Nightclub Surprise

by Michelle Love

  ‘I promise.’

  Harpa sighed and then got up. ‘I need to take a shower then I’ll cook something.’

  Cosima shook her head. ‘No, don’t worry about it, we’ll just order in tonight.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yes, now go grab a shower; I need to take one too.’

  Just as Harpa was leaving the room, Cosima called her back. ‘What about Seattle?’

  Harpa half-smiled. ‘I’m still going to Seattle, Cos. No man’s going to stop me from my dreams.’

  An hour later, Harpa opened the door to Arlo Forrester. The two of them sized each other up.

  ‘Well,’ said Harpa, stick her hand on her hip and trying not to grin. God, he was gorgeous – lucky, lucky Cos – but she’d be damned if she’d let him know that. ‘I suppose you’ll do.’

  Arlo grinned widely. ‘I’m pleased that her Majesty is satisfied.’ He bowed extravagantly, and she giggled, standing back to let him in. He was dressed casually, vintage t-shirt and jeans, his hair short and dark, his dark eyes twinkling at her. Friendly. Warm. That was the impression she got.

  ‘So, it’s good to finally meet you, Harpa, and I’m sure all the terrible stories Cosima had told me about you aren’t true.’

  Harpa grinned and swatted at him. ‘I can tell you’re trouble. Cos! Your fuckbuddy’s here!’

  Arlo choked with laughter. Harpa led him into the kitchen. ‘Want a beer?’

  ‘Sure, thanks.’

  They sat down at the kitchen table. ‘Hey,’ Harpa took a swig of beer, ‘I had some leftovers of that curry you helped make. Pretty good. For an amateur.’

  Arlo smiled. ‘Glad you think so – maybe when you’re a five Michelin starred chef, you can tutor me and help me perfect it.’

  Harpa flung her hair back. ‘I’ll be too busy cooking for Kings and Queens.’ But she grinned at him. ‘So…you and my sister…is it all revoltingly mushy and stuff?’

  ‘Completely revolting.’

  ‘Excellent. Hey…’ She looked up as Cosima came in, her dark hair still slightly damp from the shower. She watched her sister’s eyes light up when she saw Arlo; saw the tender way the man stood and kissed her, stroking her face, gazing at her. So much love, Harpa thought and felt a pang of both sadness and relief. Deacon had never looked at her like that…so it couldn’t have been love, could it? She pushed her feelings aside and went to get Cosima a drink. She excused herself and went to the bathroom and could hear Cosima talking in low tones to Arlo.

  ‘Don’t mention Deacon, the fucker just broke up with her.’

  ‘Ah man, poor kid. From what you told me, she could do better. Let’s just cheer her up tonight, hey?’

  Harpa felt warmth in her chest for her sister’s boyfriend. What a good guy he was…Harpa went to the bathroom, washed her hands and face and sat down on the edge of the bath. Her mind felt muddled, blurry. She had been right when she told her sister she was still going to Seattle – her place at catering college was set, her funding was in place, her college room booked. Jack had gone ahead to set things up and in less than a week, she would be boarding a plane to fly to the Emerald City and begin her new life there. Alone now. She tested her heart and found that it was not a smashed as she thought it would be. Definitely repairable.

  She looked in the mirror and smiled. A new life, she thought, one of my own making.

  A new life…

  Cosima wrapped a blanket over her sister’s sleeping frame and put the note beside her.

  Gone to Arlo’s hotel so we don’t wake you. Call if you need anything. Love you xxx

  Arlo was waiting by the door as she crept out and smiled as she took his hand. ‘She’s adorable,’ he said as they walked down the stairs. ‘I could beat that dude’s ass for dumping her like that.’

  Cosima nodded grimly. ‘Join the queue. Still, at least she seemed cheerful, and I’m glad she’s still going to Seattle.’

  They were in the car when he nodded to a black sedan parked across the street. ‘That’s my guys,’ he said softly, studying her for her reaction. ‘I cleared it with Jack, and he’s cool with it. There will be six guys, two every eight-hour shift. They won’t get too close, but they’ll be vigilant. Same for you when you’re not with me…in fact,’ and he looked a little sheepish, ‘they were there outside your office this morning. Hope you don’t mind.’

