Red Collar

by Cartharn, Clarissa

  She widened her eyes in panic, her body stiffened in his arms. But when his hands ran under her dress and up her thighs, she slapped his arms away, pushing against him.

  “No!” she exclaimed. “Stop it!”

  He let her go abruptly, stunned by her protests. But his eyes were still filled with his sexual desire for her.

  “What’s going on, Kate?” he said, anger and frustration seeping into his voice. “I’ve told you before, I don’t like being teased.”

  She glared at him, incensed with rage. “Teased? I did not tease you. You… you pulled me … and started kissing… and touching my…me…” She flustered.

  He raised his brows. “Are you telling me you didn’t like it? That isn’t the message I was getting.”

  She glowered. “I… I…,” she stammered.

  He waited impatiently, his hardened arousal tormenting him to take her regardless of her pathetic protests.

  “I can’t do this,” she let out frantically. She tried to swing past him and make a dash for the door.

  “What?” he said, taken aback. Where had that come from! “What do you mean? What are you doing?” He clutched onto her arms and pulled her back to him. She couldn’t leave him. Not now. Not in this state.

  She trembled against him as he held her close to him. “I can’t do this, Clayton,” she shivered. “I can’t be your mistress.”

  “And why not?” he asked, firmly, his eyes searching for answers in hers.

  She closed her eyes, unable to bear him peer into hers. “Let me go, Clayton.”

  “No,” he said. “Not until you tell me why.”

  She pulled away and walked towards the living room. “You and that Jesse guy mocked my dress.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. “Is that it? Is that why you were angry with me all of tonight?”

  “No,” she snapped. “That is not it. It’s not all of it.” She twitched his fingers. “I realized I’m not cut out for this Clayton. I’m not that high-end socialite you’re looking for. I can’t even pretend to be. I, at first, thought I could do it. And then tonight… I discovered I can’t. I don’t suit this world. A world I know nothing about.”

  He walked up to her and cupped her face, raising it up so he could gaze at her lips. “You suit me,” he said softly. He leant down and caressed her neck with the tip of his nose.

  “Don’t, Clayton,” she pleaded in a feeble protest. She clutched his hair desperately, her head thrown back as he nibbled at her flesh. She closed her eyes to feel him trace her figure with his hands.

  He tore frantically at her strap, completely blithe of the outlandish sum he paid for her dress a few hours earlier. He kneaded her breasts like a desperate man, cupping it in his hands as he traced his tongue around her areola, before sucking onto it.

  She cried out in a blind, passionate heat. Tired of fighting him back any longer, she willingly succumbed to her desires and those he was raising inside her. She felt her feet rise off the floor, her body wrapped in the warmth of his arms as he carried her to his bed.

  He laid her on his bed. His fingers fiddled carelessly with her zipper and in frustration, half-tore it down her body. Stripping her off her dress, his eyes roamed down to her silk red panties which scantily masked what was left of her dignity.

  Her fingers traveled to his shirt and began unbuttoning it. Her eyes were entirely enraptured by his as she worked magically at undressing him. But when she worked down to unzip his pants, she accidently brushed against his tight bulge and froze momentarily. She broke away from his gaze and looked down at him.

  He moaned. “Kate,” he whispered, against her ear. “Don’t stop. Not now. See what you do to me.”

  He lifted her palm and cupped it against his swollen desire. She felt it turgid and warm even through the fabric of his pants. She shivered from her overwhelming yearning for him.

  He unzipped his pants and lowered it.

  She watched him, her eyes filled with pure lust.

  He let himself loose and he reveled at the desire he saw in her face- one that unveiled her lust. She blatantly was coveting solely for him and he throbbed just knowing that.

  She touched him tenderly with her fingertips as if he was fragile.

  He took in a raspy breath.

  “Kate, that won’t do at all, darling,” he whispered, hoarsely. “I need you to hold me.”

  She looked up at him, her fingers instead tracing up his pelvis and to his torso.

  “What will it take you to listen,” he grumbled. “For once.”

