by P. Roper
I returned to the venue the next day, trying to exchange my red mask for a black one. I craved the modicum of distance the cases would give me. I didn’t want to be touched. They made an allowance to relegate me to a case, provided it was one of the four that made up the physical corners of the bar. Between the new location, just steps away from the stage I had descended from and the condition that I had to keep my red mask, my hopes of blending in were dashed.
I was thankful that N never returned. The stranger did though, immediately noticing my relocation and tilting his head at me curiously. I either didn’t get a call that night or people had just been informed I was not up as an option. I had a feeling it was the latter. The event was coming to a close. There was only one night left and what had happened with N solidified it for me. I knew it would be my last showcase.
Chapter 3
In my glass case, I ran my hands over my unnaturally straight hair as I swayed slightly to the music pouring through the speakers. A soft smile graced my face as I closed my eyes briefly, reminding myself that this is it. The last time I’ll stand here, almost naked, in a glowing glass box.
Re-centered for my last night here my eyes opened. I immediately found myself locked into a crystal gaze. Eyes so blue they almost look unnatural, holding me captive. It’s the stranger; the one I’d seen all week. He raised the drink in his hand in toast, before downing the remaining amber liquid and turning to walk away.
At the halfway mark of my night my number was called through my earpiece. A handler retrieved me for what should have been a scheduled break, but I was led to the stairs and given a room number. Having a moment of panic, I asked the handler for details.
“Honey, the guy dropped 50 grand and asked to see you for five minutes. The whole 50 is yours, if you walk up those stairs and through the first door on your left.” He shrugged and gestured in the direction I should head.
I ascended the staircase stopping only once my hand rested on the doorknob. I took a calming breath and swung it open. Clients were never in the rooms before we were, but he was. Leaning against the arm of a couch in the otherwise empty room, hands in his pockets and watching the crowd below him through the glass floor. A gasp escaped my mouth and he looked up. His tousled dirty blonde curls fell over his forehead as his eyes met mine. A smile of perfectly straight teeth, framed with deep dimples drew me into the room. Pulling the door closed behind me, I couldn’t break eye contact.
It was him, the stranger with the azure eyes. I found myself momentarily lost for words, mouth opening and closing like a damn fish, before blinking and attempting again. “Hi, um, what can I do for you?” I asked, taking a tentative step forward.
He stood and took his own step towards me. Rocking back on his heels and clasping his tongue between his teeth, he looked mostly uncomfortable to be here. As I took in his towering height, he spoke in a timbre I didn’t quite expect.
“I want to make you an offer. To do something sort of unconventional,” he began, running a hand through his hair.
“How unconventional are we talking,” I asked, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “I mean, I’ve seen some things…” I let the statement hang with a tilt of my head. He knew what I meant.
“A million, plus all standard expenses paid. For one year. I’m in the market to fill a position and you fit the bill. You would be my right hand. Attending to all my needs, in more ways than one. And you will need to move into my estate outside of Boston.”
“A million? Plus room and board at your estate? To be, what, an assistant?” The questions poured out of me but I was sort of baffled. Who was this guy? I mean he couldn’t be that terrible. I knew for a fact that this venue vetted everyone before granting them permission to walk through the door. His offer was ridiculous. But after just over two years of doing this job, I couldn’t help but think that this would be my out.
“Yes. Well, sort of. My life in its entirety actually takes a team. But you would manage some of the, uh, finer details. In addition, you would live and travel with me, and be at my beckon call. You would do anything I need of you.” A grin broke across his painfully handsome face then, quickly transforming into another fully dimpled smile. “Anything,” he repeated. “Nothing illegal though, I swear. I checked.” He attempted to assure me, with a low chuckle.
I searched his eyes a moment and shook my head once. What did I have to lose? “Deal,” I stated, sticking my hand out between us to seal our verbal agreement. He grabbed it, pulling me into him. Wrapping his hand around my jaw and the back of my neck, he bent to kiss me. Forcefully at first, relaying that he meant business. But then he softened, ran a hand down my side gently and swiped his tongue along the seam of my lips, requesting entrance. I granted it, tangling my own tongue with his. A groan rumbled from him and he pulled my whole body flush with his for a moment.
Pulling away, he smiled before leaning back in to give me a final chaste peck. “Welcome to the beginning of the most interesting year of your life, Miss Woods.” His smile grew before he took my hand and turned to leave the room.
He was headed for the exit when I stopped in my tracks, suddenly remembering something. “Wait! I need my bag and my phone. Personal effects?” I glanced down at my still nearly-naked form. “And maybe some clothes? Plus if I’m heading back to the states, don’t I need stuff? Like my passport? And what about my apartment and my things?”
He took pause at this, glancing at the ceiling briefly, in thought. “What’s your address? I already had someone obtain your effects from this venue, but you are correct about leaving the country.” He shrugged out of his suit jacket. “Here, put this on to get to the car. I will have someone gather some essentials at your residence and meet us at the tarmac. Good?”
