Myka and the Millionaire

by Alexis Alvarez

  “Oh, me too. I guess I meant, you know, all of it?”

  There was a silence, then he pulled back before asking, “All of it?”

  “I guess, apart from sex.”

  “It’s good, Myka. We have fun together, yes?”

  Myka felt tears at her eyes. “Yes, we do. Good night, Gabriel.” She rolled over and pulled up the comforter, willing herself to drop back into the swirling joy from a few minutes ago.

  Gabriel reached over. “Are you upset about what happened tonight?”

  “No, I think I’m just pretty tired. I’m fine.”

  Gabriel nodded. “About this night. Please. I need you, in the future, to tell me if it gets too much, yes?” His eyes glittered in the dark, and his face was serious, almost pleading.

  Myka looked away. “Yes, of course. Tonight was wonderful.” The last part had been, at least. And as always, the real problem in her mind was not the too much, but the not enough.

  “Was it?” His tone was hard to read. “Did I make it up to you well enough after—the first scene? I wanted to make it good for you.”

  Myka readjusted the blanket. “What we just did was fantastic. That, I’d do again, for sure.”

  “All right. Bon nuit.” Gabriel yawned and was still, and then his body got heavy next to hers, letting Myka know that he’d drifted off. She rolled back and ran one hand over his chest. He sighed in his sleep and patted her hand with his, mumbled something in French. She liked how he reverted to French in his dreams; wondered if she was in them.

  She was half asleep, and still incredibly tipsy, swirling with the champagne, and she couldn’t resist: she got up on one elbow to watch his face, blinking to keep her eyes from shutting. In the dark he looked peaceful, and she touched his lower lip. “I love you,” she whispered, feeling the drowsiness overtake her, then felt momentary panic as his eyelids fluttered.

  He spoke with his eyes still closed. “Je t’aime à la folie, Myka, ma chèrie.”

  Myka put her hand to her mouth. She knew that je t’aime meant ‘I love you.’ Her eyes filled with tears of joy. It felt like the world was opening up before her, spreading forth its treasures for her to seize.

  He loved her. Finally, he admitted it! She knew it wasn’t going to be an easy transition for him, going from sex master to boyfriend and lover, especially if he had some kind of weird, mixed-up something going on with Rachel, and didn’t think he could fall in love again with someone new. And thinking about him having something with Rachel twisted a knife in her heart.

  But if they had love, Myka and Gabriel? They could make anything work. She was sure of it. “I love you so much!” she whispered, laying her head on his chest. His heart was beating faster now.

  He stroked her hair, his eyes still closed, but he rolled over and planted a kiss on her hair at the side of her head, and spoke into her neck, “Tu me coupes le soufflé. Tu es l’air dont je respire.”

  “What does it mean?” Her voice was shaky.

  “You take my breath away, and then you’re my air when I breathe again.” He looked at her now, his gaze sleepy but intense.

  “Really? I do? I am?” She felt dizzy with joy, with disbelief.

  He hugged her. “Yes.” He wiped his eye, and Myka thought she saw moisture.

  Myka snuggled closer, ran her hand over his strong jaw. “Now you’re the poet.” She thought her breath was coming hard and fast in her excitement, but she was still half-asleep and half-drunk, and everything was surreal, like all the lights of Las Vegas swirling through a dark sky in front of her, with Gabriel’s eyes the brightest, most beautiful lights of all.

  He smiled. “We match. You with the jewels in the night, remember? You’re the real poet. I’m trying to keep up. Please, give me some time to catch up. I want to do better for you. It’s just—difficult. There are things—”

  Myka touched his lip again. “We have to figure out how to do this. How to change things.”

  He sighed and gave her a kiss on the neck. “Ça va aller. Ne te inquiétes pas. We’ll talk in the morning, yes?”

