by Layla Arts
I respected her privacy, but it was taking forever. As I paced back and forth, I began to get annoyed with how much time was passing. I knew Andrea needed to work faultlessly to come up with the best product, but I was curious if there was more going on in there than I thought. I placed one hand in my pocket, and I knocked harshly on the door with my right.
“Are you two done?” I questioned, ugh – that sounded so wrong. “I'd like to use my office again,” I added, making it sound less sexual. I knew Andrea and Miranda would hardly do something like that in my office, and now I was just overthinking everything. I tapped my foot impatiently on the ground.
The door creaked open, and Andrea stood there. “Sorry, Mr. Smith,” she muttered, seemingly the only thing she knew how to say in English. I gave her a sympathetic look and walked passed her through the open door. Miranda has fully dressed again, and she added a layer of lipstick on her puckered lips before she gathered her belongings. I looked at my phone to see if I had missed a text from Vicky, but there were none. I decided to text Vicky to kill some time.
Hadrian: “You are online, are you home?”
Vicky: “Yes. Why?”
Hadrian: “Can I come around?”
Vicky: “You've got two hours before I need to be at V's Café.”
“Hadrian, the new make-up supplies have arrived,” Marcel stated upon entering my office, and I rolled my eyes out of annoyance. This wasn’t a good time. “Where do you want me to place the new stock?” he questioned me eagerly.
“In the dressing room.” I waved him off.
“Okay, okay,” he muttered.
I watched him as he made his way out.
“So I can start tomorrow?” Miranda seemingly appeared out of nowhere – I thought she had left.
“Absolutely,” I informed her instantly. “Since you were an understudy before you became a part of the main group, I want to guide you through the whole building tomorrow. You have only seen the practice area a couple of times, but you were never allowed to go into the dressing room. I'll make sure you get a station there, it’ll probably just be Keeton’s old station, but it works.”
“I am so excited! Thank you, Mr. Smith,” Miranda spoke adoringly.
“Call me Hadrian.” I waved her off.
***
I was in my Bentley heading towards Vicky’s, the traffic was horrendous, and it seemed as if I was never going to get there. I tapped my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel; the music was blaring to drown out the sounds of fucked up drivers in LA. I started to sing loudly along to the music; I had it on shuffle, and I was enjoying my music choices. When the song was done, Beautiful Soul started to play at a deafening volume.
“Fuck you, Jesse McCartney.” I hissed, but I decided to keep the song on.
I could skip to the next song, and hear an untalented rapper do his thing, or I could enjoy myself for a good three minutes while listening to his lyrics.
I had chosen the latter, and I actually regret nothing.
The traffic was moving better, and I was able to drive a bit faster. I rolled down my window after a while, I needed fresh air.
Some elderly people were staring – bewildered – at me when they stood next to my car. I just gave them a look of disdain, and they moved along. Not that I cared. If they didn’t understand that a grown man could listen to another man sing about his feelings, then that was their problem. I considered it gender support.
I finally arrived at Vicky's apartment. I didn't understand why she even lived here. It was so small, but – unfortunately – she couldn't afford something bigger. I parked my car safely in front of the main entrance, and I walked over to the lift – I was too lazy to take the stairs. The doors chimed open, and I walked over to her door. My knuckles made a rapping sound as they came in contact with the wood of her door.
The door creaked open, and Vicky appeared in front of me. She looked so good, damn it. She was wearing a yellow dress, the hem short enough that it fell mid-thigh. Her legs were so exposed, and she wasn't wearing heels, so she was almost a whole foot shorter than me.
“How is my tiger doing?” I asked her seductively.
“You did not just say that, did you?” Vicky asked me while she cocked her head to one side, her face set in a lock of mock-horror.
“I could also say something different,” I suggested her.
“Do I want to know it?” she questioned me with a raised eyebrow. I sneered silently. I didn't know if she would laugh at what I would say, it was Vicky, and she was so unpredictable. “I think it is atrocious what you have in mind,” she said before I could speak my mind – cutting me off before I got the chance to start.
