by K. A. Linde
Natalie
22
After dinner ended, I thanked Nina and Edward for their hospitality and promised to come back again soon. Lewis kissed his mom good night and then whisked me out of their mansion. He breathed out in relief as soon as the elevator doors closed.
“Well, that went as well as could be expected.”
I arched an eyebrow at him.
“I was going to tell you about the wedding.”
“When? When it happened?”
“You’ve been so anti–Upper East Side. You don’t even want to go to Jane’s club opening after what happened at Harmony’s. And Jane is probably your closest friend here.”
“I have good reason for feeling that way,” I reminded him.
“I know. So, why would I burden you with the knowledge that Katherine is getting married?”
“Because apparently, everyone already assumed I was going with you. And then I looked like an idiot because I didn’t even know it was happening.”
“You didn’t look like an idiot,” he assured me as we exited the elevator and strode out to his waiting Mercedes.
I had to admit, it was nice, having a driver waiting for you wherever you went. Especially with the frigid temperatures bathing New York City this weekend.
“You could always go with me,” he said with a cocky grin.
I laughed in his face. “Not going to happen.”
“Wouldn’t it be a victory for you?” he offered. “Seeing Katherine be miserable for the rest of her life.”
“There is no victory in that. Victory implies that there was a competition, which I was never a part of,” I coolly told him. “And I don’t care if Katherine is happy or miserable. I just don’t want to have to deal with her.”
He sighed. “Fair.”
We were out of the car and in his apartment again when fresh anger hit me at the situation. “Didn’t I just see Camden with someone else? Tracey?”
Lewis shrugged. “It is arranged.”
I huffed dramatically and tossed my coat on the couch. “They disgust me.”
He chuckled softly and then stepped into me, tilting my chin up to look at him. “I like when you get all fiery.”
“You like when I’m angry?” I asked with a disconcerted look.
“Not angry. But passionate. It’s like when you discuss your book. Or when you talk about swimming. Or how you talk about any topic that you have strong opinions about.”
“So…everything?”
“It’s my favorite thing about you. Your passion. Most people around here lose it, learn to contain it, leash it. You set yours free. And it lights you up.”
A smile came to my lips. My irritation over Katherine’s impending wedding melting away. What did it matter if she got married? I wasn’t going. I didn’t need to ruin a perfectly good night because of it.
“Well, I had a good time with your family otherwise. Your mom is the best.”
“Isn’t she?”
“Your dad is kind of intimidating though.”
“He has that perfected.” He threaded both of our hands together and kissed me once. “He was kind of terrifying when I was growing up. But I get it now. He was preparing me to take over.”
“And you wanted that?” I asked, slipping my hands out of his, up his chest, and around his neck.
He breathed out a laugh. “Not always. I wanted to play baseball after high school. We fought about it a lot. But in hindsight, he was right. I wasn’t good enough for the majors, and I would have wallowed in the minors when I should have been at Harvard. So, Harvard was where I ended up.”
“Why didn’t you play baseball at Harvard?”
He shrugged. “I’m an all-or-nothing sort of guy.”
“Oh, yeah? Is that what you are with me right now?”
“You’re like nothing else that has ever come into my life.”
When his lips touched mine, all semblance of restraint evaporated. No longer did he touch me with soft, achingly slow kisses. He’d deserted that with our talk of passion. And his passion for me.
Our lips moved against each other with abandon. He demanded a response and took everything that I gave back to him with equal fervor. A hand moved to my breast, squeezing me through the material of my dress. His thumb slipped under the front of my dress and flicked against my erect nipple, sending a jolt of desire through my body.
I reached blindly for the buttons of his shirt. Wanting—no, needing to feel his heated skin and taste that perfect physique. He pulled back long enough to reach behind him, grasp the back of his shirt, and tug it over his head. My mouth watered at the sight of him. All chiseled abdominals and bulky arms and shoulders. Hours in the gym. He must spend hours to have this kind of incredible body.
My fingers splayed over the pecs and went down every square inch of abs to the V that drove me utterly crazy. And he let me. Let me eat him up.
Then, he pressed forward into me. His hands found the zipper of my dress, and he dragged it down inch by inch until it hit the apex of my ass. His fingers tipped the sleeves off of my shoulders, revealing the curve of my breasts and then the black-and-nude bra I’d chosen for the evening. His eyes went wide when he caught a glimpse of it. His head dipped down and sucked the pebbled nipple into his mouth, heedless of the sheer material as a barrier.
I gasped, arching into him at the sensation. At the fact that he couldn’t wait to even take the thing off because he needed me so badly.
The rest of my dress fell over my hips and then into a puddle at my feet. He pulled back long enough to take his fill of me. He’d seen me in nearly as little clothing. I’d worn a bra and panties into the pool the first night we met. But that had been a year ago. We hadn’t been anything at the time. This was all different.
“You are perfect,” he told me as he slipped his hands down my body.
Then he took my hand and guided me into his bedroom. I went willingly. My body taut with anticipation.
He flicked the clasp on my bra, and my breasts spilled forward out of the constraint. His hands went to them. Feeling the soft mounds and fingering my sensitive nipples. He explored me in no rush for this to come to a close. Just enjoying every second of it.