  Then he rolled back over, and holding her hand in his, fell back into his deeper sleep. Next to him, Myka thrilled. She wanted to wake him back up, to talk more about it, but she was drifting off too, into dizzy inebriated oblivion. As she fell into dreams, her last thoughts were happy ones.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When she awoke the next morning, full of joy and excitement, Gabriel was gone. She read the brief note on the kitchen table, anchored under one of the soft green apples:

  Had to go in for a critical meeting. You can have breakfast and lunch here. Don’t forget we have plans to attend the club later. Gabriel.

  She crumpled the paper in her hand. Had she dreamed the words last night? No, right? It was no dream. She told Gabriel that she loved him, and he said he loved her, too! What changed between then and now?

  She shook her head, wincing at the throbbing in her temples and the fuzz in her mouth. She’d definitely had waaay too much champagne; after that difficult spanking, it surely had not been the best idea.

  Speaking of that spanking, she touched her ass and flinched. As she’d expected: Sore. Bruised. The next two or three days were going to freaking suck, with all the sitting in front of a computer she had to do. But on the bright side, now that they had admitted love, surely it would be fine to dial back on the intensity of their play, right? She could admit she wanted it softer and be one hundred percent sure that there were no repercussions?

  He’d said I love you, so it would all be okay. Except… that note was so cold. So formal. Well, not everyone could let romance leak from their pen like lost ink. Sure, he had to work, but they would talk later.

  But later on she received a disturbing text from him.

  I want to see you kneeling when I get back to the house, with the crop at your side. Wear your sheer white negligee and g-string.

  When Gabriel got back, she was waiting in the foyer, dressed as ordered, kneeling, the crop beside her. She hoped that seeing her like this would nudge him right back into his softness from last night. She remembered from their initial hookup how he liked to wait; what he sometimes said about delayed gratification. Was he treating this the same way?

  He strode past her, jacket on his arm, handsome in his suit, and put his laptop and keys on the counter with a pile of mail. “Stay there,” he told her unceremoniously, and then Myka heard him doing other things around the house, getting a drink, probably charging his phone. It was a long twenty minutes and her knees ached before he returned and stood in front of her. “Were you good today?” he asked her, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes. He wasn’t smiling.

  “Yes, sir,” said Myka, trying to be sultry. He didn’t respond to it; simply replied, “Good. Get up.”

  Myka massaged her knees and shook feeling back into her feet. “Ow, that was rough,” she commented, looking to him for approval, sympathy, anything.

  He didn’t answer. He looked past her and spoke. “We’re going to the club.”

  “But we need to talk, Gabriel. About what we said to each other. About last night—”

  “Not now,” he demanded. “Be obedient. A good sub.”

  “Yes, sir.” Myka’s voice was small. She was dying inside. It was like seeing a gorgeous wrapped present with her name on it, and now the present was being held hostage, and she didn’t know what she had to do to earn it back.

  “Would you like to eat anything before we leave?” he asked, his tone formal.

  “No, I’m fine.” Myka examined his expression, but he turned his head.

  “Then let’s go.”

  “Like… this?” Myka was uncertain. She gestured at the negligee.

  “Yes. Are you planning to argue about it?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “No. I’m ready.” Myka picked up her small clutch.

  They didn’t speak on the drive, and it wasn’t a comfortable silence. Gabriel drove too fast, cursing and cutting off other driv
ers. Myka spent the ride staring out the window at the passing cars.

  They pulled up to the mansion and Gabriel got out, slammed his door. He came to her side. “Let’s go in.”

  Myka walked beside him, heels unsteady on the gravel, the cool air teasing her nipples into taut nubs. Suddenly she felt prickles on the back of her neck. “Gabriel. What if someone sees me like this outside?” She glanced around, but only saw trees and parked cars.

  Gabriel’s voice was rough. “The only people with gate code access are club members. If any of them see you, I don’t mind.”

  But I mind, she wanted to reply. Instead, she swallowed hard and followed him through the lobby and out onto the main floor. She felt her face burning as people turned to look. One woman poked her partner and they both glanced over. It was the first time Myka had actually appeared this ‘sub-like’ in the club, so she could understand why people were curious.

