Seeing White

by Charlotte E Hart

  “I need a drink,” he says. “That was emotional.” So do I, frankly. Wow. Revelations.

  I laugh as he grabs my hand and tugs me towards the bar, growling at anyone who dares not to move for him or maybe for us, then smile into his back as I hear Belle’s voice.

  “For fuck’s sake, Conner, will you just give it a break for a few weeks? Good god, how do you keep the charm levels up so high for so long?” her voice snarls as his fingers leave the small of her back. “Why the owner of this fine establishment lets you in here to tarnish its good reputation is simply beyond me.” I snigger as we come up behind them.

  “The owner lets him in because he happens to be my good friend.” Alex chuckles as he moves toward Conner and gives him a man hug. Good friend? The good friend? Oh.

  “This…” Belle points a finger. “This is why you invited me here?” She stares at me. If he wasn’t a good business proposition, I’m pretty sure she’d have laid into him with more gusto than that.

  “Actually, Belle, I think Conner invited us here to meet him,” I say, laughing and trying to regain some balance to her hostile approach.

  “You knew, didn’t you, Beth?” she hisses, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “No, I didn’t. I also didn’t know he was friends with Alex or that Alex owns this place. I am in as much shock as you are. It is pretty cool, though. Frankly, I wish you two would just sort yourselves out and get on with it.” I smirk at my sister’s discomfort, hardly able to control the giggling that is rumbling around inside me as she glares in return.

  “Well, I am appalled and a little distressed actually that you thought this was a good matching, Alexander. And you, sister dearest, will take that fucking ridiculous grin off your face.” She huffs dramatically as she turns for the bar and sips at some fruit-laden drink.

  “I really do believe you have her on the edge, Conner. It should only take a few more months and she’ll be convinced of your natural wit and superhuman good looks,” I tease him, smiling with mirth and trying to ease the tension she’s created for no reason whatsoever.

  Well, apart from the fact that she just won’t admit she likes him.

  “I think we all need a drink,” he says a little grumpily as he looks at her back and shakes his head. It’s cute. He really is quite besotted.

  “That smile not working for you anymore?” Alex chuckles and slaps him on the back as he nods at the barman and does a two finger wiggle, which means something because the barman races towards the back and arrives back with an ice bucket and champagne. The label says Krug, obviously.

  “Shut it, before I shut it for you,” is Conner’s response as he continues to watch Belle like a hawk. She’s now decided to shake her arse in his face, as if she’s forgotten all about him, so I narrow my eyes at her because she so likes him and is clearly going for some sort of game. As if on cue, Conner decides to play and leans over her back to whisper something in her ear. I have no idea what it is, but the dirty little smile that suddenly spreads across her face can only mean she’s pleased, to some degree anyway. He chuckles and moves away again, leaving her giggling as he approaches me and smiles. “So, had any slippery fingers today, Beth?” I gape. What the hell does that mean? Alex very nearly spits out his drink behind me as he coughs around the glass.

  “Conner, stop. Now.” I swing my eyes to him and see the flash of anger that he tries to mask, quite unsuccessfully. Whatever the hell Conner is talking about, it’s clearly some sort of joke, which Alex obviously doesn’t find funny.

  “Oh, chill the fuck out, man,” he replies as he winks at me and grabs Belle’s hand, who gawks in response but doesn’t actually pull it away as he leads her across the room.

  “Umm, what was that?” I ask, turning to look into his eyes. A wry smile greets me as he chuckles.

  “He was attempting to wind me up,” he replies, wrapping a hand around my waist and pulling me tight into his side. “Oddly enough, it seemed to work.”

  Oh, right. I still have no bloody clue.

  ~

  The night progresses with an easy atmosphere and I watch the three of them all night, bantering and laughing with each other. There is probably nobody else in this room with as much money or clout as Alex, except maybe Conner. Actually, I have no idea, but I realise that I don’t notice it on them at all. They ooze a sense of self-assurance that means they don’t need to exploit their status or wealth in the slightest. As I glance at the other ‘sharks’ as he calls them, I can see their neediness as they try to impress everyone else with tales of the latest this or the newest that. I feel myself growing more and more confident and holding my head up naturally. It probably helps that my head is really quite fuzzy and the champagne is slipping down my throat like water.

  Belle and Conner are happily giggling like children. I don’t know when that happened or what he did to change her mind, but I smile proudly at the pair of them. She is the probably the most in need of love person that I know, and every moment of happiness she receives is an absolute pleasure for me to see. Conner is so right for her and I can hardly contain my smile as I see her starting to realise it as we all chat. Although, I’m pretty sure she always knew it to some degree and was just avoiding it. Quiet, sly glances are thrown my way, the corners of her mouth lifting with every move he makes to convince her of his worthiness. I watch in awe as her flirtation levels increase steadily with an unusually reserved attitude. She’s shy, and really, she doesn’t need to be at all.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before,” Alex whispers beside me, stroking my thigh and getting very close to the top of my legs.

  “I know, but he is a playboy. You can see her point.” I inwardly tense at my own comment. The man I’m with is as much a playboy as the one opposite me, possibly more so. I’m screwed.

