by Adair Rymer
“I've been meaning to have them adjust that. The elevator is safe, usually a little too slow for my liking.” He pulled me closer. His scent was mostly of a light cologne, but beneath that was the hint of a natural, manly musk. I drank as much as my lungs would allow.
The vibration, the closeness and the quiet were quickly smothering me. When I found my legs again, I put some distance between us. Focus! I was using him, not the other way around. Say something!
“I'm not having sex with you.” I blurted the words, then frowned at their brashness. Smooth, Claire.
“I agree. We'd need a lot more time than even this slow elevator is capable of. It's a nice thought though. You, naked, pushed up against the mirrored walls, watching a hundreds versions of us fucking.”
“You just don't quit, do you?” He was unbelievable, not even my bluntness fazed him. Sex really was the only thing on his mind.
“I don't remember you asking me to stop last night.” Maynard paused to think. “Or maybe you did, somewhere between the first and second toe-curling orgasm. I can't remember.”
“Why am I here, Maynard?” The question was eating me alive. Girls like me did not get invited to these things without some ulterior motive. “Last night was a one time thing so I don't know what you could want with me.”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Maynard replied easily. Maynard didn't shrug, adjust his stance or glance away like most people did when they had a conversation. He never tried to alleviate building tension, it was the opposite in fact. He didn't exactly stare either, his eyes just flickered about me. They let me know I had his undivided attention. It felt like I was looking into the sun. “If you're not here to fuck, then why are you here?”
Chills ran through me at his straightforwardness. I couldn't tell him the simple truth of it, could I? Because I wanted to be, felt like I was giving him too much power over me. I couldn't trust him with that much power. His gaze incited a lot of things in me. Steamy lust, forbidden temptation and nails-dragging-sex, sure, but trust wasn't one of them.
OK, so neither of us were going to trust the other. That was fine. It actually made me feel a little better, like we had both finally found some common ground.
“It's not everyday I get invited to fancy parties.” That was true, but it came out so juvenile. I blamed the polished, mirrored, walls for my lack of concentration. It was a trap. He was everywhere in that elevator. Even when I glanced away from him, all I could see were his handsome reflections.
“You've never been to a party like this.” A million copies of his kissable lips said the same sentence. How could one person look so perfect from every single angle, it was maddeningly unfair.
Oh man, that must mean he could see me from every angle too! I immediately became self-conscious. I could do my eyeliner fine, but I was never that great with makeup in general. Could he tell that just from looking at me? How did he see me? Ugh, just being looked at by Maynard was so damn exhausting...
Why did I care? I wasn't here to fuck him, remember? I was just taking a look around, that's all.
“The dress fit perfectly, by the way,” I tried to change the subject. “How did you know my size?”
Maynard's eyes licked down my body, like a flame caught in the wind. I'd never met anyone that could make my legs go weak with such a simple gesture. “How could I possibly forget?”
Oh my God! My eyes flashed wide. Thoughts of his rough hands all over me melted my panties. I needed to clear my head and said the first thing that came to mind. “This isn't going to be one of those 'Eyes Wide Shut' parties, where people are having weird sex all over the place, is it?”
“This is a hotel, Claire.” His intent, but emotionless expression cracked into the hint of a smile. “Of course they are, but only in their private rooms.”
We passed floor fifty and were still going up. How big was this place? I just prayed not to get a nose bleed when we reached the top. “Where is the party? The top floor?”
“One floor under that actually.” Maynard didn't bother hiding those proud facts. I glanced at the buttons, they went up to floor sixty-nine. “The top floor is exclusively mine.”
Seriously?
“You live on floor sixty-nine?” I almost laughed. Of course, he did.
“I do have a reputation to maintain. I'll give you a private tour, if you're good.”
“I'll pass.” I rolled my eyes, shaking my head. “I'm sure that's just a revolving door of women. How many hearts have you broken up there?”
