Roses lined the driveway of the massive grey brick structure complete with a gated entrance and rounded tower in back. It’s like a fucking castle.
After knocking on the door, a man with a French accent and dressed in a black suit led her into one of the rooms on the main floor. Pink and black decorations littered the ceilings, the walls, just like a bachelorette party. Looking around, she noticed a number of familiar faces — Sirena, Evie, Merry — as well as a few other women from the club she’d only met once or twice. She waved and Sirena motioned her over, presenting her with a catalogue and a glass of Champagne.
A few minutes later, Snow walked into the room, a petite blonde-haired woman with bright green eyes in tow.
“This is Scarlett, my sister,” she announced to the group. “She’s visiting from Austin.” Snow had mentioned Scarlett a couple of times, commenting on how she still had some growing up to do. When she found out Scarlett was coming home, Snow shared she suspected it was due to a lack of funds more than a desire to see her family.
“Great to meet all y’all,” Scarlett said, a bright smile and wave accompanying her hello.
Jayla laughed. “The accent is contagious, isn’t it? I lived in Austin for about a year. Picked up the accent quick. Took me some time to remember I wasn’t really from Texas. You live there a week and it’s like you’ve lived there your whole life.”
Scarlett and Snow laughed.
“I guess so,” Scarlett said, the southern twang still present in her voice.
Liz, the “Romance Consultant” for the night, interrupted, asking the girls to take their seats to start the party.
Plopping down on the couch, Champagne in hand, Jayla perused the pages in front of her — as did the others. Nervous giggles and whispers sounded around her. The pages in front of her held everything from the run-of-the-mill bullets, to a variety of … holy shit that’s huge! she thought, at one particularly endowed purple plastic cock, made to suction to a shower wall.
Large and small vibrators, butt plugs, and dildos, as well as a varying amount of different lubricants — all for different types of “play” — stared back at her. Reading some of the descriptions, her stomach clenched at what they might do for her. It has been entirely too long.
About a year after leaving Jeffrey, she’d felt brave enough to explore her sexual side. She began to watch pornography, learning things about herself she’d never known. For one, her biggest turn-on was the noises men made. Moans, groans … the growls. The small puffs of air, the curses at the first contact of a mouth, or pussy, against them. She had gotten off more times than she could count on audio porn alone.
She’d used her fingers mostly, trying a vibrator for the first time only recently. She’d been in Austin, walking along the 6th Street flea market when she found a … very interesting tent for eighteen and older. Inside were all forms of adult toys, including lubricants, condoms, even pipes for pot. She’d looked around so bewildered that the bohemian saleswoman had a good laugh at her expense before handing her a small pink bullet, telling her it was “on the house”.
Jayla quickly learned she loved that toy.
“Oh, my God! This one thrusts on its own!” Snow whispered excitedly, pointing toward a large vibrator near the back of the catalogue.
“That’s the TOM3000,” Liz commented, breaking into the conversation. “TOM, of course, meaning Total Orgasm Machine. I have it here, to demo for you later tonight. But first a few rules. Tonight, is all about us girls. I want to make sure you all have a great time, have some great drinks, and later … have some great orgasms. Any questions, be sure to ask. If you ask me a question I’ve never heard before, you win a prize! Make me blush, win a prize for you and a friend!”
Sirena’s voice rose over the laugher. “How can I learn to deep throat?”
Belle snorted. “First, you need to be willing to touch a guy’s dick.”
Sirena’s mouth opened in mock outrage. “Just because I have standards, doesn’t mean I can’t learn what to do for when the time is right.”
Liz broke in, ending the jesting. “There are a few tricks of the trade.” Lifting a book, she handed it to Sirena. “This book, Rock His Rooster, is all about the art of the blow-job. I also have a throat numbing gel if you’re interested.”
Sirena’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”
Winking, Liz confirmed, “Yup.”
As the laughter died down, Liz began with an icebreaker — a hilarious version of “hot potato” played with a buzzing vibrator, which Scarlett won.
