Haze

by Andrea Wolfe

  I started thinking about his rough, unkempt stubble—it looked as if he hadn't shaved since before our meeting—and how I wanted to feel it rubbing against my skin, rubbing against my thighs as he—

  I took a deep breath and then started laughing, trying as hard as I could to extinguish the fire in my belly. "Dammit, Jack," I complained. It was as if he knew what was going on in my head. He rubbed my back in light circles, a sensation that felt good in more places than one. More places being my whole body. Heat filled my core and spread until it reached the space between my thighs, the sensation of vulnerability far more tantalizing than it should have been. It baffled me that this could be happening as a result of this guy barely touching me, a guy that I didn't think I even liked.

  Shit, I wasn’t fooling anyone. I was really into him, even if he was totally out of my league. But this wasn't like me at all, no way.

  The bartender brought us our drinks and Jack handed him a hundred-dollar bill. My jaw dropped, even though it shouldn't have. Everybody in the room had money like that; well, maybe other than Jesse.

  I took a sip and was blown away by how good it was. "Jack, this is great!" It was also strong.

  "You've never had a Manhattan? This is one of the few places that does 'em the way I like 'em. It's dry vermouth instead of sweet. I don't like sweet drinks."

  Something about a drink being dry seemed to fit Jack's personality very well—at least better than sweet. I also didn't know anything about fancy drinks, so I did my best to piece together the information. I listened as if he were giving a sermon, accepting his wisdom like gospel. "You know, I don't really like these events," he said quietly at the end, almost as if I weren’t supposed to hear it.

  "Why are you here then?"

  "Just maintaining appearances. Some of these guys help me manage my money, so they always extend an invitation, and I feel bad saying no."

  I drank quietly and listened to his words, not really sure of what to say. "I didn't really know anything about you," I admitted sheepishly. "Sam made a huge deal out of you, but I didn't—"

  "I could tell," he said.

  "What?" I suddenly felt bad about what I had just said. Somebody this famous probably was appalled that I didn't know anything about him.

  "You threw me off. I'm usually on top of things, but you were like a curve ball. You're not like any girl I've ever met before."

  I took a big gulp of my drink, my stomach doing cartwheels again. What was going on here? I had assumed he was such a womanizer, and yet here he was, assaulting me with an authenticity that made me weak in the knees. I wasn't even sure what he meant, but I wasn't about to ask.

  A lot of things were running through my mind at once, like a montage in a movie. I thought about Jesse, probably wondering what was going on between the famous guy and me. I thought about work, thought about how much the deal meant to Sam. I thought about myself and the stress that had led me here to New York City. And finally, the bizarre series of events that dumped me next to this rich, gorgeous man I knew so little about.

  "You look stunning tonight, Effie," he whispered, his words tickling my ear as his breath touched that delicate skin.

  I blushed again, breaking eye contact and not knowing what to say. "Thanks. Aren't you already dating some famous actress or something?" Jack's features tensed up. It actually looked as if I had offended him. "Effie, you're missing the point here. Do you really think I'd be here if that was all I cared about?”

  "I don't know," I said defensively. "I don't know anything about that. I barely know anything about you!" I sipped and waited.

  "For your information, I am single. I have been since the last Hollywood starlet I dated."

  "Stacy Levons?" I asked abruptly.

  He started laughing. "You don't know me, but of course you know Stacy."

  "I like her," I admitted. "A lot." It was an understatement, but I didn't want to sound crazy.

  "She's a great actor, but not great to be in a relationship with. Stacy's awesome, but she's always super busy with projects." He nursed his drink and then continued. "You probably don't believe me, but when you have access to Hollywood people, it's no longer the most exciting thing in the world. They're just like you are, flaws and everything. You stay together for the good press even when you hate the other's guts—well, for as long as you possibly can stand it. Breakups with Hollywood people are never simple."

  I did my best to look and be understanding, even though these were like problems from Mars to a simple gal like me.

