by K L Rymer
A path was made for him, which may sound impossible in such a busy city like London, but my eyes don’t deceive me. It was like he exuded some mysterious power, consuming every space he entered, and people felt it. It made me think of a shark swimming through a school of fish. It was almost predatory, and it cried out to everything female in me.
There was nothing more tempting than a sexy, powerful man, and again I was curious to see what was under that perfectly tailored suit. I know he had muscles; I’d felt them when I pressed my cheek against his hard chest the night of our first date, as well as his beating heart.
Eli was all lean muscle though. I’m not into the whole macho body-builder type, like a human rhinoceros. I still like my men graceful, to an extent. But I knew he was strong, and I bet your bottom dollar he was an excellent fighter too.
However, it did make me feel self-conscious of my own body. I wasn’t fat by any chance. I was all soft, doughy muscle (but in a cute kind of way, like the Pillsbury Doughboy). I know some of the girls he’d gone out with were athletically built, and I cringed at the thought of him seeing me naked.
Would he recoil when he laid eyes on my cellulite? I didn’t have a lot, but still, there was some. No one’s perfect.
“So, did you like the play?” he asked, distracting me from my thoughts.
Somehow, we ended up along the Victoria Embankment, not far from Big Ben. We have a perfect view of the London Eye.
It’s a beautiful summer evening, the setting sun glistening upon the River Thames.
I gaze up at him. He keeps his eyes ahead, an aloof look on his handsome face, but I’ve known him long enough now to know that was his normal expression.
I wasn’t too sure if he had liked the play. There was a lot of singing involved, but I found it enthralling. I lived for musicals after all (I am studying musical theatre), but Eli had kept silent beside me all night.
“I loved it,” I reply. “It’s... kind of what I wish to do one day...”
Eli looks down at me, his expression unreadable. “You want to sing on stage?”
“Well, I hope too. But...”
“But what?”
I sigh, looking across the river. “It’s not that easy. I have to overcome the biggest hurdle in my way first: stage fright. And then after that, I have to get a casting director to like me. Plus, it’s a very competitive industry.”
“Well, you won’t know unless you actually sing for them.”
I close my eyes guiltily. “It’s... something I’m working on. The sad thing is, I passed my first year of college with flying colours. I just don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Eli stops and gazes down at me with those impassive eyes, and it’s like he’s assessing my very soul.
People circle around us, like water flowing around a rock, but I can’t take my eyes away from Eli’s.
They really are the colour of a raincloud. But beyond that raging storm, I see a small ray of hope, bursting to get through, and I stare, mesmerised.
What could Eli possibly hope for?
Finally, I break the contact, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. “So... how about you? You ever had a dream?”
He blinks down at me for a few moments, and it appears I’ve rendered him speechless. But then he gives a long, heavy sigh, closing his eyes. “No.”
A lump forms in my throat. I’ve never heard anything more heart-breaking. At least everyone alive has a dream of some kind. Whether that be marriage, to fall in love, or have children. It’s what makes us human after all.
“Not one?”
He shakes his head, and sadness flickers through those storm cloud eyes. But it soon disappears, and he puts on that robotic mask again.
We move off.
Now I start thinking about Eli’s childhood. What kind of life had he truly led? I feel I have some idea, such as private schools and country clubs, but what was his relationship like with his family? I knew he had a father and a cousin, but there was never any mention of anyone else. He must’ve had a mother.
“What were you like growing up?” I ask.
He looks down from the corner of his eye. “A little spoilt brat.”
I widen my eyes. “Oh... well, I appreciate your honesty...”
He changes the subject now, glancing at me curiously. “And yourself?”
A sigh leaves my lips. “Shy, small. A bit of a loner. Other kids were cruel to me.”
“American high schools do seem brutal on television.”
I giggle. “Trust me, they’re far worse. It’s not like you would have had a hard time, anyway. You’d instantly be the most popular boy at any school. The jocks wouldn’t even have anything on you, and the cheerleaders would be constantly throwing themselves at you.”
A hint of a smile forms over his lips. “Well, boarding school’s no walk in the country either. The friends you do have only like you because you have money, but slutty cheerleaders do sound like fun. I went to an all boys’ school.”
I arch a brow, giving a slight smirk. “Is that why you grew up to become a professional playboy? To make up for years of lost opportunity?”
His eyes glint with humour. “My, you’re on fire tonight, aren’t you? Sarcasm? Really not like you.”
I scrunch up my nose then pull my tongue at him. He rolls his eyes. “So immature.”
I laugh and several people glimpse my way, but I don’t care. Eli just brings out the free-spirited side to me.
Droplets fall down from the sky next, and then the weather takes a turn for the worst. That was one of the other major changes I had to quickly adapt to once moving to the UK. The rain.
Louisiana doesn’t rain near as much.
It comes down hard, despite the radiant sunshine, and now it’s like the devil’s beating his wife (something my grandma used to say).
Some people get out their umbrellas and just get on with it, a true testament to their British upbringing, but Eli and I, however, are getting soaked like a pair of tourists.
We hurry up the street, looking for somewhere to keep dry. Bus shelters are full to the brim, but we do find a red phone box.