My hand moved for his belt, which I deftly undid. Then I snagged the button and released the zipper. His cock jutted upward in his pants, unobstructed by any kind of underwear. A soft noise escaped me at the unexpected sight.
“Like that?” he groaned.
“Commando,” I observed.
“Going to be thinking about that every time we’re together now?”
“Do you always?”
My fingers dipped into his pants, running gingerly across the head of his cock. He stretched into my hand as I got the feel of him in my palm and stroked.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “I’ve wanted your touch…so long.”
I did it again and then again. Up and down. Up and down.
“Natalie,” he murmured.
I pushed the waist of his suit pants off of his narrow hips and then gently came to my knees before him. Pre-cum glistened on the tip of his cock, waiting for me to taste him. I leaned forward, bracing myself against his powerful thighs, and then licked the seam. The taste of salt hit my tongue at the same time Lewis’s hands dug into my hair.
“More?” I teased.
“Open your mouth,” was his only answer.
I did as I had been told, and he slid his cock into my mouth. Inch by solid inch. Enough to nearly make me gag on him. But he waited, patient not to hurt me before pulling out and then thrusting in again. When he withdrew once more, I licked my lips and wrestled control back from him, bobbing forward before he could fuck my mouth.
His groan was enough to make my lower half pulse with desire. I could feel wetness pooling in my panties. Taking control, making him feel everything that I was offering him, turned me on as much as it did him.
I could feel him continue to lengthen in my mouth. Growing longer, fuller.
Then, s
uddenly, he was out of my mouth. He hoisted me to my feet and all but easily threw me onto the bed.
My eyes were wide with concern. “You don’t want to finish?”
He grinned. “I do. But you first.”
Then he slipped the panties over my hips and buried his face in my pussy. The scruff of his five o’clock shadow brushing against my thighs. His tongue lapping at my clit. I was already wet and needy after the blow job. And mewling noises were coming from my mouth as he brought me to the brink.
“God, you taste like heaven.”
“Oh fuck,” was my response.
He chuckled as if he knew how good he was and then ate me out like it was his fucking job. I came in ripples. Shattering into tiny pieces and somehow coming back together into one.
My eyes fluttered open, and I dropped my trembling legs. “Hey, you.”
He’d just hopped off the bed. His hand was in the side table drawer. “Hmm?”
“Come here.”
He held up the condom that he had been retrieving. Good thing one of us remembered. I was on birth control, but it was smarter.
He slipped the sheath onto his cock and then settled between my legs. I wrapped my arms around his neck. He stared down at me as if I was the most incredible thing in the entire universe. Our lips came together, eager but tender. The tip of him slipped past my opening, and I groaned into his mouth.
“Fuck,” he muttered and then slid all the way inside me in one quick thrust.
I quivered at the full feel of him inside me. The coupling that felt so complete.
“I love that,” he murmured against my ear. “That first feel of you wrapped all around my cock.”
My body throbbed at the words. Then, he started moving, sliding out and thrusting back in. Picking up his pace with each movement until we were both pushing our hips harder and harder against each other. Working up to that moment where we both came undone.
He braced himself over me, taking one of my legs to his shoulder to get deeper. And it was that moment, that one perfect spot, where everything fell away.
I cried out then, yelling, “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” into the night. Until he gasped, hit bottom once more, and came with a powerful bellow.
Lewis dropped his head down to my shoulder. His powerful muscles heaving. His body sated and spent.
I ran my fingers across his hair and kissed his shoulder. No words needed to be spoken. Not after that. Not while we were naked and happy. All I needed was our heavy breathing and racing hearts. The evidence of how we had come together in that moment.
For I knew that nothing would ever be the same.
Part IV
Darkest Hour Is Just Before Dawn
Natalie
23
The limo stopped in front of Trinity for Jane’s club opening. I tensed in the backseat with Lewis at the red carpet and paparazzi waiting outside. I had known they would be there. Jane had pulled out all the stops. But I was still uncomfortable with the spotlight. Not to mention that this was the first time I would be out with Lewis since Harmony’s unfortunate party. Even worse, I knew the crew would be here. I knew that I might run into them. And I had come anyway.
For Jane. For Lewis. For Charlotte and Etta. For the person I was in this moment who wanted to be there for my friends…my boyfriend.
Even if the paparazzi display brought back a slew of negative feelings. I remembered strutting along behind Katherine as if I belonged here, as if Katherine liked me or cared. And it was hard to shake those feelings loose.
“I’m not nervous,” I lied to him.
Lewis bent forward and placed a kiss on my cherry-red lips. “Liar,” he murmured.
“I’m not nervous. I’m just remembering the last time I did this. The girl I was then.”
“Natalie, look at me.”
I swung my gaze away from the commotion at the entrance.
“You belong here. You belong here with me. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”
My shoulders loosened, and I breathed out once as the words rolled over me.
His hand threaded up into my long silver hair, tugging me closer. I leaned into him, feeling his lips against my own. Glad for the lipstick that wouldn’t budge and his hot presence that grounded me in that moment.