  "What if you were around rich people like this all day and night? The supposed best of the best? Would you give a damn anymore?"

  A thought experiment for me, Jack, eh?

  "I guess not," I said honestly.

  "You probably loved the free food when you walked in. The good drinks. The old, sleazy men that make more in a second than you make per year."

  I nodded, following along with his game.

  "Okay, so you get my point, then? I'm tired of this, Effie." He made a grand swoop with his arm, effectively writing off the whole party. "I love my work, really I do. But this part drives me nuts. Talented people are talented people, one way or another. Some of these guys are just rich and think that because they're rich, they can call the shots when it comes to art. It's bullshit."

  I was quickly understanding his position. He had probably witnessed things that changed his life and perspective forever—and he'd never go back. "That sounds kind of unfair," I said humbly, "to the artists." I felt dumb when it came to this serious stuff.

  "If I wanted to make an album that's just nothing but belching from beginning to end, I could get some of these guys to fund it because my word means that much. They wouldn't even check on the progress. They'd write me a blank check and go back on vacation."

  I started laughing hysterically. "What about when they hear the final product?"

  "Oh, they'd be pissed. But I've made them millions—maybe even billions if you count touring revenue—so I'd get another chance. It's why I'm shopping around from now on. I want my artists to work with labels that give a damn about art, not just money."

  This was heavy philosophical stuff, and although I didn't know a lot about music, he sure as hell did. It felt like he was just looking out for those who had less of a voice than he did, sort of like a Robin Hood of the music industry.

  A few moments passed by where we both sat silently. He was thinking as hard as I was, but I had no idea where he'd go next.

  "Listen," he said. "I don't want to sound too forward or anything but please, Effie, come with me up to my suite. I want to show you something."

  My mind immediately thought the worst, and I let out an awkward laugh. "Jack, I just don't know if that's the best idea."

  "There's no pressure, okay? It would just mean a lot to me. I seriously just want to show you something. It's not a code word for anything else."

  God, I really didn't know what I should do. His intentions weren't clear at all, other than his remarks about it not being a big deal. He kept eyeing me, anxiously awaiting my response. I needed to do or say something, to end this tense moment of trepidation as soon as possible.

  "Yeah, okay," I said, hoping that I wouldn't regret my decision later. I finished the rest of my drink and left the glass on the bar, a relic of our conversation.

  "Let's go," he said softly. I stood up with him and we slowly walked together until we exited through a side door that led back into the lobby. My legs felt wobbly, so I was glad that our pace was so slow.

  The skeptic in me ran through every possible negative outcome while I continued along this strange path with him. My body appeared to be acting independently of my brain, not concerned one bit about the things my brain claimed could go wrong. Jack led me into the elevator.

  "Hi, Jack," the elevator attendant said. He reached over and pressed 42 before Jack said a thing.

  Jack immediately shook his hand and smiled at him. "Martin, how are you tonight?"


  "Just fine," he said with a nod. "And madam, how are you?"

  "Fine, thanks," I said, trying to remain as polite as possible. This guy was just doing his job, even if he didn't really care how I was doing. The door closed and then we ascended.

  There was silence for the first couple of floors, well, until I broke it. "You guys know each other well?" I asked.

  "Jack has a permanent suite," Martin said.

  "I like it here. A lot. Just wait until you see the view." Jack put his arm around the small of my back and pulled me close against him. My head fell slightly until it was resting against his chest. It was pure comfort.

  The ride was quick. A few short minutes later, the door was opening into the hall and Jack was tipping the attendant. "Thanks, Jack. Have a nice night, you two," he said. Once again, he was just being nice. However, I certainly hadn't planned on that moment being the last time I'd see Martin. I'd just see whatever Jack wanted to show me and then leave.

  Upon re-examination, I wasn't so sure I liked what Martin had said. It made me feel a little more like a number than a real girl.

