Shattered

by Janet Nissenson

  Angela shuddered, forcing her thoughts back to the present, and bolted down the rest of her drink quickly. As she shifted slightly on the padded leather barstool, she realized her panties were now soaking wet – the mere recollection of what Nick had once done to her in this place more than enough to arouse her. Gingerly she eased herself off the stool, catching Lauren’s eye and mouthing that she was headed off to the ladies room.

  Lauren frowned as she mouthed back, “Hurry it up. Time to move on to the next place soon.”

  Angela sighed as she made her way to the restroom, for she should have guessed that a sleek, classy place like Orphus wouldn’t have been happening enough for Lauren. It had been a stupid decision on her part to suggest this place, particularly when it was chock full of memories she had no business recalling.

  She made quick work of her visit to the ladies room, but the hairs at the nape of her neck prickled with awareness again as she walked down the long, darkened corridor on her way back to the bar area. She was just about to the end of the corridor when a slow, lazy drawl – an achingly and annoyingly familiar drawl – stopped her dead in her tracks.

  “Funny you should have worn that particular dress tonight. Were you by any chance remembering what happened the last time you wore it? And in the very same bar, too. Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

  Telling herself that it couldn’t possibly be him – that she’d had more to drink tonight than she’d thought and was starting to hear things – Angela turned around slowly, disbelievingly, and found herself staring into Nick’s dark, wicked eyes.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” she muttered in revulsion. “Please tell me that I just can’t hold my liquor anymore and that you’re a really bad figment of my imagination.”

  Nick chuckled and shook his head. “’Fraid not, Angel.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, jerking her flush against his big, hard body before she could protest or resist. And with the ridiculously high heels she’d stupidly chosen to wear tonight, escaping him wasn’t going to be easy.

  “But,” he added sternly,” the mere fact that you think you’ve had that much to drink doesn’t please me one bit. I know you’re here for your friend’s bachelorette party, Angel, but that doesn’t give you automatic leeway to get plastered. How much have you had to drink anyway?”

  She was so furious that she was almost shaking in her stilettos. “You don’t seriously think I’m going to answer that question, do you?” she retorted scathingly. “Or that you’ve got any right at all to ask it?”

  Nick smiled, but it was one of those icy cold smiles he gave when something displeased him mightily. “Oh, I’ve got every right in the world, Angel,” he replied harshly. “And once you stop playing these pointless little games with me, you’ll realize just how many rights I still have over you.”

  She gave him a futile shove with her free hand. “You’ve got no rights over me at all. Not-a-single-one.” She enunciated each word with careful precision. “And this really annoying tendency you have of showing up in places where I happen to be – if it keeps happening, Nick, I’m going to file a restraining order against you.”

  He gave a shout of laughter. “Oh, that would be a good one, Angel! Speaking of which, I can just see the reaction on some judge’s face when I talk about all the different ways you used to love being restrained – scarves, cords, cuffs. The cuffs were your favorites as I recall. Tell me – did you keep all that stuff? Though I honestly can’t see Dwayne being the sort who’d get much of a kick out of -”

  As a group of giggling, half-drunk, forty-something’s – all wearing far too much makeup and far too little fabric – stumbled past on the way to the ladies room, Angela placed her free hand over Nick’s mouth, her gaze furious while he was wildly amused. And, in spite of how angry she was at this particular moment, she didn’t miss the way the drunken pack of cougars were checking Nick out very thoroughly, and for some reason that really, really pissed her off.

  When the women – who were all wearing dresses far more suited to someone half their age – had tottered noisily into the restroom, Nick took her firmly by the arm and began steering her back towards the bar. But instead of escorting her over to where Lauren and the others were waiting, he continued to walk her towards a back corner of the room – towards a secluded corner she was all too well acquainted with.

  “Stop right here.”

  She latched onto a corner of the bar and held on for dear life, refusing to take one more step. Nick attempted to drag her along in his wake, only to frown at her when she wouldn’t budge.