He searched my face before I nodded, taking and donning the jacket. “Now, that address? And any critical items you may need immediately? I will have a company go pack up your things. We’ll close out your lease and ship everything stateside in the coming days. But we have a plane to catch in an hour.” Re-gathering my hand, he led me out the back exit to a waiting blacked-out town car. I prattled off my address and a handful of my most important belongings while I slid into the car behind him. With one hand rested firmly on my bare thigh and the other holding a phone against his sharp jaw, he repeated my address and my list word for word, to whoever was on the other end. Items and locations. I wondered if that person’s job would be my job one day. He thanked the person on the other end of the line before hanging up and reaching into the passenger seat, pulling my satchel from it. He made very intentional eye contact as he handed it to me.
“Before we get too far, here are your things from the venue. And before it’s time to exit the car; what is your first name, Miss Woods? Because I assume it’s not actually Dee.”
“Deliah. It’s Deliah Woods,” I said with a smile of my own. It was the first time I had spoken my real first name since I moved to Amsterdam. It felt good, albeit a little foreign in my mouth.
He returned my smile. “It is a pleasure to know you, Deliah. I’m Nathaniel Halstead. You can call me Nathaniel or Nate, whichever you prefer. But never Mr. Halstead. That is reserved for older generations in my family.” I nodded as I tested both names out in my head, unsure of which I would feel more comfortable using. Clients never had names, only Sir or Ma’am. Except N, but we only knew him as that. And I didn’t really keep friends because my life was too complicated (and mostly frowned upon) to explain. His hand sliding up my thigh pulled me from my contemplation and we locked gazes as his pinkie finger grazed my soaked lace panties. “Hmm. Eager? I like that.” And with a flick of a glance to my lips, his mouth descended on mine, starved.
I returned his feverish kisses. His hands began roaming my bare skin beneath his jacket that I still had draped around me, sparking an unfamiliar fire in my belly. A gasp escaped my lips as his thumbs grazed my nipples. The pads were slightly rough against my sensitive flesh. But just as his index fingers and thumbs cam
e together with the intent of rolling each nipple between them, the car came to a stop.
He broke contact with my skin as the driver cleared his throat. “Nate, we are on the tarmac. However the plane has yet to taxi over and we are still awaiting the arrival of Miss Woods’ belongings to enable her air clearance. I will step out and track down an ETA for both. Listen for my tap on the window to signal that everything is in order to depart.” And with that, he slid out of his seat and closed the driver’s side door behind him.
The moment the door shut, Nathaniel (yes I decided on his full name. If I wanted him to call me my actual name, I saw it fitting to not shorten his) pulled me into his lap. My legs straddled his thighs as the majority of each of us deliciously pressed together. His hands found my breasts again, resuming their interrupted objective. His mouth met my neck as my body hummed of its own volition.
His mouth made its way toward my nipple as his hand skimmed down my stomach, eliciting goose bumps to rise on my skin. His tongue flicked out at my nipple while his fingers peeled the damp lace from my skin, before making me realize how innately sensual the sound of lace tearing was. More and more heat pooled at my core while his nimble fingers stroked me. His mouth switched to sucking at my other breast as he shifted us. Gaining the access he sought from the shift, he slipped one finger into my core, pumping a few times before adding a second. A moan fell from my mouth as I rode his capable hand. This man was going to light me aflame and I was about to let him. His mouth made its way back up my neck and rested at the sensitive spot just below my ear. “Come,” he whispered as his thumb pressed hard on my clit. I fell apart, rolling my hips as I rode out the orgasm. When my breathing began to sound less like panting, he slid his fingers out of me and brought them to his mouth. Sucking the taste of me off of them without breaking eye contact, he groaned deeply.
When his fingers left his mouth, I tried to shift off his lap. I couldn’t come without returning the gesture. But he stopped me with gentle hands and a shake of his head. He smirked and in the same moment, someone tapped on the window. “There will be time, but not now. Close the jacket around yourself, you’re even more naked now.” Opening the door he slid out into the darkness, but returned a hand into the space he had vacated to help me out of the car.
We hurried across the tarmac and up the steps to the clearly private jet. He allowed me to choose my own seat from the half a dozen scattered across the plane before settling in beside me. He turned to me, obviously noting the wonder with which I looked around the space. As a comfortable smile took over his features he laced our fingers together, tipped his head back and closed his eyes. “Get some rest Deliah. Your life is about to look vastly different.”
Chapter 4
There is something startling about waking up the first morning in a new environment. Especially waking to a name you haven’t heard aloud in years.
“Deliah?” The first whisper, I was positive was in my head. “Deliah, I need you to be awake.” That time was definitely not a dream. I felt the weight of the arm slung over my waist and a hand caress my cheek. I opened my eyes abruptly and glanced around. Rolling over under that arm, I found myself face to face with a very awake but tired-looking Nathaniel.
“Hey,” my half-asleep voice croaked. “What is it?” I was desperately trying to gain coherent thought. While I was struggling to pull myself awake, he took a deep breath before crashing his desperate mouth to mine.
