by Alexia Stone
“Good…for now.” He went into a room and came back with a towel, handing it to me. I looked around and realized that this was a private bedroom/workout room of some sort. It was spacious, the size of a suite in a hotel room, one side had a few work out machines, and the other side looked like a bedroom. “If I didn’t have in a meeting in an hour, I would fuck you…all day, in all the ways I want you.”
I blushed. “Oh.”
Planting both of his hands on either side of me, against the wall, he said, “Go take a shower. I am going to be in the other stall. Everything you need should be in there. Don’t leave here without me.”
“Let’s say I am not here after we’re both showered?” I questioned. Using three of those talented fingers that were inside me not too long ago, he grazed his nails on both sides of my jaw, tracing one finger on my chin, the scent of sex on his fingers
“When you’re with me, you do as I want or we part ways,” he responded simply, like I asked him if it’s raining or not outside.
He brought me to my toes again. I grasped his arms in my hands. “Uh-huh. And you think I’ll do whatever you want? ‘Let me get some bang for my buck?’” I knew that this was just a fuck. When I said that I would stay with him, I knew what that entailed, what he expected from me. I woke up earlier today, sure that I was going to begin a more carefree lifestyle. Now, life handed me the opportunity to accept it—gracefully or not.
“Wrong. First, you’ll know when I bang you. Second, must I keep reminding you that I don’t need to buy sex? I saw you here. I own this yoga studio”—he looked around the room and opened his arms, obviously pleased—“and I wanted you.” There wasn’t a trace of arrogance in his tone; he was just stating the truth.
“I wanted you too,” I admitted, relieved that I wasn’t a random thing to get him off.
“Wanted?” My face fell flat and he straightened his posture.
“I still want you,” I said meekly, frustrated that I was aroused again, feeling the slickness between my thighs once more. Unable to deny myself, I looked down and saw his proud erection jutting in front of me.
He held my face in his hands, as if unaware of his growing arousal. “I respect you, for your trust in me. There’s no reason for you to trust me.” He dryly chuckled. “I know that this is beyond orthodox. This is your first time, having sex with a stranger, right?” His eyebrows reached his hairline, the realization salient in his stern face. I nodded my confirmation. “I need to know that I can trust you to listen to me. I am listening to you, what you say and what you don’t say.”
“Do you have any sexually transmitted infections?” I asked bluntly, verbalizing the concern that entered my mind.
“No, I don’t.”
“Aren’t you going to ask about me?!” Was he that unconcerned about his own sexual health not to ask?
“Do you have any STD’s?” he asked me.
“No, I don’t.”
“Good. Now that we have that important exchange of information out of the way, I need to make something clear to you. Whatever you don’t want to happen, won’t. For whatever reason, we’re drawn to each other. Be very clear, you want to see me again, you’re under my command.”
My throat itched and the blood circulation in my legs stopped; I felt numb. Certainly, he was joking with me. “Under your command,” I uttered with a snort.
Moving closer to me, he draped one hand on the back of my neck, and I almost nuzzled against him. Eyes narrowed at me, excitement and a bit of fear skittered from the hollow of my shoulders down to my spine. No matter how much I wanted to glance away from him in order to collect my thoughts, his touch made me listen to him carefully. “My mood dictates,” His voice softened, the potency of it didn’t dissipate, “how our time is spent together.” There was a glint in his eyes, an unapologetic crease at the corners of them, almost like a smile.
“But isn’t that a major mind fuck?” My heart sped up.
There was a pause. “Life is about taking one mind-fuck at a time and knowing what to do with it.”
I took the keys that he dropped on the floor, put on my workout my pants and tank top. Turning to his inscrutable face, I said, “Thank you for your time. We both served our own purposes.”
Stunning myself into silence, I left. I went to the locker, retrieved my belongings, slipped into my flats, and sped out of the yoga facility. I couldn’t help feeling like I made a major mistake. Yet, I didn’t think I could handle being his yo-yo. My emotions were all over the place as it was.
***
Showered and dressed in another set of bras and underwear courtesy of Mateja, I read my e-mails and was delighted to have some inquiries for phone interviews. I had to help Brayden with the bills. It didn’t matter that he told me not to worry about it or that he refused the money that I gave him. One stranger, Mateja gave me the gift of not having to buy my wardrobe, even if the cost was that I felt a little unsure of myself. Okay, very unsure of myself.
Quietly, Brayden came in, holding his dry cleaned clothes in one hand, and a paper tray with two large sized coffees in his other hand. After he placed the tray on the table and set his clothes away, he patted me on my back.
“Good morning to you!” I feigned amazement.
“Hey Becca!” He sat down and took a huge gulp of his coffee. I did miss caffeinated coffee. I figured that my sugar/starch addiction was enough to manage. Plus, I loved tea more.
“Did you have a nice, long, and satisfying date last night…or was it into this morning?” I arched a brow at him, mocking uncertainty.
He spat out his coffee, almost getting me directly in my eyes.
“I was just teasing you.”
