Weak for Him

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Weak for Him Page 12

by Lyra Parish


  Belinda walked over to a smoky gray corset with cream lace lined through the sides.

  "It arrived yesterday, and if I remember correctly, it's your size. It was a special gift from a European designer and sent straight to the store. A nice little surprise, I thought."

  She handed it to me with a smile and pointed toward the dressing room. "Let me know if you need any help," she said.

  The detailing and thread, which was also cream-colored, looked hand sewn. Whoever made this took pride in their work, and if it fit, I would take pride in wearing it. I removed my clothes and couldn't wait to feel the soft silk and lace on my body. Like the glass slipper in Cinderella, every piece of the wonderfully handcrafted lingerie fit perfectly. I laced up back as tight as I could, and smiled.

  "How's it going in there, honey?" I heard her say from the front counter.

  "You have to see this, Belinda. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever worn."

  I lifted my hair above my neck and checked out my backside as footsteps travel down the hallway. She would be so thrilled to see how well it fit. The doorknob jiggled, and I unlocked it.

  "See how well it fits my hips?" I dropped my hair and focused on jade green eyes.

  Finn.

  "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said.

  I swallowed. I opened my mouth and closed it.

  "Glad to know I can handpick lingerie for you."

  He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him. Our lips slammed into one another with so much force and passion, and we couldn't get enough of one another. Want and need, and desire mixed inside of our mouths, we fought a battle neither one of us would ever win. He pushed me against the wall, and I moaned his name.

  "Finn."

  His forehead touched mine, and he placed one finger over my lips.

  "Shh."

  I opened mouth and began sucking his lip, wishing it were him. With gentle hands, he ran his fingers across my face and through my hair. Soft lips kissed my neck, my mouth, and the tops of my breasts, causing little chill bumps to cover my body. My heart fluttered with excitement.

  "Each time I think of you with Luketon, it kills a small piece of me." He nibbled on my ear. "I can't stand the thought of you lying in bed with him. You giving that piece of yourself that should belong to me… that piece of you that I've wanted since the first time I laid eyes on you."

  I ran my hands up his shirt and brushed them across his skin. He continued to whisper. "You drive me crazy. Your hair. Your smell. Your innocence."

  I needed to talk. To tell him how I felt, but each time, he would stop and kiss my mouth.

  "Don't say a word," he said, breathlessly.

  "I've never loved another person since… I don't know how. But I know that loving you would be easy," he said, giving me more of his all-encapsulating kisses.

  This is it, I thought. The moment where he would tell me how he truly feels. Where we would speak all of the unspoken words we exchanged with our bodies. I waited for him to tell me everything I wanted to hear.

  "But we can't keep doing this, Jennifer."

  And as if someone punched me in the throat, he pulled away and shut me off instantaneously. Before I completely lost Finnley, I begged, pulling the hem of his shirt for him to come closer.

  "Please," I somehow managed to choke out.

  One last time, he grabbed the bottom of my chin, and kissed me so soft, so sweet, so sensually that I almost melted into him completely.

  "We can't do this ever again, Jennifer. This has to stop now before we're in too deep. Before we do something that we both regret."

  He turned and walked to the door, but stopped before leaving.

  "I would never regret any moments I share with you," I said.

  Crossing his arms, Finn leaned against the door, taking one last look as if he would never see me this way again.

  "Luketon will love seeing you in that."

  He leaned over, pressed his lips against my cheek, and then he was gone.

  The jingle of the bell rang down the hall, letting the whole building know that he had left. Deflated, completely and utterly empty, I sat on the floor and tried not to let my emotions take over. Eventually, I would break down. But it wouldn't be today.

  The realization hit that maybe I was weak after all, weak for Finnley Felton.

  Eighteen

  I stood and slowly untied the delicate lace.

  Like a robot, I slipped on my clothes and marched to the front of the store.

  Is this what heartbreak felt like? Is this what the sad songs sung about?

  What the hell did I think would happen between us, anyway? I'm nothing more than protocol. Something pretty to look at like a glass ornament or a trinket.