I cleared my throat, and I stepped inside of Vicky's apartment. I pressed myself against Vicky as I pushed my way in, but when I turned around, she had taken a couple steps back. I stalked her actions, and I smirked when I got closer to her. I moved my face down to hers, my breath fanning out on her face.
“How is my favorite pussy doing?” I whispered temptingly against her lip.
I forced Vicky to lean her head back. Her mouth fell open, and a moan came out of her mouth uncontrollably. I slipped my tongue inside of her mouth and came in contact with hers. The tension was unbearable between us. Her arms wrapped tightly around my neck, and she pressed me harder against her mouth. My hands slid down to cup her ass, and I squeezed it conspicuously.
“Smooth arse you are,” Vicky said against my lips, and I smirked cutely so she could see my dimples. She was so hot when she cursed, that was an automatic turn on. She had something that I wanted to experience over and over again, and I wasn't going to regret something I did to her. I kissed her lips for a long time, before letting her plump lips go again.
I took Vicky's leather jacket from the coat hanger, and she looked at me in confusion. I handed her the piece of clothing, and she looked at me still with the same facial expression.
“Put it on,” I instructed her, and she did what I said. “I have been thinking about doing something extraordinary for you,”
“I am flattered,” Vicky said as she held my hand. “What is it?” she questioned.
“You'll find out if you come with me,” I said. I grabbed a bandana out of my pocket, and I placed it over her eyes. I heard her huff in frustration, but I wanted to do something with her. Levi had brought me on the greatest idea, and I was giving her what she wanted. Vicky was reaching out her hands, since she couldn't see a damn thing. It was a pretty funny sight to see someone so vulnerable.
“If you are going to let me fall, Hadrian, you won't be walking for the rest of your life.”
“I will look out for once,” I assured her nicely, but I couldn't guarantee her that she wouldn't hit a stone and fall down. However, me being the absolute gentleman I was, I would make sure she wouldn't hurt her pretty face. I needed that face for very productive things. “I am careful, darling.”
Leading Vicky to the car wasn't that bad. I opened the passenger side, and I placed her inside. I shut the door and ran to my side. I started the engine, and I quickly began to play a different playlist than my previous one. Vicky stared passionlessly in front of her. There wasn't a movement in her hands, neither in her face. Her lips were placed lazily on each other.
I drove away from her apartment, and the road was still full of vehicles. I was getting really annoyed with this. I wanted to ram into the slow ass fucking cars that were making us sluggish. A Range Rover was in front of me, and ramming my Bentley into the back of that piece of shit wasn’t worth it. If we wanted to create a car accident, then we needed one in style.
“How was your day at work?” Vicky asked me.
“Lame, like those days when you aren't there.”
“Are we trying to be sentimental again?” she questioned me mockingly.
“Maybe.”
“It isn't working, though.” She chuckled.
I reached out my finger, and I poked into her side. She flinched, and she placed her hand on her chest
. She was probably shocked by my sudden touching. I laughed at her reaction while we were at a stand-still in the car.
“I might be blind, but I do feel things,” Vicky responded through my physical action.
Without a single warning, I felt Vicky moving her hand to my trouser. I held my breath when I saw her fingertips trying to open up my belt, and because she was familiar with my leather belt, she easily opened it. She unbuttoned my pants, and she held the zipper to pull it down.
While we were sitting in this traffic jam, Vicky was getting into my pants. I wasn't protesting, since she hadn't made me feel like this. But it was a very rare location to get a hand job from a woman. I bit my bottom lip out of lust. I wanted to let her do what she wanted very much. I took my RayBans, and I placed it in front of my eyes. People were luckily not able to see my eyes.
I turned the music a bit louder when Vicky was pulling my boxers down a bit.
