Exquisite Taste

by J. D. Hollyfield

  “I’m nothing but a fake. A loser,” I cry, feeling so disappointed in myself. I cry at how upset my parents are going to be once they find out about my grade. Ms. Phillips has probably already contacted the student records department letting them know I suck and to cut off all funding.

  What hurts the most is my heart. That stupid thing in my chest that got a taste of something wonderful. Maybe the truth was there the whole time, I just refused to believe it. I wanted what we had to be real so bad, maybe I can only blame myself for living in such a fantasy. I mean, who starts a relationship by signing a contract?

  A knock sounds at my door.

  “Not interested!” I yell.

  “Not selling. Some guy dropped off a note for you.”

  I pop up, accidentally banging my head on the top bunk. “Ouch!” I climb out and throw open my door. Katie from down the hall holds out a folded piece of paper.

  “Thanks,” I tell her, then shut the door.

  I stand there staring at the small folded piece of paper.

  I shouldn’t open this.

  Yes, you should.

  I won’t obey anything coming from him.

  Maybe one last time?

  I hate that my mind is even at battle with this. He’s playing me, and I’m still exploding with anticipation on what his letter will say. What he’ll request of me next.

  With a deep breath, I unfold the piece of paper, going against my better judgment. I read the message requesting my presence, and my heart gets those flutters that always happens when he beckons me. Even after what I learned today, I still want to please him. Be with him. A single tear falls down my cheek in shame. No matter the cost, I’ll still meet him anywhere.

  It’s almost five after ten when I walk in. I decided if I’m doing this, I’m doing it at my own pace. And hopefully being five minutes late shows him he’s not the boss of me. My stomach is in knots, and I’m not sure how to proceed once I see him. Slap him for deceiving me and making me fall for him? The thought to pretend I don’t know his game crossed my mind more times than I’d like to admit.

  My palms are sweaty. I’m nervous. Will he be able to tell the difference in me? See the pain in my eyes? Since the first day, he’s always been good at reading me. I take in a breath and follow the instructions on the note, praying Ms. Phillips was lying to me and he’s going to prove to me what we have is real. Finding the door, I twist the nob and enter Private Room H at Exquisite.

  The second the view before me registers, my hands cover my mouth and a wave of dizziness strikes, threatening to take me to the floor.

  “Get out. This room is…” A look of shock covers Damien’s face. “Jensen?”

  My stomach churns as bile rises into my throat. I’m going to throw up. “Oh God.” I cover my mouth harder as if that’s going to stop the vomit from expelling. Damien is standing by the door, and in the corner, there’s a woman on the bed.

  Damien whips his head from me to the stranger and back. “What the fuck?” I can’t pull my eyes away from the woman in see-through pink lingerie. Her identity is hidden behind a burlesque mask and a wig.

  But there’s no need for the disguise.

  I know exactly who’s behind it.

  Sylvia.

  “This some kind of joke?” Damien barks, grabbing my attention as I pull my defeated eyes away from a smiling Sylvia.

  “I guess on me. Not into threesomes, so I’ll pass. But go fuck yourself.” I turn to escape out of the room, but his arm reaches out and wraps around my bicep. “Let me go, you asshole!” I yell, jerking against his grip.

  “What the fuck is going on?” He storms over to Sylvia and rips the mask off her head, exposing her identity. She doesn’t look scared or nervous that she’s been caught. Her evil smile aimed right at me tells me one thing.

  She won.

  “Surprise,” is all she says. It’s all she needs to say.

  Damien turns back to me, rage flashing in his eyes. “Why would you send her here?”

  “Me?” I gasp in shock. How could he think this was my doing? My shock morphs into disappointment, then quickly anger. My posture stiffens, and my defensive walls go up. “Yeah. Not my doing. After everything, I’m so glad you know me so well.” But he doesn’t seem to know me at all.

  “Oh, come on,” he hisses. “You think I would touch her? I just walked in myself. The question is where were you and why did you send me here?” He looks angry, scary almost, but the giggling behind us just ignites my own hurt and anger.