  He pushed her down onto the bed and began kissing her taut waist gently, until he reached her red lacy knickers. He tugged at it so it rubbed against her bud. He heard her gasp. He pulled it off and caressed her womanhood with his nose. Slowly and tenderly, he tasted her.

  She writhed under him with pleasure.

  He glanced up at her. He had her completely under his spell.

  He slithered up her body, kissing her until he reached her jaws. He traced the underside of it with his lips. But when he reached to take her mouth, she moved away, laying soft kisses on his neck. He frowned.

  He pulled her back up to him. He wanted to watch her as he would plunge inside of her. He eased himself into her.

  She closed her eyes to feel him more.

  He thrust into her and she let out a painful cry, pushing him away at his torso. His eyes darkened, his brows creased with curiosity. But it was only brief.

  Slowly, she moved in unison with him until he felt her tighten around him, a soft moan escaping her lips. She clutched his shoulders as she looked at him with inebriated eyes. In that moment, he realized he could never let her go. He, finally, let himself spill into her, his body stiffening as he released himself into his ecstasy.

  Chapter 5

  He watched her sleeping soundly beside him. Her body was tucked onto his sides, her head resting on his shoulders. Her dark hair was splayed over his pillows and he couldn’t resist entwining his fingers through its soft strands.

  He didn’t understand why she was an escort. She was well-educated and held a good secretarial position until she lost it a few months back. Had she been working the escort field on the side to her regular employment? She certainly carried herself well when he first saw her with Madame Madge a week ago. But why was she so tight when he had taken her only an hour ago? If she was a well-recommended escort as Madame Madge had stated, she should never have been almost as tight as a virgin. Recollecting her climax itself, hardened him once again.

  He looked down at her and caressed her shoulders with his fingertips. But he was determined to take it slow with her. She had put up enough resistance in the two days he had met her. It was enough to know that if he didn’t play his cards right, she would slip from his fingers, preferring to run in the opposite direction to his bed. And in it was where he wanted her.

  *****

  Kate opened her eyes slowly, only to notice the rays of the morning sun streaming through the bedroom blinds. It took her a while for her mind to comprehend that she wasn’t dreaming.

  Something stirred in the sheets beside her and when she turned, she found herself staring into the face of the man who ravished her, both body and soul last night. She flushed when she remembered how she had wantonly surrendered herself to him despite her so-called self values.

  She watched him sleep, his chest rising and falling to the rhythm of his breaths. Her eyes traced his well-toned muscled arms up to his face. He seemed so peaceful, quite the contrast to the man who frowned upon her constantly. A man with whom she had wrestled with emotionally last evening; a man who kept toe-to-toe with her in those emotional wrecking turmoil and who she ultimately lost her battle to.

  She slid out of the bed as lightly as she could. The last thing she needed right now was to confront him. She didn’t think she had the courage. How could she have given herself up so easily after telling him she was quitting as his mistress? Shouting it out rather, with every cell in her body silently co
mmanding him to shove his offer as mistress up where it belonged.

  She pushed the covers aside. She was naked as a new born baby. She darted a panicked look at Clayton, praying to dear God he was still asleep and then leapt for her dress. It was ripped! All that could be salvaged of it was its skirt.

  She let out a silent profanity, one she often reprimanded Libby for and then pulled the dress on. She swung its strap around her waist and tied it to her sides like a belt. Tip-toeing to Clayton’s dresser, she picked out a tee shirt she believed could fit her. Straightening herself in the mirror, she hoped she could make a decent journey home without much attention. So much for throwing her own clothes in the trash, she huffed regretfully. She should have stood her grounds and kept them.

  She tread out of the penthouse silently and then raced out of the building. In the open air, she breathed in the morning air of freedom.

  The city was just rising from its slumber. A woman walked past her, giving her a curious look and then glanced at the apartment building.

  Kate blushed, brushing her hair with her hands. She must look terrible in her make-shift outfit. It didn’t help at all that she was stepping out of a luxurious apartment block, her hair all tousled. It didn’t leave much to anyone’s imaginations of her night activities. She paled. She must look like a prostitute.

  She hastened her steps to the next subway station. She needed to get away from Clayton Reid as quickly as she could.