He exhaled a relief sigh. “I had a good date.”
I smiled at him. “I am happy that you had a good time,” I told him honestly because it was clear from reading his letters and hearing his voice that his conscientiousness could make him tense. After indulging in a deep swig of my latte, I went on, “You deserve to be happy.” I almost reached out to him, but he tensed. “Are you scared because you had a good time with a female other than Sarah?” He slid me a discomfited glance, evidently feeling guilty with himself. “Both of you agreed to separate,” I reminded him.
“Thing is that I don’t know if it was really right to have a good time with another woman.” Sighing deeply with frustration, he continued, “And I don’t know what I want right now.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. That’s what this separation is about, figuring what you want and what to do,” I tried to assure him, despite the fact that I was in no position to hand out assurances.
“Yeah, I know. But it sounds easy.” He ran his fingers on his cup of coffee. “How’d you know…I was on a date anyway? I could’ve been hanging out or—“
Raising my eyebrows at him, I interjected: “Even though I can clearly smell that you showered and are dressed in clean clothes, the bite marks on the back of your neck tell me a different story. I figured…you and… Sarah or someone else.”
“No wonder Luego looked at me funny in the lobby when I came in earlier this morning. And I didn’t even do the walk of shame. No ducking my head, or covering my face with a hoodie…He loves Sarah.”
“No surprise there. Everyone love Sarah, with the exception of mom, of course.”
“True. Where’d you go this morning anyway?”
“I left my phone here.” I playfully snarled at him. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
He leaned forward, peering at me seriously. “Because you’re my sister, the only one I have left, I am gonna be concerned about you” His voice grew thick. “You didn’t answer me.” He reclined back into his chair powerfully, a serious side to him that I didn’t expect. Maybe he did have some backbone in his relationship with Sarah. I couldn’t refrain from giving him a prideful smirk.
“I went for a walk and then I went to yoga,” I told him a half truth.
He coughed. “Really?”
“Reall
y.” I smacked him on his shoulder and he chuckled.
***
On the wide roof of one of the biggest suites in United hotel, I had a wonderful view of the tall surrounding buildings amid nearby trees. Once Brayden entered the room, people hustled around him, cleaning his face with wipes, combing through his blonde hair, and they removed his shirt for him like he couldn’t do it himself. Despite all of this, he wasn’t frazzled, and he adjusted very quickly. He was in his own zone—all business. He invited me go with him and I thought it was a great opportunity to see him in action.
Beautiful waifish models, who each probably came from the seven continents, swarmed Brayden and one of the other male models. I could understand any possible concerns or feelings of inadequacy on Sarah’s part. This was never-ending walking, bending, laying, and barely dressed female temptation. I couldn’t believe how much work went into the lighting, the make-up, and arranging the room to highlight the clothes, not glamorous like I thought it would be. There was something alluring about being on the highest level of the building. It made me think about what I wore underneath my gray blouse and jeans; I squirmed, my nipples and my sex still very sensitive.
Now I knew why Larissa came home tired after modeling many days: acting in many stilled captions could be exhausting. Brayden and some of the other models were truly professionals. The photographer didn’t have to give much direction; they were in their own element, a product of good fine-tuning and the best agencies.
As I watched Brayden in his different poses, able to execute various emotions naturally, he easily became another man. I was proud by how good he was. This wasn’t just a job for him, a way for him to prance away, being effortlessly handsome. Quite honestly, a few of the models there were more handsome than he was, but most of them didn’t exude the natural ability to look like a small town boy to a striking starving artist, to a man who amassed an empire for different captions. For the first time, Brayden wasn’t just my brother; he was a person, who like me, was trying to make sense of his life. And this person was a talented model.
We left ahead of schedule. On our way out in the lobby, I couldn’t seem to stop admiring the earthy tones of the walls and the well-placed furniture, along with its sophistication. With my arm linked with Brayden’s, I breathed contentedly. He stopped me, looking above my head.
“What’s wrong, Bray?” His mouth thinned. Then, he protectively brought his heavy hand on my shoulder.
“This guy—“I turned to see who he was, but he stopped me—“has been looking at us since we came out from the elevator. He just signaled us to wait.”
I opened my mouth to protest on being manhandled for the second time in one day when someone cleared his voice loudly.
“Mister,” Brayden said sternly. Not realizing that I held my breath in for so long, I heaved as I pulled in oxygen to my abused lungs and strained muscles.
“Good Afternoon. I am Mateja Guvo, owner of this hotel.” He bared his teeth, not smirking, or grimacing. I looked at Brayden, fearing he knew that I had very intimate knowledge of this man. “I just came from a meeting and thought I should say hello,” he said casually. “You brought a…female friend with you.” He sounded surprised. Why was Mateja acting like this? Why did he go through the trouble to find out why my brother and I were there? This was just too convenient; the second time in one day that I crossed paths with him. He was the last person I expected to see again, especially after that power trip thing that he tried on me.
“I am Brayden. Just came from a shoot. Is there a problem?”
