by Candy Quinn
So many times I went to the Cleopatra, the fanciest bar in town, just to strut my stuff. Horny rich bastards slathering over me, offering to buy me drinks, trying to get close enough to touch instead of just looking, but I never let them.
I was a tease. The most hardcore and devoted of teases. Ever since I turned twenty-one I'd been going there in something sexy, and every night I returned home – alone. On purpose.
Despite my seductress nature, I was a virgin at twenty-one. I laughed at the irony whenever I thought about it.
I pulled out the dress for tonight, it had to be doubly special. Something that didn't go too far past my ass, and showed off a lot of leg. Black, low cut, playing the brinksmanship game with my cleavage as well but still remaining classy. I had lots to choose from. I settled on something that had a bit of a boob window.
Shoes were next, settling on some heels to really drive the leg thing home.
Because tonight, I wasn't just playing games like I usually did. Tonight, I had to enrapture some rich bastard.
I shuddered. I was becoming what I feared most. Some moneygrubbing bitch. With eviction looming though, I didn't have much choice in the matter. I had to string someone along.
Again, I was disgusted thinking about who it would probably be. The older and more decrepit they were I supposed, the less amount of time I would have to put up with them before they finally had a heart attack and keeled over, leaving me their fortune.
The alternative was getting a real job, trying to go back to school. A prospect with no definite success.
Looking at myself in the mirror as I finished applying my makeup though, I realized that I looked good. I was confident despite my inexperience. This was going to work, no matter how much I hated the fact that, yes, it was going to work. I'd meet the man who I would marry tonight.
Closing my eyes, taking a deep breath, I grabbed my phone and dialed for a cab.
The Cleopatra was where it was going to happen.
The doorman didn't even stop me for an ID as I walked past. I was well established as a regular so all he did was nod. I usually threw a flirt at him, but tonight was more about business, and as nice as the doorman was, he wasn't what I was looking for.
The people I was looking for were up the stairs and into the bar room proper.
The Cleopatra was immaculate. Huge windows which gave a view of the city below. Waiters and waitresses desperately trying to stay on top of the requests of the clientele, carrying out huge platters of food and drinks – mostly drinks. Of the alcoholic variety.
The clientele? No one was in an item of clothing that wasn't worth at least three digits. I'd put good money that it'd also apply to minor items like a woman's stockings or hair decorations. Suits, jackets for the men, a few daring to only go with collared shirts. Even looking at the women, I took notes about fashion to steal and alter for my own use later on – if my mission was successful anyway. Besides, if confronted, I'd use the word inspired. Sounds nicer than steal.
Every single one of them was worth seven digits or would be by the time they'd be thirty-years-old. Stock brokers, lawyers, entrepreneurs, all jobs where you didn't get to being successful by playing nice. Honestly, I hated the lot of them. Caring for money more than humanity.
Money was so very nice though, so I had to work fast. I had to bite my tongue, find some loveless relationship at least long enough to secure my own future. If it got out that my own fortune was ruined, they'd all see me as a gold digger and want nothing to do with me.
I found the corner of the main bar, where all the singles lurked. I scooted up on the stool and did my damnedest to look seductive like I always did. I had my routine, get attention, get people to buy drinks for me. That was all the ego rush I needed, usually. With the stakes raised, I only had to hope that my desperation didn't shine through.
"Hey, Candy Cheeks," a voice said, breaking through the background.
Candy Cheeks? What kind of pick up line was that? I turned to face my newest 'suitor'. Sure, he had good hair. He was traditionally attractive, dressed well in a gray suit. He wasn't ugly. The way he smiled though? I instinctively wanted to punch him in the face. I resisted, for the combination of not wanting to be arrested and needing an asshole like him.
"Mind if I buy you a drink for your time?" He sat on the stool next to mine.
"Oh sure thing handsome," I said, putting on my own fake smile.
"Man, what a day," he began. "Cornered a market. Got a monopoly on it now. Gonna make me rocket up the Forbes list."
"Oh really," I said, passively. These assholes just want to endless talk about themselves over and over again, never shutting their mouths on the matter.
"People need what I'm selling if you catch my drift and this is going to turn me into a full fledged billionaire," he went on. "Bartender! Get me a beer and the lady some Balkan vodka!"
"Vodka?" I said.
"You'll love it," he replied, his punchable smile growing more punchable. "So anyway, it seems like I got it all, you know? All except that soft luscious lady in my life." He snidely glanced my way.
The bartender slid the drinks towards us.
Just looking down at the vodka, its subtle fumes were making my eyes burn. I wasn't some veteran in drinking, only legally being able to do so recently. Vodka was super strong, especially the authentic stuff that the Cleopatra would carry. Actual stuff from the Balkans, stuff that would put hair on my chest even though I was a woman, and would make me a dribbling incoherent mess in no time flat.
I glared at my 'suitor'. He had clear nefarious intent, getting me something so hard when he was drinking something so utterly not. I slid off the stool. "I don't think I'm up to vodka, I'm sorry. Enjoy your illegal monopoly."
"See? I show some charity to a butterface like yourself and this is how I get treated?" I cringed as I started to walk away from him, but he didn't shut up. "You don't even belong in this bar, bitch, I should have you thrown out!"
