Stacy grinned and her face turned absolutely devious. “Oh I’m contemplating. Actually, I’ve got us two tickets to the next event at the club. It’s on the weekend so you have like three days to get presentable. You better let me help you wax those eyebrows and your legs too. I’ll do your hair. You can borrow one of my dresses.”
“No! Stacy! I can’t believe you think I’m going to get dragged into this!” Christine folded her arms over her chest and sunk back into the couch. She was in the worst of moods and Stacy’s bold assumptions weren’t helping.
“Oh come on!” Stacy whined. She stuck out her lip in a pout again and her dark eyes became like that of a sad puppy. Christine sighed. Why did Stacy always have to do that to her? “Christine, you know that you’ve been my wingman ever since we were old enough to party. You can’t stop now! What if some gross guy hits on me? Who will be there to save me from making bad decisions?”
“I’m trying to save you now.” Christine laughed, despite herself. Stacy was just like that. She could always get what she wanted. She had her father wrapped around her finger. The only reason they were able to rent their apartment together was because her dad signed the lease and gave them the money for the damage deposit and first month’s rent. Stacy always knew just the right thing to say and do to make others fall at her feet. She was always able to get her way. Luckily she didn’t act like a spoiled brat. She was too down to earth and too kind, deep inside, to use her charms to her ultimate advantage. At least, most of the time.
“So you’ll go? Is that a yes? Come on Christine! You don’t have to get involved. I just don’t want to go alone!”
“How would we even get into the club? I thought you had to be twenty-one.”
“It’s an eighteen and over event. The bar is in a separate part and you have to be of age to get into that but we can still go!”
“Why don’t you take that Lisa girl?” Christine’s lungs deflated. She was fast running out of excuses.
Stacy made a face. “I don’t want to have competition!”
“If she knows how this works wouldn’t she be the best person for you to take?” Stacy seemed to consider that for a second. Christine could literally see her mind working overtime.
“No. I don’t think so. I just want you there. Even if you don’t know what’s going on, neither do I. I think it’s better that way. The allure of innocence.”
“Which we both know you lost that when you were fifteen.”
“Not that innocence!” Stacy burst out laughing. “So what if I’m more experienced. I think guys like that. Who wants a shy virgin crying and whimpering all night or fainting at the sight of a cock?”
Christine blushed. She had never told Stacy she was still a virgin. In fact, she’d led her best friend to think the exact opposite with innuendos and vague details about guys she had been out with. It had never amounted to anything but Stacy didn’t know that.
“Alright,” Christine sighed. “I’ll agree to go with you this once but only because I know that I’m never going to hear the end of it until I do. I want to save myself a few days’ worth of begging and pleading and bribery.”
“Bribery? I think you would like that. Promises of cooking or cleaning or laundry…”
“I’m going to collect in one way or other, believe me.” Christine got a mock serious expression on her face. “Like right now. I’m starving. If you could go out and get a poutine for me I would be undyingly thankful.”
“Yes!” Stacy jumped off the couch, already hunting around in her car keys. She was perfectly ready to rush out, purple pajama bottoms with little unicorns. “I’ll be back with it before you know it! And then we’ll go into my closet and find dresses. And start planning our hair and makeup.”
Christine groaned. “That sounds perfectly awful.”
“Who knows, you might even find someone there yourself,” Stacy threw over her shoulder before she snatched her purse off the floor by the door and walked out.
Chapter 2
The club was unlike any other Christine had ever been to. It reminded her of a gentleman’s club from a hundred years ago. She felt like she and Stacy had been transported back in time. The furnishings were all lavish. The dark walls actually had wainscoting and the ceilings, crown molding. The floors were actually marble in some areas, hardwood in others. Massive crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. People milled around drinking while a middle aged man dressed in a tux played a shiny black grand piano in the corner.
