When the kiss came, it was hesitant, unsure. But when I didn’t push him away, it became more heated.
His tongue slid easily between my welcoming lips, probing and exploring. My body tingled under his touch, my loins cried out for more.
Eager to feel him atop me, I eased back until I was lying on the ground. Without releasing my mouth, Chester followed me down. He stretched himself over me, arms caging me.
Moaning hungrily into my mouth, he deepened the kiss.
I explored his body, touched every inch of him I could reach. My fingers stroked his back then cupped his ass. He murmured encouragement when I squeezed and urged him closer.
“Stella,” he said into my mouth. “This is so good.”
The plaintive, fervent sound of his voice had a sensuous effect on me, making me close my eyes in wonder. This man was a true treasure that I couldn’t easily cast aside. Unlike Jake, Chester seemed to want more than a physical connection. Unlike Jake, Chester longed to know more about me than how many pushups I could do. Unlike Jake…then a thought hit me. Why the hell was I thinking about Jake when Chester was doing such wonderful things to me with that lush mouth of his?
“What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly.
“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong. Why do you think something’s wrong?”
“You got all stiff on me.”
“Did I?”
“You do it almost every time I touch you.” Chester rolled away and sat up. “Wanna tell me who he is?”
Damn Jake to hell, I thought. Even when I was miles away from him he was screwing up my life. Sighing, I sat up. “His name is Jake. We’re not in a relationship…I don’t think…but we’ve had sex. Recently. A lot. So I don’t feel right about getting intimate with you.”
Chester was silent for a long while and I began to fear I’d done the wrong thing by telling him…and doing it so horribly to boot.
“So you want to take things slow?” he said, finally breaking the silence.
I nodded.
“Guess I can understand that.” He paused. “I like you a lot Stella. You’re different from most women. I can wait to have sex with you if time is what you need.”
I stared at him, too afraid to believe what I’d heard. “You’ll wait?”
“I want to be with you, but I want you to want me. I don’t like looking in your eyes and knowing you’re thinking about someone else. When we make love, I want it to be just the two of us. I don’t want you thinking about another man.” Saying this, he began to get to his feet. “Figure out how you feel about Jake and me. When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”
Could this guy be for real? “I don’t need time to decide who I want to be with,” I said, caught up in the moment. “I want to be with you. The only thing I need to do is make Jake understand how I feel. He’s sort of pushy.”
That was the understatement of the year.
CHAPTER TEN
2/13/05 8:17 a.m.
“Ann, it was amazing. It’s the best date I’ve ever had,” I told her the next morning.
“And all you did was kiss?”
I pulled the phone from my ear, stared at it, then rolled my eyes. “No, Ann,” I said into the transmitter. “Haven’t you heard a word I’ve said? We talked, we rode a horse, we ate dinner at a quaint family restaurant in Westminster, then he took me to the Inner Harbor and we walked. We walked and talked. It was amazing. I could talk to him forever. It wasn’t like I was talking to a man, but like I was talking to someone who’d known me forever. Like he could see into my soul and—”
“Shit, Stella. It’s not even nine yet. Could you please give me a break? It’s too early for this. I mean, what the hell did this guy do to you? When did you become a Julie Andrews wannabe?”
“Mock if you will, but I had a great time. I knew I should have called Katarina. She’d appreciate this.”
It was Sunday morning, well after eight, and I was still in bed and I didn’t care. I’d had an amazing time with Chester yesterday and had decided I was due a reward. Today I planned to lavish myself with chocolate treats and hours of Lifetime. I’d been so incredibly charming last night. And I hadn’t said or done anything stupid.
“Only because Katarina’s head is up in la-la-land too,” Ann was saying. “Not to bring you down to earth, babe, but what are gonna do about Jake?”
