Disturbed

by Ashley Beale

  "Because heaven forbid you have any actual fun with him."

  "What is that supposed to mean?" I stop eating my cereal and give her my full attention this time.

  She smiles before shoveling another bite into her mouth so she doesn't have to answer me.

  "We have fun," I protest. "We've been on dates. We had sex on a mini golf course. We had sex against his wall. We got flirty at work. We..." Just as I'm thinking of more ways to convince her of the fun we have together the doorbell rings, interrupting us. I point a finger in her direction as I hop off my stool. "Don't think this conversation is done."

  "Shut up." Milk and crunched cereal falls from her full mouth as she speaks.

  I open the door to discover a man with a clipboard. He looks sort of like a package delivery guy but he doesn't have a uniform that would suggest so. "Ms. Donovan?" he asks.

  "That would be me." I feel like I should wrap a bathrobe around me with the way he looks me up and down.

  "I have a delivery for you. Could you please sign this?" He pushes the clipboard my way.

  I look it over but don't see what is being delivered. I don't recall ordering a package. "May I ask what it is?" I ask while holding the pen above the line.

  "I just deliver the packages, I don't ask what's inside."

  I sign the dotted line and hand him back the clipboard. After tucking it under his armpit, he leans down to grab the package. He passes me a small box and a garment bag. I barely get out a thanks before closing the door and walking over to where Clarissa is sipping milk out of her bowl. She places it down and looks at it. "What’s that?"

  "My question exactly."

  I unzip the garment bag and pull out the gown inside. I gasp when I see what is hanging from the hanger. The tag wrapped elegantly on the hanger reads Vera Wang Evening Dress. I'm glad the price isn't located on the tag or I'd probably faint. The top comes down like a faux halter, all in black leather, then it drops mid waist into a frilly tulle mess. Except it isn't a mess. It's an insanely gorgeous mix of black and white material, falling down in different lengths until it reaches just past my ankles.

  "What the what?" Clarissa speaks out. "That is the most gorgeous dress I've ever seen. My eyes are about to water. I'm finally in love." She hops off the chair and examines it. I can see her hands twitching. They want to touch it but she doesn't dare. I know exactly how she feels.

  I pass the hanger in her direction. "Hold this," I tell her. She cautiously grabs the hanger and holds the dress away from her. It’s as if she is going to ruin it just by breathing in its direction.

  Using a pair of scissors, I cut the tape to the box I was also given and I open it up. Inside is a smaller box holding a pair of Channel heels. I shake my head at it. I don't understand where these would come from. Definitely not the first few people that came to my mind. Clarissa is in too much shock, my dad can't afford this stuff, Blaise doesn't even know I'm attending the meeting, and Roman doesn't know what size I am or have any reason to buy it for me. I'm in shock.

  I lift the cover to the shoe box. Inside is a square little card placed on top of a pair of strappy black heels that must be at least three inches. Not too tall, but tall enough I'm going to feel like a giant. At least I'll be a radiant giant in that dress. Although, I’m not even sure I dare to put on the mystery dress, I may ruin it and owe someone thousands of dollars.

  I slip on one of the heels to discover it fits me perfectly. "So, Cinderella," Clarissa says. "Who are they from?"

  "You're effin hilarious," I spit out sarcastically. I slide the other shoe on too, just so I can get a feel for them. They're most certainly elegant and perfect in every way imagine. I'm in complete awe right now. I don't want to take them off. Ever.

  I open the envelope and slide the card out from inside. It's a small, flat card that is written in messy handwriting.

  Better than a prom dress. -R.

  I hold the card in my hand harder, not able to let go. I have to blink before reading it a second time. Then a third. And a fourth. No. It can't be from him. Why would Roman buy me such expensive stuff for a meeting?! A fucking meeting! He doesn't know me. Or my size. Or anything else for that matter.

  Except a gorgeous dress... obviously.

  A growl rips through my throat before I snatch the dress from Clarissa and storm down the hall.

  "Wait... is that a good growl or a bad one?" She yells after me. "Who is it from?"

