by Vivien Vale
The caffeine has helped clear my alcohol haze a little.
My phone is remaining silent. If she got my message, she’s not responding.
A dark cloak wraps around me. Have I really blown it? Is this already the end of the road for Chloe and me?
If I can’t fucking explain my side and say sorry to her, how can she ever forgive me? And I can’t do any of those fucking things if she does not return my call or answer any of my messages.
With a shake of the head, I drain my glass. What’s the fucking point of delaying the inevitable? May as well head home and do what?
Fucking drink some more.
Fuck.
The more I drink, the more it hurts.
Fucking alcohol doesn’t solve the fucking the problem.
I feel someone touch me on the shoulder.
It’s a soft touch.
A familiar perfume wafts in my direction. My insides feel as if they’re put into a vice and squeezed so tight I can barely breathe.
“Excuse me.” And there’s the familiar voice. The one that can caress my ego and tip me over the edge, drive me mad with desire. “Excuse me.”
I turn to look at her.
I can’t believe my fucking eyes. I pinch myself to make sure I’m not imagining it.
It really is Chloe.
And boy does she look fucking hot.
“What do you think a girl has to do to get a drink around here?”
She’s smiling at me.
Fireworks erupt in my head. And an orchestra is providing the music to the display.
“Let me get you something.” My voice is croaky.
She bows her head a little.
“I’ll have what she’s having.”
We both laugh.
Who hasn’t seen the infamous scene of When Harry Met Sally?
Fuck, I’ve missed her. I love her fucking way of thinking. She’s on my wave length.
I signal Theo.
“A drink for the lady.”
A minute or so later, Chloe has her drink in front of her. She turns to me.
“So tell me,” she tilts her head a little to the right and stares at me with her puppy eyes. “What’s a handsome guy like yourself doing all alone at this bar on a Friday night?”
I grab the lifeline she’s thrown my way.
“I’m waiting for my hot and sexy girlfriend to arrive.”
She smiles and sips on her drink.
“And when she gets here, I want to tell her how sorry I am for what’s happened. And ask for a reset.”
Her eyes blink a few times. She nods.
“You mean like you press clear or delete on those little electronic devices we call mobile phones?” She asks, teasing.
I laugh and nod.
“I guess you could say that.”
“What do you think this hot and sexy girlfriend of yours will say?”
I shrug.
“I hope she’ll understand and forgive me.”
She seems to ponder my words for a while.
I take the opportunity to feast my eyes on her. She’s wearing the tightest of blood red tops and matching tight red skirt.
Her legs are covered in black tights with a seam going up the back of the leg. She looks so fucking hot I can barely contain myself.
“I don’t think I’ve introduced myself properly.” Her voice rouses me from daydreaming and perving on her exquisite body.
I focus on her and I find myself staring at her outstretched hand.
“I’m Chloe. I’m a top-notch dating assistant.”
I arch my eyebrows.
“Sounds fascinating. Do tell me more.”
Her long fingers play with her straw.
“I help billionaires find the loves of their lives.”
I nod in understanding.
“And the way I do this is by pretending to be a man. My alter ego is called Mr. BadBoy,” she continues.
“Wow. That must be fascinating work.”
She beams at the compliment.
“Now that I’ve had the honors, I think I should introduce myself.”
I shake her hand.
When our skin touches I feel electric shock waves rip through me. I don’t want to let her go.
“I’m Aaron. I own an exclusive business called Thebadboys.net. My aim is to help billionaires find their perfect match.”
Chloe laughs.
“Sounds like we might have a lot in common.”
I nod. How fucking easy was that?
“Tell me,” she leans forward and I catch a glimpse of her red lace bra, “what’re we going to do while we wait for your hot, sexy girlfriend to get here?”
I restrain myself from cupping those delicious tits that are within arm’s length of me.
“That won’t be a problem.”
She smiles.
“She’s already arrived.”
I stare at her luscious lips and let my finger trace over the outline.