I had made Vicky feel dutiful plenty of times, but she had never done something to me. However, I wasn't holding her back. Having her stroke my manhood was brilliantly errorless. Her hand was wrapped around my length, and she started to move persistently. Euphoria was already transuding through my whole body. She was so incredible that it was almost dehumanized.
“Fucking hell.” I breathed out coarsely. She moved her hand in a great rhythm. My hands were gripping the steering wheel powerfully. The aspiration was taking over me every time she touched me. I moaned whenever Vicky was stroking again. This feeling was inexpressible, and I loved everything about it.
“Baby,” I spoke hoarsely.
“Sshh,” Vicky muttered back.
It was the first time Vicky gave me an incomparable hand job. She had done this copiousness times, but that didn’t really matter at all. The feeling she delivered me was dumbfounding enough. Her thumb was touching my head naughtily. I bit my bottom lip unceasingly when she did this to me. I was aware of the deafening noises I was making from time to time. I knew I was going to explode, and that liquid body substance was going to appear in a flash.
I was coming quicker to my high when she was doing this to me. It was probably because of me that it was getting warmer inside of my car. It was fantastic to be treated so special by her. I really liked Vicky, and it wasn't just because of this – it was about everything she did to me. She could be so rude in a playful way, but immediately just made me come in a car.
She kept moving her hand up and down, and I was beyond doubt staggered by her abilities. My flesh was being touched by her sensitive tiny hands which were enough for my phallus. My eyes landed on her hands sometimes, and it made me feel so turned on. This was uncontrolled.
I wanted to put my seat down so that I would be laying. But the problem was we were in a traffic jam, and it would be recognizable. Heavy breaths were falling down my lips as I sat here enjoying her hand work. It felt like I was holding the steering wheel so tight that I almost could scream out of pleasure.
“Pull my boxer up, babe,” I instructed her hastily.
Vicky pulled her hand out of my boxer, and I released. My cheeks were burning red, and I felt sweat dripping down my back. It was absolutely mind-blowing how this girl could work with her hand. I tried to control my breathing here in the car. My chest was rising and falling down, because of the amount of fresh oxygen I missed. I rolled the window down and turned the music softer.
“Was it good?” Vicky asked me bluntly.
I reached my hand out to her thigh and gave it a firm squeeze. “Fuck, yes, Vicks.”
I didn't know how she could make me feel so many emotions in a short time, but it was the best I had ever felt. Every day I was longing for her, just everything that came along with Vicky herself.
I maybe wasn't in love, but I had never said I couldn't come to the point where I would be falling head over heels for her. And I was definitely sure that if we kept spending time together, we would eventually come to the point where we would be starting to declare our love for each other.
We reached my house, and I demanded her still to keep the bandana in front of her eyes. I held Vicky's shoulders when we walked through my house. I remembered William’s presence when we walked through the living room, and I pushed that man immediately out of my mind. He wasn't worth to take over my thoughts, not even now when I was Vicky.
“Can I take this thing off?” she blurted out frustratingly.
“Wait, love.” I said.
I stopped walking, and I pressed my lips firmly on her neck. A soft whimper left her mouth at my intimate touch. I got her bandana off and stuffed it into my pocket. Vicky's mouth dropped as she realized where we were together. A grin appeared on my face, and I cleared my throat.
“Let's play some tennis,” I said when I smacked her bum, and I walked to my half of the court.
20
Vicky West
Even though I enjoyed playing tennis with Hadrian, I absolutely sucked at it. There was not a chance in hell that I could have won against that bastard – who contended that he was the maestro of tennis.
I did concede that he had done a remarkable and awe-inspiring job by hammering me, which was probably not the polite thing to do. But he kept bragging about how great and proficient he was, and that if he didn't own the Empire, he would have been the best tennis player in the world. I couldn't guarantee him that, but if it were what he wanted to hear, I would oblige.
I walked around his house after I had taken a shower. There were just thirty minutes to kill before I was required to be at the Café and work my ass off.
