by Arika Stone
I walked to the attendant at the counter. “Excuse me, my name is Eve Lauren, and I am in suite 603. There was a strange gentleman who got off on the same floor. Tall, dark hair, blue eyes, British accent. Can you tell me if he is with the press?”
“I am sorry. I do not know that information.”
“Well, can you tell me if he is staying in an adjoining room to mine?” I was frustrated.
“I cannot disclose that information.” The clerk’s face was stone cold.
I fished through my purse and pulled out fifty euros, folding it and sliding it to her across the counter.
“He’s next door to you in 605.”
I put on my sunglasses and headed to my floor. I knew my suspicions were right.
I stepped out of the elevator, checking both ways to see if he was in sight. Thankfully, I was able to slip inside my suite unnoticed.
The phone rang early at seven forty-five. My stomach fluttered as I picked it up.
“This is Antti from the front desk. I have a gentleman named Valo Ruska here for you.”
“Send him up.” I hung up and checked myself in the mirror. I hoped we would be more casual this date. Besides, I’d packed all my clothes.
He knocked on the door, and my heart skipped a beat as I opened it. There he was, as gorgeous as ever—in a tuxedo.
I looked down at my outfit and sighed. “I didn’t know this was a formal date. I have nothing to wear!” I laughed nervously.
Val stepped inside the room. “Hello, beautiful.” He leaned in for a kiss. “Not to worry. I bought you something.” He held out two exquisite boxes. “For you.”
I accepted his gifts and opened the boxes. Inside were a gorgeous, shimmering charcoal dress and shoes to die for. He’d spent a small fortune on me. It wasn’t the glamour or the cost that impressed me. It was the romantic gesture these gifts represented.
“Thank you. I’ll get changed.” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
“I wasn’t sure if you had anything formal.” He followed me into the bathroom. “Why are your bags packed?”
“I’m not leaving, but I am switching hotels.”
“That’s a relief. Did you find a suite with a tub?”
I shifted out of my pants and bent over, putting on a show. I winked as I stretched back up.
“You’re avoiding the question.” He smiled at my little striptease.
I sighed. “Val, I like that you’re a bit of a mystery to me, but for whatever reason, you’re famous…” My words drifted as I pulled on the dress. “Can you zipper me?” I moved toward him, flipping my hair to expose my neck.
“You’re such a tease.” He obliged, kissing my neck as he zippered me up. “Now about what I’m known for, you’ll see tonight. But as you were saying?”
“Paparazzi moved in next door.” I motioned toward the adjoining wall. “There’s a picture of us entering the hotel on some rag online. I came to get away from all of this, so I’m moving.”
“They’ll follow you.” He shook his head. “Let’s leave like we don’t care. Let them photograph us. I’ll have someone stop by, pick up your luggage, and bring it to my house. Don’t check out yet. They’ll know if you do.” He kissed me on the lips. “You can stay the rest of your holiday with me if you want to.”
The thought of moving in with him was tantalizing and terrifying. The last person I’d lived with was Jude. I knew living together brought emotional attachment, which was the last thing I wanted with Val. I couldn’t fall in love with a citizen of another country. Long-distance relationships never worked.
“Does my offer trouble you?”
“No, no. Just an inner conflict.” I walked past him into the bedroom and sat on the bed to put my shoes on.
He followed me. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I hardly know you. It seems awkward to stay with you. I was planning to stay past New Year’s.”
“So I finally got you to commit to a time period?” Val got down on one knee and braced my foot as he slid on my shoe. He made me feel like I was in a fairy tale.
“Commit is such a strong word.”
“Yes it is. Are you afraid of it?” He watched me intently, waiting for my answer.
“Sort of. A couple of months ago, my ex asked me to marry him. I didn’t agree at first, but when I was ready, I traveled to Paris to give him my answer.” I couldn’t help it. My eyes filled with tears. It was the first time I’d cried over the loss, and I didn’t know why I was doing it in front of him.