  He disappeared behind us as the elevator door closed, and Jack took us into the hall. "Why do you have to tip the elevator guy?" I asked. "We could have run that elevator just fine."

  "It's just the way it is," Jack said. "They make a living like anyone else, only theirs is primarily from the tips of rich folks." I didn't have anything to say to that.

  After a short walk, we reached Jack's suite. He unlocked and opened the door and led me inside. The lights were out and the room happened to be very dark at that point. Light filled the room as he flipped the switch, the sheer beauty of the suite overwhelming. We were in a living room area that had a huge dining table.

  "Do you host a lot of dinners here?" I asked jokingly.

  "No, not really." He looked a little perplexed by my question.

  "Why don't you get a smaller suite then?" After noticing that there was a whole other, equivalent side to the room around the corner, my mind was blown even further.

  "They gave me a deal. Helps with business, I guess. They list me as a customer in some of the promotional materials."

  "Oh, so you're a sellout then?" I gave him a sardonic grin.

  "Whatever you want to call it is just fine. But hey, I'm happy with what I do, one way or another." He fiddled with the thermostat slightly and then led me toward the corner of the room. I was suddenly worried that I had offended him or something and not entirely sure why I should care so much.

  "So what did you want to show me?" I tried to sound as excited as possible to drown out the fact that my previous question may have been misinterpreted. He immediately perked up.

  "Are you ready?" He stood at the window, his hand on the lever to open the curtains.

  "Okay." I stood there with my hands at my sides, just waiting for whatever. It didn't look as if he were going to drop his pants—well, unless rich folks had levers that would do it for them. I wasn't sure.

  Jack pulled the curtains open, revealing an incredible view of the New York cityscape. "Come closer," he said.

  I stepped near the window and caught my breath. "This is incredible, Jack."

  "I'm still impressed even though I'm here a lot. Home away from home, I guess." He pointed toward the closest, biggest thing in view. "That's St. Patrick's Cathedral."

  The architecture was so classic and unique, so Gothic. It looked kind of like the centerpiece in a horror movie or something in a Stephen King novel. "That doesn't give you nightmares, does it?"

  He let out a small chuckle. "No. I live here with it. We've got to get along, you know."

  It honestly looked like a painting, the giant, sprawling buildings dotted with random little splotches of light. This was a view I was not used to, one that would have been difficult for me to obtain with my limited finances. It blew my mind that this lifestyle could exist, that all of this beauty was within reach only when huge sums of money were involved. Honestly, it was both disheartening and exhilarating.

  "Effie?" Jack's eyes met mine with utter intensity.

  "Huh?" I ended my gawking over the incredible view and turned to face him. Seeing it had softened me up, that was for sure.

  "You're absolutely beautiful." He kept his eyes trained on me, studying my face as if he were hypnotized.

  My brain was overloaded with thought and emotion. Sensory overload. In a way, it felt as if I had walked right into a trap. So many things were questionable about being here with Jack, but all sense had just fled from my brain, running away and hiding somewhere else. My body wanted something else entirely—and it was in this gorgeous room, right next to me.

  "Jack, I—" My heart had skipped so many beats that I didn't know what was going on anymore and feared that I might have died. I watched him approach me in slow motion, as if I were just a witness, not a participant. And then he pressed me against the wall, meeting my lips with a scorching kiss. Waves of pleasure rippled through me, instantly causing goose bumps on my skin. His tongue explored every interior surface of my mouth while his hands caressed my neck and gently traversed through the strands of my hair.

  My back to the wall, I felt his hardness pressing against my thigh, his uncontrolled lust fully represented by that single part of his body. Oh God, he wanted me—and I wanted him.

  Who was this guy? Who was I? The questions flickered and then went out like a dying light bulb. Who cared? I kissed him back as powerfully as he had kissed me, my decision to proceed so clear now. Oh yes, I wanted this. It felt so freeing after all that had led me to NYC. I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him close.