He kissed me frantically for a moment before pulling back. Framing my face with both his palms, he stared at me. “I can’t get you out of my head. I need to know more and I need to feel you again. I’ve been lying here, debating whether to wake you for hours now. But you looked so peaceful, sleeping as if you haven’t slept soundly for ages.”
He wasn’t wrong. We were lying in quite possibly the most comfortable bed I had ever encountered and he was warm and comforting in a way I couldn’t quite describe. “Um. Sure, okay. What would you like to know? Any particular questions? Or would you rather get to the second part of your reasoning?” I grinned. The man was like nothing I had ever experienced. So confident and aware. Yet here he was, definitely unsure. Maybe he wasn’t used to sharing a bed? Or maybe it was bothering him that it was a practical stranger he was sharing it with. I mean, there wasn’t much speaking on his private plane. The memory of essentially becoming a frequent flier member of the mile high club all in one overnight flight was still in the forefront of my mind.
With a lazy expression and demeanour, he shifted. Rolling onto his back he pulled the top half of my body to rest across him. My face angled to look up at him. Rapid-fire questions shot from his mouth. “Who are you, Deliah Woods? How did you end up where I found you? What do you love the most in this world? Is that your natural hair colour? I have no means of comparison.” He chuckled to himself. “Why did you agree to my offer? Hell, I don’t even know how old you are.” His eyes sought mine in the dark. So many more questions lingering in them.
I tilted my head considering his queries and licked my lips. I huffed out a sort of laugh, “Well, I am in fact Deliah Woods. I was born in Connecticut, an army brat. My mother died in her sleep when I was too young to remember and my father was on active duty. He moved around a lot. I was raised by base after base until I was sixteen. He shipped out for his fifth tour in my lifetime and came home a year later, in a flag-wrapped wooden box.” I paused to shake my head.
“The flag presented to me at his funeral and their wedding rings are actually in the wooden chest on my immediately needed possessions list. I finished high school as my own guardian went to college in New York, burying myself under a mountain of debt.” He was so still, intently listening as I recited the Cliffs notes version of my life for the first time ever. “I have an undergrad degree in comparative literature from NYU. But without the Masters that I couldn’t afford, I was jobless and living credit card to credit card for a year.
“I was reading in the coffee shop in the Bronx, where I worked and some random person interrupted me to ask if I was contracted. By the end of business that day, I was. To that agent. Six weeks of catalogue and ad modeling gigs later, I was approached for a racy editorial piece. That turned into nude modeling, which turned into live art showcases. As I moved up, so did my income. I was able to pay down some of my debt quickly. Then an opportunity to do showcases in Amsterdam presented itself and I couldn’t turn it down. I was so tired of New York. Europe’s culture called to me and the money was double what I was making. I’ve been showcasing just over two years. It’s definitely a lifestyle, especially in Amsterdam where it’s 100% legal, organized and regulated.”
By that point I had to sit up. I needed to not be so comfortable in that moment. I reminded myself that this was another job. Longer term, different conditions. But still another job. Casting a glance around the room my eyes land on a wall of bookshelves. “I love literature,” I smile to myself. “Words, so simply strung together. One after another, creating intricate journeys that have the power to move even the most stubborn of souls.” At that he sat up across from me with an almost profound look on his face. Leaning forward as he knelt there, he grabbed my legs and pulled them toward his own.
“Please keep talking about your words?” The request was quiet and simple. But as he said it, his warmer-than-me hands dragged their way up from my ankles to my thighs. The sensation made me shiver slightly.
“Not to sound kitschy or cliché but Dumbledore said once, ‘Words are, in my not so humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic; capable of both inflicting injury and remedying it.’” He trailed open mouthed kisses on my inner thighs with each word that left my mouth. I felt the smile grace his face at my mention of the timeless character. “And I believe nothing truer has ever been written.” He licked along the crease of my leg, breath landing heavy on my sensitive skin. “Words wield more power than anything. Even,” he nudged my knees further apart. My voice was coming out in breathy bursts now. “Money,” his ton
gue flicked my clit and my eyes rolled back. “Time,” his tongue traced down and back up my center. I bit my lip, making eye contact with him. “And sex,” he sucked my clit tight between his lips, pushing deep into my core with two rigid fingers. I gasped and dropped onto my elbows as my head fell back. His tongue never stopped moving. While he slid his digits in and out of me in quick succession, he crooked his fingers at just the right angle. It wasn’t long before I cried out as I came apart, covering his face and hand in myself. I rode it out, waves pulsing through my body. Still panting I found his face. A satisfied smirk slid across it, as he drew his arm across his mouth.
“I thought I asked that you keep going?” He said, crawling up toward my face.
With a quirk of my eyebrow I contemplated. Before I had made my decision, the words, “Well, I never asked you to stop either,” escaped out of my mouth. My eyes grew wide but he bellowed out a laugh.
“Who says I’m done?” Was his only response before he kissed me. He pulled back once more and chuckled a bit. “Your passion is sexier than you realize. I would urge you to keep moving on with aiding me in getting to know you though. I still have unanswered questions and only one of us has come. Even then it was only once. And I’m a believer that that simply isn’t acceptable.” Then he sat back on his heels, still between my legs and waited.