  “You make me sick,” I cry. I run out of the room and race down the long, low-lit hallway. Damien is close behind, shouting my name, demanding I stop. I get to the elevator and slam the up button to take me to the main floor when he catches me.

  “What the fuck was that back there?” he growls.

  I ignore him, counting to a billion in my head so I don’t lose my shit.

  “Look at me, dammit. What the fuck was—”

  I whip around, jabbing my finger into his heaving chest. “It was you being played! That’s what it was.” I want to turn away from him, but he doesn’t allow it. He clutches my shoulders, forcing me to keep eye contact with him.

  “I got your note. You sent me to that room.”

  “Did I?”

  He doesn’t immediately reply so I continue. “So, since we’re just assuming now, I should go ahead and assume the message I got to show up here was from you, wanting me to catch you and her together?” My entire body is trembling. Just saying the words has me on the verge of sickness again.

  Damien stands there just as distraught as he studies my face. It takes a few seconds until it finally registers. We were set up. “Jensen.”

  “Oh, don’t. Save your breath trying to bullshit me. I know you don’t care about me.”

  “Of course I fucking care! I would never have touched—”

  “But you did, though, right? How long have you two been in there? Or did I show up just in time for the big show? She’s probably not even the only one, is she? God, I’m so dumb!” I shake my head, laughing a cynical laugh. “Well played, pal. Well played. I’m done with your fucking game—”

  “Jensen, for Christ’s sake, I told you I walked in just before you did. And stop saying you’re some game to me. You’re more than—”

  “Stop! Stop lying to me. Ms. Phillips already blew your cover. The lies about selling the club. God! I’ve been so stupid with you.”

  He moves into me, clenching his fingers around my biceps. The touch of his warm hands burns into my skin. I fight him, needing space. Having him this close confuses me. Clouds my judgment. His eyes are on fire, and I want to wrap my arms around him and beg him to tell me what I saw wasn’t real. His grip only tightens, and I groan as he corners me back against the wall.

  “I don’t know what you’re going on about. I never lied to you about the sale of the club. What did Patricia say to you?”

  “So, you and your ex whore are on a first name basis? How cute. Did she have a contract too?”

  He pulls me off the wall, hugging me too tightly to his chest. “Stop.”

  “No. Fuck you.” I raise my hands to his chest and shove him with all my might, but his grip only squeezes harder.

  “Watch your tone with me, Jensen. I am not a man you want to provoke.”

  “Oh, so scary. The big bad son of Satan and his big bad sex club. I’m not scared of you. Or your threats.”

  It’s like my words flip a switch. I’m off his chest and being pushed forward until my back is against the closed elevator door. He towers over me, his face mere centimeters from mine. “You fucking should be scared of me,” he growls in a low voice, sending a wave of shivers down my spine. No longer do I see a man, fighting for me to believe him. He’s been pushed too far. I quickly regret being so mean. I want to understand. Want him to fight for my forgiveness. But his eyes cast a shade of darkness, showing me, I’ve lost. The only thing I can do now is free myself from his hateful scrutiny. I shove him again
and again and again, but he’s like a steel wall.

  His voice becomes eerily calm. “Remember, pet. You’re the one who walked into my club. I make you sick, do I? How sick? Do I repulse you? Just how much? Not enough to sign a deal with the devil. Tell me, Jensen, who’s the sick one here? I know exactly who I am. But do you? What does selling yourself to me for practically nothing make you?”

  His words are painful slivers cutting deep into my skin. How dare he cheapen what we have like that. Is that how he really sees me?

  “Go to hell. I hate you!” I yell, causing my throat to burn. I shove him hard, the wave of tears cascading down my face. “I should’ve never gotten involved with you!”

  Fury explodes behind his searing stare. I’m forced to jump back as he’s in my face. “No, you shouldn’t have!” he roars. His hands go for my wrists, lifting them above my head. “You should’ve listened the first time I threw you out on your ass and told you to stay the fuck away. But no. You didn’t. You had to come back like a lost cat, needing attention. Needing someone to take your childish bullshit!”

