"Hi yourself." He clears his throat. "You look...beautiful." His voice breaks as the last word slips through his lips.
"I clean up alright," I retort with a smirk. "But nothing that causes fireworks."
He takes a step forward, followed by another. He looks so powerful right now, his face never switching emotions as he stalks toward me. The closer he gets, the faster my heart beats. I feel like I have butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, something that is becoming quite common. I'll never get tired of the affect he has on me. It may be new still, but I know there's a difference. That's easy to see.
He stops in front of me, taking hold of my hand, but then trails his fingertips up my arm and across my bare shoulder. Goosebumps rise with each inch of skin that he touches, making me shiver with the tickling sensation. He touches his index finger where my collarbone meets in the middle and swipes it down the center, between my breasts, stopping at my naval. "That's where you're wrong, sexy. You're capable of sparking fireworks when in total nudity without a speck of makeup and wet hair. This...is fucking phenomenal, and it's all mine. Gold is your color, baby."
He's referring to my dress, the gold number that shines with every movement, only covering the necessities. It's a halter style neckline that flows down in the front, creating a trail of fabric the runs down my breasts to the skirt that is fitted close to the body all the way to the ankle in the front. Instead of a traditional halter neckline, in the back the fabric crisscrosses in the middle, then attaches back at the skirt. The skirt is again fitted around my butt but then fans out at the back of my knee, creating a short train. I got Alyvia to come over and do my makeup similar to the night of the fight. The night that went so terribly wrong.
In this world that I've been raised in, the bolder and more expensive the dress, the more you get noticed. I wasn't sure about this one, but after just seeing the look on his face as he took me in, I knew it was worth every thousand that Daddy is about to pay...and I don't have a guilty bone in my body about it. After all, I have to make the almighty bitch happy. I wouldn't want to embarrass her by showing up in something less than two grand.
"You think so?"
"I know so. Your skin is impeccable. Your beauty is natural. Not all women can say that."
Every time he compliments me it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. It also gives me a little more confidence than I had the day before. "I guess I can't be too bad if I turned your head," I say jokingly.
He places his palm against my cheek and stares into my eyes. His eyes narrow slightly as they scan mine side to side. "I would have noticed you anywhere, even in a crowd full of people. I'm just glad I was in the right place at the right time. I kind of don't want to imagine how it would have turned out had I not given in to Alyvia and gone to that fashion show. I guess sometimes things work out in our favor, no matter what path we traveled upon prior."
"Are you ever going to tell me about your past? You told me about the nightmares from your childhood and that they don't occur when we sleep together, but when will you tell me why you have them or what they're about? I want to know you on a deeper level, Haddox. Please. I promise to never judge you, if that's even why you're skeptical of telling me."
"I will...in time. I want to tell you, but I don't want to lose you because of it. One step at a time, baby. One step at a time."
My heart aches that he thinks I would leave him over his past. It's still surreal that I feel this way about someone. I'd be crazy to leave him over things that happened before me. I grab the flap of his tuxedo in my hands and pull him closer. "I promise I won't leave you over your past, no matter what it is. Our past makes us who we are, Haddox. We may be ashamed of it, but sometimes those bad things add beauty and depth to the pages of our story, because when we finally reach the ending, we get a happily ever after that we thought would never come when walking through the fire. They're called scars...and we all have them. Each tells a story. No matter what has happened in your life, there is always someone that has a similar background, therefore, they will understand the pain. Those people usually find each other, because the heart recognizes another broken heart, being drawn to it like gravity, because they want to mend together."
I take his hand and run his finger along the scar on my left cheek. Most people don't notice it until up close, because it isn't very deep. It's a horizontal line a couple of inches in length. "See this one?"
He nods, so I continue. "This was when I told my mom that Cole and I broke it off. She slapped me and her ring scraped my skin, breaking it. It was my fault, she said. I obviously had done something wrong or he wouldn't be chasing after other women. I wasn't satisfying him enough...and because of that I deserved a slap across the face."
