and when I looked into his eyes, I could now see that sadness.

              “Sure,” he said in a sarcastic tone. A smile pulled at his lips.

In heavy silence we continued walking toward the beach. Like Michelle had said, it wasn’t too far from the sea and the rolling of waves could be heard. The moonlight was shining along the dark surface of the water.

A small wooden shack came into view. We walked in and pulled on the small hanging string, which flicked on the light. The light was swinging gently as the breeze crept in, creating moving shadows. The light highlighted neglected, dusty shelves. I couldn’t help but find amusement in the whole situation when I thought of the older wooden shack in comparison to Mr. Lanter’s villa. No wonder his ex-wife never found the wine. I doubted she would have ever come to such a place if she was used to the splendor of the villa. On our right was a large rack of exquisite wines. On the left was a dirty old bench that could have once belonged to a handcrafter.

              The air was still, and for a few seconds we stood in the semi-darkness, listening to the sounds of the waves. I saw that a few of the wine bottles had dust on them. I unsteadily looked over a few of the titles just as Damon did beside me.

“So, what were you and my sister talking about?” he asked casually, placing one of the wine bottles back into the rack with studied disinterest.

              “Just girl talk,” I smiled lightly. “What was that one?” I asked, reaching out for the bottle he had just put back. I stood closer to him to read over the label.

              “This is a good one,” I said, looking over my shoulder and up at him. He was staring intensely at the thin strap of my silky white dress that had slipped down my shoulder. His brown eyes consumed me with hunger, like they always did. I slowly turned so that I was facing him.

My mind told me in so many ways not to do it. But my body held a thirst that would not be quenched until I kissed him. “Just one kiss,”
I thought. I moved slowly, watching his eyes to see if he would pull away. His eyes flickered over my own with uncertainty.

              My lips brushed his. I wanted to consume his hot breath. I brushed my bottom lip against his top one, encouraging him to take the lead. His hand slowly rose to my cheek, cupping it. I could see by the shimmer of his dark-brown eyes that he was tentative. I brushed my fingers gently along his collarbone and wrapped my hand behind his neck to pull him closer to me.

              The tension built as we gave in to the chemistry that pulsed in us. His lips pressed onto mine, spreading a fire through my whole body. I tightened my grip on the back of his neck, pulling him into me. My grip loosened on the bottle of red wine and it dropped to the floor. It didn’t smash as it fell onto some sacks of wetsuits, but I barely even noticed it leaving my fingertips anyway.

              He pulled my body to his and then twisted me slightly before pushing against my hip and pinning me to the wine rack. I savagely kissed him, my tongue wanting far more than what he was offering. His kiss was like no other. He slowly created a flame I could not put out. It made my legs quiver as his arms pulled me closer to him. His hands pressed hard against my body. I pushed my hands though his hair, now biting his lip. I was teasing him to let him know what I wanted. His lips pulled from mine and I opened my eyes, conscious of the sensation that quivered in my entire body. My nipples were now perked and the sensation ran up my legs, thumping heavily in a region that only he could please.

After a brief hesitation, he slammed me harder against the wine rack before collecting my lips again in his. His hand brushed along my shoulder and swept off one of my silky straps. I held firmly onto his belt, trying to rip away the buckle that was now my greatest enemy. His hands wrapped around my bottom, grabbing me firmly. He lifted me and wrapped my legs around his waist. He began kissing down my neck savagely. Every kiss lingered like a flame.

              My legs gripped around him harder. Only the material of our clothing came between what we both throbbed for. He lowered me onto the bench; everything beyond him seemed like a blur to my heightened senses. As he moved each jolt only stirred me further into need. I could feel him rising near my inner thigh.

As he bent over me I ran my hands along his shirt buttons, desperate to feel his body against mine. His naked chest was beautiful. There was a small amount of hair that trailed further down past his belt. I kissed his chest, loving the taste of his skin and the smell of his cologne lingering on my nose. I continued to kiss down his chest, my lips brushing over the chiseled abs of his stomach that I could right now claim as mine.

I could no longer control myself. I wanted Damon entirely. He pushed me back so I was lying flat and then he lowered his body over mine. I savagely ripped at his belt as he kissed me. One hand on the bench above my head supported his body as he used the other to gently move my hands away. I froze as he ran his hand up my inner thigh. The silky material lifted as he ran his hand underneath. His thumb brushed past the lining of my underwear.