  I don't answer until I get into my room and toss the dress on the bed. Something so precious shouldn't be treated so horribly but I can't help it. He makes my blood boil and I'm not even sure why! I slide each shoe off and toss them on the bed, making sure to miss the dress.

  "Damn him," I mutter.

  "Who?" Clarissa screams out in exasperation. She is all kinds of frustrated right now.

  "Roman! Who does he think he is?!"

  I harshly dig through my drawers to find clothes to wear today. "Um." Clarissa takes a second before speaking again. "Who is Roman?"

  Her confusion takes me aback for a minute before I realize that I never told her my boss's name. "My boss," I explain. "I told him that I didn't understand why we had to wear a prom dress to a meeting. This is his way of mocking me."

  She cocks her head at me. "Mocking you? You think he is mocking you? This is a Vera Fucking Wang dress. He isn't mocking you. He is obviously head over heels for you already!"

  "No." I stop her right there. "He doesn't even know me. Besides, he knows I'm with Blaise. This is ridiculous. I'm getting in the shower." I grab the stack of clothes on the dresser and head for the bathroom.

  It isn't a surprise when I hear the bathroom door creak open just minutes after getting into the shower. "I don't want to talk about it," I yell out for Clarissa.

  I hear the click of the toilet seat being shut. "I'm not saying anything."

  The silence becomes awkward fast. I peak around the curtain to look at her. She sits there, looking at her nails as if they hold all the answers to the questions she is dying to ask me. "I have all the same questions as you," I tell her. "So don't bother asking me."

  Without looking at me, she shrugs her shoulders. "Wasn't going to."

  I whip the curtain shut. While adding conditioner into my hair, I start rambling on about the situation. I'm sure it’s exactly what Clarissa was hoping to get out of me too. "I've been there two days. Two days. He is nice enough, but he creeps me out. He annoys me so bad. He is cocky and arrogant, and..."

  "Buys you expensive gowns and shoes to wear to his house."

  "No. I mean, yes, he obviously does that. But he does it because he likes being in control. He likes empowerment. I can't stand it. He glances at me like he is going to feast on me for dinner, and it not in the hot, sexual, needy way either. He is a predator and I do not want to be his prey."

  Clarissa chuckles from the other side of the curtain. "Do you hear yourself?"

  "Yeah. Crystal clear, thanks." I honestly can't figure out for the life of me why I'm being so snappy and pissy about the situation. He did something for me that no man has ever even dreamed of. I should be calling him right up, thanking him profusely, and finding a way to pay him back. I just can't find it in myself to do that.

  Maybe he isn't the selfish one. Maybe in reality it’s me.

  "From what you described, I'd have him feast on me anytime. I'd also let him shower me in gifts."

  "Whatever."

  I finish up in the shower and reach around for the towel hanging on the wall. Clarissa sits there as I get out of the shower and wrap another towel around my hair.

  "Can I do your hair and makeup for tonight? I want you to walk into his home flaunting what he got you and what you already have. You're going to be turning every head in that house tonight."

  "Fine," I groan. "If it makes you happy."

  "If you weren't so oddly stubborn about a wealthy, attractive man buying you things, you'd be happy too."

  I don't bother retorting. She is right, and we both kno
w it. Instead I just slip on the clothes I had picked out earlier and straddle the now vacant toilet seat. Clarissa wastes no time in brushing out my hair before blow drying it.

  For the next two hours I'm her canvas. She does a French braid that curves to the side of my neck, then curls the ends that hang loose. All the hair is bunched in different spots around the base of my braid using bobby pins to hold it up, but you can't see them. Some curls still dangle from my hair, giving it an added touch. It's the most elegant my hair has ever looked. Something you'd see in the wedding edition of Vogue.

  My makeup certainly enhances my eyes with the amount of black eyeliner she adds and the smoky look she perfected years ago. I use mascara almost daily but I've never gotten my lashes so thick or long before. I'm ultimately amazed at how Clarissa has made me look. I could walk a runway right now, and I'm only in jean shorts and a tank top.

  "Wow," I say, looking in the mirror.