  Cosima considered. ‘Well, I certainly didn’t notice them, so my answer is no, I don’t mind. As long as nobody else is affected by them.’

  Arlo leaned over and kissed her, grinning. ‘I honestly don’t care who is affected if it means you’re safe.’

  She cupped her face in her hand. ‘Arlo Forrester…you need to drive back to your hotel right now because I’ve got something for you…’

  He gave a growl and started to the car, making her giggle. Halfway back to his hotel, he suddenly pulled off of the route and drove out of the city. She looked at him curiously, not worried but a little surprise.

  He grinned over at her. ‘Just an idea…’

  He drove out to a secluded lake where the light pollution from the city was low enough they could see the Milky Way. Arlo put the convertible’s top down, and they gazed up at the stars.

  ‘Why’d you bring me out here – not that I’m complaining, but, you know…sexy times?’

  She grinned over at him, and he laughed, turning to face her. ‘Because, Miss Bedi, I want to see your beautiful, sumptuous curves in the moonlight. I want to fuck you under the stars. I want to make you come so hard that they’ll hear you scream in Alabama.’

  Cosima was grinning lasciviously at him. ‘You are a dark horse, Mr. Forrester…outdoor sex?’

  ‘We did plenty of it in the Maldives.’

  ‘Yes, we did.’

  He kissed her slowly, deeply then leaned his forehead against hers. ‘Do me a favor, and just sit still for a moment.’

  He got out of the car, and she watched him pop the trunk and pull out a blanket. ‘Someone planned ahead.’

  He grinned but said nothing, opening her door and scooping her into his arms. He walked a little way then set her down as he laid the blanket on the grass. He took her in his arms and kissed her again until her head swam then laid her down onto the blanket, covering her body with his. He stroked the hair away from her face. ‘You look gorgeous in the moonlight as well as the daytime,’ he said, ‘I can’t take my eyes off you, Cosima Bedi.’

  She grinned and stretched her body out, arching her back up to meet him. ‘Best you open your present then.’

  He smiled and sat up. She was wearing a dark maroon wrap dress, set off by a delicate gold chain, a tiny yellow diamond at her throat. He pulled open the belt of the dress, and then slowly peeled back the fabric. Under the dress, she was naked, and as his eyes widened in surprise, she laughed, and her curves undulated with her movement.

  ‘You are breath-taking,’ Arlo said with a catch in his voice. Cosima smiled and slowly spread her legs for him. Arlo groaned and buried his face in her sex, his mouth greedy for her and her dark copper flesh, her scarlet labia swelling, and her cunt dampening for him. His tongue found her clit and she made a small noise of pleasure as he felt it harden under his tongue. He teased and tasted until she was shuddering and crying out his name, his long, strong fingers clamping onto her buttocks as she writhed beneath him. As she came, she arched her back, almost sobbing with pleasure, and he ran his tongue up her belly, around her navel, and onto her nipples, sucking on them until she was half-crazed. Finally, he took her mouth as she reached down to free his rock-hard cock from his underwear. He hitched her legs around his waist, but she shook her head, smiling. ‘Not yet,’ she whispered, ‘Let’s prolong it – I want to taste you.’

  Arlo grinned, and as she made her way down his body, he rolled onto his back and sighed as her hot, wet mouth enveloped his cock, her hands massaging his sac, the root of him as she licked and tickled the sensitive tip with her tongue. He stroked her hair gently as she sucked him, letting himself
experiencing all the incredible sensations she was giving him. When he was almost coming, he asked her if she wanted him to pull out but she shook her head, and he came, shooting into her mouth, her fingers on his hips as she drank him down. God, this woman…he needed to bury himself in her…now. He deftly flipped her onto her back and pushed her legs apart, not caring if he was rough; the excitement in Cosima’s eyes willing him on. He grabbed the discarded belt from her dress, and bound her wrists together, pulling them above her head. Cosima groaned, ‘Tighter…tighter…’ and to his delight, she seemed even more turned on. His cock, almost ready to explode and so engorged with desire and blood, stood ramrod straight against his belly, and he teased her opening with it, making her give an impatient squeak.

  ‘You want to beg me, beautiful?’