Settling down once again, the girls listened with rapt attention as Liz began her sales presentation, starting with some of the more innocent items — pheromone sprays, massage oils, even a cream to rub on your nipples to make them tingle.
“Try before you buy, ladies,” she said, handing out q-tips and a small jar of the tingle cream. Jayla laughed out loud as she watched all the women reach down their shirt. Even funnier was when the squealing started. Trying some herself, she had to admit, the product worked as advertised.
“All right, bitches! Party is here!” Cynthia exclaimed, waltzing right up to Belle, nudging her over, sharing her spot on the couch. “And, Lord, do I need a good dildo in my life.”
“You’re, like, two hours late!” Belle squealed, giving her a hug. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
Cyn tilted her head, her smile mischievous. “An hour late, and of course I’m coming to the party. That’s the point, isn’t it?”
Laughing, she explained, “The witch I work for made me put her brats to bed first, even though she promised me she’d take care of them tonight.”
Looking up at Liz, she held her hand out in introduction. “Hi. I’m Cyn, and I’m a nanny by day and an orgasmaholic by night. Right now, I’m jonesing for a fix.”
Returning her smile, Liz didn’t miss a beat. “Just call me your dealer,” she teased, handing Cyn a catalogue and continuing on.
Three hours later, after Liz completed purchases and left, Jayla was relaxing into her third glass of Champagne. She’d bought a bullet, a small vibrator, and a toy cleaner for herself using some of the tip money she made over the weekend. She’d mulled over the purchases, not used to buying frivolous items, and almost changed her mind when Snow reminded her that the cost of her three items was akin to only about an hour’s worth of work. Thinking of it in those terms, she deserved to spend a little on herself … right?
Now, the women were laughing, drinking — just relaxing. Belle had invited all of them to stay the night, so they were free to drink and have a good time. For the first time in forever, Jayla felt comfortable and confident. These women, her new friends, had given her the ability to forget her past, if only for the night, and just have fun. It was what she’d been missing without even knowing it. She blinked back the tears.
“You okay?” Snow asked.
Jayla looked up and nodded. “Yes. I’m better than okay. You have no idea how much I needed tonight.”
Snow draped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m so glad we’re friends.”
“Okay, ladies, time for a shot!” Belle held a tray of yellow-colored shot glasses filled to the brim.
Handing each girl a glass smelling of lemons, Belle raised her hand. Cadence off from the buzz of alcohol, she hiccupped adorably as she spoke. “Thank you all for coming,” pausing, she laughed at the pun. “I mean for coming here tonight. I wanna keep having fun, so new game! Whoever guesses the shot correctly, gets to choose the next one!”
“Lemon drop!” Evie called out, jumping up as she did, spilling some of the liquid.
“Sneaky bartenders,” Belle laughed, motioning for the girls to toast. “To tonight, ladies.”
Downing the liquid, Jayla coughed into her hand. Vodka is definitely harsher than Champagne.
A little while later, she and a few of the girls headed outside on a back patio, glasses and another bottle of Champagne in hand. Large propane hea
ters kept them comfortable, but the winter air cooled off some of the heat from the alcohol.
“So … who’s having the next toy party? I give myself two weeks before wanting a new one,” Sirena exclaimed, looking around.
“I wish,” Jayla muttered under her breath.
Clapping her hands, Belle exclaimed, “Oh! Have one! You’ll get free stuff.”
“Can’t,” Jayla replied, shaking her head. “My apartment is, like, way too small.”
“You can have just us four,” Belle pleaded, speaking of the girls on the patio — Jayla, Belle, Sirena, and Snow. “Oh, and Cyn too, though,” she added.
Loose from the alcohol, Jayla spoke the truth. “No, it’s too small for even us five. I, uh … I came to New York with myself and the clothes on my back. And like, $250. I found this dilapidated little box of an apartment — a room, really — owned by this scumbag landlord.” She shivered, lowering her voice, “I swear, I think he goes through my stuff when I’m not there. The other day, my underwear drawer was definitely not the way I left it.”
