by Amber Burns
I found myself thinking, Okay, come on, come on already, Molly, stop teasing… show me those eyes… come on, wake up, and be okay, show me your eyes already...
I was mentally cheering her on like some delusional sports fan wills its team to win the game; as if any of that success depended upon the person watching the event unfold before them. Yes, I still cheered and bouncing anxiously on my toes. Finally, after so many stretched out, labored seconds of breath catching in my throat, of blinks catching on her lashes just before her eyelids opened and revealed those starry orbs, finally, finally, her eyes opened, and she blinked; once, then again. And then she woozily pushed herself up into a sitting position and looked slowly, dopily about the room, as if just waking from a drug-induced dream.
She looked left again, and then right again, and then patted the bedspread that she sat upon uncertainly, as if feeling its softness for the first time. And that was when her slow waking mind thought to look up, and her eyes landed on me.
Her thin lips fell open, and she stared at me, completely uncomprehending. She looked from the bed, to me, and then down to herself again. I could practically hear her brain racing to deduce what had happened and I knew I had to step in.
“No, no, no,” I said, horrified, taking a quick step forward. “That is not what happened here. Not at all.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide with… horror? Disgust? It was impossible to read her. She pushed the blankets off of her and crawled to the edge of the bed, her actions clumsy and disjointed. She came to rest at the foot of the bed and slowly swung her feet over the edge, assuming a childlike perch upon the foot of the bed.
She is so fucking pretty.
I heard the words, and it took me a moment to realize that they were my own thoughts. I bit down hard on my lip, both embarrassed and shocked. But it was true, she was. Her thick glasses had fallen off her face and lay now upon her lap and her bare face was left naked for me to look at. She was all pale skin and cheeks kissed with pink and pouting lips and dark, doe eyes. I felt something in me stir. Back then, back there, in the stage left lounge, I had kissed her as a gameplay, like a move across a chess board. I was trying to lure her in with the learned moves of lust that I had practiced so many times before. But now, could I actually be attracted to Molly? Could that be fucking possible?
As I stared at the woman that sat blinking before me, trying to decide if my feelings could really be true, I noticed that some sort of fogginess seemed to cling to the corners of her gaze. I was instinctively reminded of the face I found staring back at me in the mirror after one of my far too exuberant nights out. The face that emerged after dipping my fingers into the candy bowls filled with colorful pills and powders. I snapped my fingers; that was it. That had to be it.
“Look, look, look,” I said, taking a tentative perch beside her upon the bed, several careful inches away. “I think I know. I think I know what happened, Molly.” I paused for a moment as her eyes fell upon me, her cheeks were pink again, but her eyes remained foggy and unreadable while her movements were slow. She tilted her head to the right as if its weight was surprising to her, something she had just become aware of right this moment. I took a breath and looked into her dark eyes.
“Alright,” I said. “Alright. I think… possibly… well, it seems very likely…” I took a breath and cleared my throat and then just spat it out. “I think perhaps you had a drink.”
Molly stared at me for several long, silent moments. Her blank eyes roamed over the expanse of my face. After long seconds she raised a finger up, and my eyebrows climbed up my forehead, encouraging her words.
“I did,” she said slowly.
I nodded vigorously, now quite certain that my suspicion was, in fact, a fact.
“Okay,” I said. I took a breath again, keeping my eyes fixated upon Molly. She moved slowly, tilting her head ever so slowly, as if moving through thick, thick water, back and forth. “I think, Molly, dear,” I said carefully. “That you may have, well, that you definitely have ingested a bit of a substance that was more than likely dropped into your drink.”
Molly looked down at her hands, then glanced up at me and smiled. She leaned forward and lifted a finger up. Then, to my complete shock, placed it upon my chin. I blinked. She grinned. She then dragged her finger slowly across my lips, her own lips hanging open. She looked up at my eyes and smiled again, then slipped her finger off of my lip and slid her hand down to rest on my upper thigh. I took a breath. Her hand lay dangerously close to my cock, and I did not want to risk being turned on by her when she was like this, in this state. To my shock, she began to slowly run her fingers up and down my leg, massaging my muscular inner thigh. I felt the blood begin to rush down towards my dick and knew I had to get away from her before I got rock hard from her touch.
“O….kay….” I said, my body stiff with discomfort.
I cleared my throat, uncertain as to what I should do. I tried shifting away from Molly while she made an attempt to slide her hand off of my thigh. But that did not work at all. As I moved my body away from her, slipping further down the bed, her fingers drove into my thigh, and her nails clutched at my leg. I grimaced at the squeeze of her nails driving sharply into my muscles, and froze. I cleared my throat and glanced her way nervously. She was sitting still, staring straight ahead, so that I was unable to tell whether or not she was consciously making a move on me, or the drugs had taken hold of her completely and she had no idea what her body was doing. It drove me absolutely crazy. Me, suddenly impossibly attracted to this woman; her, wanting to touch me. And yet, of course, I was not going to let her do that; not when she was like this.