Leaning in close to Stacy, Christine whispered. “I feel like we’ve just walked into some country club where we don’t quite belong. I keep expecting to see people dressed in like 1920’s clothing or something. You know, flapper dresses and pearls.”
Stacy smiled. “It is weird,” she whispered back. A waiter buzzed by them and Stacy snagged a glass with some kind of cocktail. “This isn’t what I expected,” she admitted, taking a sip.
“Not at all. When you said club I thought of pounding music and sticky floors, dance floors, creeps and slutty dressed women.”
“I knew it wouldn’t be like that but I thought it might be a high end version of what you just described. This is just strange. It’s more like a mixer than anything.”
“I guess it makes sense if the point is to just meet someone instead of getting hammered and dancing like a moron, spilling your drink, drinking more, only to crawl home with some distasteful flavor of the night.”
“You paint such a pretty picture.” Stacy rolled her eyes.
“Well I hope we didn’t spend all day getting ready for nothing. I had better things to do with my Saturday than this.”
“I’m sure.” Stacy’s voice was dry. Christine blushed. She knew it wasn’t true she didn’t have anything better to do and Stacy knew it as well. It was embarrassing to admit just how poor her love life really was.
Stacy moved off to a corner with a fancy marble table complete with gold legs. She set her empty glass down there and surveyed the room, dark eyes scanning the men and women milling about, walking by, standing, and talking. In her tight black dress, hair curled into ringlets, makeup done simple, to accentuate her already stunning features, Stacy was gorgeous. She’d paired her dress with black heels that added definition to her already amazing legs.
Though Christine knew she was pretty, she didn’t feel like she was the right kind of attractive for a place like this. She was a good five inches shorter than Stacy’s six feet. Christine had a rocking body; at least she thought so, even if she never would have passed for a model. She was much too curvy for that. She liked her long, flaxen hair, green eyes, curved cheekbones and small lips. Her eyes were large, probably her best feature. Her skin was flawless. She knew men were attracted to her in a way they wouldn’t have been attracted to Stacy just because her cup size was a D and Stacy’s was a B and she had a full ass and rounded hips that Stacy did not. It was only in the rare moment that Christine envied her friend’s natural, model like beauty. This was one of those moments. Stacy attracted men who were more… refined, whereas Christine always seemed to have the wrong kind of guy hitting on her. So far no one had even looked her way. Though she wasn’t out to find someone, it still stung.
“I want to talk to someone but I don’t really know how to do it here… I feel a little out of my depth…”
“I don’t want to participate and I warned you about this,” Christine mumbled. She’d curled her hair and swept it up on top of her head for the evening. It was pinned so tightly it was starting to give her a headache. Her dress, which was supposed to be a blue flowy thing borrowed from Stacy, was a tad tight and she felt self-conscious and uncomfortable with the fabric straining over her breasts and ass. More than ever, she regretted agreeing to come to this stupid club.
“I’m going to go talk to that guy over there. He’s decent looking. I like his suit.” Christine glanced over in the direction of Stacy’s gaze. She spotted a guy, middle aged, trim, tall, broad shouldered
, wearing a light grey suit with a red tie. His dark hair was slicked back and grey at the temples. He was freshly shaved and Christine was willing to bet he looked a good ten years younger than he actually was. He was too refined for her taste. Too fresh and crisp.
She didn’t really have a type of man but if she did, he wouldn’t look like that. Christine would have been embarrassed to admit she was attracted to older men, like late thirties and more of the bad boy look. There were some men who could pull off the look even in a tux. That guy Stacy was interested in wasn’t one of those.
“Alright,” Christine said haltingly. “I… uh… what am I supposed to do though?”
Stacy glanced around, eyes scanning the crowd. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “Find someone to talk to? Even if you aren’t into them, it’s something to do I guess.”
Christine bit back the retort that was ready on the tip of her tongue. What she really wanted to do was leave. She hadn’t seen a single guy she was attracted to all night and they had been at the club for over an hour.