His lips kissed over my collarbone and down toward my breasts; his hand simultaneously caressing me over my underwear. I could feel the breeze sweep past my hot skin as he then pulled my dress down over my purple silk bra. His fingers then traced over my bra straps as he continued kissing down my chest. A moan crept past my lips as his fingers that brushed over my skin triggered an exquisite reaction within.

              I could sense the hotness come from his shaft, and I wanted to grab it as I raised myself on my elbows, kissing him again. His wet tongue was pushing against mine firmly. His hand tightened around my shoulder as he pulled away from my kiss, both of us breathing in heavily as he looked at me with distant eyes.

              I knew then that I had lost him. Instantly I felt shattered as I collected the silky straps of my dress, glancing to the ground in utter shock. “He is pulling away,” I realized to myself in alarm and surprise. “But I thought...”

              “I’m sorry, Clover,” he said under his breath. “I just...I...” His hard chest rose and fell quickly. Panic spread across his face as he extricated himself and struggled to his feet. He looked shell-shocked as he buttoned his shirt. “I’m sorry.” He turned his back on me, collecting the red bottle of wine from the ground before he walked out.

I panted hard, my mouth open in shock. A tear began to slide down my face. I was still perched on my elbows, my dress around my hips. My face contorted in pain as I realized I had been a test for him. Maybe he wanted to see if he was up to the challenge, and I was his guinea pig. He was too broken to fulfil the hunger I was after.

“How stupid of me to kiss him,
”
I thought, covering my face with my hands.

I glanced down at my disheveled state. The humiliation made me feel sick in the pit of my stomach. I combed through my hair and straightened myself before storming toward the villa, wiping away tears as I went.

I heard Phillip and Michelle laughing with one another as I approached. Their smiles disappeared when they saw me.

“Clover, what happened?” Michelle asked, panicking when she saw my face. Phillip was searching behind me, obviously looking for Damon.

I wrapped my arms around myself insecurely, conscious of the tears that still lingered on my face. “Thank you for this opportunity, but I would very much appreciate it if your driver took me to the airport now,” I asked, almost in tears.

              “Of course,” Michelle said, instantly seeming to sober up. She understood and immediately turned to her husband. “Phillip, can you grab her bags please. Call Richard and ask him to get the limo ready.”

“Clover, I am so sorry,” she said, coming toward me to hug me.

              I smiled at her lightly, trying to show that I was fine. I raised my hand to her, knowing if she hugged me I would only cry all over again.

              “I really am appreciative,” I said, my voice cracking and a few tears spilling over. “But I just want to be at home right now.”

              She nodded and stepped aside in silence. Phillip had already collected my things and had handed them to the limo driver, who waited for me out front.

With no exchange of awkward goodbyes, I walked out to the limo. As we pulled away I registered the shock on Michelle’s and Phillip’s faces as they watched from the door. Phillip put his arm around Michelle to comfort her.

In the back, now alone in the darkness of night, I cried into my hands, embarrassed by my urges. I had let my body take control, and for that I had faced the ultimate humiliation.

T
he plane trip home was miserable, and to make matters worse, there was a baby wailing most of the trip. I felt as if at any point I could drop through the sky and not mind because I felt so numb. I just stared through my window into the vast black void, repeating the scene in my head of Damon touching and caressing me. What had I done wrong?

My apartment felt familiar yet when I placed my key into the door and opened it, the air felt stagnated. I instantly looked to where my laptop usually sat and thought of when Damon had helped me with my website. When I looked at the couch, I thought about when we sat and drank coffee together. His empty cup sat on the table. My own apartment now felt foreign. Around Damon I had changed. I had shown my vulnerable self and it had backfired.

Pudding was quick to start rubbing around my leg and meowing loudly. I dumped my bag near my small dining table and picked him up gratefully. I slid down to the floor, Pudding in my arms, and then rested my head against his soft fur, much to his despair. Eventually I made my way to my bed, trying to push the thoughts of Damon out of my mind. I was determined to focus only on my job at
Candice—
an ambition I should never have strayed from.