  Jack's hand lowered along my neck until he brushed my bare shoulder. He lightly cupped my breast, but something told me he wasn't about to stay there for long. Every touch was amplified, my lips kissing back in the exact way that he kissed me. Our tongues continued to twine and taste in a beautiful back and forth cadence.

  By that point, I was so wet, so obviously aroused that there was no way I could hide it. The need kept growing inside of me as I felt his fingers creeping down my side. I knew exactly where they were headed. Bright white heat flowed freely from my core to every other part of my body as dirty images filled my mind.

  Jack's hand hiked up my dress slightly, his fingers hungrily digging into the soft flesh of my thighs as he approached the elastic of my panties. He was exploring the soft curls of my mound, slowly moving toward that throbbing nub that was begging for his touch. His hardness seemed to grow as he found it.

  "God, your legs." He pulled my panties down until they were bunched at my knees, his efforts quick and focused.

  "Jack," I gasped, my voice a desperate whisper as I broke our kiss. I had no air left, my lungs fully deflated of that crucial substance and begging for more. His finger stroked my clit in tiny, minute circles that made me shiver with delight. My legs tightened around his hand as I dissolved against him. I had never been so sensitive to a man's touch before—either that, or Jack was really damn good at this. Maybe both were true.

  "Sweet, sweet, Effie," Jack whispered into my ear. I wanted to touch him, but I was so lost in bliss that I couldn't keep things straight in my mind. I wanted to stroke that stiff cock of his, to touch him like he was touching me. In a way though, he just wasn't letting it happen.

  I felt the pressure change from his index finger to his thumb as he parted my moist folds with two fingers, stretching me to his liking. He started to slowly finger-fuck me, purposely starting slow so that I had to savor it and drown in the sweet torture of waiting. His fingers pressed against my g-spot with so much precision I couldn't believe it. I knew his hand was probably drowning in my juices by this point, and the thought only made me wetter.

  My eyes were closed, and despite my incredible desire to watch his face as he did this to me, I couldn't open them. I was against the wall, stuck there as he did whatever he wished in that dreamlike moment.

  Tiny cries of pleasure escaped from me as he started to push
me toward a climax that was so apparent, so close. He was breathing almost as deeply as I was, his mouth right next to my ear, forcing me to listen.

  Jack kept circling and fucking me with his adroit fingers, my body trembling with delight. I was inching closer and closer, the process so expedited by his skill. Oh God, I needed this, needed it so badly. It felt as if it had been so long and honestly, it made me realize how sexually deprived I was. And then Jack stopped and I almost screamed.

  "Please," I begged, my body at an enormous tipping point. This was such a private thing to be doing with him, but dammit, I just didn't care. My mind was on vacation—and now my body was in charge.

  "Effie," he said. "Be assertive. Tell me what you want."

  "Jack, no games," I whined, dodging the words he wanted me to say.

  He resumed his motion for a few quick strokes and I felt everything rushing back—until he was teasing me again.

  "Jack!" My cheeks were flushed red and my body wouldn't shut up. I couldn't believe I was doing this with him, couldn't believe how far I had lowered my defenses in this carnal moment.

  "Look me in the eyes and tell me what you want." I complied and opened my eyes. He was there, so beautiful and perfect, demanding my eye contact. "Tell me," he said again.

  "I want..." I wasn't used to talking like this and trailed off. This was so dirty, so salacious.

  "What do you want, Effie?" Jack's inquisition was tireless, but in the best possible way.

  "I want to..." Could I actually talk like this?

  "You want to come?" he added.

  "Yes!" I said, my voice so desperate. He couldn't stop now, no way. He had to keep going...

  "Say it!"

  "I want to come!" Those words I meant more than anything I had ever said prior to that in my life. Jack delivered.

  His hand sprang to life, pushing me right off a cliff. My back hit the wall hard, my pussy twitching rapidly around his fingers. He kept right against my g-spot, pulling with that come hither motion that made me so weak in the knees.