by Nadia Lee
The sound of flesh slapping is a huge turn-on. I’m on fire for him. Even as a climax claims me and I’m screaming his name like my life depends on it, it isn’t enough. I want more of him. I want him to screw me until this monstrous need he’s awakened is sated.
Tolyan sinks his fingers in my hair and pulls my head back, raising my torso. He puts his teeth into my shoulder, not biting but as a carnassial clasping of flesh, and slides the other hand up under my body to grasp one breast. And holding me like that, in the most primitive and savage grip possible, he plunders me.
And I know we won’t be sleeping tonight.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Angelika
My eyes are bleary from lack of sleep. We finally collapsed in utter exhaustion as the light of the dawn ran its fingers into the room. Tolyan told me to get some sleep, and I think I got maybe an hour.
Now the only thing keeping me lucid and functioning is endless coffee. The break room at the foundation is well stocked.
Note to self: next time we have a wild sex marathon, pick a Friday or Saturday.
To make the sleep deprivation worse, the foundation is buzzing with new activity. Rhonda runs around with a huge list in her hand, making sure she has everything checked off, and that means I need to be rushing around to assist her. Apparently, we have a bachelor auction coming up, and Elizabeth has decided, rather abruptly last night, that some changes are needed because the event’s been getting “boring” the last few years.
At three thirty, she calls a meeting. Since Rhonda is going, I tag along too.
The conference room is on the opposite end of the floor from Elizabeth’s office. It’s big enough to seat ten people with a table in the center and a projector set up for PowerPoint. Tolyan sits next to me, self-possessed, calm and looking disgustingly fresh and rested. What’s his secret?
Rhonda and Patrice go over the financial objectives and exactly how the money raised will be split among some projects the foundation is planning on. There are detailed numbers for everything, including supporting the causes the foundation’s championed over the years.
“Excellent. Thank you both,” Elizabeth says. “You’ve done a wonderful job, and it’s exactly as I’d hoped for.”
The two women beam. I let out a relieved sigh—they’ve been working so hard on that presentation. Elizabeth is friendly and sweet, but she doesn’t let anything slide at work.
“Now. The location of the bachelor auction,” Elizabeth says. “We generally use a hotel, but I want to do something different this time. The event’s in June, so I want it to feel warm, pretty and outdoorsy, but not too casual. I want this to be the kind of event that makes people relax and dump money on the bachelors. Any suggestions?”
“A vineyard?” Patrice says.
“Hard to reserve for a full day, and security can be tricky,” Tolyan says.
“There’s an estate with a gorgeous château I know, but I doubt that would work.” Elizabeth shakes her head. “Plus, I don’t want to do it in France. The money raised is mainly for domestic causes involving women’s shelters and community centers for underprivileged children.”
“How about a domestic destination, like Hawaii or something?” I suggest. I’ve gotten used to speaking up. Rhonda has been taking me to all the biweekly meetings and encouraging me to share my thoughts. No matter how wild my ideas are, nobody ever puts me down or makes me feel bad for coming up with them.
“A domestic location is good, but Hawaii won’t work. Most people don’t want to spend that kind of time. Time is money for them, and the trip won’t be deductible, either,” Elizabeth points out kindly.
“How about the grove your family owns? The Pryce side, not the Reed side,” Tolyan says. The slightly chilled tone as he says “the Reed side” indicates he isn’t too fond of them. “It’s exclusive and secure enough, especially since nobody can go there other than by invitation. The foundation bears the Pryce name, so I imagine Salazar Pryce would be willing to lend it to help the cause. If not, you can speak to Ceinlys first. He’ll do whatever she asks.”
Elizabeth nods, a small, satisfied smile forming on her face. “That’s a good idea. And I will speak to Ceinlys first. She’s always been a huge supporter of the foundation. Any other suggestions or thoughts?”