It’s empty.
We look at each other and shrug, and approach the phone box. Eli opens the door, letting me inside first. Then he follows in after, and we squeeze inside the cramped space.
My back’s pressed up against the inside window, and now I have a perfect view of Eli’s chest.
We really are close. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. The windows begin to steam up, and immediately I think of that car scene in Titanic. My head spins.
“I could call James to come and pick us up. But we could still be waiting for a while,” he says.
I pull a brow. Who’s James?
Oh, right. His new chauffeur.
The one who drove us the night of our first date has disappeared, and I wonder if it has anything to do with his abandoning Eli.
Suppose he deserved to be replaced, but still. I can’t help but feel bad. Losing a job was never fun.
I steal a peek at Eli. Rain drips down his face, sending trickles across his cheeks. Moist strands fall over his eyes, looking as if he’d just stepped out of the shower, and I weaken at the knees.
Why does he have to be so sexy?
He meets my eyes, and we gaze at each other for a while. I most likely look like a drowned rat in comparison, yet I still detect that desire. Or it could be the reflection of the setting sun burning in his eyes.
“You’re all wet,” he remarks, his voice soft and quiet.
“S-so are you...” I whisper, struggling to breathe.
When did it get so hot?
His eyes smoulder me now, and I definitely see that red flash, and I stare, transfixed.
What in the...?
Before I have time to think, he yanks me up by the waist, pressing me hard against the glass.
A high-pitched yelp escapes me, but then he crushes his lips to mine, and my entire body freezes.
Yet my heart still flaps like the wings of a bird, and I melt into his kiss.
I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised by the sudden burst of passion. He is a womanising playboy after all. But he’s my playboy, and I’d gladly scratch the eyes out of any woman who dares try to take him from me.
My eyes close, and now my fingers curl through his wet hair, gripping tight hold of those smooth, black strands. He tastes so good, like an array of exotic spice, and I don’t even like spicy food.
It’s tantalising, and my mouth slavers, wanting to taste more of him. He seems to read my mind and slips his tongue into my mouth with expert precision.
An electrical jolt runs up my spine, and I arch my back, wanting him to fill every part of me. I feel that pull like the north and south ends of a magnetic force, and I can’t let go, even if I wanted to.
It’s like we’re stuck to each other.
My back slips down the fogged glass, and he rights me up, pressing his body closer.
Next, I wrap my legs around his waist, and he groans, crushing me against the window. Our act of romantic passion will leave marks in the glass, but I don’t care. I don’t want this moment to end.
Let’s just hope no one calls the police. We must look so suspicious, propped up against the window to any onlookers out there.
But I guess that’s what makes it so naughty...
I almost don’t recognise myself anymore. That good girl from Louisiana truly is dead and gone.
We soon pull away, our mingled saliva breaking apart, and remain propped up against the glass.
Eli breathes hot against my face, and I open my eyes, watching him curiously.
He’s so close; I can feel his heart banging in rhythm to my own.
Finally, he opens his eyes, revealing a pair of satisfied grey slits. “What the fuck are you doing to me?”
I’m momentarily shocked by his curse word, but I hold it back and smile. “What’s the matter? You never made out with a good girl before?”
He smiles with his eyes. “You’re no angel, Crystal White...”
I giggle and rub my fingers down his smooth temple. He shudders at the touch.
“One day, I will crack through that cold exterior, and find out what’s really inside that pretty head of yours, Eli.”
His eyes darken and he leans closer, filling my nose with his spicy scent. “Are you prepared to take that risk?”
I continue to gaze into those raging storm clouds and sigh. “Yes. I want to get to know the real Eli Black after all. Know what makes him tick.”
He watches me a few moments longer, narrowing his eyes. Then finally, he smirks. My insides turn to jelly. That evil smirk was enough to put any woman to sleep.
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he whispers, his voice so dangerous, it sends a delightful chill up my spine.
It’s at this point where I should feel terrified. But I’m not. I’ve never felt safer in this phone box with Eli.
My pink lipstick stains his lips, and I brush a thumb over his Cupid’s bow, ruining his icy, tough guy exterior. “Well, I was never the kind of girl to shy away from a challenge anyway.”
Eli falls speechless, yet I see the excitement glisten in his eyes, and I know he‘s just as eager for the challenge too.
The rain finally stops, and Eli drops me back to my feet. I feel cold all of a sudden, as I hadn’t realised how close we’d been once his heat leaves me.
He exits the phone box, and I follow him outside. The air is damp and wet, and I shiver, wrapping my hands around my arms. “It’s so cold.”
Eli turns my way, glancing over my clothes. I wear a floral summer dress and a blue denim jacket. But at least my footwear’s sensible: a pair of brown cowboy boots.
He takes his long black coat off next and places it around my shoulders, and his warmth envelopes me once again. His coat has his spicy, intoxicating smell, and I breathe it in.
So heavenly... but with the slightest touch of fire and brimstone. There is nothing pure about Eli. That much was obvious.
He’s a true devil in disguise, and I want him so bad, my rebellious bad boy. Inside me, above me, and in every single part of me.