Without studying his reaction I move his hand again, but lower this time, tracing the similar scar on my chest, but a little more pronounced and wider than the last. "Or this one...My mom wanted me to model, but I didn't want to. I wanted to take art classes instead. I figured if I gained a little weight my mom would be too embarrassed to try and make me model like all the other rail thin girls, so I ate constantly for a few weeks. I was wrong. She made me do it anyway, and while curling my hair she burned me with the rod, stating that if I wanted to make her look bad then she would do the same to me."
"I hate your mother," he says, adding nothing more.
"I hate her too, and she's part of my blood." I rub the scar in his eyebrow that I've noticed a few times. "What is this one from? Will you tell me?" I never allow my eyes to break from his, giving him less opportunity to think.
"My dad threw an empty liquor bottle at my head when I was fifteen. I had stayed gone for a few days, trying to get over the broken rib I had from a few days before. He didn't have anyone to take his anger out on, so he made up for it when I finally came home."
Oh, God. My insides are aching. No one deserves to be abused, verbally or physically. Even though he's just now giving me a small look into the dark room of his past, I can't say that I'm surprised. When he told me he had nightmares and his parents were never spoken of, I kind of put it together like a puzzle. I can't imagine what all he's been through, but I know I want to change his future from what he endured in his past. He needs love; something he never obviously never got before, and I'm going to be the one to give it to him...even if I never get it back in return. "Guys like me don't get happily ever afters, Piper. It's just not in the cards for me. Getting out of the gunfire was the closest to a happily ever after as I'm going to get."
"Oh, but baby...that's where you're wrong. Everyone can have a happily ever after. The key is letting yourself have it; nothing more, and nothing less."
He slams his mouth against mine, taking what's his. He walks me backwards, roughly pressing me against the wall. "Fuck, I want you right now. I need to unload myself inside of you while you clench that warm pussy around my cock. You want it?"
I love when he talks dirty to me. It stirs some dark nook inside that I never knew existed. "Yes," I whisper as my hormones start to race through my bloodstream. "I always want you. Each day more than the last."
I lean my head back, giving him access to my neck. He runs the tip of his nose down the seam. "You smell so damn good." He begins to inch the fabric of the dress up my legs, slowly driving me crazy. If we didn't have to be at that event I would let him rip it from my body.
As the bottom hem reaches my thighs a knock sounds at the door. "You have got to be fucking kidding me," I scream in frustration. I'm so damn wet right now that I'm uncomfortable. I want to change my underwear, but there's no time. "Tell me why in the hell I agreed to share a limo with my parents. Am I that much of an idiot? Dammit!"
He chuckles in a low voice at my ranting. He swipes his tongue up my ear and pulls my ear lobe into his mouth, lightly sucking before releasing it. "Don't worry, baby. Sex in public is better anyway. The risk of getting caught makes it that much fucking better. I won't let you go without for long," he says in a husky voice, and I think I just a
dded to my problem between my legs.
I bang my head against the wall. "Maybe we should just pretend we're not home and see if they go away."
"What...and miss a chance to piss off your mother? No way, beautiful. Let's go." I whine as soon as he finishes. I really don't want to be with my parents right now. I don't want to go to this damn event. There is no telling what kind of drama is going to occur tonight. You never make it out of one of those places without something happening.
"Fine," I say as he pulls me through the penthouse. "Just don't judge me for my parents’ behavior. Sometimes I think I may have been adopted."
***
We step out of the limo and head for the security detail standing at the door. Haddox looks at me with a smile as he winks and offers his arm for me. I take it, ready to move on and get this over with. "Are you sure you don't want to go back after that awkward ride here?"