  “Yes, but he’s never normally this attentive. He certainly doesn’t normally laugh this much because of a woman and he’s actually talking to her. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that before.” He smirks and kisses my cheek. “Are you having a good time?”

  “Wonderful. It’s good to finally see them getting on. It’s been on the cards for months and I want to see her happy. She deserves some happiness.” I frown at him, suddenly feeling very protective. “Can he make her happy? Is he really the bastard they say he is?” Are you?

  “I don’t know, if I’m honest. He’s a good man and I’ve known him a long time, but whether he’ll ever be able to settle down, I really don’t know.” He looks pensively at Conner and Belle for a minute or two. “I will say this, though. Once Conner’s committed, he remains that way. Cheating is not his thing.” He gives me a crooked smile.

  “I’m not sure that inspires me with much confidence.” I glance at Belle as she becomes more intimate and friendly, her hand on his thigh and his around her shoulder.

  “Do you want to dance? I think these two could do with some space for a while,” he asks me. My eyes shoot to his, breaking me from my internal battle.

  “Really? Dance? You can dance? Most men don’t dance,” I ask, disbelief pouring from me. I know he can dance in the twirling style, but at a club? Really? Mind you, he certainly knows how to move those hips and it is his building.

  “Well, this one does. It’s why I own a club.” He grabs me around the waist and launches me up into the air playfully, catching me with ease, then proceeds to shower me with kisses and drags me toward a very busy dance floor.

  “Jesus, are you going to make some moves, man?” Conner shouts after us.

  “Yes, I think I am. It’s been too long.” Alex quickens his pace while my own hips start their swinging around. I seriously can’t help it. The music is so good and the champagne only heightens it.

  I turn to look at Conner and smile. He lifts Belle’s hand to his mouth and sweeps toward her. Thankfully she doesn’t seem to protest as she wraps her hands around his neck.

  Sweet, or maybe not.

  Sweet has nothing to do with what happens in the next twenty minut
es or so. Alex is probably the best male dancer I have ever seen, and surprisingly, he looks overjoyed with being in the middle of the thumping beats. His rhythm is passionate and right on the button and he seems to mould himself around the music as if this is what he was designed for. I feel the surge of heat through my stomach and groin, as he spends time pushing every inch of himself onto me and losing himself into the bass. His eyes are heavy and lust filled as he whispers all sorts of really rather intriguing things into my ear, most of which have me blushing beetroot red or simply not having a clue what he’s suggesting. I’ve never heard a man use language that has made me feel so incredibly turned on, and I can feel myself becoming nervous for what he has planned. I am absolutely in over my head and I am so needy for him that I can hardly breathe, yet again.

  His hand wraps around my throat from behind in a grasp that tells me exactly where this is leading. His fingers flex firmly, causing my core to tighten, and suddenly I can’t wait. I’m so horny that just the touch of his hand has me throbbing and yearning for more. I tilt my head back into his shoulder and feel him grinding against me in time to the music as my inner slut gives him every inch of her opening legs.

  “Alex, please.” What is it with this begging?

  He gives me a wolfish grin and moves me toward the side of the floor. His eyes are pinned on something in front of him, as if he can see his destination and is pushing us there as fast as he can.

  “You’re impatient this evening, Elizabeth. I know exactly what you need. Are you ready for this?”

  His hands suddenly grasp the backs of my thighs and lift me up onto him. I grab the back of his neck and hold on tight as he strides towards his target.

  “Reach into my right pocket and get the card,” he growls at me. I oblige and look at him. Actually, I might be panting, not just looking.

  “Now what?” I ask breathlessly.

  “Swipe it over that pad.” He indicates his head toward a gadget on the wall by the side of a black door.

  I do and it slides open, revealing a private area. It’s like a cocoon of opulence and as the door slides closed, all the outside noise dies down and we’re left with just our breathing and the dull thud of the outside bass thumping through the walls. He places me very gently to the floor and walks to the table. Lifting a small, white, iPod type gadget, he presses something and a secret cupboard opens in the wall. He grabs what looks like a burgundy silk scarf and moves toward me like a predator, slow, deliberate steps until he’s in front of me. His face has become dangerously neutral and I wonder where the man from a moment ago has gone. All that sparkle has been replaced by nothingness, and the deepening blue eyes clearly mean only one thing.

  “Elizabeth, I’m going to put this over your eyes and you’re going to do exactly as I say. Don’t question me and don’t speak unless I ask it of you. Trust me to give you precisely what you are begging me for. Do you understand?” he states with a quiet composure that practically has me dribbling.

  “Yes.” It’s all I’ve got, and I can’t speak anyway because his mouth has been moving around words in that voice of his.

  “Good girl.”

  He moves me into the middle of the room and turns me toward a glass wall. I know the dance floor is out there, but the wall is opaque to give privacy. He lifts the scarf and ties it over my eyes, and as the world goes black, I waver a little at the thought of being completely at his mercy. His hand steadies me as I nervously wait to see what happens next.