*

Four weeks went by and I found myself slowly recovering from his rejection. I didn’t hear a thing from him, something for which I found myself grateful. He had no place in my life. I tried to push away the memory of my time spent in the Bahamas, but when Cassidy first asked, I nearly broke down in tears. Holding myself together, I told her I didn’t want to talk about it.

Debra’s sly remarks washed over me as usual. As if knowing something went wrong, she was quick to jump on it, and brought Damon up every chance she got. “I think he would be a great model for our front cover next month. Could you have him drop by my office sometime soon?” she casually asked one week. I ignored her as best I could.

A new campaign was approaching and I hadn’t the nerve to confront Debra when she mentioned she couldn’t wait to see him there. She talked about him enthusiastically in front of both Cassidy and me. Cassidy only looked at me with sad eyes, as if she knew what had happened. She knew that Damon coming to such a stupid event was never going to happen. But I couldn’t face telling that to Debra—I couldn’t have her laugh at me. I knew she would find an indirect way to tell me I was never worth such a man. I did not need that reality rubbed in my face.

Although I had notice about the campaign, I lacked the energy to shop for it. Cassidy once again brought over clothes. She talked happily about her new boyfriend, who treated her well. I was happy for her; she was a very kind woman and she deserved nothing less.

She brought me a black dress which fitted nicer than her last one. “Maybe I have lost a little weight,” I said, looking at how the V-neck dress fitted my body. My hips were not as wide and my legs were slimmer. Cassidy fixed my hair into a nice bun, with falling tendrils that were teased to frame my face. The effect was feminine and classy.

              “I worry about you. You haven’t been eating as much lately,” she said quietly. We now sat in my lounge. From my window I was watching the sun fall. I was tired of all the campaigns I had to dress nicely for. My drive for work began to plummet, even though it felt like it was all I had. The thought of moving back to Ithaca tempted me. Being with my sister and mother held a lot of appeal to me right now.

“Are you okay after Damon?”

Usually I would be defensive and say that I was fine. I had even avoided speaking to my sister over the past month so she would not know something was wrong. The incident had made me evaluate everything about myself. How could one escort singlehandedly pull me apart in such a way? It hurt so much that I feared I had fallen for him. I was embarrassed by what he had done to me—turning his back on me as I lay half-naked in a shed, leaving me alone in the darkness of a foreign place. I wished that he had chased me like I saw on the movies. But he was simply a man far too broken, and I had let myself fall for his charms. I wondered if I had done everything differently, if I had not kissed him, or provoked him, whether it may have been different now. Would we still be talking?

“I don’t know,” I replied honestly.

“Well,” Cassidy said sadly, walking around the couch and lightly teasing the curls of my hair at the front. “You look beautiful tonight, like always. Why don’t you try to enjoy yourself?”

              I gave her a small smile in defeat. That seemed impossible. I did not want to share my time with the sponsors, and I certainly did not want to have to endure Debra’s company. Tonight, or any night.

              “I will have to tell her tonight about Damon. She will only make my life hell until I explain,” I said. If it hadn’t been for her and her manipulative nature I would never have met Damon in the first place. And now I had proven right her earlier “concern”—that I was unable to attract a man.

              “Are you sure you’re still happy to work at
Candice
?” Cassidy asked, resting her hand on mine. “You look so tired, and I don’t know, maybe the move might be good for you.” Cassidy and I had spoken at length about me moving back to Ithaca. I no longer had the strength and the motivation to keep working in a job that I now realized would lead me nowhere. Not whilst Debra was in charge, anyway.

              “I’m just so tired,” I admitted.

She grabbed both of my shoulders, raising her big blue eyes at me. “Hey! You are Clover Granture. You are a beautiful, witty, clever woman.”

I smiled at her, and then looked over my shoulder to assess the time. “Well, I better go. Thank you for everything, Cassidy.”

“Anytime,” she said with an encouraging smile before giving me a light hug. She followed me into the elevator and walked me to my cab, letting me take the first one.

I looked out at the New York night life from my window in the taxi. The sparkle seemed to have gone. Everything around me lacked color. I no longer had the admiration I once had for city life. It had never really been within my grasp. I had devoted too much time and energy to work.