  To her irritation, Belline was there tonight with Master Martin, and she came over, walking gracefully in a slinky g-string and heels. “Myka!” she exclaimed, giving her an air kiss that connected with nothing. “It’s so nice to see you finally acting… submissive. Gabriel, you must be thrilled.” She tilted her head and giggled. “I mean, when you and Rachel were here—oh, I miss her so much.”

  Gabriel made a noise that could have meant anything. Belline continued, “I remember how she loved the cross. Myka, surely you’ve figured out how much Gabe loves his subs on the cross?”

  “Belline—” Myka started, her voice tight. She didn’t want to make a scene, but she needed this woman to stop talking right the hell now. And why wasn’t Gabriel speaking up, arguing with Belline, defending Myka?

  “Did you have a good time seeing her the other night?” Belline asked, peering up into Gabriel’s face. “I hope she wasn’t jealous that you’ve been going out with Flora, to those benefits and such. I told her it wasn’t a big deal, that your current women are, you know, temporary.”

  “Belline. Please. Myka and I need a moment.” Gabriel’s voice was hard.

  “Oh! Of course. I think my master is calling.” Belline scampered away, and Myka could see the pleasure flowing with her moves.

  She turned to face Gabriel, her entire body cold. “What did she mean? You saw Rachel? And you’re seeing someone else, too?” She couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

  To her horror, he didn’t meet her eyes. “Myka.” His voice was tired. “I’m tired of arguing about Rachel. Can you please, please let this go? I’ve told you time and time again that I don’t want to discuss her.”

  “No!” Myka’s voice raised, and she didn’t care that people stared. “I want to discuss it, so we need to. What the hell? You said we were exclusive, Gabriel. You swore it. And—what did she mean, you’re seeing Rachel and a—a Flora, too?”

  “I’m not sleeping with anyone but you,” Gabriel said tightly.

  “That doesn’t make it okay!” Her voice shook. “Gabriel! Please. Look at me. You need to tell me what the hell is going on here. How can you be going to—events—with other women? Aren’t we a couple? That’s dishonest. I’ve been completely loyal to you!” She felt tears slide down her face, and she looked at him imploringly. “You swore in the beginning that you’d watch for my cues. That even if I said green, but was just feeling pain or anxiety, you’d stop. Have you forgotten? Why do you want to hurt me right now?”

  He shook his head, his face blank.

  “I tried a lot of new things for you,” Myka accused. “And you promised to try for me, too. So I’m asking you now. If you love me, try to be honest with me, finally, for once. Tell me about your past, tell me about what’s going on right now, and tell me that I have a place in your future.”

  “I never promised you love!” he shouted. He rubbed his hands over his eyes.

  “But last night, you did say it!” she screamed. “I told you I loved you, and you said you loved me too. You said it in French. You said it!”

  He didn’t look at her and his voice, when he spoke, cracked with powerful emotion. “We had a lot of champagne after an intense night. A night in which you lied to me and had me push you beyond your limits, something you swore to me you wouldn’t do. I was half awake, talking in a dream. A fantasy. That happens sometimes.”

  “No. No, it doesn’t. You were talking to me. To me, Gabriel! You said you loved me! We were going to talk today, figure out how to change things, how to be—a real couple.”

  “If I said that, it was a mistake. I’m sorry.” A muscle in his jaw twitched and his eyes looked moist. “Myka, I can’t do love. I don’t have what it takes. This is all I can offer you. We don’t have enough trust between us at this point, anyway. If I said something else last night, it was a terrible mistake.”

  “You’re going to deny it? Are you afraid?” Myka’s voice was raised. “Is that why you’ve been treating me with such distance, such disrespect? Are you trying to drive me away now?”

  “Maybe we do need some distance,” he replied stiffly. “If you can’t handle being with me like this and if you can’t even be honest about your limits.”

  “We need distance? Oh, I’ll give you distance. You make me sick right now. You’re breaking my heart,” sobbed Myka. “And who are you to talk about honesty? You’ve never been honest about anything, have you?” She whirled around and her searching eyes found her friend. “Jessie. Please, I need you. Will you take me home?” Her voice was shaking.

