Exquisite Taste

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Exquisite Taste Page 16

by J. D. Hollyfield


  “Patricia?” I ask, surprised to see her here. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen you in this place,” I say, curious. Almost ten years, as a matter of fact. I bring my eyes to Fredrick, whose stare is blank. “What brings you here today?” I step up to her, and we hug. I offer her a kiss on her cheek just as I’ve always done in the past.

  “Is there a place where we can chat? In private?” she asks. I nod, escorting her to my office. The moment I shut the door, she begins. “What are you up to, Damien?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re asking.” I sit down at my desk. Instead of taking the seat across from me, she sits on top of my desk, close enough that her thigh brushes against my arm.

  “Jensen Stone. What are you doing? She’s a child. And Fredrick says a major distraction to the club.”

  My fingers tighten around my armchair. “That is none of your business. Neither is the club anymore. If that’s why you’ve come here, you can get the fuck out.” She doesn’t flinch or seem affected by my verbal threat. She spreads her legs so her thigh brushes harder against me. “Get off my desk.”

  “I’ve missed that mouth of yours. The anger. It reminds me of us back in the days when I—”

  I cut her off by standing and removing her from my desk myself. “That was years ago, Patricia. You don’t work here anymore. You’re not a member. Nothing that happens here involves you. It hasn’t for a long time.”

  This time, she doesn’t hide her frustration. “Your father would be disgusted with you. He would never have allowed you to run around with a mindless child—”

  “That’s your second warning. Mention her one more time, and I will personally throw you out. My father is fucking dead. He’s been dead for a very long fucking time. I don’t care what he meant to you, but your relationship with him and this club died the day he did.”

  My words are meant to hurt, and they do. She looks as if I physically hit her. “You forget about my private stocks in this club. You cannot sell without my sign off. Your father made sure of that.”

  “Not for long. I’ll make sure you’re compensated for your portion. But this club is done.” I walk to my office door and toss it open. “Let it go, Patricia. It’s over.”

  She doesn’t say another word. She storms past me, and before she has a chance to turn around, I slam the door in her face.

  My mood doesn’t shift until the moment I see her. The way she’s dressed in a casual pair of jeans and a black tank top. Why had I ever thought to dress her up when she looks fucking breathtaking being herself? I’m mad I even suggested this now, since all I want to do is take her back to my loft and fuck her into tomorrow. I may just have her sucking my dick on top of the Ferris wheel after all.

  “You look like you’re up to something,” she says as she approaches.

  “And what do you think that is, Ms. Stone?” I grab her hand and draw her into me, needing to touch her. Her smile sends a jolt straight to my dick. Everything about her makes me hard and my blood pumping through my veins. I kiss the top of her head, then pull away just enough for her to look up at me.

  “Well, I’m not sure if it’s illegal yet. The park seems to still be open, so we’re not trespassing tonight.”

  I can’t stop myself from placing my lips against hers, and I love how compliant she is when I do. Her lips mold against mine like perfection, then part, allowing my tongue entrance. I knew I should have held off kissing her. Having the taste of her sweet mouth against mine is fucking with my head. I pull away.

  “Forget these plans. We’re going back to my loft.” I grab for her hand and tug her toward the exit, but she stops me.

  “I don’t think so, buddy. You’re showing me what you brought me here to see. No booty time until then.” I turn, annoyed she just told me no. Even more so that she called me her buddy. I storm back to her, wrap my hand around her neck, and slam my mouth down on hers. This time, my kiss isn’t sweet or patient. It’s brutal and taking. Once she’s in need of air, I pull away and am rewarded with her glazed over eyes.

  “Don’t ever call me your buddy. The way I’m going to suck and fuck and bite your cunt until you scream my name says I am definitely not your buddy.” I’m not particularly mad she told me no. I’m starting to enjoy the way she challenges me. But referring to me as a pal or a friend, and not the man who’s been deep inside her, breaking her down until she realizes how fucking special she really is, is unacceptable.