I cringed at his words, there being truth in the second part of his rants. He wouldn't go that far. He'd just go try to prey on someone else. I pushed him out of my mind.
Then I saw him.
Actually handsome. A solid jaw, dark hair hanging over his eyes. piercing yet as dark as his hair. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing a strong forearms, slightly furry.
He had a light wine at arms reach, and seemed as bored of all of this as I was. He had vacancies to both sides of him. Mystery man looked around the room, shaking his head, until his gaze spun around and met my own. He froze for a moment, and looked me up and down.
All while I was staring right back at home.
My gaze snapped away, realizing how aggressively awkward I was being.
"You want to have a seat next to me, or do you want to keep standing there randomly gawking at me?"
Blushing, I accepted his invitation and climbed up on the stool next to him.
"A drink?" He said with a kind eyebrow raise.
"Sure," I replied, trying not to come off too weirdly.
"What'll it be?"
"Not vodka. Anything but vodka."
He laughed. "Two beers please!" He said, raising a hand to get the attention of the barkeep.
"That's a better start than my last encounter already."
"You mean that guy?" He pointed over the bar, where my former 'suitor' was already at work with another girl. Luckily, it seemed she wasn't having much of him either. "That guy's a prick. He's the whole reason I don't come to this place."
I glanced at my new crush. "Yeah, I haven't seen you around before."
"Cause it's the first time I've been here. My latest attempt and mingling and hopefully finding the whole true love thing."
"You want something real, huh?" I said, sipping the drink as it was slid in front of me.
"Who doesn't?"
"People who are dead inside and believe love is a lie," I replied. Realizing what I was in here for, I couldn't say I didn't see how they would be driven to believ
e that.
"See? I like that. That's genuine. Most people around here are so full of themselves, and if they're not full of that, it's just a bunch of hot air covering the fact that they're only a millionaire instead of a billionaire and that's the worst thing in the whole damn world."
I laughed. "They don't let anyone in here besides those types. Self-loathing millionaire?"
"Billionaire, but as I said, doesn't matter. I don't hate myself. I just hate everyone in the same tax bracket as me."
"I understand that."
"You know how it is though. If I want to find something that actually resembles love, I gotta stay in that tax bracket. I can't imagine me or the girl I search for being able to get over the whole sugar daddy or gold digger implication of the relationship."
I coughed, shiftily looking away. "Money complicates everything."
"There's something about you, and I don't think we've even exchanged names. I'm Daniel Carter. May I ask what yours is?"
"Olivia," I said, stopping myself for letting out my last name. What if this guy knew of my family's recent troubles and the ruin that we had suddenly encountered?
"Olivia, eh? That's a beautiful name." He sipped his beverage. "I just don't think I'd be able to get over the feeling that they'd only be interested in me for my money and my money alone. I mean, you end up with either them snatching half your fortune in betrayal or I get them to sign some pre-nuptial saying I don't trust them to not do that. I rather just not be in such a situation."
"Yeah," I muttered. "I'm surprised a guy like you hasn't found someone already. I'd think that you'd have your open choice of any woman you wanted, no matter how big her bank account is."
Again, he laughed. "It isn't that simple. Sure, if I just want to get off, I can get anyone. I want more though. I've developed certain tastes that not everyone goes along with."
"What, do you like girls to call you Daddy or something?"
He shook his head, amused. "Nah, nothing like that. It takes a very special woman to really get me going. They need an edge to them. I don't know why, Olivia, but something tells me that you might have that edge."
"Oh?" My eyebrow raised again. "I'm curious. I just considered most of the guys in this bar to be super vanilla. Inherit your money, never have to think, never let your imagination roam."
Even as a virgin, just the whole pump the penis in the vagina thing until he splooges thing seemed kinda bland. There needed to be context, more to it. I guess it was why it was so easy for me to stop at flirting to get my rush. Daniel, though, was definitely different, even without what he was hinting at. What he was hinting at? I had no idea.
"My imagination is why I have my success. No trust fund here, just a good idea, the drive to make it happen, and the wisdom to sell it off at the right time. I never have to work again if I don't want to, but I'll see where life takes me. Tonight, I think it might be taking me with you, Olivia."
A rush of adrenaline hit me, as I pondered everything that he was suggesting to me.
We kept talking for a time. About our lives, about everything else. All the while I kept being evasive about my family's circumstances, not wanting my incoming destitution to be known.
"God, I hope I remain the anonymous billionaire. I don't want to be known like that. Besides, all I need is some stupid scandal getting out from a bunch of people that don't truly understand what's going on and what it all means," he said, still only on his third drink. We had been talking for hours at this point.
"Keep going, you can't just say that without details," I replied.
"People just don't understand why I like the things that I do. They think one thing and immediately just make a million and one assumptions about the person and everything. That they're some sort of Patrick Bateman style psycho who gets off on violence, or that they're just some abuse junkie who is a massive misogynist."
"What do you mean, then?"
"See, even with you, I don't want to come out and say it. I think you'd like it. I also just think I tell you, you run away screaming and miss out on something great."