This was a question I’d been asking myself all night. What to do about Jake and Dev? Mentally, I wanted to stay as far away from those two as possible. My body, on the other hand, had other intentions. Even now, aglow in the memory of my wonderful date with Chester, my body tingled at the thought of Jake and Dev. Fortunately, my body wasn’t in control of things. I’d made up my mind this morning. “I’m calling Jake this afternoon and canceling.”
“You’re turning down a Jake and Dev sandwich? Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m a one man woman,” I announced, proud of my self-control.
Ann was quiet for a moment. Then she asked, “So do you and Chester have plans for tomorrow?”
“No. He left for Virginia this morning. He’ll be gone for a few days. He’ll be back by the weekend. Oh, that reminds me, he’s coming to The Oak Room with us on Saturday. I told him about Operation Lure and Deceive. Did Sean agree to pose as your date for the night?”
The thought of making Gerard jealous brightened Ann. “Yep. Everything’s set. Gerard said he’d be there at ten-thirty so Sean and I are getting there at ten.”
“Good.” I was about to say goodbye when Ann started speaking again.
“Hey. Katarina’s going out with Jim and Meagan has a date, of course. Wanna go to Club Blue with me tomorrow? They’re having an anti-Valentine’s Day ball. Everybody comes in black, as usual, and ladies get in free till nine.”
I shrugged. Now that I’d decided to turn down Jake and Dev, my night was free. “Okay. Wanna meet here at eight?”
“Cool. Later, babe.”
2/13/05 12:22 p.m.
“Why?” Jake asked again, despite the fact that I’d been on the phone with him for the last thirty minutes explaining that very thing. If he didn’t understand by now, he never would.
“I already told you why, Jake.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“Look. I don’t doubt how much fun we’d have if I came over tomorrow night, but is a few hours of great sex reason enough to risk having a relationship with a man who wants more than sex from me? There’s substance with Chester. He gives me pleasure on a level you reserve for Dev. I want more than sex, Jake. I want someone to talk with, someone who wants to talk with me.”
“We talk.”
“About something other than my weak body. For instance, do you know where I went to college, or what I majored in? Do you know if I have any siblings? Do you even know my last name?”
He breathed heavily into the phone for a few moments. When he began speaking again, he didn’t sound amused. “Your last name is Rice. Stella Rice. I don’t know where you went to school or what your major was because you’ve never told me.”
“You never asked.”
“Look. You said Chester’s out of town, tomorrow. Are you saying you’d rather spend Valentine’s Day alone than with Dev and me?”
“No, I’m spending it with Ann at Club Blue.”
“I’m not happy, Stella.” Jake said, in a voice that made me feel like I was in his kickboxing class all over again.
“I’m sorry, but this is something I have to do.”
“It’s not nice to make promises you can’t keep.”
“Come on, Jake. Don’t make a big deal out of this. You have Dev. You guys won’t even miss me. I’ll bet…” I stopped talking when I realized I was having a conversation with a dial tone. Jake had hung up on me.
“Well isn’t that nice,” I said to no one, then replaced the phone in its cradle.
In thirty years of life, making that call to Jake had been one of the most difficult things I’d ever done.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
1/14/05 9:27 p.m.
Club Blue was a mad house. Apparently, there were a lot of people who hated Valentine’s Day…and every one of them were packed on the dance floor. With a strobe light making the room flicker from total darkness to neon white, and the throngs of black-garbed people thrashing around to the techno music thrumming through the club, I felt like I’d stumbled into a Nine Inch Nails concert. I doubted I’d be able to escape any time soon. From the looks of Ann with her MGD raised overhead as she bounced to the beat, she was just getting started. I’d lost much of my fervor two songs ago.
It didn’t take me long to realize that dancing at a fetish club was a lot different than dancing at a top forty club. At a fetish club you didn’t dance so much as you ducked and swerved out of reach of the flailing fists coming at you from every direction. This wasn’t typical dancing. This was power dancing. The odd thing was that everyone seemed to be having such a good time. I’d been bumped, stepped on, and kicked. Basically, I was having the crap beaten out of me. On the positive side, I hadn’t exerted enough energy to even work up a sweat, which meant my hair was intact.