  “Wow, okay then.” She sighs as she begins to blink away the lust I’ve fed her. “What do I call you then? Master, maybe?” I go to grab for her, but she jumps back.

  “Get over here,” I demand.

  Her laughter fills the air. “Nah, not until we clear the air. Or do you like sir? Daddy?” She jumps when I come at her and she takes off running down the pier. The wind is in full effect, catching the sound of her beautiful laugh and blowing it past me. I try to catch up to her, but she’s quick and able to shift in and out of the busy crowd. I finally make it to the end of the pier when I catch her. My arms wrap around her waist, and she squeals in pure delight. I whip her around ready to scold her for running from me, but that’s not what I do. I kiss her again and again. And I swear, in that moment, I never want to stop.

  A group of punk kids hollering causes us to break apart.

  “All right, you win. Should I just stick to Son of Satan?”

  I can’t fight the smile growing to match hers. I pull her into me, hugging her body to mine. “I’ll settle with that. As long as I’m allowed to call you mine.”

  Two weeks later…

  “STOP, PLEASE. I CAN’T TAKE anymore.” I wiggle under Damien’s warm body, begging for a release.

  “Tell me what’s on the camera.”

  I shake my head, and he goes at it again. His mouth dives to my center and he licks at me, followed by tender bites, until I’m on the brink. Just as I’m about to tumble over the edge, he stops.

  “Tell me.”

  “No,” I pant.

  “You know you won’t win this. Tell me what’s on the camera, Jensen, and I’ll give you what you want. Or you go to class very uncomfortable.”

  He’s not playing fair. He knows I can’t be late for class one more time. The past two weeks, he’s refused to let me out of his sight, so I’ve been waking up in his bed and running into class just as it begins. “You can’t tie me up again. I can’t be late. Plus, I know it wouldn’t be punishing me, it would be punishing you. Seeing me tied up in ropes, naked, probably wet from all the visuals I know you want to do to me. That, Satan’s spawn, would only make you late for your meeting. I feel like I win, so give me my orgasm and I’ll just be on my way.”

  His eyes light up. He hates it but loves it when I play his games. Even more so when I win. I know from the way his pupils dilate, he’s wondering just how late he would be if he had a replay of the other night. “You’re an evil little thing.”

  “I am. Now, send me to class with a smile.”

  “Tell me what’s on the camera. What are you hiding?” If I tell him, he’ll know I was taking pictures of him while he was sleeping like a creepster and I may never show my face again. “Time’s tickin’, pet. Tell me and get your reward, or don’t, be late and grumpy the rest of the day.”

  Grumpy is the last thing I can be today. I have my first huge exam in Psych today, which I cannot fail. And considering Ms. Phillips hates me, I also cannot be late. “Fine, God! You win.”

  “I always do. Now, spit it out.”

  “Ugh,” I grunt, staring up at the ceiling and taking a big breath of air. “I was taking pictures of you while you were sleeping.”

  Damien pauses. “You were what?”

  “I was photographing you. You looked so peaceful, I wanted to capture the moment. I knew we would never have those moments where we selfied or took pictures together. I know we’re not a couple, and this isn’t a normal relationship, but I just…I wanted something to have…to remind myself you existed. The contract, I know it’
s—”

  He’s above me, cutting off the last of my words. His kiss is rough as his lips dominate mine. My legs instantly wrap around him and I hug him to me. As much as the words weren’t spoken, the truth of it remains. Our month is up. The past two weeks have been amazing. Nothing I would have ever expected from a ruthless, sex club owner. But time’s up.

  Each day closer to the end, my heart began to hurt more and more. Would he send me on my way? Would he extend it? Would he tell me I’m more than just a contract? But each day that passed nothing was said. It was as if the contract was a myth. It didn’t exist between us. It wasn’t truly what defined who we were to one another.

  Damien rips his mouth away from mine and drops his lips to my neck. He tries to move down my body, but my legs are still in a death hold around him. “Baby, let me go.”