“Paris. Romantic, right? He was supposed to be on a business trip.” I began to choke up. “I got all dolled up and waited in his hotel room. He strolled in at four in the morning, drunk, carrying some girl.” I took a deep breath and composed myself.
Val handed me a tissue but said nothing, waiting for me to finish.
“So, yes, I am afraid to commit.”
“I promise for the next three months not to sleep with any other women, and after that, we can negotiate,” he teased. “Just live life and see where it takes you.”
“Thank you for listening. I appreciate it.” I pondered his words. I didn’t want to live with regret. “I’ll stay a few days, and we’ll see where it takes us.”
He wrapped his arms around me. “Now, shall we put on a good show for the vultures outside?”
“Absolutely.” I grinned, regaining my composure, quickly blotting my eyes and fixing my makeup.
It was a rocky start for the night, but I knew we could turn it around. The chemistry between us was absolutely amazing. We entered the hallway, and Val stopped in front of 605, giving the door a quick knock. Mr. Press answered.
“Did you find who you were looking for?” Val inquired, obviously amused.
Mr. Press scampered into his room, rummaging for a camera. Val snickered and led me down the hall to the elevator. Once there, he proceeded to kiss me furiously in front of it. His kisses caught me off guard as he backed me into the open elevator.
We proceeded out of the hotel in a sea of flashing lights and into the waiting car.
Val confessed. “I think I should explain. I retired from the music business last year after an awful breakdown.” He swallowed and stared out the window. “It was partly due to my ex-fiancée and partly due to my lifestyle. She was insanely jealous and couldn’t handle the pressure of me touring. When she left, I lost my muse, my desire. I couldn’t compose anymore. She sucked me dry. I reconstructed everything, including myself. I began to paint and sculpt. All this is due to my music career. They still want me to record, but I haven’t been able to do so. And the media hounds me when I am spotted with a romantic interest. As if love will spawn a new album.”
“Could it?” I understood him. I knew how love could suck you dry and turn you inside out.
“It could, I suppose, but nothing is certain. I have more to reveal to you.”
The car pulled up to a red carpet leading up to a beautiful modern building. There was a press line, a photo line, and television crews.
“What’s going on?” I questioned. It looked a bit Hollywood to me.
“My gallery opening.”
In the heart of the city center, I found the similarities of home. The culture, the shopping, the reporters, the pace of city life. I was amazed that, no matter how far I ran, my life found me. A gallery opening followed by an evening of schmoozing was surreal. Less than a few days ago, I had been contemplating leaving, and now, here I was, soaking up the extravagant celebrity and socialite life.
“I’ll be right back, darling. I need to discuss something with the curator.” Val gave me a quick kiss on the cheek as we entered the gallery before departing.
I stared at one of his sculptures, analyzing it. It was as abstract and intriguing as Val was.
“He’s an amazing artist, isn’t he?” A female voice interrupted my thoughts.
“Yes he is,” I replied to the raven-haired, blue-eyed woman who stood next to me.
She extended her hand, “M
y name is Sofia. My husband and I collect his work. Have you purchased any of his pieces before?”
I smiled and shook her hand. “I’m Eve, nice to meet you.” I paused. “This is the first show of his I am attending. I just discovered him.”
“Well, if you like anything, you better act fast. He sells out rather quickly. Sometimes there are even bidding wars.” She glanced at the piece I was eying, “Are you thinking of buying this?”
“I’m not sure,” I responded.
Sofia didn’t wait for me to continue. A gentleman across the room had caught her eye and was waving her over. “If you’ll excuse me. It was nice to meet you.”
No sooner had she left than Val approached from behind. “I see you’ve met my biggest buyer.”
“Sofia? She mentioned she collected your work.”
He chuckled. “Yes, but I’m not sure if it is because she likes my work or because she’s been trying to set me up with her daughter for years now. But that is not important. Come, darling, there’s some colleagues I would love to introduce you to.”