  Belinda placed the lingerie in a pretty little box and tied it with a bow; rapport, she had it.

  "I'll charge it to the account, honey."

  Finn's account.

  Funny how he special ordered it just for me, and showed up to tell me that very thing. Just another dose of mind-fuckery and Finnley games before I would wear this to bed for another man. The lingerie was nothing more than a fucked up reminder that Finn owned me, that no matter what, no matter who took my virginity, I would always be his property.

  Outside of the storefront, Jesse leisurely sat on a bench and smoked a cigarette. When she saw me, she smudged it on the cement and blew out the rest of the smoke. An Elite wasn't supposed to smoke. Bitch broke her own rules.

  "I assume you found what you needed."

  "I did, actually."

  I tried not to sound like a bitch, but it was a little harder than I thought. My mood and emotions already had too many vicissitudes, and it was barely lunchtime. I wanted a do-over of this day, but that wasn't an option. Next stop, the fucking dress shop, Cynthia's.

  Cynthia's always intimidated me. Only upper class women shopped in stores where dresses were tailored to their body shape. We had nothing like this at home.

  Jesse, always the businesswoman, leader of the Girls, spoke with the woman in quiet whispers.

  "Oh, really? I have just the gown for the occasion."

  From the back closet, Sophia, the snobbish dress tailor, pulled a midnight blue, semi-sequined A-lined dress from the closet.

  "For twenty-five percent of the cost, I can have it ready by this afternoon at five."

  "That works for us."

  Sophia guided me toward the dressing room with the gown in tow. The sleeves fell on my shoulders and insinuated my collarbone. Give me a set of big glasses and an up-do, and I would be a replica of Audrey Hepburn.

  I walked barefoot into the room and stood upon the pedestal. From the corner of the room, oohs and ahhs echoed from the surrounding women admiring the dress. I tried to ignore them.

  "You'll clean up real nice. Just a set of pearls, a pair of nice heels, and you'll be set to attend the party."

  "Party?"

  "Shit. You weren't supposed to know yet." Jesse glared at Sophia, who didn't and wouldn't apologize for the slip up. Looks like she met her match.

  "What party?" I asked.

  "That shouldn't be your concern at the moment," Jesse said.

  With a tug, Sophia tightened the waist on the dress, straightened the collar where a modest amount of breast showed, and hemmed the skirt to calf-length. The dark blue dress screamed elegant while my mind screamed dirty whore. Images of Finnley tying me to the bed and licking my body in naughty places overtook my mind. I wanted to give him the best fuck of his life until we both lay breathless in each other's arms. Although I was a virgin, I knew what I wanted. My body begged to be touched, and the thought of Finn fucking me made me wet.

  "Does that sound okay?" Jesse stared at me.

  "What's that?"

  "Letting Sophia pick out your shoes."

  "It's whatever. Size eight."

  I went into the dressing room, lifted the dress over my head, and placed it on the hanger. My panties were wet with thoughts of Finn, but my body
was deflated.

  With a smirk, I placed two fingers down my panties. My nipples hardened as I touched myself. I removed my bra and panties and took a good look at myself in the mirror. Horny girl. But I need this. With my thumb and index finger, I pinched my nipples and felt small jolts of electricity rush through my body. Was I really going to do this in the most stuck up place in Vegas? Fuck it.

  I leaned up against the wall and parted my legs. I wanted the satisfaction of watching myself in the mirror. Being able to see my body, to see the pinkness between my open legs, turned me on. I opened my legs further and rubbed my fingers up and down, teasing myself. I moved two fingers around, just as Finn taught me. My clit hardened, and my breathing increased. The sweet build inside of me began. Oh, it was happening so quickly this time.