My cock’s throbbing in my pants.
Is this really happening? Am I having some sort of hallucination?
“Can you pinch me?” I whisper and I see her questioning look. “I just want to make sure you’re real.”
Now she’s giggling.
Her lips are hovering near my ear. She starts to nibble on my ear lobe and whispers.
“Still not sure if I’m real?”
I sigh.
“What’s taking you so long?”
Instead of a reply, she continues to caress my face with soft kisses. I feel as if butterfly wings are moving across my skin.
Wow.
“So tell me, Mr. BadBoy,” I mutter. “What’s going to happen next?”
Her kisses stop, and she looks at me.
“Well,” she starts. Now her fingers walk up my leg. “I have a few suggestions. We could…” she does not finish the sentence but leaves her words hanging.
“Chloe,” I cup her head between my hands, turning serious. “I want you to know I want you. I mean, I’ve realized I’ve fallen in love with you. I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you. I was stupid.”
Chloe puts her index finger to my lips.
“You weren’t the only one who made a mistake. I’m just as much to blame for what happened as you are. I’m sorry too. And I also want to be with you. And I also…am falling in love with you.”
For a moment, the world seems to stand still. It’s as if only the two of us are in the world. It’s the most magical moment.
I want this moment to last forever. My heart is filled with happiness and I feel as if I’m drowning in her eyes.
Slowly, I lean forward.
Her lips open a little in anticipation of meeting mine. I press down on them gently. They’re soft and delicious. She melts into me. My tongue probes and is allowed entry into her inner sanctum. I explore and engage with her tongue.
We are locked in this kiss forever. My hands find her lower back and the back of her neck. I push her toward me.
My insides feel as if they’re melting.
Her hands wrap around my neck. I feel her move closer to me. I want to scoop her up like ice cream and devour her. My cock’s throbbing in my pants and I can feel little ripples of pleasure take hold of her body.
I release her slowly.
“Shall we get a room?” I whisper into her ear and she nods.
“Put it on my tab, Theo,” I call out to the barman and escort Chloe out the door.
As we walk, I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her possessively toward me.
I won’t be letting go of my girl any time soon.
My girl. I play with the expression. It’s fucking corny, but it’s straight to the point.
Chloe. My girl. And if I play my cards right, the only girl. Forever. I know Ben’s going to love her.
But there’s time for all that later.
For now, I can’t fucking wait until we get a room.
Chloe
I've gotta hand it to Aaron. He has this terribly over-the-top way of
delivering apologies.
When we agreed to get a room, I thought we were grabbing a cheapo by-the-hour rental at the closest hotel that would have us. I was prepared for the worst. Weird stains on the comforter. The faint smell of cigarettes. A demanding cleaning lady popping in halfway through. And I would have endured it all, too.
That's how bad I want him. Kicking a bossy cleaning lady out of our fuck-room bad.
And for the record, I'd still do it, too.
But of course, I should have known better. I've got to learn to stop underestimating Aaron. I seriously do. He's a billionaire, for fuck's sake. And, I think, he's a romantic at heart. He wouldn't have started a dating site for a living if he wasn't.
If only the other women with profiles on Thebadboys.net had any idea of how good they could have it. He’s always been the best catch.
With Aaron, I'm pretty sure I'm never going to see the inside of another budget hotel room ever again.
He lets the key fall to the floor as we tumble through the doorway, kissing and laughing and stumbling inside. The door slams behind us and the smell of roses fills the air. The perfume of fresh flowers wraps around our bodies like warm blankets on a cold night.
It's only when I pull away to have a look at the place that I realize it's not just air freshener. Somehow, he's managed to fill the room with roses. With less than twenty minutes notice.
"How the hell…?" I ask, looking at him like he must be magic. Yer a wizard, Aaron!
Aaron only grins his sly, sexy grin.