The evening proceeded without a hitch. Val put on an impressive show and an even more impressive after-party. The names of friends, associates, colleagues, other famous faces flew by like a train going at full speed. By the end of the evening, I was exhausted but extremely satisfied. We headed to the car arm in arm. I wondered where this would lead.
“Did you have a good evening? You charmed everyone.” He squeezed my arm.
“Thank you for a wonderful night. You are very talented.” I smiled.
“Are you ready to go home?”
Home. His words stopped me in my tracks. It sounded natural how he said it. I cocked my head to the side and grinned. “Yes, let’s go home.”
Chapter 7
“Hello?” My voice echoed throughout the first floor. I scanned the room, but there was no sign of life, except for half a pot of coffee on the counter.
I walked into the kitchen. I needed my morning caffeine fix but quickly realized I had no idea where anything was. I felt a bit uncomfortable going through his cabinets, but since Val was missing in action, I had no choice but to make myself at home. After finding a cup, I noticed the mysterious wooden door ajar.
I finished doctoring my coffee and, with my cup in tow, opened the door and stared cautiously inside. There were stairs leading down to a cellar. I crept down. “Val?”
As I reached the end of the staircase, the light began to dissipate; the room was dark except for one candle lit in the corner.
“Val?” I called out again as I carefully entered the room.
“Ouch!” I screamed, nearly losing my cup of coffee. I’d stubbed my toe on something; it was a platform to a very low bed.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw that, other than the bed, there was no furniture. An ashtray sat on the floor overflowing with cigarette butts and half-smoked joints. Beer bottles were strewn about, among numerous sheets of crumpled paper, haphazardly tossed throughout the room. And in the center of the bed lay a guitar.
No wonder I wasn’t getting any morning action. He was sleeping with his other muse. I sat on the bed to rub my toe and glance at his scribbles.
“Are you all right?”
Val’s voice startled me. “Good morning. I was looking for you.” I tried to hide the fact that I was snooping.
“Sorry, I was in my studio. I came inside and heard a scream.” He chuckled. “This is my sanctuary where I write my music. It’s sparse and dark so I can’t be distracted.”
He sat next to me, giving me a kiss on the lips. “If I’m ever lost, it’s because my studio or sanctuary sucked me into their void.”
“I wasn’t expecting to be alone this morning.” I rested my head on his shoulder.
“I had a burst of creativity last night. You inspired me. I haven’t stopped yet.”
“Do you always stay up all night working?”
“Sometimes. If the mood strikes. I could work for days with no sleep.” He smiled. “But don’t worry. It will not take away time from us. I’ll wait until you’re sleeping.”
I giggled at his comment. It sounded like something I would do. “I’ve done the same thing on occasion.” I loved that we were similar. I understood he was so overrun with creativity that it had to come out. “Would you mind showing me your studio?”
“With pleasure. It’s outside.”
I ascended the stairs in front of him so I could tempt him with a view. But my plan to seduce him backfired as his hand landed squarely on my butt cheek. “Ouch!”
“Don’t tempt me if you can’t handle it, Eve.”
I glanced over my shoulder; there was a spark in his eyes daring me to shake my ass again. I skipped up the rest of the stairs, hoping I wouldn’t catch another whip of his hand.
I followed him to the side entrance and down a narrow path overrun by decaying shrubbery. The door to the studio was a massive wooden barn door, and Val grunted as he slid it open.
“This place is huge, Val.” I eyed the room; he had the studio divided into different areas for different projects.
The loft-like studio was a disaster. There were sculptures, random paintings, and scattered works, some forgotten and covered by dust, some still in progress. We ended our journey near a tall three-dimensional sculpture made entirely of thin, intertwined metal rods.
“I was working on my next gallery show.” He traced his finger in midair to the center of the piece. “If you look closely, you can see how the metal intertwines to form words. Do you see them?”
I scanned it. “Yes, I do.” I pointed. “It says ‘love’ and ‘beckons.’” Was this prophetic?
He wrapped his arms around my waist. “What do you think of it?”