  Trying to savor the moment, I moved my hands up and down my breasts and even dipped the edge of one finger inside, but only enough to make me quake with want and desire. I closed my eyes and imagined Finn watching me pleasure myself as he stroked his hardness. Finn. I didn't even know I was whispering his name as I touched myself. My body begged for it, pleading for me to give it more. More fantasies of Finn fucking me on the kitchen counter, on the table, in the pool, followed. Finn. And then the rush of emotions overcame me. I moaned as my body exploded with sweet release and I felt the powerful clinch down below. Not wanting the orgasm to end, I slowly continued to touch myself until the sensitivity was too much for me to handle. I sucked in a deep breath and my heartbeat raced. For the rest of the day, this virgin would be useless. But at least the sexual frustration had vanished.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  "Hurry up." Jesse stood on the other side of the door. I could see her heels from under the crack in the door.

  "Getting dressed, be right out."

  Jesse stormed away, and I rushed to dress into my clothes. I snatched the hanger with the soon-to-be altered dress and headed toward Sophia. With a look of disapproval, she jerked the dress from my hand. She knew. They all knew. But quite frankly, I didn't give a shit.

  She led me to the counter, leaned over, and quietly whispered, "We aren't idiots, you know?"

  I leaned over and whispered back, "Maybe if you had an orgasm every once in a while, you all wouldn't be so uptight."

  Then in a full voice, I said, "Call me if you need some masturbation pointers." Sophia fumed as I left the building.

  Although my body relaxed, my nerves were on the edge. Friday night, I would no longer be a virgin, and it no longer would be a big deal. I could move on with my life and have sex with whomever. No more bid wars, no more jealousy, no more virgin, and for the first time, I was truly okay with that.

  The car seemed like a good place to get away, close my eyes, and run through my day so far. Jesse stormed behind me, not saying a word.

  The rest of the day flew by. My legs felt silky smooth, and so did everything else. Once my hair was trimmed, eyebrows shaped, and body massaged, I just wanted to take a nap. The mimosas didn't help. Jesse left me at the spa alone, and I couldn't help but think about Friday.

  Would I feel any different?

  Would I no longer be special to Finn, Luke, and to the other Elite who wanted me? Did it even matter in the realm of things?

  I lounged in the waiting area, and then dressed.

  My life would change.

  There was no doubt about that.

  I sucked in a deep breath and made my way inside the house. V sat in the driveway, so I knew Finn was home. After the shit he pulled today, and after the mess he left me in, my feelings were broken. Hurt because he validated what I knew. We would never be anything more than what we were: coworkers.

  But did I want more?

  Or was it just an addicting game that I had to win?

  My feelings were in braids, and I didn't know which strand I wanted as I tried to undo them.

  Before I opened the door, I secretly hoped he wouldn't be within sight. My hands were full of the midnight blue dress, lingerie, and three-inch heels Sophia picked out for me. I just wanted to go upstairs.

  As I walked in, Finn sat at the table with a crossword puzzle. My breath hitched as I looked at him. But I forced it away, trying not to give him another glance, and climbed the stairs two at a time. Refusing to turn around, I went to my room and lightly swung open the door. Everything that was in my hands fell to the floor and I leaned against the door with my eyes closed.

  On the bed, there was a black envelope and a small box. I didn't want to read it, but curiosity killed me. Giving in begrudgingly, I peeled open the envelope and pulled out the soft paper.

  Wear this on Friday.

  -F

  I lifted the lid on the box and moved the white tissue paper aside. A black mask with silver feathers and embroidered doves lay in the bottom of the box. The dress, the shoes, the mask… I would attend a masquerade ball. Everyone kept the secret from me, and Finnley made sure to have his Girl prepared. The mask matched the lining of the dress and the lingerie perfectly, and somehow I knew he had handpicked each piece.

  I placed the mask back in its box and the rest of the virginity-losing-gear in the closet.

  Nineteen

  Days and nights passed, and Finn avoided me like the plague until Friday came. I hadn't heard from Luke in days, and Lori was away on business.

  Loneliness lingered and left me to my thoughts. Not random ones, but terrible thoughts of my parent's death. I tried to busy myself in books and fantasy worlds, and the fictional people helped take me away. Mr. Darcy and others filled my waking and sleeping moments. Each day seemed to be a repeat of the one before until Fucking Friday arrived.