"I might've taken certain measures in preparation," he admits, running his fingers up and down my spine. "When it comes to the forgiveness of a sexy-ass fox like you, Chloe…well, you can't blame a man for getting his hopes up."
"There has to be like, a hundred roses in here, Aaron!" I can hardly bring myself to look away from his gorgeous face, but the sight of a hundred roses is compelling enough that I manage it.
They're everywhere. Spilling over the top of the dresser. On the vanity, reflecting beautiful waves of rose red into the mirror. On the floor by the window. And, of course, on the bed.
And holy shit. The bed. The fucking bed.
"I wanted to say I'm sorry in the only way I know how," Aaron admits as I slip out of his embrace to have a look at the bed he's booked for us.
White silk sheets. A heart shaped mattress. It's placed up on a low pedestal, so I have to slip my shoes off to tiptoe up two steps before I lay back on it.
When I do, it starts to rotate. Spinning, nice and slow.
"What the fuck is this place?" I giggle in delight.
"I told them I wanted the most romantic room they could give me. I guess this is the honeymoon suite."
I sit up on the bed, then take to my knees as Aaron approaches. He's loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves as he prowls towards me like a lion stalking a very willing piece of prey.
"You're too much," I say, licking my lips.
"Tell me something I don't know."
I fucking want him. More than I've ever wanted another man in my entire life. Despite all of the shit we've been through. Despite all the falsehoods and confusion and half-truths and outright lies.
I want Aaron. Not just for the night, but forever.
"I love you," I say. Not in the soft, sweet way that you're supposed to say it.
No, I use my slutty Chloe voice. The one that makes that smile on Aaron's face turn dark with desire in an instant.
"Is that so?" he asks.
Aaron pounces on the bed, grabbing for me, but I'm too quick for him. I scramble away, smiling like fucking idiot.
"Does that do it for you, Aaron?" I tease. My fingertips trail along the curves of my breasts as he stares. "Is that your kink?"
"Depends," he says, lunging for my ankle. I pull it away just in time. "Do you mean it?"
We're rolling around on the bed like assholes, caught in some predatory dance that predates ideas like love. Every time he reaches for me, I manage to evade him.
Which is silly, because I want nothing more than to feel his touch.
"I might," I say, finally dropping to my hands and knees and crawling towards him.
"I might mean it back," he says, reclining back on the mattress and letting me take him.
I wrap my fingers around his tie as I straddle him. He looks good in a tie, but he looks even better out of his clothes completely. I yank it free of its knot and go for his shirt next, tearing it open until I can kiss the delicious lines of the muscles of his chest.
"Don't lie, Daddy," I coo at him. I lick all the way up his sternum to his chin, leaving a hot trail of saliva along the center of his neck. "You adore me."
"I adore you," Aaron says. He runs his hands over my body and I fucking purr. "But I'll adore you more if you get these fucking clothes off."
"Make me," I challenge him.
I've never seen the world spin so fast before in my life. Suddenly, I'm the one on my back. Aaron is on top of me. The roses on the bed cradle my shoulders, soft silken petals against my soft silken skin. We crush them into the sheets as he kisses me.
It's a good thing he's a billionaire. These sheets are definitely going on his bill.
Aaron's lips are soft, but his kisses are hard. And they're not the only thing that’s getting hard, either. I wrap my legs around him and I can feel it. His cock, bulging against his pants, just begging to be unleashed.
Now, destroying the room is the last thing on my mind. Or maybe, it's the first. I want to wreck this place with him, leaving cum and honey and spit and love all over it.
He breaks the kiss to tear my fucking clothes off.
"Fuck," I breathe. "Aaron, I love you."
"Baby," Aaron says with his face buried between my tits. "You'd fucking better."
His tongue worships my body. I can't get enough of it. We're covered in rose petals, but what I'm really into is Aaron's scent. The smell of him, his cologne and beneath it, the warmth of his skin, has me drunk with lust.