There are a few other ideas, but it’s clear that the Pryce grove is the best. After a little more discussion, Elizabeth calls an end to the meeting.
“Thank you for coming, everyone,” she says before heading out. She’s already reaching for her phone, probably to call this Ceinlys person. She doesn’t believe in putting things off.
We all follow her out, me walking next to Tolyan. “In case you don’t know,” he says, “the foundation is the Pryce family’s pet project. Elizabeth’s in charge, but that can change anytime, although it’s unlikely. Nobody squeezes charity money out of the rich like she does.”
I have to agree. The woman looks like an angel and speaks like one, too. She has an uncanny talent for making you feel important and needed, which in turn stirs you to help her in any way you can.
Tolyan continues, “Salazar is the head of the family. Ceinlys is his ex-wife.”
“He listens to his ex-wife?”
“Yes. They’ve reconciled, although she declined to marry him a second time.”
“How come?”
“She hasn’t had the best time being a Pryce. Not every woman enjoys being a member of a family, even if it’s one as wealthy as the Pryces. Salazar’s touchy about his past as a womanizer, so it’s best to avoid reminding him of it. Obviously it’s the same for Ceinlys. Upsetting them wouldn’t end well.”
“Got it.” Don’t talk about women or sex or divorce in front of the family whose name the foundation bears.
“Good.” He stops in front of my desk. “Want to head out early?”
I check the time. It’s not quite quarter till five. But nobody at the foundation cares when you leave on Friday as long as you wait until after four.
“Sure,” I say. “I’m barely awake as it is.”
“I’m surprised your voice is working,” he says, his eyes flashing with a wicked gleam.
I look around furtively. “Will you shush?”
“Everyone knows we live together.”
“So?”
“When healthy adults live together, they tend to do other things too. Like sex.”
“Yeah, but they don’t talk about it at work. We’re supposed to be professional, remember?”
“Yes. That’s why we’re discussing the matter professionally.”
I shake my head, but a smile breaks through. Tolyan can be surprisingly shameless about some things. It’s even more comical because he can look heart-attack serious when he speaks about sex.
“Oh, shut up. Get your things and let’s go.” But I’m half laughing as I say it.
On the way home, we stop by a Mexican restaurant and have tacos. The dinner’s delicious, and the salsa they serve is positively addictive. I don’t talk much, mainly because my head’s getting foggier now that I don’t have to be mentally alert anymore, and the day is finally catching up to me. Not only that, feeling safe with Tolyan has dampened the constant surge of adrenaline. I didn’t realize until recently how much stress it put on me mentally and emotionally.
The meal goes well, except for the small incident where the waitress trips on something and spills salsa and queso con carne on Tolyan’s shirt and pants.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she says.
“It’s fine,” he says coldly. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
The manager comes out and apologizes. He comps our dinner and offers a free dessert, which we turn down. I’m stuffed already, and Tolyan probably just wants to go home and get out of the stained clothes.
We drive home, Tolyan smelling like a Mexican festival in the close confines of the car. The second we walk into the penthouse, he dumps his dress jacket over the back of a dining chair
and heads straight for the shower. Just changing into a new outfit wouldn’t erase the lingering scent.
I want to join him in the shower, but the Dobermans come over and whine for attention. I pat them all, still kind of embarrassed that they saw what Tolyan and I did last night. I didn’t notice in the throes of sexual haze, but Tolyan apparently told them to stay back.
It’s a little awkward, but I should think of it like watching a documentary. People watch documentary programs on wildlife mating and don’t consider it pornography. It’s probably the same thing for dogs.
“Isn’t that so?” I whisper to Stravinsky.
He looks at me without a response. I’m certain he’s trying to communicate, “If you give me a treat, I’ll give the answer you want.”
“I don’t think so.” I straighten up, grab a glass of water and pull out my phone. An alert pops up that Lyosha is following me back. Cool.