The driver tapped on our window, and Lewis pulled away with a satisfied smirk, leaving me hanging in the space between us. He ran his knuckles across my cheekbone and then winked, bringing me back to the present.
Showtime.
The driver opened the door, and Lewis stepped out first before holding his hand out for me. I took it and gingerly took a step into the spotlight. I’d had every intention of wearing the dress that Jane had purchased for me at Bergdorf, but this morning, when I’d been getting ready to leave to go write, a package had been delivered to my apartment.
I’d taken the long royal-purple garment bag in confusion. My heart had fluttered at the gold lettering that read Cunningham Couture across one side. I’d unzipped the bag to find the most stunning forest-green lace dress in existence. I’d shimmied into the thing and found that it fit like a dress, wrapping up and around my neck with a full open back. It hugged my waist and down to mid-thigh before fanning out to my feet. The color looked stunning against my long pale hair and my fair skin.
It had come with a small handwritten note.
Wear me.
—Jane
A pair of high heels with red lacquered bottoms that cost a fortune were also attached. And I wanted to turn it all down. I had returned everything from Bergdorf that day, except the dress since I’d been planning to wear it to the event. I could not keep an Elizabeth Cunningham original. But Jane had refused to even take my calls all day.
And here I was. Stepping up to the cameras in strappy black Louboutin fuck-me heels and a one-of-a-kind designer dress. It almost felt like putting on armor. Heading into an Upper East Side event felt like going into battle.
Cameras flashed. Journalists called out for questions. We walked across a red carpet. And it was over. It took only a matter of minutes, and my anxiety had been for nothing. Go figure.
I held my head high as I walked into Trinity nightclub. I was on Lewis Warren’s arm. He was dressed to kill in a Tom Ford tuxedo. We were here at the bequest of the owner. I even knew one of the models in Elizabeth Cunningham’s collection for the event. Maybe I did belong after all.
Then, the toe of my shoe caught on the front of my dress, and I stumbled. Thankfully, Lewis’s arm was still around my waist. He steadied me before I fell on my face. Or worse…ripped the one-of-a-kind dress.
“Easy there,” he said with a laugh.
My face turned the color of a tomato. “So embarrassing.”
On second thought, fake it till you make it seemed more realistic.
I hurried with Lewis out of the spotlight and took in the club. It was enormous, even bigger than I would have guessed. A stage and runway took up the center of the room. Cunningham Couture’s logo was tastefully displayed around in gold across purple banners. One entire wall was floor-to-ceiling glass with discreet exits onto a heated balcony. A long bar lined either side of the room, and waiters in tuxedos were carrying champagne flutes amid the crowd. Jane had said that DJ Damon Stone was playing for the crowd tonight, and I could hear his telltale style coming in from the speakers.
All in all, it was outstanding. Jane had really outdone herself.
“Ah!” a voice shrieked from behind us as Lewis claimed two glasses of champagne for us. “You made it!”
I turned around in time for Etta to throw herself into my arms.
“We made it,” I said, pulling back to smile at her.
She was a smidgen shorter than me, even in her sky-high heels. She had on a skintight dress with studded details that showed off her curvy frame. The gold highlighter on her light-brown cheeks was flawless. Her box braids were artfully swept into a bun. She looked like a vixen.
“Oh, look, my little sister is here,” Lewi
s drawled.
“Brother, I was going to say that you look dapper tonight, but I take it back,” Etta quipped.
“Where is my well-behaved sibling?”
Etta rolled her eyes, which were heavily lined in black coal and fake lashes. “Fuck well behaved.”
I just laughed. I enjoyed their antics.
“Come on, Natalie. We can’t expect my brother to be a gentleman. I’ll take you back to see Charlie.”
Etta looped her arm with mine and veered me toward the stage door. Etta winked at the guy guarding the door, and he opened it for her.
“Sorry, no men backstage at this point,” the guy said to Lewis.
Lewis arched an eyebrow. “Do you know who I am?”
“Oh, give it a rest,” Etta said with a laugh. “We’ll be in and out in a minute. Go get us drinks. Something strong.” She winked at him and then dragged me through the door.
I glanced back at Lewis and shrugged. “See you in a minute.”
He shook his head and started speaking to the guard, who didn’t seem to care in the slightest that he was Lewis Warren.
As I turned back around, the world transformed. We’d gone from bumping tunes, clientele dressed to the nines, and floating champagne to half-naked models, a strong smell of hairspray, and glitter flying everywhere. And yet, I felt more comfortable here than out there. I was going to have to thank Melanie for that one. One too many dance recitals back in the day.
“Charlie!” Etta called. She grasped my hand and then moved through the chaos toward her sister, who stood out in all of her beautiful glory. “Look who I brought with me.”
Charlotte stood in six-inch heels and looked like an Amazon goddess. Her hair had been cornrowed back on both sides, leaving a soft mane of finger coils down the middle. She was being pinned or maybe sewn into the dress she was wearing, which was exotic and looked like stained glass or a painting of the inside of a kaleidoscope. Not practical for everyday wear, but clearly a piece of art.