  “I can’t. I’ve lost control of my legs. They’ve gone rogue.” The vibration of his laughter against my skin doesn’t help matters. It only makes me squeeze harder.

  “Jesus, you’re gonna hurt yourself. Let me go.”

  “No.”

  He lifts his head, and I stare into his beautiful eyes. They’re shining with the same expression he’s had on his face for the past two weeks. I’m not sure what it really is. I’ve been telling myself it’s more than just lust. Feeding my mind lies to make this feel more real than it probably is. But in those eyes, I see a man who’s looking at me with intent. With promise of something more than a thirty-day expiration date.

  “Jensen, if you don’t release me, I won’t be able to eat that sweet pussy of yours. And trust me, I’m fucking hungry.”

  Oh God. I’m instantly beet red. No matter how many times I hear his vulgar words, they still cause me to hide inside myself.

  “Don’t go all shy on me now, sweetheart. We both know once I put my lips on you, you’re going to start your naughty little moaning and hair pulling. That’s not the act of a little shy girl, is it?”

  Ugh. “Dammit, fine.” He sure does know how to one-up me. The mention of the contract forgotten, I let my legs loose just as he smiles wide, showing me his pearly whites. I roll my eyes at him for theatrics, and his head disappears in between my legs until I’m pulling at his hair and orgasming as I scream his name.

  Taking Haller Hall two steps at a time, I run up and into the building. I’ve already convinced myself the doors will be locked and I’m going to fail my exam. Ms. Phillips has it out for me and there’s no way she’s not standing by the door waiting to slam it shut and lock it the second the hour hits. My mind fights it, but I can’t help but go there. My scholarship. If I fail this class, I can kiss that goodbye.

  I run down the hall and see the door in sight. It’s still open. The hour hits just as I make it outside the threshold. I’m just about to throw myself through the door when I slam on the breaks to avoid plowing over my professor.

  “In a hurry, Ms. Stone?”

  “Whoa! Hi. Um, yes. Up late studying and didn’t want to be late. Almost beat the clock.” I smile and attempt to slip past her, but she blocks me. Confused, I turn my eyes on her. The look she returns is odd. “Um, can I get through?”

  “Do you think you’re the first one, Ms. Stone?” she asks crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Um, no. Looks like I’m the last, but if you let me through, I can get seated and get this show on the road. I’ve been studying all—”

  “You’re just another game to him.”

  I’m not sure what she’s referring to. The way she’s looking at me is unprofessional. Because it feels hateful. “Ms. Phillips, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  “The gifts, the flattery—let me guess, he told you he was going to walk away from his club.”

  My smile falls from my face.

  “Ahhh, there it is. Now we’re on the same page.”

  “I don’t know what you’re—”

  “I suggest walking away from him before you get your little heart broken. You’re young. You have your entire career ahead of you. And take my advice. I’d hate for your grade in my class to suffer. Consider this a warning.”

  I’m stone-still. My mind is racing a million miles a second. Let me guess, he told you he was going to walk away from his club. Walk away. Grade in my class to suffer…

  My lips begin to finally work. “Did you just threaten me, Ms. Phillips?” I ask, feeling the rumble of anger inside my chest.

  “Take it as you will, Ms. Stone. Consider it teacher to student advice.”

  I fight to hold back my true emotions. The ones inside my head screaming you’ve been played. If she’s telling me the truth, what a fool I’ve been. Feeding into all the bullshit he’s fed me. The talks about him finding a better life, leaving the club, and all the gratitude for giving him the reason to do so. The way he’s made me feel as if I’m something to him. Important. Beautiful.

  And it’s all been a lie.

  It explains why he hasn’t mentioned the end of our contract. He doesn’t plan on keeping me around.

  I bite down the anger and steady my back. “Get out of my way.”

  Her smile is anything but kind. Evil, if I had to pin a word to it. I’m about to push her aside when another kid comes sliding down the hallway past us. “Sorry, Ms. Phillips,” he calls as he runs into class, and I follow behind him.