“That’s horrible.” Snow made a sound of disgust. “You aren’t worried about him?”
Jayla shook her head, rolling her eyes with a sarcastic smile. “No. He’s skeevy, alright, but he’s a scrawny old guy. I’m confident if he tried anything more than being Creepy-McCreepster I could take him. I’m more grossed out than anything else. Besides,” she added with a sad shrug, “I can’t really afford anything different right now.”
Snow shook her head, her frown deepening. “You don’t have any family that can help?”
“No, I’m an only child, and my parents both passed away,” she lied.
Snow’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, “I’m sorry.”
“S’okay, I’ve been moving around from place to place for a bit, so I’m used to it. Besides, I liked getting to move around, see different places. I was in Miami before here but left after that shithole apartment got broken into.” This time, only a half-lie. She had been robbed in Miami, but that wasn’t what scared her to coming to New York.
“So, you went from being robbed in a little shithole in Florida to being violated by a creepy landlord in a little shithole in New York?” Belle asked, anger in her voice, before her eyebrows raised in concern. “Oh, my gosh, Jayla, that came out wrong, I’m sorry — I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just … that’s so awful. I can’t stand for one of my friends to be in a place like that.”
One of my friends. I like the sound of that, Jayla thought, sipping her Champagne.
“Come live here!” Belle exclaimed, eyes lighting up.
Jayla nearly sputtered the Champagne back into the glass. “What?”
“We have so many rooms we don’t use. We could hang out at night, or you could be alone and wouldn’t even know we were here! It would be great!”
“Belle … I,” she paused. No one had ever shown her the amount of kindness Belle had in the short time knowing her. Nor any hint of mistrust. Must be nice.
“Don’t say no. Just think about it. Please?” Belle urged, her gaze shifting over Jayla’s shoulder. Her smile grew as Aleksandr’s voice boomed from behind.
“Think about what?” he asked, moving to Belle, embracing her. Not caring the others watched the intimate moment.
Breaking apart, Belle laughed. “About moving in with us. Jayla’s apartment sounds horrifying.”
“Horrifying?” another deep voice sounded from behind, sending a shiver up Jayla’s spine. She already knew who it belonged to.
Alistair.
Belle rushed her words, slurring more pronounced. “Yeah, horrifying. Slumlord-who- goes-through-her-” hiccup “-panty-drawer horrifying. Tell her to live here.” Belle nodded her head as she spoke, as if she was full of conviction that Aleks would force the issue.
“That only works on you, kotik,” he commented, nuzzling her neck.
“‘Goes through your stuff?’ Is this true?” Alistair asked, voice laced with revulsion.
Cynthia’s voice from behind them prevented a response. “Let’s all do a shot! Since you guys are staying and all,” the leggy blonde stated, as she walked out on the patio with Gene on her arm.
“What?” Belle exclaimed, turning back to Aleksandr, the smile on her face part elation, part surprise. “You … you invited guys to sleep over? Aleks, this is huge!”
Rolling his eyes, he kissed her quiet. Jayla watched on, amused, yet not quite understanding the joke. She caught Alistair’s gaze. She hadn’t answered him.
“I’ll go find Evangeline. It’s her turn to pick the drink, right?” she said, hoping Alistair would forget the comment he overheard by the time she got back. She only made it a few steps inside before his hands caught her arms from behind, halting her. He pulled her into him, her back to his chest.
Alistair’s warm breath tickling her ear, he whispered, “You didn’t answer me, Princess.”
Her eyelids fluttered at the deep baritone vibrating through her — the hint of warning in the tone, coupled with playfulness, heating her blood. Turning her face to him, his lips were barely an inch from hers. Looking up, the deep mahogany color stared back at her.
“Well?” he spoke again, the air from his lips flowing over her own.