  “We have things to discuss, Angel,” he informed her in that haughty, know-it-all tone she’d come to resent and despise. “Private things. When I saw you here a few minutes ago I had Eddie clear out our favorite table so that we could have a drink together. Though I’m seriously considering changing your order from vodka to coffee.”

  If she hadn’t been afraid of making a scene, especially when the ten other women in her party were little more than a stone’s throw away, Angela would have gladly spit in his face. Instead, she just stared at him in stunned disbelief.

  “You know, the more nonsense I hear you spout these days, the more I’m convinced you’re having a full mental breakdown,” she told him. “Even if I wasn’t here for my best friend’s party, there’s no way on earth I’d consent to sit at that – that table with you ever again.”

  Nick stepped in close, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against his body. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized he was aroused again, and making very sure that she was very aware of that fact. She struggled not to notice how good he smelled, that all-too-familiar scent she’d always loved so much. Unable to bear the burning intensity of his gaze, she glanced downwards, focusing instead on the strong, tanned column of his throat. He was wearing all black, typical for those occasions when he didn’t wear a suit, and was simply but suavely attired in an open-necked shirt and tailored trousers. And, she thought weakly, he looked even better than he smelled. Or felt.

  “What’s the matter, Angel?” he whispered suggestively in her ear, making sure none of the other patrons gathered around the crowded bar could hear him. “Afraid that one or both of us will wind up underneath the table if we sit there? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

  Angela felt the sweat begin to trickle down between her breasts, at the same time that other bodily fluids began to dampen her thighs – again. His wickedly taunting words forced her to recall erotic images she hadn’t permitted herself to think about for years – that of Nick discreetly sliding down beneath the table, his big body barely concealed by the tablecloth as he spread her legs wide and buried his face in her soaking wet pussy. Or of other times when she was the one kneeling beneath the table, unzipping his fly and taking him between her lips.

  “That’s never going to happen again,” she told him faintly, willing herself not to whimper as she realized how hard her nipples were. “Whether it’s here or any other place. You blew whatever chance you had with me four years ago, Nick, and I don’t know how else to get the point across that I’m not interested in being your slave again.”

  He nuzzled the side of her neck, his tongue tracing an arousing little circle around her ear. “And I told you it wouldn’t be like that again. We’d sit down, talk about this calmly, compromise.”

  She couldn’t suppress the shiver that rippled up and down her spine as his fingers traced along her bare arm and shoulder. Desperately fighting not to lose herself to his seductive mastery again, she heard herself asking him in a voice that barely sounded like her own, “Okay, let’s start compromising right now. Come with me and I’ll introduce you to my friends. You’ve heard me mention the twins often enough. It’s about time you met them, don’t you think?”

  Nick froze, his lips still pressed to her throat but his hand stilled on her shoulder. He slowly took a step or two away from her, his mouth turning up at one corner in an unwilli
ng smile.

  “You’ve made your point, Angel,” he conceded. “For now.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Figures. You talk about wanting to make compromises, that things will be different. So far, though, sounds like the same old Nick to me. The one I’ve got no intention of taking up with ever again.”

  “Well, we’ll see, won’t we? Obviously this isn’t the right time or place but make no mistake, Angel – there will be a right one and very, very soon.”

  “Humph.” She gave a little shake of her head. “And you still haven’t told me how you just happened to be here tonight – once again, very coincidentally where I happen to be.”

  Nick smiled mysteriously. “Or we could look at it from a different angle. Why are you here at a place you know very well I patronize frequently? Maybe you’re the one stalking me, Angel.”

  “Seriously?” She gaped at him, appalled by his arrogance. “I’ll have you know this is one of several places we’re hitting up tonight and almost all of them are located within a mile of each other. And that’s another thing – how did you know I was here for a bachelorette party?”