  Fucking Friday, I had termed it, was the day that I would have sexy time. I joked about watching porn, but without anyone to talk to, I almost wanted to have a porn-a-thon to get some sort of idea. I would call Abbie, but the bitchy text from her threatening to punch me in the throat the next time she saw me because I didn't call or see her while I was home kept me silent.

  After I showered, I looked in the mirror and studied each part of my naked body, wondering if I would feel different the day afterward, or if all would be the same. I would lose my virginity. Would I enjoy the first time? Would it hurt? Would Luke use whips or chains, or would he be sweet and careful with me? I didn't know the answer because I felt like there were things about him I didn't know.

  Hours passed, and I fidgeted with my hair and makeup until I felt pretty. Barrel curls, smoky gray eye shadow, and deep red lipstick matched the attire and my mood. I wanted to be scandalous and sexy, and once I slipped into the lingerie, I did.

  I placed the mask on my face. It fit like it were designed for me alone, just as everything else had, because it was.

  A smile crept across my face, and a tinge of excitement traveled through me. If it wouldn't have been a social event, I would have gone in the sexy undergarments and a long coat. Imagining how Luke would lust over me made me feel powerful.

  Always ever so punctual, I arrived downstairs early and waited for Charlie. I peeked out the window and saw V on the circle drive. My nerves went haywire when I thought about the box with the little ribbon, the lingerie, and how I hadn't spoken to him in days. Not since the day he walked away. I closed my eyes and hoped he wouldn't see me before I met Luke. I didn't need him to drive a deadly spear into my happiness.

  Lady Luck was on my side this time. I escaped without seeing Finn, but the silence that lingered in the limo gave me too much time to think and overanalyze his actions.

  Exotic cars lined the circle drive. Chatter and music drifted from the house. To my right sat the black and silver mask. As we slowed, I adjusted it over my face and took a deep breath. Tonight was the night.

  A man wearing stark white gloves and a penguin-flapped suit escorted me to the entrance where a woman handed me a crystal flute of champagne. Resist, I did not.

  I glided through the crowd like a ghost in a graveyard, searching for Luke. Pretty girls accompanied handsome men. Fan
cy shoes and dresses combined with evening hair, and elegant masks of all different shapes and sizes. Some wore full masks; others wore those that only covered half their faces.

  I entered the living area where a staircase rose up the middle. The second floor looked over the crowd below. Soft music followed by laughter surrounded the business talk, but Luke was nonexistent.

  I finished my champagne and replaced it with another. Fresh strawberries floated in the top of my glass and the sweetness filled my mouth, making my taste buds explode with the delicious flavor. Curious, I took the stairs to the upper floor and smiled as I passed familiar, but unknown faces.

  He had done well with decorating the place. At the top of the winding stairs hung a perfect rendition of Van Gogh's Starry Night. The detail in the brush strokes and the preciseness it took to get it just right amazed me.

  I continued to sip my strawberry champagne, and walked further down the halls, appreciating each painting. At the end of the hall, a picture hung that I had experienced in real life. The painting portrayed Luke and I at the park the first night we met. The moon held the craters, and glow of the real one, but the stars shone brighter. In the painting, Luke smiled at… me. My eyes were looking toward the ground, and I laughed. Every characteristic and detail represented my innocence in the simplest form. Innocence I felt I had lost somewhere in the mix.

  "Do you like it?"

  Startling me from my gaze, I gulped and turned. Luke.

  "I love it. But the detail… it's amazing."

  "I painted what I remembered of the first night we spent together. I named this one Something New. The others I've painted have been abstract, copies, or simple illustrations, and I treasure them. But this, this is a memory that will be forever burned into my mind," Luke said.

  "You painted this?"

  The more I learned, the more I realized I was out of my league. His baby blues shined behind his navy mask. They sparkled like the diamonds he had painted in the sky. He smiled, nodded, and continued to walk down the hallway, describing each painting. I lusted over the colors and shading. Each one held a memory, they weren't just art. They were experiences on canvas.

 

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