  “Truly beautiful,” he breathes over my shoulder as he skims his hands over them and down my arms. Just as I begin to get used to the feeling, he removes his hands and I hear his footsteps back away.

  Silence, apart from the thud of bass which somehow seems to be resonating very loudly between my thighs and the rapid beating of my own heart which echoes in my head as I try to listen for any other sound.

  “Take your heels off and then remove your top.” Oh, shit. Okay, I can do this. Very slowly, I remove my shoes and then tease my top from my jeans, pulling it over my head, careful not to remove the blindfold. I hear the sharp intake of breath from behind me and smile to myself at my effect on him.

  “Now peel those incredibly tight jeans down your legs, take them off and bend over,” he growls at me. “And don’t smile at yourself again, because you have no idea what’s coming for you.”

  Okay, that makes me think a bit. God knows what’s about to happen. Perhaps my inner slut should just take a back seat for a minute or two until she works out what’s going on.

  I reach down to start the tortuous task of trying to remove jeans sexily and push them down my thighs, which is clearly not easy. I complete the task quite gracefully, for me, and try to hide my smile as I kick them to the side. The pit of nerves in my stomach is rippling out to every part of me and I can feel myself dripping down my own legs with anticipation, so I bend over and touch my hands to the floor as commanded. Weirdly, it feels a little empowering, because regardless of how blind I currently am, I can feel his eyes roaming over my backside and drinking me in.

  “Now move yourself forward two paces and put your hands on the glass.” His voice is husky with need and suddenly more aggressive if that’s possible. Playful Alex has gone.

  I walk gingerly forward until I’m touching the glass. The thudding of the beat streams through my fingertips, the glass vibrating from the unwavering impact of the bass notes and resonating straight through me. I’m sweating and panting now as anticipation and expectancy fills my brain and floods my senses. The music slowly increases in volume in the room again, which only intensifies the vibration in my fingers.

  I hear him before I feel him. I can imagine his face and that body glistening with the adrenalin that will be coursing through his muscles, the twist of his torso as his fingers brush down my spine and he moves them to my waist. He moves one large hand to my stomach and pulls me back against him. Christ, he’s naked. When did that happen? His erection firmly presses itself into my arse as I squirm a little at his force.

  “Do you feel how you make me want to fuck you? How hard I am for you?” He groans as I press back against him and he moves away. “Don’t move Elizabeth. Stay perfectly still.” I doubt that’s possible. Next I feel him behind my ankles, gently tugging them apart wider.

  “I want you to lower yourself down to your knees, keep your hands on the glass and your legs apart,” he growls.

  I do as he says hesitantly, not knowing what’s coming.

  The first swipe of his tongue ignites the flames within me. He grabs onto my thighs and buries his head between my legs, forcefully sucking on my clit through my panties and beginning the inevitable mind-blowing orgasm. My stomach clenches as he pushes my panties aside, delves his tongue into me and continues the torture in a hard rhythm.

  “Oh, God, yes.” I can’t help myself. The feeling is divine, as if transported to a different place immediately.

  Over and over again his relentless mouth and teeth bite and suck their way to my core and I feel myself building and building, higher, flying so high I can’t bring in a breath. Oh god, I’m quivering and trembling and all my muscles tense as I gasp for air. The music vibrates louder somehow, pushing me faster and… Oh God, I’m there. His tongue dives in for the last time and I implode, with bright lights streaming through the blackness as his teeth connect again. The thud of the glass matches the throbbing inside me as I writhe on his face for that perfect spot, which he finds and clamps me to him.

  “Yes. Oh fuck, yes. Alex...” I scream out his name and ride through the ecstasy that’s skimming across every inch of me as I collapse onto him and moan out my gratitude.

  “Hands on the glass, Elizabeth. You’re not finished yet.” His grunt is angry and full of heated desire as he pushes me back up forcefully.

  He leans me back up against the glass and slides his hands back down to my hips. Grasping hold of my panties, he stretches the elastic and snaps them back to my skin. The pain is strangely hypnotic and I find myself
pushing back against him, desperate for his touch again. He rips the side of them and I feel them leave my skin. The cold air hits my wet nub and sends shivers racing through me as his hot breath on my back and neck tease my skin mercilessly. Unfastening the clasp on my bra, he lets my breasts fall free and pinches at my nipples roughly as he pushes me forward until they touch the cold glass. They almost burn with sensation and I moan gratefully at the feeling. Then I feel his hand stroking me between my legs and forcing them open again.

  “Are you ready for me now? Do you want me inside you? Answer me.” He groans at my ear as he slides what feels like three fingers in, stretching me wide.

  “Oh god, yes. Please, Alex.” The sharp smack that suddenly hits my backside sends me reeling forward but he catches me before I fall onto the glass and brushes his palm over the sting. Warmth floods the area as I try to process the feeling.

  “You’re so wet, fucking delicious. Perhaps I should just make you come with my hand. The feel of you on my hand is exquisite, Elizabeth.”

  “Please, Alex, I need you inside me. Oh Christ, I can’t breathe. Please.” I’m begging so hard, desperate for him.