“None,” Maynard frowned like I offended him. I felt the urge to apologize. He was a world renown womanizer, how could I possibly offend a man like him. And why did I care if I did? “You can fuck almost anywhere, but it's a special thing to take someone into your home.”
“It's not that special.” I said, carefully, trying to figure Maynard out. I was beginning to see that Maynard had more layers to him than he let on. “You certainly didn't have a problem coming into my apartment last night.”
“I asked your permission, that was different.” His air of flippancy hadn't returned as I thought it would when I brought up what I figured he wanted from me, sex. After a long moment of silence, Maynard added, “I live my life by three rules. I've already broken one of them with you, I won't break the other two.”
“What rule was that?” I was put off a little by the whole mystery man routine, but dammit if I wasn't interested. I scrubbed my mind for any tells, what had we done that a man like Maynard would consider taboo? It all felt so good, but nothing stood out as being exceptionally crazy.
“I kissed you on the mouth and almost spent the night at your place.”
“That's it?” I guess that was really intimate when I thought about it. Did he really never kiss any of the many girls he slept with? OK, so that was rule number one and rule number two,“What's your third rule?”
Every second of our first kiss was chiseled in my head. I'd never kissed anyone like I did Maynard. The passion and the freedom of letting go with another person was too memorable to ever forget.
Maynard didn't reply. He just smiled and studied me as the elevator whirred past ten more floors.
“What?” I asked. He knew something that he wasn't telling me, or maybe he was making some kind of decision about me. Either way, I didn't like being stared at. Especially not by a man like him.
Maynard touched a pad by the numbers, that read his fingerprint. Then he pressed another button and the elevator came to a full stop between floors.
“Don't worry,” he said, picking up on the obvious concern on my face. Handsome or not, I wasn't the biggest fan of being trapped in a metal box with a man, fifty floors off the ground. Maynard pulled out a thick money fold. “I just want a little privacy before we get up there?”
“What is all this?” I paused, uncomfortably. He wasn't soliciting me was he?
“Not what you think.” He smiled wide, understanding how everything must have looked to me. “The two things I don't pay for, are extra levels in Candy Crush and sex.”
“Say's the man holding the—”
“Five thousand dollars to be my fiance for the night.” He smiled, cutting right to it.
“What? Why?” I was stunned.
“Questions aren't part of the deal. I'll introduce you as my fiance and you'll play along. That's it.” Maynard opened the bill fold and took out a thousand dollars, handing it to me.
“I didn't say yes.”
“This is just for your inconvenience of coming out tonight.” He took my hand and gently closed it around the money. His touch was warm and gentle, but the offer made my throat go dry.
“Take a moment and think about it.” Maynard restarted the elevator, and we slowly got back up to speed. “If we reach the sixty-eighth floor and you want to go home, just stay on the elevator and it'll bring you back to the lobby. There will be a car waiting to bring you back home.”
I swallowed again, trying to moisten my throat. A thousand dollars just for showi
ng up... That was more than a month's pay, I could afford to actually pay some of my bills with that. All I had to do was stay in the elevator. “And if I stay?”
“If you walk out those doors with me, you are my fiance in all ways. Well almost all ways”
“Because you don't pay for sex,” I exhaled, a little bemused. Maynard eyed me, nodding slightly. The implication on his face was that if we did have sex it would be after my service was done.
The elevator slowed a moment later, then came a ding and the doors to floor sixty-eight opened.
Maynard's unconcerned smirk reappeared as he stepped out of the elevator, and turned back to me. Was there anything wrong with what he was asking me to do? I guess not. But if it wasn't me in the elevator, I knew it would've been some other girl. That's how it was with guys like this.
I'd cut my losses now and walk out before I did something stupid, like stay. The doors closed between us, severing my connection to Maynard Cooper. This time I knew for certain that I would never see him again.