There wasn't a bone in my body that was delighted with the thought of serving ungrateful people. I loved to work for people and make them feel contented with the things I did, but it was not something I was looking forward to today. However, the nice thought of seeing Hadrian tomorrow at the Empire was thoroughly satisfying.
“The world's #1 tennis player doesn't have the skill I do.” Hadrian bragged in a self-assured way. He was resting on his settee, one limb on the other. I was brushing my unruly hair while I glared at him sitting there on his over-the-top, ridiculously-expensive couch.
“Because his skill is better, Hadrian,” I stated, followed by boisterous laughter. Hadrian rolled his eyes and shook his head at my remark. He clearly wasn't impressed with my comment, but I was.
“Let's just make-out for ten minutes, yeah?” Hadrian blurted out when my laughter ceased.
I turned my body around, leaned my back against his black-slate countertop, and gave him an are you serious look. It was very straightforward, but it sounded as if he was asking if I had brown eyes instead of to make-out. I could never understand where Hadrian was coming from; he was a mystery to me.
“Where did that come from?” I asked Hadrian, disapproval evident in my tone.
“You just laughed at my mad skills, Vicks.” Hadrian disregarded. “And I need to bring you to work really fucking soon, so I need you to console me.” He added nonchalantly.
“Console you?” I questioned with a mocking frown. Hadrian pouted exaggeratedly, so I paced over to the couch where he sat. A boyish grin broke out on his face – dimples showing – and he opened his arms for me. His smile reflected on my face when I saw him sitting there – so endearing – on the couch.
I took a seat on Hadrian's lap, and I could feel his large hands rest on my lower back. I pressed my pelvis against his, and I looked down at his face. I heard faint breaths tumbling from his heart-shaped lips, and I looked at them in reverence.
It amazed me that something as pretentious as his lips could drive me crazy, but mesmerize me at the same time. I felt him move his hands under my dress, and make his way up. It didn't bother me that I was sitting vulnerably on his lap. He was slowly stroking my lower back with his digits.
It didn't take long for me to crash my lips – enthusiastically – to his. Hadrian opened his mouth, and I slipped my tongue inside. Our tongues collided, electricity flowing between our combined bodies. The overwhelming sensation of his tong
ue was exhilarating, and I cupped Hadrian's face as I kissed him deeper.
I felt his rough stubble brush against the soft skin of my face, it was hot, and I wouldn't have minded if he decided to grow it out. This was the most comfortable and relaxed position we'd ever been in; neither of us was trying for anything more, we were just making out.
Hadrian squeezed my hips occasionally, a soft moan came out of my mouth to show him the gratification he brought to me just by putting his hands on me. The way Hadrian kissed me, so prudishly, was outstandingly demoralizing. He knew how to make me feel alive by allowing me to feel the little things. I never got world-weary when I was with Hadrian, and I hoped he felt the same way about me.
“Hadrian,” I breathed against his lips when I stopped making out. “You have to take me to the café,” I proclaimed earnestly. I grabbed Hadrian's wandering hands, and I pulled them away from my skin. He whined like the child he was, and I yearned to stay here with him – like this.
“Why can't you just quit at the café? You've got a job at the Empire.”
His question brought all of my worries to the forefront of my mind. I wish I could quit working there, but I was barely making ends meet as it was. If I quit then it was goodbye Los Angeles and hello Texas.
As long as I could make it work here, I would. I didn't get paid nearly enough to work as diligently as I do at V's, but it paid the bills. I had a job where I got paid, that was money that wouldn't be there if I were to quit.
“Because some people don't have money coming out of their ass,” I stated. “I can't afford to not work there. The Empire helps a lot, but it's not sufficient. I don't want to ask my parents to support me. This is my dream and my life. If I can't do it myself, then I feel useless,” I said in a dissatisfactory manner of speaking. I wanted to do this myself.