  "It'll be better when I paint your lips with red lipstick. I'll do that right before you leave so it doesn't wear off."

  Dad knocks on the door frame to grab my attention, even though the door is wide open. I turn to face him and whatever words were about to come out of his mouth stumble. I've never seen his eyes water so easily just by looking at me. "Dad?"

  He shakes his head. "Sorry. You... you look just like her." He can't seem to even move right now. Not even to wipe the few tears that fall from his eyes.

  I can't find the words to say. I'm not sure if to be sorry about that or not. If anything, it makes me grateful. I like knowing I'm honestly beautiful enough to bring tears to my dad's eyes. Figuring that talking is pointless, I just walk over to my dad and wrap my arms around his shoulders. "I love you, Daddy."

  He chokes up, but manages to tell me he loves me too.

  I have to hold back my own tears, too scared to ruin the makeup that Clarissa just worked hard on. I take a step back from dad and smile up at him. He wipes at the few tears threatening to spill over once again. Clearing his throat, he finally tips his head back. "That boyfriend of yours is outside waiting on you."

  "Blaise?" I ask, surprised.

  "Yeah. He is just parked in the driveway."

  "Weird." I walk around my dad out of the bathroom and slip on a pair of sandals before walking outside to see why Blaise is just sitting my driveway. I know I didn't call him like I said I would, but he didn't try calling me either, nor did he text me back.

  Blaise is on his phone, sitting in his SUV with the driver's window down. The music is thumping some kind of rap music that I didn't even know he listened to. Another thing to add to the list of things I'm learning about the man I consider my boyfriend.

  I open the passenger door up and climb up onto the leather seat. Blaise doesn't even bother looking at me when I climb in. "I'll catch you at ten." He ends the call before dropping the phone into his lap. He turns to give me his full attention. I'm a little disappointed when he doesn't compliment on how nice I look right now. I can tell he was worried though, with the way his needy eyes stare into mine.

  "I thought you were going to call me?" he appropriately accuses me.

  "I’m sorry. I got caught up."

  "I see that." He looks me over real quick. He still doesn't compliment me and that bothers me greatly. "Where are you going all dressed up?"

  "Roman has a business meeting tonight. He told me the dress up. I am."

  "Roman? You call him by his first name?"

  I look down at my hands. Why do I feel like a dog with its tail between his legs? This seems extremely unfair. I shouldn't feel punished right now, not for doing what is asked of me by my boss. "Yeah," I squeak out. "Why are you mad?" I peek up from under my perfected lashes.

  He sighs with a small head shake. "I'm not mad, baby, I'm sorry." He reaches over and grabs my hands. "I just panicked when you didn't text me this morning, then again when you didn't call me, then you come out of your house all gorgeous saying you're going to Roman's house tonight, looking like... that. It's hard for the insecurity not to come out. You look beautiful though."

  Tingles invade my insides. I adore the fact he is jealous when he has no reason to be. He just proved in all the ways he can that he wants me to want him, and only him. I'm perfectly fine with that, too. "Blaise, I'm yours." I lean in closer to him, ready to kiss that delicious mouth of his. "The office is having a business meeting at his house, then I'll be coming directly home to snuggle in my bed, thinking about you. Only you. Then hopefully I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

  He smiles quickly before adding a kiss to my soft lips. "Can I tell you something?" he whispers against them.

  I back up enough to show him he has my full attention. "You can tell me anything."

  "I know it’s early, and this may sound ridiculous, but I can already tell I'm in love with you, Liv."

  I swallow back the sudden emotions. He just said he... he loves me. Blaise Cole is in love with me.

  Pinch me, please.

  Or don't.

  "I've known since the moment I met you that I was falling hopelessly in love with you as well."

  "Can we go for a drive real quick? Somewhere where your dad isn't peeking through the curtains to spy on us?" Blaise chuckles softly.

  "I just have to be back soon so I can get dressed for tonight."

  A growl reverberates through his throat when he starts the car. He glances over once more before backing out of the driveway. "Please nothing too sexy."

