Love Through LimeLight

by Farrah Abraham

  I reach out, my fingertips tingling, itching for just a little contact.

  “Miss, do you see anything that you like?”

  I pull my hand back so fast that my elbow pops. Next to me, a passerby chuckles under his breath and I blush, turning to face the older woman who was speaking.

  Just being close to her makes me smile. She smells like warm cookies and looks like Mrs. Claus. If Santa were a plastic surgeon who used his tools liberally. She is fit and tight. Her thick, silvery hair is pulled back in a neat bun and her make-up is immaculate. Every stitch on her body is in place. Even without looking down, I know her shoes have red soles. They are black heels almost as high as mine.

  “Sorry, you probably aren’t allowed to touch, right?” I’m blushing lightly but I keep my chin level, refusing to hide my face.

  “That’s not it at all. You are perfectly free to touch.” Mrs. Claus grins and leans in with a wink. “Especially some of our live pieces.”

  I blink, stunned. Did she say what I think she did? The thought that this high-class, older woman might have a bit of inner kink makes me feel strangely comfortable. As if I didn’t realize it but, I was worried about the amount of fun I could have when I got to be her age. Right now, something inside me relaxes and I offer her a genuine smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She laughs and I relax further. “I’m sure they would be happy to be touched by the famous Fallon Opal. Oh, did you think I didn’t know who you are? You’re a celebrity, honey. People know who you are all over the world.”

  She winks at my surprise and I can’t help but giggle. “Well, I think that’s a good thing.”

  “I have no doubt that it can also be a bad thing.”

  She says it with such a sad tone that I reach out and touch her shoulder without thinking. She brightens immediately and for a minute I’m no longer worried that Harper and I got separated.

  This is a safe place, I tell myself, pushing the inkling of concern I feel deep into the back of my mind. No need to freak out.

  “I’m Jayme, by the way. Jayme Rockbell. My sister and I own this little establishment.”

  “You have a lovely gallery, Jayme. I never knew art could be so…”

  “Primal?”

  I nod, amazed that she seems to have read my mind. “Exactly. It’s much different than what I expected.”

  Jayme puts her hand on my shoulder and I force myself to relax. She is doing the same thing that I did, and the harmless gesture shouldn’t make me nervous. “I’m so glad that you feel that way, Fallon. I think art gets a bad rep sometimes. People think it’s boring and stuffy.”

  I feel my face heat, since that is exactly what I had been thinking. Jayme gently ushers me through several corridors and finally we enter a side room. It’s not very large but the walls are covered with great, large pieces of art. We stop in front of a glass box with a bottle nestled against a soft-looking material.

  “What is this?” I hate the way my voice trembles. I hope it’s from the awe of being around so much priceless art, as opposed to my being uncomfortable.

  Jayme takes a step away from me and turns to a line of oak cabinets on the other side of the room. Her movements are easy and casual in a way that speaks of a certain level of comfort that only heightens my unease. I shake my head.

  What is wrong with me?

  My warning bells are screeching now but I have no idea why. The room she led me to is maybe ten by ten. We hadn’t shut the door and no more than ten feet away there are at least a dozen people who would hear a struggle. Not to mention the fact that I am pretty sure I could take Jayme. People underestimate me because of my petite body. They frequently regret it.

  Jayme comes back with a pair of white gloves. Even before touching them, I can tell they’re silk. And not a cheap blend, these are the real deal.

  She hands me the pair and gestures to the case. “Go ahead.”

  My hands are shaking when I put them on. Even though I keep trying to tell myself otherwise, something is wrong here. Something is horribly wrong.

  I turn back to the case and try to keep my breath from sawing out of my chest. Jayme smiles politely as if she doesn’t notice but she must have noted my distress. In my mind, her easy grin takes on a wicked gleam but I try my best to keep my head on straight. My instincts have never been so off the charts but I am even more afraid that I might embarrass Harper.

  These people are important to him. They are rich and powerful in his world and I want to belong.