Seeing the alert makes me realize I haven’t heard from Courtney in a while. She didn’t text me on my birthday, which I presumed was because she got busy and forgot or something. She does have a life in Philadelphia. But she’s never gone this long without at least a quick hello.
Although I rarely reach out first, this seems like the perfect time to check up on her, like she’s done countless times for me.
Tapping a message out on the phone, I move around the dining table with the water in my hand. Something hot and questing pokes me right between my ass cheeks.
“Ack!” I jump and spin at the same time. Water sloshes over the rim and splashes all over Tolyan’s jacket. “Shit!”
Stravinsky moves back with a whine. Tchaikovsky and Mussorgsky give him a pointed look. If they could, they would be waving fingers at him.
Tolyan keeps his phones in his jacket pockets. I take the drenched jacket and pull out both. Thankfully, they aren’t too wet. Things should be okay.
“Stravinsky, don’t you ever stick your nose there like that again.” I wag my finger at him. “Bad dog!”
He hangs his head. I get some paper towels and wipe up the water as best I can, then sit down to finish my text.
–Me: Hey, girlfriend. You doing okay?
–Courtney: Fine, but why are you texting from this number?
–Me: Why wouldn’t I be?
–Courtney: Thought you got hacked and had to get a new number.
–Me: What are you talking about?
Three dots show, then vanish, then show again. Finally she responds.
–Courtney: How do I know you’re who you say you are?
Is she serious? But wait—maybe Roy contacted her, pretending to be me to lure her into something. It’s possible he’s figured out that she and I still talk.
I take a quick selfie and send it to her.
–Me: There. Trust me now?
–Courtney: OMG! Then who was that other person? She sounded just like you! Lemme check right now. This is so weird!
Is she going to confront the pretender?
Holy shit. No, no, no! If it’s Roy, there’s no telling what he might do to her.
–Me: No, don’t!
Just as I send the text, Tolyan’s phone buzzes once. Twice. Three times.
It sounds urgent, as more texts pop up. I glance at the screen in case it’s from Lyosha or Elizabeth with some important business or something. Sometimes she contacts him after hours.
But no… The texts filling his screen have nothing to do with Lyosha or Elizabeth.
I blink, certain I’m seeing things. I have to be. But the blood in my veins is running cold. My fingertips are icy and clumsy as I pick up his phone.
–Courtney: Hey, who the fuck are you?
–Courtney: Are you really Angelika?
–Courtney: If you are, prove it! Send me a selfie!
–Courtney: Are you fucking with me? You think you can get away, bitch?
–Courtney: Angelika contacted me, you shithead!
The level of aggression from Courtney is shocking. I vaguely make note of that, while I also note all her texts to the fake Angelika are hitting Tolyan’s phone.
If he’s been contacting her, why didn’t he say something? And why did he feel the need to contact her anyway?
Courtney warned me to figure out why Tolyan is helping me without demanding anything in return. I didn’t worry about it much because it seemed like an ungrateful thing to do when my life was finally looking up, when the universe finally handed me a lemon I could turn into delicious lemonade!
“What are you doing?”
I jerk my head up, losing my grip on the phone. It clatters on the table.
“Tolyan.”
He’s in a fresh set of clothes, a loose T-shirt and comfortable pants. His feet are bare, but that doesn’t lessen the dangerous edge to him. His hair’s damp from the shower, and he smells of body gel and freshly washed male.
But nothing lessens the betrayal ravaging my heart.
“I didn’t know you were in the habit of going through my phone.” His eyes are unreadable.
“I didn’t know you were in the habit of pretending to be me and texting my friend,” I manage through thick confusion. It pools around me like an impenetrable fog. Still, I try to keep calm. He has to have a good reason for doing this and not telling me. I’m going to listen first, then tell him I want to be looped into things that concern me. Just in case the possibility hasn’t occurred to him.
“I have my reasons.” He’s calm. He doesn’t seem to care he got caught. And his nonchalance stokes my fury.