  The test is long. I know everything on it. Or I should know. But my mind is a million miles away. My hands battle not to find my bat phone and text him and demand the truth. But what if I get the answers I don’t want to hear? What if this has been a game for him all along? My thoughts take me back to last week.

  “And just like that?” I ask Damien, scooping up a handful of bath bubbles. I bring them to my lips and blow, laughing as they explode and land in tiny particles all over his face.

  “Just like that.” He grabs for me across the gigantic master tub, pulling me into his lap. “When someone wants a company as successful as Exquisite, they’ll do what it takes to finalize the sale as quick as possible.” He brings his wet lips to mine and kisses me. There’s no denying he’s also trying to smear the bubbles on my face.

  “So, what will they do with it? Keep it the sex club? Tear it down? Turn it into a social club?” I laugh into his mouth when a hand hidden under the water squeezes my butt cheek.

  “Honestly, I don’t give a fuck. They can burn the whole fuckin’ place down for all I care.”

  “But what about your father? His legacy?” I ask as his mouth pulls away from mine and works his magic down my neck.

  “It’s exactly how you said it. His legacy. Not mine. It’s never been. But now, thanks to you, I’m gonna be free of it.” He softly nibbles at my neck.

  “I’m not really sure how I have anything to do with it,” I say, trying not to squirm in his hold.

  Damien pulls away to find my eyes. “Well, for starters, you’ve proven I actually don’t have power over everyone in my reach. Your feisty attitude and free spirit have shown me I’m no match for you in the sense that you may be the one putting me in my place.”

  I throw my head back and laugh. “Oh, come on.”

  “It’s true. This business has made me very cold. Stern. There’s no room for leniency, patience, or forgiveness. But ever since you stormed into my life, I’ve learned to accept a hell of a lot of it.”

  I bring my eyes back to his. “Damien, those are just simple lessons of life. It’s not me who’s teaching you those. Everyone has them. Maybe you just needed to remember how to use them.”

  He kisses me quickly. “I am. And with you, I feel more empowered than I have in a long time. And for that reason alone, I may never let you out of my sight. Being a better man is tough. I’m gonna need you around to counsel me through it.”

  I laugh out loud again. He pulls me tightly to him, water splashing around us. Spreading my legs and aligning him right where I want him to be, he slides inside me. “You’ve changed something in me. And now I have to show you just how appreciative I am of
that.”

  He lifts my hips up and back down on his hard length. Unlike our normal encounters, this one is slow. Measured. Meaningful. He’s not trying to dominate me or show me he has all control over me. If I let my heart define it, I think he was showing me just how much power I have over him and possibly his own heart.

  “Pencils up.”

  The sound of the professor’s voice brings me back to the current. I look around at everyone packing up their things and handing in their tests. I look down and see I’ve only answered a quarter of the questions.

  “Fuck,” I mumble. Without the full points of this test, there’s no way I’ll get the grade required to keep up my GPA. I fight the tears threatening to spill and get up, grabbing my bag. I catch Ms. Phillips’ eyes, and her face turns smug. My hands begin to crumple the test between my grip and I toss it in the trash as I walk past her, knowing I just threw away my scholarship.

  I race out of the building. I can’t breathe. My chest hurts. Everything I worked for, gone. Over a ruse. I let him trick me. My eyes sting. My vision begins to blur. How could he? I opened up to him. Gave him something I’ve never given anyone else. I gave him me—

  “Jensen?”

  I stop at the familiar voice and turn to see Christine with Brittany and Steph, standing just to the right of the stairs. For a second, I’m relieved knowing my best friend is here to console me while I break down over everything I just lost. But then I see it. The mistake she made by noticing me at all. Her eyes quickly change, and she sticks her nose up to me.

  “Wow, you’re still here? Thought you might’ve been trying to end your life knowing you just bombed your exam. Sitting there staring off into space like a freak. Aren’t you on a scholarship too? Ouch.”

 

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