“I’ll just sit in that chair over there.” Christine indicated the red chaise at the far side of the room.
“Suit yourself. I won’t be more than a few minutes,” Stacy promised. Which really meant, in her lingo, more like half an hour, or longer if she was interested in the guy.
Christine watched her friend saunter off, hips swaying gently with her gait. It was Stacy’s natural walk, not exaggerated in the least. That was one thing Christine definitely did envy about her friend. Her natural grace.
Stacy approached Mr. Red Tie with equal measures of caution and confidence. She said something and actually extended a hand. The man took it, smiling already. The look on his face said he damn well liked what he saw. Christine groaned inwardly. She had a feeling she was going to be perched on that shapely red chaise for a very long time.
The thing was more comfortable than it looked. It was elegantly curved and upholstered with tiny little buttons. The legs were painted gold. Christine wondered, bitterly, why everything there had to be half done in gold. It seemed a little over the top to her. For the millionth time that night she thought of escaping and leaving Stacy to fend for herself.
Almost an hour later, Christine was ready to do just that. She pulled her cell out of her clutch and checked the time. It was just past midnight. She’d already put in two hours doing absolutely nothing. Surely that should be enough to satisfy Stacy.
Glancing across the room, Christine noted that Stacy was still busy laughing and talking with Red Tie. He seemed to be really into her. Christine thought bitterly to herself how disappointed Stacy would be if the guy turned out just to be a poser and not rich at all.
It was a mean thought and not like Christine at all. She tucked her cell back into her purse. Five minutes. She would wait five minutes. She would count to a thousand in her head and then she would leave. Stacy could find her own way home.
She started the count. She reached one hundred, then two. Three and four came and went. She was on eight hundred when a shadow loomed over her. Christine glanced up, way up, into the handsome face of the man who was standing a few feet from the chaise, studying her intently. Her mouth went dry and all thoughts of further counting were completely abandoned.
Chapter 3
“Good evening,” Curtis Hanson said smoothly. His voice was deep and sexy and he liked that it conveyed to this woman who had caught his eye, exactly what he intended.
The woman blushed delicately, two pink spots on her flawless, pale skin. She was gorgeous. Obviously she either didn’t know it or didn’t want to be there. She was perched on that chaise, alone, and had been for almost an hour. Curtis had been watching her since she came through the door with her taller, dark haired friend. The friend had abandoned her for some guy on the other side of the room and this woman, instead of hunting down her own prey, had preferred her own company.
He liked that. Her attitude presented just the sort of delicious challenge that Curtis enjoyed. He could tell, from the expression on the woman’s face that she found him attractive. Her pink lips parted slightly, the tip of her little red tongue darting out to moisten them. The action had Curtis immediately hard. He was glad for the loose slacks. It was perhaps the one advantage of having to put on the stupid suit in the first place.
He judged it now to be worth every penny. The woman’s eyes swept over his form and she liked that as well. Her eyes sparkled. Her desire was all over her face. Curtis suspected she was the sort of woman, who despite her attraction to him, would deny his advances. Therein came the challenge. He would enjoy the chase of convincing her to be with him. And later, with his friends, if he was so inclined to share.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Curtis framed the question in such a way that it was more like a statement of the contrary.
The woman looked a little like a deer in the headlights. Seeing that she wasn’t about to stand, Curtis took the liberty of moving to sit by her on that chaise. The thing wasn’t as hard as he expected. Like everything else in this place it was pretentious. He hated these mixers with a passion but it was the best place to find beautiful women who he could buy for a night or a week, or longer, if he chose. It suited his busy schedule just fine to have a woman on call with zero expectations for anything but a night of amazing sex for both of them. Of course, he paid for it but money was no issue for him. He had enough of it that it literally lost all meaning except as a means to give him, and the woman of his choice, what they both desired.
The woman blinked. Her hands came to her lap, her fingers twining. If she was nervous she did well to hide it though the stiff set of her shoulders gave her away. “Not so much,” she finally admitted.