  "No, not sexy at all. More like fun and adorable." I bite down on my lip to contain the smile of wearing the most expensive thing that has ever had the opportunity to grace my fingers.

  Blaise drives us down the road to a small park. He pulls into the driveway but instead of parking, he drives the car into the path made for off road vehicles, like four-wheelers. "What are you doing?" I ask.

  "I wanted privacy for a reason."

  He parks it and shuts the engine off. He peeks into the backseat before looking over at me. "Ladies first."

  "Wait... what?"

  Blaise chuckles. "Come on, baby. You've had me worried all day." His hand reaches over and caresses my inner thigh. "I need you. Now."

  I'm instantly wet from hearing those words leave his mouth. Without any more hesitation I climb into the backseat. I'll never be able to handle things if we get caught, but the idea of it has added another thrill deep inside me. I slide over in the seat to give Blaise enough room. "You're going to have to be on bottom. I don't want my hair messed up," I tell him.

  He sits in the middle seat and yanks down his jeans with his boxers. "You're going to ride me." It isn't a question. He knows what he wants, and he is going to get it.

  I unsnap my shorts and slide them down my legs, leaving them laying at our feet. I straddle Blaise's lap and slowly burry his cock with my pussy. He feels so much larger this way.

  Blaise grabs my hips and helps me work my way up and down on his shaft. At first it’s slow, while we both absorb every possible sensation we give one another. Each thrust becomes faster and faster, until it becomes so intense that I can't help myself from clenching around his length. My body becomes euphoric on top of Blaise. I scream out in ecstasy as I continue to ride him.

  When I feel his release, I lower myself onto him completely. My body presses against Blaise. I just want to sit here for the rest of the evening. I don't want to leave him, especially not to go Roman's for the meeting. "Why aren't you going to the meeting?" I ask.

  I only know he isn't going because when Stephanie messaged me the details, it included the statement that only in office employees would be there. I know that Blaise isn't part of that. I think he should be able to go anyways, being that he works for Roman and the company.

  "I wouldn't even if it were required. It’s all a show he puts on for the higher ups."

  "What do you mean a show?"

  "Nothing. I should probably get you back before your dad suspects anything more."

  I whine for a split second. I don't wan
t to get up, but he is right. Plus, Clarissa is at the house and I can guarantee she is angry with me for just up and leaving like that. It was rude of me, but this is Blaise... and I can't deny he has me wrapped around his perfect little finger.

  Blaise drops me back off at my house once we're both dressed. I had asked if he wanted to come in but apparently he had plans for today, and was only supposed to be stopping in to check in with me. I made sure to give him a kiss before he took off with promises that I'll call him when I'm back from the meeting tonight.

  Clarissa is chatting with my dad when I walk into the kitchen. They both pause their conversation to look at me as the screen door closes. "What?" I ask.

  "Turn around," Clarissa orders.

  Without question I do a three-sixty. Facing Clarissa again, I pinch my face and ask, "What was that about?"

  Her eyes narrow in my direction. "Just making sure your hair isn't messed up."

  My face turns bright red. She just insinuated that I had sex with Blaise in front of my dad! How embarrassing! "We just went for a drive," I snap at her. "Don't be gross."

  Dad clears his throat and looks towards the window. "I think the race has started." He gets up from the table, grabs a beer out of the fridge and makes his way to the living room, not looking in my direction.

  "Thanks for that." I give Clarissa a nasty look. "Not embarrassing or anything."

  "Shut up. It's not like he thinks you’re a virgin."

  "He could think that!"

  "You're going into college in a week. Please."

  "Whatever. You staying for supper or you heading out?"

  She looks at me all smug. "And miss you going to your royal banquet? I think not."

  "I'm not going to a royal banquet." It comes out more like a question than an actual statement.

  "Wouldn't know the difference in that ball gown."

  I sigh. "You're so frustrating!"

  She shoves a chip into her mouth while giving me a wry smile. "But you love me anyways."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah." I walk past her towards my bedroom, leaving her behind to veg out on junk. I'm too nervous to actually eat anything. I've never done anything so formal, especially for a job. In my boss's home nonetheless.