My pussy is wet as he kisses his way down my stomach, and when he tears my panties off with his teeth, I swear I nearly orgasm then and there. Which is only a brief little taste of what Aaron can do. An appetizer, and my cunt becomes his main course.
He spreads my pussy lips wide open with his fingers. I can feel him inhaling with his nose between my legs, breathing me in. But smelling quickly leads to diving in for a taste. His mouth cups around my clit so hard that it makes my eyes roll back. My body ache in wanting. I know I'm going to come for him, I just don't know when.
I grab his hair, forcing his mouth deeper. Smearing my honey all over his cheeks and chin and nose. I want him to smell like my cunt. Taste like it. I want him to leave this hotel in the morning with my juices dried on his face. I want whatever poor bastard gets into the elevator with us to smell it on him and know exactly what he was doing last night.
He pulls away for a second to say something, but between the messages we've sent as Mr. BadBoy and Ms. Winters, and the heartfelt little scene we had back at the bar, I think we've done enough talking for now.
I hook my calves over his shoulders and trap him with my thighs, pulling him back in.
I can feel Aaron shift against me. I hear the clang of belt and the teeth of his zipper being spread open as he doubles his efforts, lashing out against my clit like it's been a very bad girl that needs to be punished.
He's masturbating, I realize. Jerking himself off while he licks my pussy.
Something about that is too fucking hot to handle. I hyperventilate while I orgasm against his lips and my body spasms against the rose petals and silk sheets. Every time I breathe in, I smell roses and him.
Aaron
I breathe in like it's the first time I've ever felt air in my lungs.
When I come up for air, it's Chloe that I'm breathing. The scent of her cunt that’s dripping wet and flushed dark and red as the roses that she lays on. I can see her mouth open, moaning and screaming, but I can't hear a damn thing. I
t's like my head is under water and the world has slowed, almost to a stop. Time passes like it's being measured out through a sieve.
In slow motion, the bed rotates. But it's not the bed that feels like it's spinning. It's the room around us. Here, on these ivory silk sheets, it feels like the universe has fixed itself to one point.
Chloe lays back on the bed, her body convulsing in orgasm. It's as if I can see every twitch of her muscles as they spasm involuntarily. All the little details that I usually miss, suddenly I can take in as completely as I want.
Her fingers, clutching at the sheets. Balling them up in her fists, pulling them towards her. Like she needs something to hold on to, or else she might float away.
Her hair, spread out beneath her like she's been dropped into a Botticelli painting. She's crowned by crushed roses and framed by their petals, staining the sheets. Her face is twisted in agonizing pleasure. Her chest heaves and falls, her breasts bouncing like rough waves on the ocean.
If I could make time stand still in that moment, I damn well would.
But just as quickly as it came, the moment breaks. Chloe opens her eyes and her body stills. Now, I watch the rise and fall of her chest in real time. I swear, either I'm hallucinating or I can see her heart pounding against her rib cage beneath her hard, rosy nipples and perfect tits.
I'm in love with this woman. There's no fucking denying it anymore. She's got my heart squeezed tightly between her beautiful little fingers in the same way she holds the sheets.
When our eyes meet, she smiles, and suddenly, I know exactly what I want to do for the rest of my life.
Fuck the website. Fuck the money. Everything else is secondary in this instant.
As long as I have Chloe, I don't need anything else.
I run my hand down her body, from her neck to her navel. It almost feels wrong to touch her at first.
She's so fucking beautiful like this, bathing in the glow of post-orgasm, that she seems like something that ought to be on display in a museum. Something that you're not allowed to touch, for fear it might fall apart beneath your rough fingers.
But when I touch her, she rises to meet me, and then touching her feels like the only think I know for sure that I ever want to do again.
My every desire, every want and need and goal for the future, reshapes itself around the way her skin feels beneath my fingers. The way the slender mound of her cunt rises to meet the palm of my hand. When I move to cup her pussy with my fingers, I realize how perfectly my hand fits between her thighs.