We sat for a moment there, just like that, neither of us moving. Me, not moving because I was trying to figure out what the fuck I should do in this kind of a situation. I had, in my time, had many women grab at me without my encouragement; but never before had I had a recently unconscious, definitely drugged, conservatively clad, geeky brand new employee attempt a very intense upper thigh grab on me. Especially not while I sat there, entirely sober. I tapped my foot nervously and glanced at the door, almost hoping that someone would barge in and help me out of this intensely awkward situation. But no, of course, no one was about to come barging in. I had seen that that would not happen by ensuring that I locked and secured the doors. I sighed and glanced out of the corner of my eye at Molly. She now seemed to wear a content smile across her pink cheeks while her eyelids drooped lazily. I nodded to myself; yes, she was definitely drugged, and no, she probably had no idea that she was gripping my upper thigh. In fact, and the thought actually made me chuckle aloud, I was willing to bet the world that Molly would fly into a hearty panic if she had any notion at all that she now sat, drugged and dopey, squeezing her brand new employer’s upper thigh.
Molly yawned, and I took this opportunity to gently pry her fingers free from my thigh and leap up off of the bed. She did not at all seem startled by my sudden movement; instead, she stared dreamily up at me and leaned forward, tipping her face into her hands and grinning at me seductively. I felt heat rise into my cheeks and cleared my throat; I was not at all comfortable with this situation. There was no way I was going to allow Molly to do anything tonight; other than sleep whatever drugs she had ingested properly off and rid her system of this dopey, lazy stupor. I cleared my throat and took a step backward, putting more distance between myself and this woman, this woman who I was somehow going to have to be engaged to by the end of this very week.
“Alright, there, Miss Molly, my dear,” I said awkwardly, trying to muster up some of my usual suave confidence. “I am going to get going now because you happen to need some sleep.”
Molly looked up at me, her foggy eyes suddenly wide as saucers. She nodded slowly and then reached behind her and began to unzip her dress. I held up my hands and took several quick steps backward toward the door.
“Oh no no no,” I said, backing up so quickly that I hit my shoulders hard against the closed double doors. “No
no, Miss Molly, my dear, you do not want to be doing that right now,” I said, my cheeks flushing and my eyes dropping uncomfortably to the floor.
Molly grinned and tipped her head back and forth, tauntingly, teasingly.
“Oh, no, Mister Nikko,” she said, stretching the words out. “I most definitely do want to be doing this right now,” she drawled as she flopped back onto the bed and began to wriggle out of her sheath dress.
That was about all I could take. Anymore, and I would definitely be waking up not only bound by the pressures of marrying this woman by the end of the week but also finding myself engaged with her in a hefty lawsuit. My heart began to race as my fingers found the lock and quickly threw it open.
“Alright, good night, lights are going off now. Sleep well, and we can talk about all of this craziness in the morning!” I squealed and rushed out of the room, slamming the door tightly closed behind me.
I leaned my back against the safely secured doors, breathing heavily for a few moments. My mind racing as I glanced left and right and then left and right again, incredibly anxious that some random witness might spy me exiting the room and come to nasty, false conclusions about what might have transpired inside. I caught my breath and was about to take a step away from the closed doors and towards the staircase when a thought rattled my mind: What if Molly managed to leave the room and returned to the party in her current, off kilter state?
That would not do. Not only would it ruin her image, but it would, thereby, make her an unsuitable future bride for me. That would totally defeat all of my chances at pleasing the owner of the company and keeping ahold of my job as CEO. I weighed my options for a moment, and then came to a quick decision. I bent down and flicked up the tiny flap of loose carpeting that set at the edge of the floor, right where the door met the ground. My fingers found the tiny silver key, the spare key to the room that Molly now sat in. I fitted the silver key into the lock and quickly twisted, effectively locking Molly into the room. Then I pocketed the key. I needed to ensure Molly’s dignity, and so I was taking no chances. Finally feeling reassured and a bit more at ease, I let my breath fall from my lungs and descended down the steps once more.
As I walked down the hallway back towards the dance floor, I could not stop thinking about the girl I had tucked into bed. She had been so beautiful, stunning even. Though not in the way the girls who frequented my sort of parties were pretty, but in a different way; a real way. Molly did not wear a single speck of makeup and yet something in her cheeks glowed and something in her eyes sparkled. Before tonight, I really had not known that that could be possible, that a girl could look so absolutely sexy without wearing anything but her own beauty and honesty upon her body and face.
Yet, that was exactly what I had felt with her, back up there, sitting on that bed in that room. I could not deny it now as my dick was still a bit hard, and I was forced to slam my fists into my pockets as I slowly walked down the hall. I was attracted to Molly. I had wanted to kiss her pretty pink cheeks, soothe her out of her current, uncomfortable state. I had wanted to lay her down and make love to her. I shook my head, forcing the thoughts away. I had to return to the party because I had a man I needed to talk to. If anyone was going to be able to tell me how Molly had ended up seemingly drugged, it was the man I was now going to speak with.