  My tears fall harder. How could I see a person so wonderful in such a vindictive man? “I hate you.”

  “Good! You should.” He releases me and steps away, his chest heaving and eyes wild with anger. “Leave. Don’t come back. This arrangement is finished.”

  I flinch as if he hit me. That’s how powerful his words affect me. I want to attack him. Use force and hurt him the way he hurt me.

  I can’t breathe.

  “Damien, are you coming back?” We both turn to see Sylvia standing some feet away, her robe open and body on display through the see-through lace.

  “You! Get the fuck out of my club!” Damien barks from behind me. I run down the hall and take the stairs two at a time to the first level. I make it to the side exit and bust through the door landing in the alley. A cab light is lit at the end of the street, and I book it, throwing open the passenger door.

  “Jensen, fucking wait.” I turn to see Damien running after me. I can’t. I won’t have him beat me down with his insults. I climb into the cab.

  “Hurry, please,” I beg the driver. Damien is screaming my name, but I don’t look his way as the cab pulls away. I use the last of my energy to give the man my address, then throw myself against the backseat, and sob.

  Why did I have to fall for a man so out of my league? A man who was never going to want me fully? I hate myself for being so naïve.

  And fuck Sylvia. I tighten my fists and slam them onto the seat cushion, more tears pouring down my face. Why couldn’t she just leave me alone? I was a nobody. She was the one who had it all, why did she have to take the one thing…

  Red and blue lights flash behind me, and I spin as the cab pulls over to the side. “Why are we stopping? Are we getting pulled over?”

  The driver rolls down his window. “Yes, officer, is there a problem? I wasn’t aware I was speeding.”

  The officer glances at the driver, looking uninterested, then casts his gaze to the backseat. Right at me. “Miss, can I have you please step out of the vehicle?”

  “Who, me?”

  “Now, please.”

  Oh, crap. What if he saw me run out of the club and knows I’m underage? “Officer, I’m not sure I did—”

  “Now, miss.”

  He opens my door and I scoot out before he can drag me out. He shuts my door and addresses the driver. “You can go. Have a nice night.”

  “Wait, what? No!” I plead, and the cab driver, that jerk, nods and pulls away. “I didn’t do anything!” My heart begins to pound as my mind races through the number of scenarios of what could happen next.

  Headlights speed toward us, and I’m forced to shield my eyes, but when the vehicle pulls up to the side, I understand.

  Damien climbs out of his car and storms over to us. “Thanks, Jerald. I’ve got her. I’ll make sure to let Commissioner Stephens know what a fine officer he has on his staff.”

  The officer nods. “I appreciate that, Mr. Cross. Have a good night now.”

  My mouth drops. He didn’t. “You—you son of a bitch!” I scream. I turn to throw a closed fist his way, but he’s faster, angrier. His palm stops my swing, and he pulls me away from the street into the alley.

  “You asshole! You can’t just—”

  “Shut the fuck up and listen,” he barks, caging me against the cold brick building.

  I push back, using all my force to fight him. “You have nothing I care to hear. You think I’m just a useless toy. How could you do that? Why her? Make a fool out of me, fine, but her? Do you honestly think that low of me? Am I truly just a game to you?” I hate myself for crying, but I can’t stop.

  “I don’t. Just…fuck. Listen to me.”

  “No! Let me go! Game’s over. I’m done being some meaningless toy for you.” I yank hard, freeing my hands. They slam against his chest, shoving him, to no avail.

  His hold on me only tightens and he presses me harder into the wall. “Dammit, you’re not a game. Stop saying that.”

  Lies.

  “No, I won’t fall for your lies again. This is what you’re good at.”

  “Oh, give me a break,” he scoffs, taking a step back. His hands are in his hair, tugging at his long strands. He looks maddened. Wild.

  I shake my head. “You may think I’m dumb, but I’m smart enough to know when I’m being played. I no longer want anything to do with this. With you.”

  His eyes dart to mine. “Bullshit, you’re not done. You’re just as much into this as I am,” he says as if challenging me. But I’m stronger than he thinks.