But it was more than just lust. There was no denying it with the way my heart flutters whenever he touches me, like a butterfly escaping its cocoon.
I spot a perfect imprint of my butt in the glass of the phone box and Eli’s large handprints, and I blush, turning away.
Yikes. Was I really that slutty?
Eli presses his hand against the small of my back, and leads me through the streets of London again.
8. Eli
Crystal White was a saucy little mare.
I knew that good girl virgin act was all a farce. There’s passion and heat inside that small, sweet girl, and she wants me to be the one to unravel her. And I didn’t even have to thrall her into submission.
I can’t help but feel a little smug.
I know when a woman wants me, and I tasted it inside Crystal’s delicious little mouth.
My dick was rock hard inside that phone box, and all I wanted to do was shove it between her soft virgin thighs and make her scream my name.
Fuck, I’m lusting for White’s daughter, but I’m surprised I never saw this one coming. I’m Eli Black. Womanising playboy extraordinaire, after all.
And apparently, I have a thing for shy little virgins now. I only ever went for sexually experienced women in the past. Somehow, it felt wrong to thrall a virgin into something she wouldn’t normally do. And it’s not as if I force the more promiscuous type into anything. Not initially.
It’s a two-way process; the woman has to want me back. I have to feel her desire burning inside her in order to break through.
It’s a lucky job I’m such a handsome devil then. How would I have coped if I had been born an ugly bastard?
My father’s the fugliest cunt I have ever met, and he still managed to thrall a beautiful woman like my mother. He’d forced her to be his wife, pretty much, and then got her pregnant.
But Crystal wants me. It’s mutual, and I will take full pleasure in breaking through her virgin skin.
She’s not going to be able to walk for weeks once I’m through with her.
Though I know once I get a taste of her sweet nectar, I’d want more. I need to concentrate if I plan to use her as ransom against her father.
I still haven’t lost sight of my original plan. I am going to avenge my mother and make Lord White pay.
So perhaps I will just have to hold back for a while and keep my hands to myself.
Crystal is off limits. For now.
If only she would do the same though. It’s not so much her hands, but her voice. That sweet, southern voice, and then she bites down on that full bottom lip, and I’m done.
Her lips fill my mind every night. The top lip is smaller than the bottom, but they’re both perfectly curved, and I just want my cock inside them.
My dick rises then, turning my bed sheets into a tent, and I sigh through clenched teeth.
Just why couldn’t have White’s daughter have been a dog? Sure, she’s no model like Sophia, but she’s still too cute for words.
And horny. Horny for me...
I fist my cock, picturing Crystal’s mouth as it closes around the head, then wank myself off, covering my bedsheets in cum.
Now I’m soaked. Not that I was going to get much sleep anyway. Not to worry; I’m sure Olga will take great pleasure in cleaning them up for me tomorrow.
I need sex. Now. It’s been almost three weeks.
Misaki warned me not to pursue other women while courting Crystal, which was shocking, considering she slept with nearly every man in London when she was dating Aaron, her only ever long-term boyfriend. And the girl doesn’t even have standards, too. She’s fucked cab drivers, kebab shop workers, anyone with a working penis, basically.
But it’s fine. It’s not like Crystal and I are in a relationship. Well, not a real one.
It
’s 2 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Sophia will still be out partying.
She’s not Crystal, but she will have to do.
I climb out of bed and walk across my room buck naked. I find her number on my phone and call. She picks up on the second ring.
“Eli... long time no see...”
She’s drunk as hell. Just what I need; a slutty, drunk model.
“Fancy a fuck?” I say.
I can almost hear her drunken smile over the phone while an annoying house tune beats in the background.
“I’ll be round in a moment.” She hangs up.
I light up a cigarette and gaze out my darkened window. My reflection looks ghostly pale in the glass, and I see the slight red in my eyes.
My demon is brimming to the surface. But all he needs is a good shag, and he’ll be gone.
Three weeks is too long for him. Hell, it’s too long for me.
A cab soon pulls up outside my house and I smirk.
Finally.
Giles lets her in, and I soon hear her high heels clicking up the stairs. Luckily, she doesn’t trip and break her neck.
My bedroom door opens, and the smell of gin, vodka and whisky fills the room. What hasn’t this girl drank tonight?
I keep my gaze on the window, watching her reflection in the glass as it sneaks up behind me. Her hands playfully cover my eyes.
Normally, I wouldn’t tolerate such insolence. No one touches the face after all, and Sophia really likes to push her luck. But I let her off. So long as she lets me fuck her hard tonight, we’re good.
“Guess who?” she purrs, breathing into my ear.
I get a whiff of her alcohol-infused breath and wince. Not that I don’t like a good drink, but it’s just a bit much.
Crystal never smells like booze. Just pure, sweet candy and I don’t even like sweets.
I shake my head, getting Crystal off my brain, then turn to Sophia.
Her mouth crashes into mine and we fall down onto the bed. I claw the zipper running down her back and it comes off. She wriggles out of her dress next, and her huge boobs slap me in the face.
No bra tonight. It’s as if the girl was expecting my call.
She pushes her tongue into my mouth, covering my lips with her saliva, and I grimace.