Deciding I wanted to see the fantasy complex in the basement,” I yelled to Ann, “Come on! Let’s have a look around!”
Ann pumped one fist overhead and shook her butt. “One more song!”
“I wanna see the fantasy complex! We can dance again later!”
Ann ducked, spun, then glanced at her watch. “Shit.”
I didn’t hear her curse, but I could see her lips form the words. “What’s wrong?”
“Stepped on!”
“You okay?”
Instead of answering, she grabbed my hand and led the way off the dance floor.
Getting away from the melee had proved far more perilous than remaining. If I managed to leave Club Blue tonight without a bruise somewhere on my body I’d count myself lucky.
“Aren’t they doing a spanking scene downstairs at ten?” Ann asked when we’d escaped to the relative quiet of the back stairway leading to the basement where hard rock music was pumping from its depths. “I almost forgot. I want to check that out. We should go down early and find a spot to watch.”
Having been spanked, the show didn’t hold much interest for me. Still, I wanted to get a look at what else went on down there. Last time I was at the club I’d left with Jake before I had a chance to explore. This time, I planned to see exactly what went on in the fetish area of Club Blue.
“I gotta run to the bathroom,” Ann was saying. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
She didn’t give me a chance to respond because she’d already spun around and started for the bathroom. I considered going after her, maybe checking my hair in the bathroom mirror, but decided to wait. I loved being away from a crowd too much to venture back into another.
“Stick a fork in me ‘cause I’m done,” I said to myself.
“You haven’t even begun.”
I jumped at the sound of the male voice then turned to get a look at the speaker.
The sight that greeted me would have been disturbing if I wasn’t in a fetish club. As it was, the leather executioner’s mask he wore seemed in keeping with the overall theme of Club Blue. So did the leather vest, leather pants, and leather boots. From head to toe this man was dressed in leather. The only visible parts of his body were his exposed biceps—very large biceps. He looked intimidating as hell. Not a person I’d like to come across in a dark alley, or anywhere else for that matter.
Thinking I was blocking his way to the stairs, I quickly stepped to the left.
When he didn’t descend, I began to feel uneasy.
“We can do this one of two ways,” he said. The swatch of leather covering his mouth muffled his voice, but he was near enough to me that I could make out his words. “You can go easy, or you can go hard.”
I didn’t know if Ann was playing a practical joke on me or if this guy was serious. “Go?” I asked him, honestly curious. “Go where?”
“With me.”
“I think you have the wrong person. I don’t know you.”
“Easy or hard, Stella. You got three seconds.”
I stared him up and down and sucked my teeth. “How do you know my name? Oh, who cares! I’m not into the fetish scene; I’m just a visitor here. Sorry, I don’t wanna play.” I began to turn. My intention was to go to the ladies room, find Ann, and tell her I was ready to go home, fantasy complex be damned. I’d only made it to the head of the steps and already I’d met a freak.
“Hard it is,” I heard him say.
Strong hands spun me around and took hold of me. In the space of two seconds the man lifted and cradled me as though I were a baby. Biceps flexing, his arms had closed around me, strong and sure.
If I’d been watching this happen to some Hollywood actress on the big screen I would have yelled at her to scream, kick, scratch, claw—fight. To do something other than sit there, mouth hanging open like a weakling. But I wasn’t watching it happen to someone in a movie, it was actually happening to me. Suddenly, I could understand why those actresses were always wide-eyed, frozen with seeming indecision. It wasn’t indecision. It was fear. Blind terror hit me with the force of a racing truck and I simply froze. I wanted to scream but couldn’t. I wanted to fight, but forgot how to move.
The shock of this stranger’s boldness barely registered before the next shock hit me. He was moving. He was descending the stairs at a jog with me in his arms!