When it was apparent to him that I hadn't accepted his offer, Maynard's smirk faltered. It was quickly replaced with shock, he wasn't the type of man people said no to, then something else flashed in his eyes.
Genuine disappointment.
He wasn't just looking for anyone to be his 'fiance.' For whatever reason, he chose me. Maynard came off so bulletproof, but it would really hurt him if I said no. Was there more to him than I'd assumed? I realized my mistake too late for the doors had already closed.
Or they would have, had Maynard's hand not been lodged between them. He pried the doors apart with no small effort. Did he see me change my mind at the end? One of his strong hands pressed the doors open fully, the other was held out for me to take.
I could've refused and gone back downstairs. Instead, I extended my own hand, letting him lead me out into the party.
“Never reach for a closing door, its a good way to lose your hand,” Maynard said, as he slid a hand around my waist. What an apt metaphor, I thought. I'd already lost a part of myself to my ex boyfriend, Chance. I had to wonder if I was just about to do lose another part of myself to Maynard.
“Welcome to the party, fiance.” Maynard's words were a mouthful of warm honey.
What had I gotten myself involved in?
Chapter 4
Maynard
I watched Claire's green eyes, shine and light up at every turn.
The decadence of my party overflowed out of each hall, this years theme was all about performers and performance. Woodstock meets Burning Man. It was a collection of talent, that had taken an incredible amount of organization.
We walked by rooms that held some of the worlds hottest bands as they played intimately small shows. Circus members wove seamlessly through the crowds, on a variety of devices, skateboard, unicycles and giant wheels while street performers entertained individual couples with fire poi, juggling and break dancing.
It really was a sight to see, not that I was paying attention to any of it. I was captivated by Claire's expression. She slightly squeezed my side whenever she saw something new and exciting. The pressure caused little bursts of warmth to light my core. She really did look stunning in that dress, I couldn't help but lightly draw patterns on her hip with my finger as we walked.
I knew most of the girls at the party would be half naked, so I picked out an outfit for Claire that was modest by comparison. The loose dark pleats of her skirt tapered at her waist, where her white shirt fit snug around her upper torso. My cock stirred to readiness and pressed into my pants with her this close to me. That outfit wrapped her like a Christmas present.
One I could not fucking wait to unwrap.
Claire eyed me curiously, catching me staring at her. It was a look that wondered what was on my mind. What was I thinking? How it would be to spread your legs and bury my cock into you until you screamed my name.
My best event yet, but after so many years playing the game, the parties didn't do it for me as much as they used to. I'd been to, and thrown, so many that they all just blended together. Each year, the goal was to top that last year in scope and absurdity.
The real goal for me at these things was to see how many women I could fuck before the night was over. This year was a little different. I couldn't run off and nail some Brazilian actresses, with my 'fiance' around. The word thrilled me more than it should.
Fiance.
The whole thing was such a fucking joke, I'd never even had a real relationship. I'd never needed to, I was too busy getting laid. Just one night, I reminded myself. Then things go back to normal.
There was a hollowness in that realization, that I couldn't place. Normal. The word soured in my head. My playboy style had become normal; I wasn't sure how I felt about that. Claire wasn't normal, at least not my kind of normal. Was that why I picked her?
“Oh my god! How did you get horses up here?” She looked on as riders raced around a massive ballroom. The horses destroyed the rugs as they did multiple laps, but that never bothered me. Extensive post-event cleanups were always a necessity. High society really knew how to get down.
“I had extra large freight elevators put on. You should see some of the things they can hold.” I had to raise my voice as we passed another room, where a DJ was spinning some experimental music.
I checked my watch, we were running a little late, but that was fine. I hated being on time. Besides, we didn't have to go far. My sister and her new toy would be waiting for us in the room.
The room we walked into had a much more casual lounge feel to it, it was still big, but it wasn't nearly as loud. I had a water fountain installed, the surrounding pool covered a full fourth of the room. It was an incredible feat of engineering.