7
Nikko
The dance floor had emptied considerably as the hands of the clock had slid closer and closer to the four am mark. Now only a dozen or so party attendees remained giggling and pouring bubbly liquids down their throats. The others had all retired to private rooms, or had called their drivers to escort their drunken selves’ home. I smiled at the drowsy women that tipped their breasts towards me as I passed across the floor, my shining shoes clicking audibly upon the golden tiles. My body was well attuned to the mandatory small waves and necessary smiles that were required to abate my guests as I passed through the room and so these flew from my muscular form with ease. But all the while, as I wound my way across the floor, my eyes remained trained upon one particular guest. He stood at the very opposite side of the room from me, his gestures slinky, and his loud voice seeming to drip with dirt. He wore a top hat and a green bow tie, and a single, diamond encrusted hoop earring hung from his left ear. As I approached I was able to make out snippets of the conversation that dripped from his lips:
“...and that is why you should never fuck a girl in a bathroom in lower Dubai,” he wheezed, and the group of women around him tittered drunkenly, their long, pink fingernails slapping at his pocket watch and their sparkling eyelids fluttering at him. I pushed through the group of doting, drunken girls and positioned myself several feet away from the man in question.
“Leonard Carmichael,” I nodded, my hard voice cutting through the laughter that rolled off of the girls’ lips.
Leonard’s shifty eyes darted towards me, and he forced a smile onto his narrow, sunken in face.
“Ahh, why if it isn’t Mister Nikko Cartwright,” Leonard wheezed, parting his lips to reveal two gold teeth. “A pleasure as always to run into you. Here of all places,” he added, his fingers playing with the wrist of the blonde girl who stood next to him.
“Well, it is not so much of a surprise to ‘run into me here,’ as you like to put it,” I shot back, ignoring the way the woman petted at Leonard as his beady eyes glittered at me. “This is, after all, my party.”
The girls looked my way then, several of them looking quickly from Leonard to me and then back to Leonard again; as if trying to decide whether or not I had suddenly deemed myself more worthwhile of their fawning and doting than the man with the diamond earring. Leonard smirked at me, his tiny rodent-like eyes turning cold.
“Ahh, why yes,” he choked out, petting at one of the blonde girls’ stiff curls. “I suppose that is true. I suppose that it is your party, in the sense that you are the individual who sought to throw it. But, in the sense of who commandeered all of the attention….” he lifted his hands up, and I noticed that he wore nearly two rings upon each finger, “....well, in that sense, I think that there is no contest.” He grinned at me again, his two golden teeth catching the light that bounced off the chandeliers and sparkling. “In that sense, it is my party, is it not?”
I stiffened and tried to maintain my composure. I flashed Leonard my most charming smile and retorted politely. “Some, if not all, would argue at that. But still, very well met, my friend, very well met.”
Leonard nodded and slipped his arms down the backs of two Asian women who appeared to be identical twins. His long nails clicked against their jeweled dresses. He tilted his head my way, his top hat seeming to beckon me to continue speaking.
“All formalities aside,” he said, straightening the top hat to its upright position again. “What has brought you all the way across the room to speak with the likes of me?”
His words dripped with grime and obvious sarcasm. A lesser man than me would have been immediately set off by Leonard’s games and would likely have thrown a punch, or seven, just by the very tone that Leonard so expertly used. But I am not a lesser man. Instead of throwing punches, I smiled, and then bowed, deciding to serve up just as much sardonic sarcasm as Leonard was set on dishing out.
“Oh, Leonard, my friend,” I said, my head bowed towards him. “You know full well that I need no reason to seek out such lauded company as yours.” I straightened back up to my full height, flashing another one of my expertly charming smiles his way. “That being said,” I added, taking a moment to straighten my collar in such a way that allowed my muscles to flex to their full girth. “I would like to ask you a question, if that would be permitted. Only, of course, if you are not too… preoccupied,” I said, glancing at the girls that clung drunkenly from Leonard’s arms.
Leonard’s lips twitched quickly, and something roared triumphantly inside of me at the sight of him almost dropping his composure. The greasy millionaire quickly recomposed himself, though, and dropped the women from his arms.
<
br /> “I do indeed happen to have time for a question,” he said, taking a step forward. “But only on one condition.”
I eyed Leonard with distrust. His top hat sat at a jaunty angle; his earring dangled tauntingly from his ear. Now that he stood so close to me, I could smell the alcohol that hung so thickly from his breath. He was every inch the lecherous, heavy drinking, two-faced, millionaire bachelor that the tabloids loved to riff about in the gossip columns. But I was richer, not to mention more successful. It was well known that Leonard had made his money through a very discreet bit of money laundering and shaking hands with the right dangerous people. He had spent a bit of time locked up behind bars, and he knew a lot of people who could see to it that you never walked again, if he wanted that to be done.