“I think it’s beautiful. I’d love it in my front garden.” His work was tremendous, and I wished the entire world could see his talent.
“Whatever you want is yours.” He leaned in for a kiss.
I pulled back, my lips grazing his. “Let’s create something together.”
“What did you have in mind?” he asked, his breath cascading onto my skin.
“I was thinking of painting. Your paints and canvasses are over there?” I sauntered across the building with him close behind. “Would you mind if we used one?”
“Not at all.”
I could feel his eyes upon me as I sorted through his materials. “What two colors should we use? I think I prefer red.” I opened a jar of thick goo, peeling a dry layer of paint off the rim.
“Depends on what we’re doing. What are we doing?” He cocked an eyebrow; he appeared amused by my actions.
“You’ll see. Now pick either yellow or blue.”
“Why only yellow or blue? Why not black?” he teased.
“Just pick one.”
“Hmm…I’m feeling more yellow than blue.”
I grabbed both cans and moved to his canvasses, laying one down on the floor. It was big enough to hold us. I turned and removed my shirt, slowly sliding it down my arms before tossing it to the side. I glanced seductively over my shoulder. “Your turn.”
He removed his shirt and headed toward me. Grazing my shoulders with his fingertips, he dove into my neck and kissed it. My body shivered in delight as his hands slid over my skin until they reached my bra, which he unsnapped masterfully. His hands brushed the straps down my arms as he moved in from behind, cupping my tits. He stroked them until he reached my nipples, tweaking them firmly.
I moaned in delight; Val knew exactly how to touch me. I turned to face him, planting a kiss on his delicious chest. My hands slithered down his chiseled abs, grasping his pants. I dropped to the floor and pulled them straight down. I stopped to lick his cock on the way up, bringing a handful of paint with me.
“Is this what you had in mind?” He grabbed my hand, and our fingers interlocked as the paint oozed out the creases. He stepped into me, easing me back until I felt a cold metal pole against my spine. He grabbed my wrists and drew them over my head
, wrapping them around the pole.
After a forceful kiss, he backed away. “Stay right there. Don’t move,” he warned in his deep, sexy accent. He walked to a table, which held many of his tools. He pondered before returning with a brush in hand.
“You want to paint?” he asked.
“Yes—”
Val cut me off, turning the tables on me. “Open your mouth.”
I did as he bade and opened my mouth. He placed the handle of a brush in it as if it was a horse bit. I was thrown by his move.
“Now,” Val said, his naked body brushing mine, “keep the brush in your mouth. And whatever you do, don’t drop it.” He kissed my ear, running his tongue along my lobe and down the underside of my jaw before biting my neck.
“Oh!” I exclaimed. My voice was muffled by the brush handle, which forced me to keep my mouth shut. His fingers traced my outstretched arms, trailing my body lightly until he reached my breasts. He licked and suckled them, tenderly biting my nipples. He pulled them forward until they were firm, erect, and begging for more.
He moved away from me again and returned to his worktable, leaving my body shivering for his touch. Returning to me with paint in hand, he took another brush and began to paint my nipples, causing irresistible tingles to ripple through my body. He moved from one breast to the other, flicking the pliable but firm bristles against my flesh. The unusual sensation practically brought me to orgasm. As I was about to peak, he stopped to refill the brush.
I threw my head back and groaned in discontent. He chuckled, aware of what had just happened. He was a master craftsman at seduction, and he was smug about it. His confidence in his fucking ability was a turn-on.
“Getting frustrated?” He drew the brush on my skin, running it the length of my stomach until he reached the top of my clit, swirling it around once before bringing it up. “You’ll have your chance to paint soon. Now keep your hands up and turn around.”
I did as he ordered. I was not in control. It felt good to relinquish power, especially to him. I felt a cool stream of paint on my back; it rolled down the center and settled between my cheeks. He dripped more paint, this time over my shoulders. It simultaneously rolled down my back and over my breasts, more slowly than it had dripped down to my ass. I could sense each drop gather weight and fall off my nipples to the floor below.