Knowing this man could very well be a criminal with immoral intentions loosened my tongue. Even though we were the only people on the stairs, I screamed bloody murder.
He didn’t seem to care. Instead of my screaming giving him pause, he bounded down the stairs, skipping two or three of them at a time. I thought for sure he’d fall, and I was a goner more than once. When he reached the inter-floor landing I’d had no choice but to loop my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.
The floor of the fantasy complex was painted dull black and it was littered with lipstick stained cigarette stubs, sticky bits of chewing gum, and condoms still wet with white strings of semen. A fog of smoke rose in the air and specs of orange darted the outer corridor where onlookers, high from whatever drug cocktail they had partaken of, watched the scene unfold. They stood—barely—leaning heavily against the wall and looking like dazed zombies.
Music boomed from everywhere. Moans, screams, and other sounds from people in various stages of ecstasy drifted to me from darkened corners of the room when I was carried within.
With the paralysis I’d initially felt gone, I protested in earnest. I screamed, tried to kick, even tried to punch him now that we were on level ground, but nothing fazed him.
“Let go of me!” I screeched into his ear. In desperation, I leaned into him and bit his throat as hard as I could.
That got his attention. He froze, mid step. Abruptly, his grip loosened enough for me to squirm out of his arms. I landed hard on the floor, my feet moving before I‘d made contact.
I ran, mindful of the people watching me as though my dilemma was a performance designed for their enjoyment. Seeing the uselessness of screaming, I stopped and decided it would be better to retain whatever energy I could and use it to get away from this guy. But even as I came to that conclusion, footsteps closed in behind me. I could hear him breathing and feel the heat emanating off of his body as he approached. A second later, I was jerked roughly backward as the fiend got a grip on my hair and entwined one oversized fist in it. He pulled and I lost my footing. I fell to the floor in a mass of hair, legs and flailing arms.
The pain was intense. The sharp stinging in my scalp and the throb in my knees was nearly unbearable as he pulled me forward across the rough cement floor just outside the entrance to some private room where erotic music throbbed from within. A blue strobe flashed, making the room flicker between blackness and dim, baby blue light.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” the fiend said, belying his words by the gr
ip he maintained on my hair.
He was dragging me toward the back of the club. Toward the bright red exit sign.
Not good.
“Somebody help me!”
He laughed. “You think someone in this place will help you? Look around.”
That’s when reality hit me. I wasn’t being ignored. All around me people were getting whipped, beaten, and treated roughly. That’s why people went to the fantasy complex. To everyone else it must look like I was just another patron enjoying the pleasures of Club Blue.
On the floor above, where I’d just been minutes ago, the din of computer-generated guitars were muffled under the aggressive stomps of fashionable twenty and thirty-somethings releasing their pent-up frustrations of the week. I had to admit, my immediate future didn’t look promising.
“Let me go.”
In answer, he levered me to my feet, set an arm around my waist and lifted. He ran the remaining distance to the exit. All the while, my legs flailed uselessly in the air. He shoved his body against the exit door. It fell open, letting in a cold gust of winter air. Swirls of white powder drifted in through the open door as he carried me out into the night. The door slammed shut behind him.
“Please,” I begged, seeing hope fade as he carried me down the back alley beyond the dumpsters where the reeking stench of rotting food arose from inside.
He chucked me over a shoulder. When my exposed stomach met hard muscle, the wind was knocked out of me with such force it left me gasping for air.
Easily, he carried me past the back of the club and out beyond the reach of the dim orange security lights, and towards a black SUV parked at the end of the alley.
The pavement was slick with slush and ice, the same slush and ice Chester had predicted on our date.
As the fiend ran, I could see the SUV moving closer and closer.
The frigid winds whipped around my bare legs and goose bumps rose on my skin. My mind raced through the possibilities of what he would do to me. Rape? Murder? I should have gone to the bathroom with Ann. What would she think when she returned to the stairway and found it empty?
The Chronicles of Stella Rice: February Page 7