  I slide my hands over the glass case, freeing the heavy latch that holds it still. Once the top is opened, I realize why she has given me the gloves. The bottle in the center of the box is old. I have no idea how to tell how old it is but I get the feeling that it might fall apart if I touch it with my fingertips.

  I lean down to pick it up but my head swims. The breath I suck in this time is thick and I breathe sluggishly. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. “I need to go find Harper.”

  Jayme’s grin widens and I shift, trying to drop the bottle and face her. Only, my body doesn’t want to cooperate with me. The bottle falls back against the case and I’m vaguely concerned as I hear glass crack as if from a distance.

  Jayme tsks. “That’s a damn good forgery, Fallon. You just cost me a pretty penny.”

  I part my lips, trying to force sound out but nothing comes. When I try to take a step forward, it’s all I can do to keep from falling flat on my face. “What did you…” I bring my hands up, trying to smooth the hair from my face. The gloves.

  I reach up, trying to pull the gloves off my hands but Jayme stops me. “We can’t have that happening. I don’t think you’ve absorbed enough of the poison yet.”

  The word “poison” makes my entire body jerk. This is insane. I just met this woman, less than an hour ago. Why would she want to kill me? I don’t realize I’m shaking my head until she catches my chin with her fingers.

  “I’m sorry. I really was excited to meet you. But you had to open your mouth about that damn painting. You made a very wealthy buyer question my authentication.”

  My mouth opens and closes uselessly. It was a casual comment. Something I thought little of. How is that going to get me killed?

  “I see you’re confused. Well. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re famous, Fallon. In many circles. Your business sense and intuition make you something of a…Moby Dick to certain people. We’d just love to woo you over to our side so you could use your talents to make everyone around you very, very rich.”

  I snap my mouth shut at that. There are bright spots dancing in my vision but the way Jayme is speaking tells me that I need to stay conscious. I’m no criminal. She should know that, based on my past. I would do anything to keep my hands clean and she must know that.

  “Why…me?”

  Jayme laughs. It’s a cruel, grating sound that makes me want to throw up. “You took on the mainstream media without batting an eye. Someone with balls like that would flourish here. Not to mention how seamlessly you meld into the underground.”

  I suck in a breath and start shaking my head. My days as a Sugar Baby should have been confidential. Completely untraceable.

  “Oh, come now. Don’t be so shy. Your exploits are commendable.”

  Without another word she jerks me up and grabs for the bottle that I dropped before. She tsks again before uncorking it. I can hear some kind of liquid sloshing around in the base and my stomach bottoms out when she touches the rim to my mouth.

  “No!”

  I gasp the word, trying to fight her but it only helps her cause. With my mouth open, she pushes the liquid past my tongue. I don’t get a chance to spit it out because she knuckles my jaw closed with the bottle. “Swallow or I’ll add more poison to your gloves. You’ll be dead before Harper even knows what happened.”

  I hope she can see the hate in my eyes as I work my tongue to swallow. My stomach burns with the strange liquid but it doesn’t taste bad. In fact…I flush as I realize she’s giv
en me an aphrodisiac, one I used to use on my clients during my Sugar Baby days.

  The tingle that spreads through my body is the first sign that I’ve taken way too much. My skin burns as my blood vessels expand, pushing more hot blood to my pussy. I’m immediately soaked, caught in a horrible place between arousal and terror.

  I’ve felt this before. This complete, drugged helplessness.

  “Now, now. Don’t cry. Look, I’ve got something for you.”

  Jayme pulls me forward with an alarming amount of strength for a woman her size. I stumble but she catches me and pulls me deeper into the room. When I try to call out for help, she casually puts her hand over my mouth, silencing my cries.

  “We can’t have any of that now, can we? Just be a good girl and go along with me for a minute. I promise to make it worth your while.”

  Even if I had the strength to answer her, I wouldn’t. There’s nothing I can say right now that would convince her to leave me alone. To let me go. I seal my lips, pressing them together.