The entire ride my dad played 'twenty fucking questions on the must haves for what is required to date my daughter and I'm going to find out if you have them all.' I was humiliated with each question in regards to his yearly salary to his career and would he be able to give me the life I so much deserved when my fashion career didn't work out. I wanted to sever myself from him financially and slap him with a fuck you Dad and thanks for the positive reinforcement that I can make it in this world on my own, but that doesn't pay for school or for me to survive, and with my school schedule there is no way I can work a job that pays enough for all of that shit, so I'm stuck rolling my eyes and mentally flipping him the bird.
My mother, the queen of the evil mothers club, just sat beside him playing her part and trying to reassure me, every time I voiced my embarrassment, that they were just looking out for me, and that if Haddox couldn't handle the heat then maybe he wasn't the guy for me. Did I forget to mention that I despise my snobby parents? How the hell did I derive from the same gene pool as them? It's times like this that I want to question either my paternity or the fundamentals of biology, because it just doesn't add up.
He smirks at me, placing his other arm over his heart, feigning offense. "Awkward? I thought that went well. Are you trying to say they don't like me? Well, damn, and to think I'll still be banging their daughter while they're raising their champagne flutes later. How lower class of me."
I burst out in laughter, but immediately cover my mouth and take his arm. Shit. I didn't mean to do that. I whisper for only Haddox to hear. "Score for the girl in gold. Everyone else will be walking around with rolls of cash shoved up their asses and I'll be orgasming in a supply closet somewhere. Sign me up."
"You already are, beautiful." He kisses my temple and we begin to ascend the steps as we follow my parents through security. I've never been one to brag, but hanging on his arm makes me feel like a goddess.
We enter into the venue and already the mood changes. It's like walking on the set of a movie, everyone playing their parts. Here, it's expected of you. You obey the rules of high society, never allowing your behavior to stray. Usually I humor my parents, presenting the perfect daughter of one of the high rollers in New York, but strangely, tonight I want to be myself. Fuck the high and mighty. Hanging around Alyvia and Haddox is changing me. I didn't want this life before, and I sure as hell don't want it now.
I look at Haddox as he takes it all in. I really hope he's not freaking out right now. This is a lot for people raised around this, so I can't even imagine a first timer. He tugs on the collar of his shirt, making me nervous. I move in front of him and grab the knot of his tie, adjusting it. He looks me in the eyes. "Keep eye contact, only speak when spoken to, and answer questions with questions, or keep a vague answer. Got it? Envision the men here as bulldogs. If given the opportunity, they'll eat you alive."
He nods and his shoulders relax, relieving me. "Do you want a drink?"
"White wine, please." He kisses me briefly and walks away, leaving me alone as my parents already start to mingle throughout the room. I watch him walk away, admiring that beautiful backside.
"Hey, Piper. You're looking good tonight, as always." My eyes widen at the sound of that voice. I should have known there was a damn reason she wanted me to come here. Maybe if I just stand here and ignore him he will go away. I don't want to look at him.
"Piper." His voice is just outside my ear this time, but in a different tone, a seductive one. "Are you going to ignore me? Don't pretend you aren't happy to see me. You knew I was going to be here. Turn around and look at me."
He runs his fingertips up my arms, assuming that I'm still his. Before, I would succumb to his ploys of getting in my pants, but right now it's just pissing me off. I can't believe I was ever so naive. It's sickening. Tonight makes a mark in my life events calendar. I'm no longer under the spell of Cole Henderson.
I shake off his arms and turn around, but not because he wants me to. I put my pretty smile in place, the one that he thinks he owns. I place my hand on the side of his cheek as he looks at me. "Awe, Coley that's so sweet. You thought I was here for you. I'm sorry to burst your bubble, baby, but I had no idea you were going to be here tonight. I'm only here to satisfy my parents, but that was cute."
My hand drops as Haddox presses the front of his body to the back of mine. He doesn't have to speak for me to know it's him. My body reacts to him in ways I'll never understand. I bite the bottom of my lip as a smile continues to break through. Cole takes on a look I've never before seen on him: a competitive panic to hold onto something that is his. The funny thing is, there isn't a single thing I want from him anymore, so there's no need for him to try anything stupid. He already lost me.