  “No, I’m not. I’ve been acting, just like you. You’re not the only one who knows how to use someone—”

  My breath catches as he darts back at me. Once again, he captures my wrists and wrenches them above my head. “Oh, yeah?” His voice low. He thrusts himself into me.

  “Let me go!” I yell, but he doesn’t budge.

  “No. Prove to me you don’t want this.”

  I struggle under his hold. His body is too close. My mind is fighting to stay focused. “You disgust me,” I bite, pulling at my arms.

  His eyes light with a fire behind his irises. “I do, do I?” The hold he has on my wrists tighten, and I groan. He’s starting to hurt me.

  “Let me go!”

  “Not a chance. You started this. You stormed into my club. My life. I didn’t ask to have a fucking wrench thrown into my world because some beautiful girl had to fulfill a dare.”

  I cry, wishing he would just release me. I’m ashamed of the tears still racing down my face. He doesn’t deserve them. “Well, I wish I never did.”

  “Too late. Too fucking late.” His mouth crushes over mine. His kiss is rough, almost brutal. I fight him until I no longer can and give in, kissing him back, just as ruthlessly. He’s quick, one hand locking around my wrists as the other lowers to my skirt. He’s not gentle, nor does he ask for permission. He’s lost in his own frustration. His fingers rip at my panties and he’s shoving two massive fingers inside me. I cry out in my own battle. Filling me, owning me, I feel alive. I want him to take me and control me. Push me to limits I’ve never known existed. But not like this. Not out of anger or regret,

  “You’re fucking soaking wet around my fingers,” he growls, pulling out and slamming them back in.

  God, fight him, Jensen.

  “Your pussy is eating me up, baby. Tell me it’s not because you want me here.”

  Thrust.

  Thrust.

  Thrust.

  He pulls his lips away from mine. His hand releases my captured wrists and they fall limp at my sides. I make no attempt to fend him off me or fight him to stop.

  We’re in an alleyway.

  Anyone can see us.

  This is wrong.

  But I can’t stop.

  “Stop lying to yourself. You want this. Say it.”

  I refuse. I can’t. “No…” I moan at the feel of his knuckles hitting my o
pening.

  “Say it, goddammit! Say you want this just as much as I do.”

  His unexpected confession detonates something inside me, and my insides clench around him.

  “That’s right. This orgasm is mine. You’re mine. Fucking mine.”

  He thrusts inside me with the force of a wild bull as I pulsate around him. “Goddammit,” he growls. “You madden me. I need to be completely inside you.” He pulls out, and his frantic hands seize my waist. He flips me, and my hands go up against the brick building. My skirt is pushed up my thighs followed by the sound of his zipper. My heart kicks into overdrive as he forces my legs apart.

  “Are you done denying this? Us?”

  I don’t answer fast enough, and a hard slap lands across my ass cheek.

  “I’m not a patient man. Answer me.” His grip tightens, and a moan tumbles through me. Another slap. “Jesus, answer me.” His voice is low and rugged.

  “Yes, I’m done. Please…” I moan, needing him to touch me. Be inside me.

  “That’s right. I win. I win you.” He thrusts his hard cock into me from behind, thrusting rough and quick, bringing me to my second orgasm too quickly. I squeeze around him just as a low growl rumbles up his throat and he explodes. His hot seed surges inside me, marking me as his.

  We’re both panting loudly, struggling to breathe. With each strangled breath, I can’t seem to get enough air into my lungs. My legs shake, threatening to give out, but his strong arms holding me prevent me from falling. The silence becomes too much for me, so I speak first. “What do you want from me, Damien? You’re confusing me, and I can’t handle—”

  “I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry.” His head dips, and the tip of his nose brushes against the column of my throat. His mouth is soft as his hands put more pressure around my waist and his lips press against my skin. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I…I just fucking lost it.” He pauses for a moment, running his tongue over my pulse point. “You just have no idea what it’s like for me. How it’s been since you showed up. You’re not my normal. You’re nothing I’ve been groomed to desire, but everything I want.”