The dramatic fountain lighting cast liquid blue shadows over Claire's whole body. I wanted nothing more than to lick them off her beautiful pale skin. I hoped this meeting would go quick, so I could pay Claire and focus on what I really wanted.
My sister, on the far side of the room, glared disdainfully at the half a dozen people that had taken their shoes off to walk in the ankle deep stone pool. She looked extremely out of place with her conservative pants suit, briefcase and deadly serious scowl. It was a look you'd expect to see from an overworked accountant deep in the red, or an undertaker.
“There she is. My loving, cheerful sister, Bianca.” I smiled at Bianca's disapproval and led Claire toward them. To say that my sister and I never got along would've been an understatement. Now we just need to convince her that you're my fiance.”
“Shouldn't we go over some details, like how we met or what our favorite restaurant is?” Claire slowed, there was apprehension in her voice. She was understandably nervous. Having a business conversation with Bianca was a lot like being in one of those shark cages. You're pretty sure the steel will hold, but if it doesn't...
“Bianca wont care about any of that,” I guided Claire forward. “Follow my lead and everything will be fine.”
I'd only made a few feet before Claire rooted herself to the ground behind me.
When I turned back to find out what was wrong, she was frozen. An angry and fearful look was plastered all over her face. I didn't know Claire well, but I could make an educated guess as to what caused her expression.
A man walked over to Bianca, drink in hand. He floated around Bianca, casually checking out the asses of the other guests. I immediately knew my sister was behind this.
“That's him, isn't it?” I sighed. Of course it was him. I was almost impressed at just how terrible of a person Bianca was. If that was who I thought it was, then she was even more clever than I thought.
“Yes,” Claire said. Standing by one of the room's massive windows overlooking the rest of the city, was my dark haired, older sister, and Claire's ex. “That's Chance.”
How? How did Bianca know! Hell, I didn't even know I who I was bringing until last night.
“His name is 'Chance'?” I snorted. That's the kind of name a 'da
ting guru' gives himself, to sound mysterious. Chance certainly did look the part, I knew right away I wasn't going to like him. “Please tell me that's a self appointed nickname.”
“I honestly don't even know. There was a lot he lied to me about.” Claire paused, forcing down bitter memories, then continued. “He's is a fucking monster. You need to warn your sister about him.”
“You don't know my sister.” Bianca was a shark, cold and ruthless, the idea of warning her about anything seemed ridiculous. I could almost guarantee she was the more dangerous of the two. “Those two probably get along together just fine.”
When I reached out to take Claire's arm, she winced. It was a subtle thing, most people wouldn't even have noticed it. But I was a man who paid attention to every little detail. I saw pain in her eyes, before she flicked them away.
“I won't go over there. I can't.” Claire's voice was a whisper. She was barely able to maintain her composure. What had this Chance asshole done to her?
Chance looked like a laid back surfer-type. He had perpetual half opened eyes and an easy laugh with all the women near him. His chin-length, dirty-blond hair was parted to one side and he was also deliberately under dressed, wearing just jeans and a cardigan. Fit and handsome enough, I could see why Claire had fallen for him.
“I—I can't be here, not with him here too.” Claire took her first step backwards.
“This is what I need you for. This meeting is what I'm paying you for. Do not leave.” My tone was harsher than I wanted it to be, but if she decided to burn me on the arrangement now, I'd be screwed. I dialed my desperation way back, and played it smarter. “Don't let that piece of shit decide what you do and how you act. Don't give him that control over you.”
“I can't—” Claire wiped at the tears that rolled down her cheek, then turned and left. “I'm sorry. I can't deal with this right now.”
Well, shit.
Her pleated skirt swished across the floor as she pushed through the crowd. I bought that outfit for her exclusively so I could tear it off of her, and now I just had to stand there and watch as she walked away. I took a few deep breaths of the filtered hotel air, trying to clear my nose of her scent.