  “You remember Angelica, right? Of course you do, you only just met her.” Jayme laughs at her own stupid joke and I hope she can tell how badly I want to roll my eyes. “Well, my little angel just about begged me to let her take a crack at Harper. She’s quite irresistible, you know.”

  Bile rises up in my stomach. I understand why they would want to hurt me. I hate it, but I understand. These are people used to getting what they want and I am a valuable commodity.

  But the thought of anyone doing the same to Harper makes me sick. I can’t let them hurt him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  By the time Jayme gets me to the next room, my mind is working in sluggish jolts. After the fact, I realize that she had to walk me through a crowded hallway to get to this new location. Unfortunately, at the time my brain hadn’t been working well enough for me to register much.

  I vaguely remember her apologizing in hushed whispers, telling other patrons that I had had “a little too much wine.” I put a pin in that and forced my humiliation and anger into a fine point. I will worry about the damage she has just done to my reputation after Harper and I are safe and sound.

  If we get out of this in one piece.

  The severity of the situation isn’t lost on me. I am very much aware of the fact that I might be in mortal danger right now. But I can’t focus on that or else I’ll just be scared. I can’t think if I’m scared, so I force it away from my thoughts and focus on the here and now.

  “Where are you taking me?” I wince because my voice does sound drunk. I know enough to know that even though I haven’t touched a drop, that won’t mean much to some people.

  Jayme yanks me along, not bothering to answer my question. When we finally stop, I am sincerely hoping that when I throw up it lands right on her expensive shoes. “Take a look, Fallon.”

  I raise my head weakly and immediately jerk. I’m in a tiny room. It’s actually, more of a large closet than anything. There is one door and little to no light. The walls are blank, except for the one right in front of me. That is covered with a what I think at first is a huge mirror.

  “It gets better.” Jayme hisses as if she reads my thoughts. She presses a button and a light flashes behind the mirror-wall.

  It flares to life and I know instantly that it’s two-way glass. On the other side of the mirror is an ornate sitting room. The furnishings are expensive, the decorations are tasteful. But I ignore all of them.

  My entire being is focused on Harper.

  He’s standing in the middle of the room with his shirt off. The dusky expanse of his chest is bare for anyone to appreciate and that is exactly what Angelica is doing. She slithers up to him, stopping just short of touching him.

  “Are you sure you don’t need any help?” she says to him.

  Harper’s voice isn’t the least bit playful, making her fevered whisper seem out of place and strange. “I’m pretty sure you’ve helped enough. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell that you pretended to spill that?”

  A rush of dizziness hits me and I try harder to focus on what Harper is saying. I can see him clearly but my ears feel like someone has stuffed cotton in them. Everything is muffled and all that I can make out completely is the pounding of my own heart.

  Angelica reaches out to touch Harper’s skin. The world shifts and I am not sure if it’s because my heart is breaking or because of whatever Jayme drugged me with.

  Crack.

  The sound of skin connecting with skin in hard slaps jerks me out of the haze that has been blanketing my mind. At the same time, Jayme shoves me to the ground. She throws open the door to the little room in a furious rush and steps through it.

  Now’s my chance. I can get away. Even though I think the words, I can’t get my body to move. Nothing is working in my head. I turn back to Harper, hoping he will be able to somehow get to me.

  I black out again. I don’t know how long I am out but when I come to, Angelica is crumpled against the expensive carpet. She is holding both of her cheeks, which are marred with red handprints.

  “Come on, Harper. You can’t be serious about her. She’s a porn star.”

  Harper takes a menacing step forward and the door to the room bursts open. “Please, don’t!” Jayme’s red in the face and she has kicked her shoes off.

  The look on her face is sheer terror and that makes me happy.

  “Where is she?” Harper’s voice is cold and dangerous.

  I’m here. Harper, I’m here.