  She nodded. ‘Please…’

  ‘Say the words…’

  ‘Fuck me, Arlo, please…’

  ‘Louder.’

  ‘Fuck me! Fuck me now, please Arlo, now…’

  And he rammed his cock deep into her cunt, pressing her legs apart, driving his whole weight into her; Cosima screamed his name, begging him to please, fucker harder, until they both came, crying out the other’s name, Arlo’s cock pumping hot thick semen deep inside her.

  Afterward, they lay on the blanket and stared up at the universe. Well, Cosima did; Arlo, proper up on his elbow, was looking at her, the lush curves of her. He couldn’t help compare her softly rounded body with Sabine’s sharp edges. Where Cosima curved, Sabine jutted; where Sabine was concave, Cosima gently curved out, lush and ripe.

  She glanced at him studying her and smiled. ‘You like what you see?’

  He bent his head to kiss her. ‘It’s the most beautiful sight in the universe.’

  ‘Flatterer,’ but she put her hand on his face. ‘I love you.’

  He turned his head to kiss her palm then her wrist. ‘You are my life, Cosima.’ He noticed her wrists were a little red from the belt he’d tied them with. He trailed his lips across the welt then smiled at her. ‘Did you like being bound, my love?’

  ‘Yes, I did…funny, I’d never even considered it before you but, yeah, I could explore that further…if you want.’ Cosima grinned shyly at him, and he shook his head, bemused.

  ‘How’d I get so lucky as to meet you?’

  She giggled as he tickled her, and then sighed happily as he caressed her body, stroking his hand down over her belly then pressing his lips to her skin. ‘You are delicious, Miss Bedi.’ He covered her body with his, his cock getting hard again. He stroked his hand down over her shaved pubic mound – really, everything about her body was soft and velvety. He slipped a finger inside her, feeling her wet and slick from his cum. She ground her sex against his hand.

  ‘I want to ride you, big boy,’ she grinned as he lay down and she straddled him, her hands on his thick cock, pulling and stroking it until it was rock-hard. Arlo spread the lips of her labia wide and she slowly lowered herself onto him, moaning softly as he filled her. They rocked gently, eyes locked. Arlo’s hands roamed gently over her breasts and belly until finally, they both came, a shuddering, mellow orgasm that left them both blissed out and relaxed.

  Arlo drove them back to his hotel, and they made love once more before falling asleep exhausted, their limbs tangled, and their lips against the others.

  Sabine Karlsson was in another hotel across the city, also fucking, this evening’s lover above her, thrusting hard – almost too hard – Sabine winced a couple of times.

  ‘Too rough, ma cherie?’

  She smiled and shook her head. ‘No, not at all.’

  After he’d come, she slipped off the bed and padded to the bathroom. She heard the Frenchman zip up his pants then the door to the room close. Good – she hated it when she had to go through the whole ‘Look, this has been fun but…’ part. It was better when they just understood it was a fuck, not true love.

  She showered quickly then slipped into her shorts and tee-shirt, switching on the t.v. and grabbing her iPad. She checked her email – she had Google alerts on both Arlo and his little Indian princess. Nothing new today. She also looked for an email from her new…acquaintance. He had told her his name was Naveen and that he was from California. She had no reason to disbelieve him – except she did. The accent for one thing. Naveen was hiding something.

  Not that she cared. Unlike the poor Frenchman who had just left, Sabine wanted more from Naveen. He had been an incredible lover – almost as good a lover as Arlo – and after two nights, he had bid her ‘farewell…but not, I hope, goodbye.’

  That simple sentence had her hanging on every buzz of her phone for his call like some damn lovesick teenager. She’d tried to Google him, but a simple search of ‘Naveen, California’ didn’t really cut it. She threw the iPad aside in frustration. She hated being a man’s beck and call. Back in Sweden, with her family, she’d been the only girl in a family of three brothers – all of whom treated her like she was their personal slave. When she left at sixteen, she vowed – never again. Her glacial beauty – and willingness to fuck anybody to get ahead – meant that she rose to the top of the modeling world easily. She hadn’t made any friends on the way up – indeed, she was one of the most reviled amongst her fellow models, but she couldn’t have cared less. When her star finally began to wane, there had been Arlo – Arlo who had been the most handsome, richest, and charming of them all. God, she had loved him desperately – so much she’d walked away from a huge job for a major design house – one that would set her up for life. The design house wanted an ‘older model’ – read over twenty-five – to be their brand spokesmodel for the next twenty years, to go from young to middle-aged with the brand to bring in all age ranges. She was to be the first – the standard-bearer for this new type of campaign, and she would have earned a quarter of a billion over twenty years. But it meant staying in New York full-time – and Arlo was a West Coast man.