“I see that your friend seems to have found a way to entertain herself.” Curtis looked towards the tall brunette.
“Yes I guess she has. I was debating about going home.”
“And now?” Curtis leaned forward. A lock of blonde hair fell into his face and he made no move to brush it away. His blue eyes never wavered from the woman’s face. He could tell she was young. Likely no more than twenty.
“I don’t know…” the woman stammered.
“I do,” Curtis said confidently. He reached out and placed a hand on the woman’s folded ones. She started, jumping a little when he touched her. A shiver ran through her body. Curtis grinned.
“You’re very sure of yourself,” the woman whispered.
“Should I not be? You obviously find me attractive. Or intriguing at least. You didn’t get up and move away right away. Did you not mean it as encouragement?”
The woman blushed again and Curtis found that he enjoyed the blush of color on her skin very much. He wondered what that beautiful skin would look like with the flush of passion on it. His cock jumped to life again, pulsing now with his desire for her. He smothered a groan and forced himself to think about something else. The rest would come soon enough. No need to move too quickly and scare her off.
“I don’t know. I don’t know how you should interpret it. Maybe I’m just trying to be polite.”
“Are you?”
The woman hesitated for a second. “No,” she finally whispered, eyes lowered. Her blonde lashes hit her cheek for a fraction of a moment before she looked up. Her eyes were like emeralds, the sparkles of the crystal chandelier overhead reflected there.
“If you were going to be polite though, you might tell me your name.”
“Oh. It’s Christine.” Her lips turned up in the ghost of a smile and Curtis’ stomach clenched painfully.
“Curtis.” He removed his hand from hers, the warmth of her body resonating on his palm for a second. He leaned in a little closer, apparently to whisper something to her. In reality it was just so he could breathe in her scent, to check if she had applied perfume to the curve of her neck. He was close enough that he could smell her hair, perhaps her shampoo or hairspray. It was something floral and delicious. He didn’t smell any perfum
e on her neck. Instead of being disappointed, Curtis was intrigued. He wondered where she had chosen to apply it. He would very much like to do a thorough search of her skin to find out.
Christine gasped and shifted away. She glanced with surprise into his face. She hadn’t expected him to be so brazen nor move so close to her. He liked her shyness. He had the feeling she was inexperienced with men. It made him desire her even more. He wanted to teach her, to show her, to be the one to introduce her to passion.
“And what do you want with me Curtis?” Christine asked nervously.
“Who says that I want anything?” Curtis leaned back, carefully composing his face. His voice was teasing and she knew it.
“I say you do otherwise why would you have come to talk to me? There are a hundred other women here better looking than I am and I’m sure, more interesting and more willing. Yet you signaled me out and came over here and sat down. That to me, says that you are interested at least.”
Curtis actually laughed. “Very perceptive.” He applauded her silently. She had more spunk than he would have given her credit for. She seemed so shy and so young he wouldn’t have thought her so easily able to read him.
“Yes well, I’m a waitress. It’s my job to know people.” Her eyes scanned his face and he wondered if she liked whatever it was she found there. “Or maybe that makes me unattractive now that you know I serve customers all day and wait tables.”
“Not in the least.” Curtis had been about to say that she could never be unattractive but he bit that back.
“Why did you pick me? Out of all the women here? They would certainly be actively looking for a man to spoil them. They would be willing to go on dates or do… other things. I just came for my friend. I have no intention of going out with anyone.”
“What a pity.” Curtis stood. He glanced down at Christine. She looked up at him with her liquid green eyes. Her lips parted again and he barely stopped himself from leaning down and plundering them. “I’ll be around here for the rest of the night… if you change your mind.” He left before she could say anything further. She didn’t call him back. He’d put the bait out there and, because he also made a living out of understanding people, he knew that it would just be a matter of time before she took it.
Pathological Therapy Billionaire Bad Boy Box Set Page 14