My interest was most definitely piqued as he spoke about things. I wanted to learn more about him, I wanted to do more with Daniel Carter. Somehow, someway, I found the one dude with money at the Cleopatra who didn't make my stomach twist and turn at the idea of doing more with him than cashing his checks.
"Show me, then."
"Hmm?"
"Show me. Show me what your into. Daniel, I can't say much more than I am open minded, especially when it comes to you."
The grin that formed on his face was definitely genuine. He took me gently by the hand, placed a pair of hundred-dollar bills on the counter, and stepped away from it. I followed him with curiosity, wondering what would come next.
"I rented the executive suite from the hotel above the Cleopatra just in case I found such a woman who was curious enough to follow me further." He led me into an elevator, and pressed the button to the top floor. "I want to take you tonight, Olivia. Ever since our gazes met, I knew that you were going to be something special, and I hope that this inkling is more than just a one night stand for you too."
"Not even a first date, huh?"
"I see this as cutting to the chase; if we aren't sexually compatible, why waste our time with one another?"
The door opened to the top floor, and the executive suite was as exorbitant as I thought it would be. Daniel let go of my hand as he undid a few buttons on his collared shirt. I did the same, kicking off my heels and enjoying the plush carpet underneath my feet.
"Olivia," he said, flatly, our eyes meeting directly. "If something happens you are absolutely not comfortable with, tell me these words clearly: Green Apple."
Green Apple? I was confused, but not enough to get back up on that elevator and flee Daniel. No, this was going to be the night that I went beyond teasing. Way beyond teasing.
I wandered a bit through his suite, looking out the window, split between enjoying the view and pondering what was going to come. My first time, and what on earth was Daniel going on about?
"Olivia, some men are content with nothing more than the sweetest romance. Tender kisses, nothing more than soft touches between you and your lover. Me? Not so much."
His footsteps hit the carpet behind me, and I soon felt his presence. Swiftly and suddenly, he spun me around, taking my hair into his hand roughly, and then kissing me so very deeply. He didn't hold back. Not one bit.
There was force in his movements, powerful and sudden. Even as he kissed me, it was like he wasn't giving me my first kiss, but instead taking it from me. His tongue was pushing in, demanding that my own follow.
The way my adrenaline started pumping, well, I was shocked to say that I actually liked what he was doing. Direct, strong, and dare I say, manly.
Our kiss breaking, he kept my eyes locked on his, using my hair as a lever. "For me, though, I'm looking for something more primal. Savage. This is what is so easy for someone outsider to look in and call me a chauvinist, someone who just hates women and wants to exert power over them."
I blinked at him, not quite fully sure what to make of it.
"Exerting power, yes, that's part of the fantasy. But I love women. I love a woman more when they love each and every little cruelty I give to them as if it were a pleasure."
"You think I'm going to like having this done to me?"
"I've been talking with you for a few hours. You're a bit of a tease aren't you?"
I blushed in response. "Maybe a little?"
"I theorize that you've been waiting for a guy like me to come along, reach out, and take what he wants. You want someone to be rough with you. Poor little rich girl never had any real adversity in her life, so you want someone to at least give you the fantasy of it."
"Are you my shrink now?"
He simply laughed. "It doesn't matter, really. Just remember what I told you. It's not fun for me unless you're having fun too."
The smile faded, and he yanked
me around again. The pain was there as he almost dragged me to the room, toward the bed, and then shoved me down onto it, making me bounce as I hit it.
It was by far the nicest bed I've ever been roughly tossed on to. Also the first, but...
I had to say I definitely wasn't expecting this. Daniel climbed on top of me, held me down and kissed me deeply again, roughly.
No matter how weird it was, I reminded myself that it was for my future. No matter how much I liked how he kissed me so hard on my neck that I think it might have left a mark.
Daniel kept going. He reached down to my dress, silky and fancy, and just tore at it. Brute strength, tearing it down the middle like it was tissue paper. "I think I'm going to enjoy ravishing you," he said, taking in the sight of my body, now effectively clad only in my bra and panties.
All I could do was blush more, wondering if my smile was ruining his fantasy.
His hands sprung into action, yanking my bra across my breasts, another move I wondered if it was going to leave a mark tomorrow morning. He roughly handled me, twisting them, teasing them. I winced here and there, but still found myself into it through it all. Not content with proxy stimulation, he used those buff arms to pull at and break my bra. God, was he going to leave me with any functional clothes in the morning?
The way he took my nipples into his hand, tweaking them, twisting them. It stung, yes. The blood still rushed to them, my arousal rising steadily from his movements. Even as I gasped, cried out softly from the pain, I was entranced, wanting to experience anything and everything that was going with what he was doing.
"A little pain can give way to a whole lot of pleasure," he said, as he latched onto my breast with a mighty and powerful kiss. It was a powerful suck, and that suck turned into a bite.
"Ah," I said, wincing a bit. It didn't change much about the situation though. That nipple was hard, and I could feel other parts of me getting more and more ready to experience Daniel's unique brand of rough love. The other breast soon got the same treatment, and it's hardness, the coolness that his saliva left behind as he used my body so roughly it left me aching, yearning for more and more.