  He’d told her to do the job, that it would set her up for life – but she couldn’t bear to leave him. Well – that was mostly the reason. The other reason was – she was scared, Scared that her fellow models would laugh at her, having her aging process documented and displayed for the world to see. The bitching campaign had already begun - and so she cut her losses, told the brand ‘thank you but it’s time to focus on my family.' She could have sworn, Jessica, the leading editor, looked relieved. But she’d walked away with grace and less than twenty-four hours later; the brand announced the Merry Widow, Monica Lascelles, as their figurehead. So far, Monica, ten years Sabine’s senior and an even bigger bitch than Sabine was, had earned just shy of five hundred million and she, Sabine, was scraping by on the last of Arlo’s goodwill. It galled her that it had been Monica – the two of them had never gotten along; Sabine was jealous of the older woman’s terrible beauty, dark eyes, dark hair, a body with breakneck curves and a mind devoid of morals. Sabine rather admired that about her.

  Curious, she took up her iPad again and searched ‘Monica Lascelles’, checking out what else her rival had been up to the intervening years. She’d married an English Lord – one who she had dumped years before but who still held a candle for her – and had cut back on the modeling. Sabine snorted. Monica was nearly sixty now, and Sabine knew, the jobs for women that age were few and far between but then again, with the massive fashion house contract and a rich husband, she didn’t need to work. She certainly didn’t cut down on the partying. The society pages were full of the woman and her ‘friends.' Monica was still stunning, Sabine had to admit, and then something struck her. A photograph of Monica when she was younger…there was something familiar. Sabine stared at it, trying to make the connection then it came to her.

  ‘No way,’ she murmured and went back to the search engine. Monica Lascelles children, she typed in and pressed enter. She read down the information page. Two children by her late husband…Arjun Malhotra. No names or genders of the children. That was strange. She clicked on the images tab, but no pictures with
Monica and her children existed on the web. That was weird. Sabine got up and went to get her bag, grabbed some of the photos her detective had taken of Arlo and his new paramour. She placed the picture of Cosima alongside the images of Monica, her eyes flicking between the two. ‘Fucking A,’ she hissed, shaking her head. The resemblance was unmistakable.

  Arlo’s new lover was Monica Lascelles’ daughter.

  Cosima watched Harpa packing the last of her books into a box and sighed. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come help you settle in?’

  Harpa smiled at her older sister. ‘No, Momma Bear, I’ll be fine. The less fuss there is, the easier it’ll be.’

  Cosima nodded. ‘Got it. Damn, this day came around so quickly.’ Her voice wobbled, and Harpa hugged her, chuckling.

  ‘I’m a plane ride away, Cos, less than a day. I’ll call you every other day if you like, or at least text. I promise. Now, let’s go enjoy our sister time.

  Harpa’s flight left at noon the following day so this evening was all about them spending quality time together. ‘I warn you,’ Cosima told her now, ‘I was home all day cooking, so I hope you’re hungry.’

  ‘From the amazing smell, I guessed as much,’ Harpa smiled, ‘And I’ve brought treats too.’ She went to grab a large paper sack she’d left near the door. She pulled out a large green bottle. ‘Fizz for us, chocolates, potato chips…even some Indian sweets from this deli I found.’

  She waved the box of sweets under Cosima’s nose, grinning, knowing her sister couldn’t resist the delicious cakes. Cosima swooned. ‘Gimme.’

  Harpa whipped them away from her. ‘Not until you show me the goodies.’

  Cosima laughed and hauled her into the kitchen. She laid out their feast; naan bread, curries, sag aloo, tarka dahl – and French fries. They sat and talked while they ate; reminiscing on the time they’d spent in the apartment.

  ‘It’s strange; we’ve only been here a few months, but it feels so much longer. So much has happened here.’