  * * * * *

  Harper wraps me in a blanket while I shiver. We’re outside the gallery, the blue lights of an ambulance flashing around us. I try not to pay attention to the crowd of people gathering behind the police tape because I’m sure someone has a cellphone out and is taking a ton of pictures.

  “Jayme and Angelica probably won’t be arrested, you know,” he says.

  I brush the hair out of my face and crowd a little closer to him. Sitting in the back of the ambulance with an IV hooked up to my arm isn’t exactly comfortable. “Of course they won’t. People like that would never see a jail cell.”

  Harper chuckles, kissing the top of my head. “Don’t say that. Look at Martha Stewart.”

  I shake my head, refusing to touch that with a ten-foot pole. There were more celebrities on my side of the argument but that would just launch me into something more.

  Harper runs his hands up and down my back as I try to sort out my feelings. A paramedic appears and whispers softly to Harper, who hands him a wad of cash. I raise my eyebrow but the paramedic ushers us inside and shuts the door, giving us a little privacy.

  “What was that?”

  Harper shrugs. “Just a little precaution to try to keep this as hush-hush as possible. I know you said you didn’t want to go to the hospital but they’re going to do a little work-up to make sure the drug is out of your system.”

  I bite my bottom lip. “What did she give me, anyway? Were they really going to kill me?”

  Harper’s face turns stormy and he pulls me tighter against him. “No. I’m sorry Jayme scared you like that. They drugged you but it wasn’t going to kill you. If I had to guess, they were going to publically shame you.”

  I grit my teeth to keep from saying what I think. I’ve worked hard clean up my reputation to the point where I can go into board meetings without worrying someone is undressing me with their eyes. Mine is a name that is well respected and feared.

  Anyone who tries to screw with that might as well be making an attempt on my life.

  “Did they tell you how long it would take to get out of my system?”

  “It should be a couple more hours. Why? Do you still feel weak?”

  I worry my bottom lip, knowing I’m peeling off my supposedly color-stay lipstick. “I’m still feeling the…blood flow issues.”

  That’s as far as I have to explain it before Harper takes a deep breath. I get the distinct feeling that he’s breathing in the scent of my arousal and the animalisti
c response only jacks up my interest another few notches. I swallow audibly and he tracks the movement with his eyes.

  “Fallon…”

  “I know,” I whisper into the super-charged air. “But what about just a kiss? Kiss me like you mean it, Harper. I need it.”

  For just a quick second, it’s as if Harper lets down his guard. He pulls me into his lap and I finally get warm enough to stop shaking. “Are you sure?” His cultured, lilting voice is rough with strain and arousal.

  I practically bounce on his lap and the blanket around my shoulders slides down to my waist. “Please. I’m sure.”

  His big, warm hand slides behind my head and down to my neck, holding me steady—or holding him steady, I can’t be sure. When his mouth touches mine, it’s all I can do not to whimper.

  He’s not so lucky.

  A groan of supreme male satisfaction slams into the air and attacks my eardrums. My toes curl at the sound, catching the blanket and twisting it around my bare feet.

  The movement grinds me against his crotch and his hard cock finds the perfect cleft in between my legs. When I move against him, he hisses as if I have burned him. “Don’t move.”

  I don’t get the chance to decide if I’m going to obey or not. He grabs hold of my hips with strong hands and pins me to his thighs so I can’t even rock against him. A mewl of displeasure climbs up my gut and into my throat but he silences it with an easy brush of his mouth against mine.

  “Just a taste, my opal. I can’t let us get too carried away.”

  I want him to get carried away. I want to shatter his control and make him want me as much as I want him. I don’t say that. Instead, I lean into him, letting him brush his mouth against mine.

  He tastes like expensive wine and good, clean man. My head spins as he fills my lungs and suddenly the horrors of the past couple of hours mean nothing. They never happened.

  With one kiss, he transports me back to the beach, where I realized I love him and would do anything to be with him. When he pulls away from me, I can see that he’s in the same place as me. He sees himself in my eyes and I see me in his. Just as it should always be.