  “That’s easy.” He nodded across the bar to where the other women were still gathered. “That sexy little thing in the coral dress – the twin I assume is Julia – is wearing some ridiculous sash tied around her that reads “Bride to Be”.”

  “Oh.” Angela had forgotten about the silly party gift one of Julia’s co-workers had insisted she wear, despite Lauren’s caustic remark that it made her sister look like a pageant queen. “Lucky for you she’s still wearing that stupid thing. Lauren’s threatened to cut it off of her about five times already.”

  Nick’s gaze narrowed in irritation. “Don’t tell me, let me guess – with that switchblade she likes to cart around. Where is the bloodthirsty little wench anyway?”

  It only took her a moment to locate her best friend, but then it usually wasn’t hard to locate Lauren – even in a crowd.

  “The one in the jeans and tank top. With six empty shot glasses in front of her.”

  Nick chuckled. “That’s Lauren? The ballsy chick you’ve told me about? The one Dwayne said is scary? Jesus, I could pick her up with one hand.”

  Angela gave him a falsely sweet smile. “And she’d used the opportunity to stab you in the other one. Excuse me, but I need to get back to my friends now. And if you just happen to coincidentally show up at any of our other stops this evening, I’ll definitely call the cops and tell them you’re a psycho stalker.”

  Nick’s chuckle morphed into full-fledged laughter as she walked away briskly, and if Lauren hadn’t caught her eye at that precise moment, Angela wouldn’t have hesitated to turn and flip him off.

  ***

  The unexpected encounter with Nick, however, ruined the rest of the evening for Angela, despite her best efforts to put on a brave face for Julia. She brushed Lauren off every time her friend demanded to know what the hell was wrong, and wound up drinking a lot more than she’d originally planned on doing – an action that only made things worse. Angela wasn’t a happy drunk – like Julia’s co-worker Courtney who was currently being the life of the party. Neither was she a sloppy drunk like Julia’s friend Jada, who was weaving around and looked like she was going to toss her cookies any minute now. And she wasn’t a mean drunk, either, like Lauren could be sometimes when she’d had a whole lot to drink and was in a bad mood to boot.

  No, Angela was just a plain old depressed drunk, the sort who got quieter and more withdrawn the more she drank. And that was precisely what happened as the evening wore on, as she rather morosely followed the others from bar to bar.

  Except, of course, when Lauren got involved in a bar fight and Angela felt the need to jump in and help her out. She’d watched the scene unfold, had sighed while predicting what would happen next. A guy – good-looking, well-built, well-dressed – had been flirting rather outrageously with Lauren and Angela had rolled her eyes when she’d observed how her friend was deliberately toying with him.

  And then the guy had done the unthinkable and put his hand on Lauren’s ass. But it was whatever he’d whispered in her ear after that when she’d erupted – landing a roundhouse kick solidly in the guy’s gut, causing him to stumble and crash into some nearby tables, which in turn caused the disrupted patrons to yell and scream. Meanwhile, the guy’s companions rushed over to join in the fray, and Angela found herself hurrying over to defend Lauren by tossing her drink into someone’s face.

  And when Jada really screwed things up by puking all over the bouncer’s shoes, well, that was when the group of “ladies” was promptly ordered to vacate the premises and they all moved on to the next bar.

  By the time the limo arrived to take everyone home at the end of the evening, Angela was more than ready for the party to be over. As each of Julia’s guests was dropped off at their place of residence, Angela shrank further into the corner seat she’d appropriated, uncommunicative and lost in thought. She was very reluctantly pried from her corner, however, when it was Courtney’s turn to be dropped off, since Julia’s hipster co-worker had passed out cold. It took Angela plus three others to drag the tall, gangly girl up to her apartment and deposit her on her bed.

  As soon as she was back inside the limo, she retreated to her little corner and stared out the window without really seeing anything. The encounter with Nick had shook her up more than she’d initially realized, more than she was willing to admit, and she began to tremble in delayed reaction.