  “Yes. Of course. But Myka—”

  “Right now.” Myka ran for the door. Jessie followed behind, tugging on a sundress and sandals as she hurried, grabbing her purse and calling out instructions to Brett. Myka noticed that Gabriel stood still where she’d left him, his jaw red, his face hard. He didn’t come after her.

  * * *

  Myka didn’t sleep. When dawn broke, she got up to look at the sky lighting up, wondering how she was going to make it through the next day. Jessie had promised to get her laptop and purse from Gabriel’s house and bring them to the hotel this morning, so Myka picked them up from the front desk and tried to figure out what to do. She was on her fourth cup of coffee, staring out the window, when Kylee called, an unwelcome surprise.

  “Myka! Can you come to my room right now? I need you.”

  It had been some time since Kylee reached out with such clinging urgency, and Myka was curious and frustrated. Kylee was at the window, her arms tight across her chest. She whirled around. “Myka. I’m freaking out. Christopher is out of town for a few days visiting his, like, home. Someone died or something? And I need, I don’t have enough—I’m freaking out.”

  Myka sat down on a floral chair with curved white wooden arms. “What do you need from Christopher, Kylee?”

  Kylee smirked. “You wouldn’t understand. You’re great at your light and computer stuff, but you have no idea how hard it is to do what I do.”

  Myka kept her voice soft, even though she was pissed. “I know how hard it can be for you, all this travel, all the attention. And you know that in the past I’ve done my best to help you with the stress.”

  Kylee’s face melted. “Oh, I do know it. I’m sorry if I’m being mean. I just feel so weird!” She paced the room and gnawed at her thumbnail. “I need him and he’s not here. Can you call that doctor for me again? Please?”

  Her voice took on a wheedling tone. “It needs to be a secret, because Christopher will kill me otherwise. He said I’m doing so good right now, looking all squeaky clean for the press. All the other young pop stars have, like, these drug and drinking and arrest scandals, and I totally stand out for being a real role-model, even though I have my new image.”

  Myka interrupted. “Kylee! Your health is way more important than your image. You need to put yourself first.” She almost gave a bitter laugh, remembering how Gabriel had coached her on this very topic, about this very person. The irony was painful.

  Kylee scowled. “Having a psych doc here will make people talk. They’re waiting for me to mess up.
Some of the websites even have, like, a betting pool on how soon it will be. Do you know how many emails I get, and letters? Not just fan letters, noooo. I also get the ones that say, Kylee’s a stupid loser bitch and she’s going to fuck up soon and I’m going to laugh so hard. And the ones where people say, Let me know where to send you some drugs so you can fuck off and OD like you deserve.”

  Kyle fidgeted and bit her finger harder. “The fog is coming back, Myka.” She looked up, her eyes wide. “Do you even care enough to help me?”

  Myka shook her head. “Kylee. I’ve only ever wanted to help. You can call the doctor any time you want. And I’m always here to practice the relaxation breathing. You know that.”

  “You get her because I don’t want my cell phone, like, connected to hers. Please. You need to help me do whatever it takes so my tour can be successful.”

  Myka felt uneasy but made the call. While they waited, Kylee switched topics. “So, Myka. I keep seeing this handsome man come get you at the hotel. Is he your boyfriend?” Her eyes were trained on Myka’s face.

  “Well, sort of.”

  “What’s his name? He’s cute.”

  “Gabriel.”

  “I meant, his last name, too.”

  Uncomfortable, Myka answered, “Um, Chevalier.”

  “Ooh. A sexy Frenchman. Nice job snagging him, Myka. You guys seem serious. He’s not going to, like, take you away from me and the tour, right?” Kylee’s laugh, when it came, was a high anxious sound, more like the bleat of a sheep than a human chuckle.

  Myka looked up, surprised. “You know I’m contractually obligated to finish the tour, Kylee. I have no plans to leave you in the lurch.”

  “Well, sure. But how about after your contract is up? I want you to stay on after. I like knowing you’re around as my helper.”