Mateja turned me around, brushing Brayden’s hands off my shoulders. He gave Brayden a tight smile and I wrapped my arms tightly around myself. Brayden looked irate. He wasn’t an irascible person; I knew that much about him.
“No problem at all. You’ve had work here before, right?”
“Yeah, a few times.” Brayden looked confused by the question.
“You’ve never brought guest here before, especially no one as divine as her.”
Brayden’s mouth slackened and then he erupted in roaring laughter. I didn’t know whether or not he laughed because Mateja confused me as his girlfriend, or because he thought I was divine, or both. I decided not to take offense either way. The unspoken aggression between the both of them was suffocating. In the midst of the traffic in the lobby, some guests glanced at us.
Mateja scowled at him. The roaring laughter came to an abrupt end. “Something I said funny?” Mateja brushed his fingers in the middle of my inner arm, forcing everything in me not to moan. I wouldn’t have pegged the tender skin on my inner arm as an erogenous zone. Adding to my struggle with self-control, my insides went molten. Perfect time and place for this, in front of my brother!
Furrowing his eyebrows, he gawked at Mateja’s fingers on me and he pulled me by his side. “With all do respect…You’re mistaken,”—He stood in front of me—“I don’t know who you think my sister is. Don’t put your hands on her again.”
Two tall men, in casual clothing, and built like brick-house WWE fighters rushed into Brayden’s face out of nowhere.
“Everything is fine,” Mateja told them. They loosened their grip on Brayden, who didn’t flinch. “A misunderstanding.” The two men nodded at him and dispersed into the crowd. I tried to track where they went, but I couldn’t. Just as swiftly as they came, they exited.
“I thought she was your companion,” he said, as if that was enough of an explanation for his rude and domineering behavior.
“Why would it matter if she was my companion or not?” Brayden finally asked, taken aback. “I know that you own this hotel, and we’ve done shoots here, but I won’t accept you confusing my sister for someone she’s not!” I couldn’t love Brayden more in that moment for his protectiveness over me, but all his energy was misplaced and as their exchange continued, I realized that I did a poor job of handling this confrontation.
“Very well, then,” Mateja conceded. Darting his eyes over me, he moved farther away from me. “Rebecca, a moment, please?”
Brayden’s eyes widened in alarm, his mouth opened in a muted gasp, rapidly changing into a disbelieving look of sadness mixed to anger washing over his face. I flinched, never experiencing such disappointment from him. “Bray,” I said solemnly. “It’s fine. I know him.”
Making a moue of disapproval, he took a seat on the nearby chair. “I’ll be waiting, Rebecca.” I cringed under the dour sound of his voice and the use of my first name.
I walked side by side with Mateja, following him and his two bodyguards. To anyone else, like his bodyguards, he was impassive, but his dark brown eyes conveyed a mix of emotions that I couldn’t divine. Sharp in his pin strip tailored suit, he definitely gave the impression that he was a power-player. I wondered when he owned this hotel or how he came to own it.
“I didn’t ask the front for his last name. There’s absolutely no resemblance,” he said in a suspiciously calm tone.
“So that excuses your behavior? Let’s say, he wasn’t my brother?” I temporarily stopped and his bodyguards gestured me to follow Mateja. “Who do you think you are?!
Ignoring my question, with pride, he stated, “I like him. Obviously, he takes his role seriously.” His bodyguards briefly looked at each other, equally surprised that I questioned him about his behavior and by him complimenting my brother.
We walked into a small sitting room, with three chairs, a small marble oval shaped table, and photographs and signatures of celebrities who stayed at that the hotel on the center wall. The room was an oddly nondescript and barren in comparison to the grandeur and the décor of the other rooms that I saw in the hotel. Tilting his head at his bodyguards, they immediately left.
“Why am I here?”
“Because you followed me in here.”
Pivoting on the heel of my feet, I strode to the door. I was still fuming from mixed messages and I didn’t want to play games. Mateja pulled me from behind, molding to me like a glove. The feel of his chin on the crow
n of my head brought me to a daze. Every pore on the surface of my body absorbed the dense air in the room. I inhaled the crisp scent of his aftershave and the minty breath feathered over my ear. Lost to the feel of his muscular and hard chest over my back, I involuntarily nestled my head against him. No longer frustrated or angry, I began making circles on the front of his hand with the pad of my index finger.
His hold over me relaxed and I wanted to turn around, give him a leer. “Did you think you’d be able to get a hold of me when you left?” He asked with an edge of humor.
Forcing me to acknowledge his virility, he brushed his hardness against the small of my back and I bit the inside of my cheek in an attempt to erase the pleasure that it gave me. I wanted to wrap my arms around him.
Mateja molded my swollen breasts into the palm of his hands over my shirt, releasing my breasts from my bra, the silk material felt abrasive on my nipples as he pinched and kneaded them. A feeling of sexual electricity traveled all over my body. I rubbed my rear against his rigid pelvis. My body felt a light tingle when he slowed down, our breaths already heavy.