She wanted to be angry with him. Tell him to fuck off. She was still hurt he ditched her the other night, but with the scent of his cologne, the hardness of his body against her, his hands holding her in place — the alcohol — she struggled against the choice to pull away. Or to close the distance between their lips. He felt so good against her. I want…
Tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip, she made her decision.
Chapter Twelve
Alistair recognized that look but held her firmly in place. Her body tensing, she lifted ever so slightly onto her tip toes, her desire obvious. Her lips would be warm and soft against his. Does she taste as good as she smells?
Would I be able to stop with just a kiss?
As much as he wanted … needed her, it would be on his terms, not hers. And not until he knew who she really was.
Not until she knew who he really was.
He’d given her a glimpse in the dressing room — demanding, not asking, for her attention. He’d pulled her into his arms, pressed her against the wall. Allowed her to feel his arousal. The flush creeping from her chest to her cheeks, the parting of her lips, the gasp of air as her back hit the bricks, as he directed her neck where he wanted it. He was going to have her — and have her submit to him.
She’d barely spoken to him since opening night. She was angry he’d missed her performance, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d wanted him there, in the flesh, and he’d let her down. But he would make it up to her — he’d already spent almost every waking hour since planning to seduce her. He’d make her want him as much as he wanted her. Once out of her head with lust, he’d tell her about his … predilections, and she’d be too in need to say no. He’d start gentle, working his way up.
That plan was quickly going down in flames. The Champagne on her breath only tempting him further. Moving his head, grazing her face with his lips, dragging them against her skin, inhaling the sweet scent of her, he whispered darkly against her earlobe.
“Don’t start something you’re not prepared to finish, Princess,” he warned, a reminder for himself to keep his distance. For now.
“I’m not starting anything,” she responded petulantly. The softness of her skin under his fingertips, her steely defiance, sent another rush of blood to his groin.
Barely holding off the groan in his throat, and against his better judgement, he decided to tease her, craving her stubborn reactions. “That’s why you’re trying to kiss me?”
“Am not!” she whispered harshly. She turned her face, trying to pull away from his grasp, but he wouldn’t allow it. Tightening his grip, he pulled her back against the length of his body. He was certain she felt his arousal — the twisted part of him wanting her to feel him.
Smirking a
gainst her ear, he argued. “Yes, you are.”
She could deny him all day, but her body betrayed her. Reading people, determining what they weren’t saying one of his highly attuned skills. Right now, Jayla was screaming for him to keep pushing.
He’d happily oblige.
“Is that true? About your apartment?”
“It’s not important.” Her tone attempted defiance, yet with her whiskey voice, it sounded more of a plea.
Moving his lips down, his breath grazing her throat, she shuddered again. This is just as much as tease for me as it is to her.
With his mouth hovering over the sensitive area where her neck met her shoulders, he could feel her shaking with want.
Grazing his face against the area, her body shuddered before relaxing back into him, head resting against his shoulder — showing more of her neck for him in a subliminal show of submission.
“It is to me,” he murmured, his voice laced with promise of reward for her answer. The idea of her landlord taking advantage, even thinking about her panties, made his skin crawl. A primal urge to protect rushed through him, a proprietorship he’d never felt before.
At the thought that she might be anything but safe, his tone changed, indicating he wasn’t asking again. “Tell me. Is it true what Belle said about your landlord?”
It took a moment, but with a breathless reply, barely above a whisper, she spoke, “Yes.”
Good girl, he thought, her reactions cementing the idea of her being a naturally bratty submissive — needing to push back, but ultimately giving up control to someone deserving of it.
Craving both sides of her, the submissive, and the stubborn, he teased her again. “Now, was that so hard?”
As predicted, anger laced her words, body stiffening.
“You’re such a dick,” she spoke curtly, yet her tone not having lost the underlying arousal.
Got her.
Moving one hand from her arm to around her front, pulling her in by the waist, he pressed forward. If she hadn’t felt him before, her small gasp promised she had now.
Finders Keepers (Fairy Tales After Dark Book 2) Page 8