  She closed her eyes, pressing her flushed cheek against the cool glass of the window, and willed herself to calm down. Because, despite her brave, defiant words to the contrary, she knew deep down that letting Nick back into her life was exactly what she craved more than anything. It was, after all, what she’d dreamed of for years, the dream that had given her hope, kept her going for so long. But now that the dream could very easily become reality, she was terrified to let it happen. She didn’t believe for a minute that Nick could really change, could ever willingly compromise on anything. And she was afraid, so afraid, that she’d wind up not caring about any of that and fall back under his control the next time he snapped his fingers.

  The second to the last stop of the night was to let Julia’s friend Tessa off at her boyfriend’s palatial Pacific Heights mansion, and Angela found herself whistling along with Lauren as the limo pulled up to the curb.

  “Hot damn girl, you really landed yourself a winner,” said Lauren in admiration as she patted Tessa on the arm. “Hold on to that man for sure. Better yet,” she added with a wink, “use those handcuffs Jules put in everyone’s goody bag and chain him to your bed.”

  Julia had spent weeks assembling the pretty pink, white, and black striped party bags, filling them up with all sorts of girly little trinkets. Angela had been commandeered into helping her put them together last week and recalled that a few of the items included semi-naughty gifts like a silk blindfold, a bottle of massage oil, and a pair of flimsy, fluffy pink handcuffs.

  The shy, pretty Tessa blushed furiously at Lauren’s bawdy suggestion and could only stammer a rather flustered good night as she exited the limo. Lauren was chuckling wickedly as they pulled away.

  “Did you see the look on her face when I mentioned chaining her man to the bed? And when I made a little joke earlier tonight about Ian tying her up, she had the exact same reaction. Trust me,” she nodded with confidence, “those two get up to some kinky shit every so often.”

  Julia eyed her twin with a scowl. “Honestly, Lauren? I mean, you’ve met Ian. He’s the most conservative, proper English gentleman you’ll ever want to meet, while Tessa blushes at the drop of a hat.”

  Lauren shrugged. “Everybody’s got a bit of a dark side, sis. Even those two. Trust me, I’ll betcha Ian trusses her up in not only the handcuffs but the blindfold and the thong, too.”

  “Except those particular cuffs are really just for show. They aren’t meant for BDSM play,” murmured Angela quietly. “Way too flimsy.”


  The moment the words left her mouth she would have done anything to take them back, especially when she saw the way Julia and Lauren were staring at her in stunned silence. She hadn’t meant to say something like that, was now kicking herself mentally for having blurted it out, and knew Lauren at least wouldn’t let it alone for hours now.

  Lauren found her voice first. “Uh, would you be speaking from experience there, Angie? Or have you just been watching too much porn?”

  Angela gave Lauren a playful shove. “I haven’t watched porn since our senior year of high school at Erica Lyman’s house. Now her parents were really into some kinky shit.”

  Julia shuddered as she recalled the sordid tales Lauren had whispered to her about the various DVD’s and sex toys Erica’s parents had tried – most unsuccessfully – to hide from their daughter and her very inquisitive friends. “Okay, already feeling a little queasy over here. Let’s not talk about Mr. and Mrs. Lyman’s, uh, quirks tonight.”

  Lauren kept her gaze steadily focused on Angela. “Fine. But I still want Angie to answer the questions about the handcuffs.”

  Angela’s dark eyes glittered dangerously. “Tough. Not going to happen. In fact, just forget I said anything.”

  “Oh, like hell I will,” laughed Lauren. “You know me, girlfriend. I’ll keep at you like a dog with a bone until you answer me. Was it seeing that big hunk of studly goodness tonight that finally loosened your tongue?”

  Angela gasped, her eyes widening in alarm as both she and Julia stared at Lauren, who was looking way too smug for anyone’s liking.

  “I, um, don’t know what you’re talking about,” Angela replied defiantly.