“Such as?”
“Like thinking of ways to use her to destroy Roy.”
“What?”
“She’s been reporting to him about you.”
It’s like a spear into my heart. Courtney has been my friend all this time. Or so I thought. I trusted her. Told her things I couldn’t tell anybody. But she was spying on me for Roy? “No way,” I rasp.
“It’s true. I already checked everything. She’s a petty criminal who likes to spend more money than she can make. And she doesn’t enjoy honest work. Didn’t you think it odd that every time you give her a clue as to where you were, Roy would strike soon after?”
“Coincidences…” Courtney wasn’t even that close to my stepbrother when we were growing up. She was my friend back then, and she’s my friend still. Besides, it isn’t like I’m in witness protection, and Roy is extremely persistent. He would’ve been looking for me and could have found me about the time Courtney and I texted.
“Little fawn, Roy Wilks seems like an insurmountable monster to you, but he truly isn’t that good. The only reason he’s been able to survive so long is he lives too far away.”
Something about this statement feels off, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Not when my head is spinning with shock, pain and rage.
Tolyan says, “That’s where Courtney comes in. I need somebody to force him to come to L.A., not get some punk to do another pointless hit-and-run. You want him caught and taken care of, don’t you?”
I do, otherwise I’m never going to be free of him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were doing this, then? Why didn’t you warn me about Courtney?”
“I didn’t think it was important.”
“Of course it was important! It’s about me.”
He merely looks at me.
“I’ve been cooperative. You can’t say that I made it hard for you to keep me safe. So there was no reason for you to keep things from me. I would’ve quit contacting Courtney if that’s what you wanted!”
Something flickers in his gaze. I realize he isn’t going to tell me why he’s being so secretive when there’s no reason to behave in such a manner. He can be high-handed, but this is beyond that. When he asks me to do something, I might push if I’m uncertain. But when he explains the rationale, I generally agree he’s right and go with his plan. Like when he asked me to move in. Or get the internship at the foundation. Or told me I needed new clothes, and so on.
There’s no reason for
him to hide things, and I’ve proven myself reasonable enough that he should’ve told me. I deserve that much respect. Unless…
All my senses are prickling. Something’s up. This isn’t about a lack of respect. He’s being too secretive.
“Roy Wilks is a cancer, and I’m going to excise it,” he says finally. “Trust me.”
“Hard to trust somebody who won’t tell me the whole story. What else have you done?”
“I hacked your phone. Intercepted the birthday present from your stepbrother.”
My hands shake. So Roy didn’t forget. And all this time, I was celebrating that he did. “Don’t you know keeping things like that from me gives me a false sense of safety? Which then puts me in greater danger?”
“Don’t tell me you were looking forward to his gift. It wasn’t anything pretty. And if you’re worried about thanking him properly, I already took care of that.” His smile is entirely too self-satisfied.
It doesn’t do a thing to lessen my anxiety or fury. “What did you do?”
“Sent him a box with a limp rubber dick inside. Seemed fitting.” He takes a step forward, his expression inscrutable.
I retreat an equal distance.
His eyes narrow, but I don’t move. He’s the one who destroyed my trust. Played me for a fool. Hacking into my phone. Pretending to be me to contact Courtney, knowing she’s been talking to Roy. Intercepting packages from Roy and sending things to him in my name.
Then… He said Roy has survived because he lives too far away. Which means: too far away from Tolyan.
“You know exactly where Roy is, and you want to lure him out,” I say, my lips rubbery.
“That’s right.”
Everything that’s happened since Tolyan and I met starts to make sense, like a jigsaw puzzle coming together. Ugly emotions pierce my heart like hot daggers, then cut straight down until the pain pools in my gut. “So I’m…what? Bait? Roy said he’s going to come for me when I’m at my happiest. So that’s why you were so nice to me. You have to make sure I look happy to everyone in case Roy is having me watched.”