"Is he bothering you, baby?" Haddox places his arms around my waist, filled with two champagne flutes. He's defending his territory, and it means more to me than he'll ever understand.
"Who is he, Piper?"
"I'm her boyfriend. Maybe I should be asking you the same question," Haddox quips sarcastically.
I place my hands on the side of Haddox's thighs, but continue looking at Cole so that he understands. "Haddox, this is Cole. He's someone that used to matter, but now he's just an old friend, and nothing more. Let's go mingle. It's what we're here for, after all."
Haddox backs up, putting some distance between us. I take one of the champagne flutes from him and wrap my arm around his, taking hold of his bicep. Before I turn to walk away there is one more thing I need to say. "Oh and Cole, thanks for the compliment, but just remember that from here on out you'll only be admiring it from afar. I've moved on and so should you. Have a good night. Goodbye, Cole."
He clenches his jaw and I turn to follow Haddox through the room. As the distance increases, the chains on my heart turn to ash, freeing me completely. My eyes start to fill with moisture as I realize I'm finally breathing completely and unbarred. Haddox was my saving grace. My heart is no longer prisoner to Cole, because it fell harder for Haddox. On this very night I've discovered that Haddox is it for me. He consumes me.
If this doesn't work out I'll remain alone, because the thought of not being with him is enough to shatter me. The girl that I know will disappear with him, and a hollow shell will remain in its place. The aftermath of Cole was nothing compared to what it would be with Haddox if he chooses to discontinue this relationship at any given time. I just hope that doesn't happen.
A sense of possession took over when I saw her standing before him. I could see the way he was looking at her, and immediately I knew who he was. He gave himself away easily. I despise guys like him. He's a predator. He wants her, but he doesn't want her. He sure as hell doesn't want anyone else to have her. Well the son of a bitch can sit back and watch her with someone else. He should have taken better care of her when he had her. Now, she's mine, and no longer his to toy with.
He's predictable. He baits her to hold onto her until he's done dipping his dick in every pussy that will take him, and then he'll come back for her when he's done partying. He's going to be in for a rude awakening. She's no longer a free agent. She’
s under contract with me. Their contract became void when he fucked another woman. She's mine, and I'm not setting her free. Like the dress she's wearing, I've discovered gold. She's precious and she's becoming rare as time goes by.
I finish off my glass of champagne and place it on a passing tray being carried by a champagne butler. "I want to try something. Dance with me."
She tilts back her glass and empties it, before setting it down also. "Don't feel obligated. We don't have to. I know these can be really awkward."
I take her hand and quickly spin her once, admiring her body in its entirety through a three-dimensional view. "When are you going to learn that I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to? I don't do anything out of guilt or obligation. At some point you'll realize that I mean what I say and say what I mean."
She smiles as those big, brown eyes lock on mine. "I love that line," she whispers. "It's one of my favorite. One little line can be so powerful."
I pull her close to me and wrap one arm around her waist, lacing the opposite hand with hers, but keep our arms folded between our bodies. It may not be traditional, but it's a little classic with a little mix of our own. I start to sway when she lays her head against my chest. "So you know how to dance? You've never mentioned that before."
"There are a lot of things I still haven't mentioned. Sometimes it's easier to learn through discovery than by telling. I'm not a big talker, in case you haven't noticed. It only comes easily when I'm not referring to myself as a topic of conversation. I only know what I've watched others do. I'm not all that good at it, but I'll play the part. This is my first attempt, so don't be surprised if I step on your feet."
She releases a sigh of contentment as we dance to the jazz music playing throughout the room. It's not normally my music of choice, but I guess rich people wouldn't find much amusement in rock and alternative. "You can step on my feet. I don't mind. I don't need perfect. It's overrated. Perfectly imperfect is fucking good enough for me."
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