  *****

  She walked in a trance back home. She couldn’t help castigating herself all the way home for sleeping with Clayton. How could she have stooped so low? Selling herself for sex? She wasn’t short of a prostitute. She was one. Her eyes watered. As she reached her apartment building, she finally let her tears flow. Her soul and her conscience wrestled together, for she had enjoyed herself be taken by the one man she had thought she would despise for the rest of her life.

  She leant against the wall of the staircase, trying to regain some stability to her quivering self.

  A thud of footsteps came rushing down the stairs and she turned away to the wall to hide her tear- stained face.

  “Lorenzo!” called the woman from upstairs.

  “Vuelvo en seguida,” shouted back the young man. “I’ll be right back, mama!”

  She heard him slow his pace at the stairs, feeling his eyes on her. She thought he had walked past her because she heard the old wooden entrance door creak. But when she turned back to head up the stairs, he was standing before her, observing her inquisitively.

  She stepped back in alarm.

  He leant closer to her and peered into her face, his forehead furrowed in curiosity. He reached at her with his fore-finger and caught a falling tear.

  “You don’t want to lose that, bella dama. They’re far too precious to waste on a pendejo,” he said, softly.

  “Pendejo?”

  He shrugged. “Politely speaking, a jerk.”

  Her cheeks reddened. “How did you know?”

  “I may be young, senorita. But it doesn’t take much to guess that when a woman as beautiful as you is crying on the landing of the staircase as early as six in the morning, it is usually over a man.”

  She smiled, noticing that he tactfully avoided referring to the state of her clothes. “Thank you.”

  “No problema. I have four sisters older than me and one hermana so I should know.”

  “Hermana?”

  “Younger sister,” he explained. “She is sixteen. Three years younger than me. Gives me a lot of trouble with the boys. I’m always beating them up to keep them away from her.”

  “She must be quite popular,” she offered, not knowing what more to say.

  “Si,” he nodded, sadly. “More like trouble. Poor idiots don’t know that yet. But I’m actually doing them a favor when I scare them away from her.”

  He said it so seriously, she couldn’t help blurt out a chuckle.

  “She can’t be that bad,” she giggled.

  “Si dama,” he said. “She is. Esta niña es un diablillo. This one, she is a little devil.”

  She let out a laugh and he smiled.

  “That is better, bella dama,” he said. “Your smile suits you.”

  Somehow he had comforted her for the present. But she knew Clayton would return to torment her once she would be alone again.

  She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m Kate.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “I’m Lorenzo. But you must know that already. I think the whole building does. My mama screams it so much like it’s the next one hit wonder.”

  “Lorenzo! Is that you down there? I can hear you,” the woman shouted from upstairs.

  Lorenzo shrugged. “I told you. I dare say it rhymes too. I tell you, if she went professional with her rapping, we wouldn’t be living here.”

  “Lorenzo!” his mother shouted again.

  “Lo siento, me tengo que ir,” he mumbled. “I have to go. As much as I love my mama, I’d never escape from her clutches today if I don’t leave sooner.”

  “You told her you’d be back,” Kate said, amused by the young man.

  “Yes,” he grinned. “In the evening. Tener cuidado. Quédese bella.” He smiled. “Take care and stay beautiful.”

  *****

  She trudged towards her apartment. Lorenzo had worked his charm and temporarily soothed her wounds. She had watched him escape into the cool morning, his bronzen skin shining in the golden rays of the sun, his lush hair bouncing as he strode away.

  She sighed. She wished she was ten years younger. It was rare that such a man lived in the squalors of New York City. Lorenzo was certainly a gem.

  She opened her door and reality struck her almost immediately. The TV blared through the door as her siblings sat mesmerised by its animation.

  “You’re late,” said Libby, giving her an angry frown.

  She sighed again. She silently swore at her lousy fate because the one person who needed to be hypnotised wasn’t.

  “Not now, Libby,” she said, sullenly.

  “Not now?” her sister mocked. “It’s past six in the morning. I thought I would have to make breakfast.”

  Kate spun furiously. “And what if you did?” she spat out. “Would it hurt?”

  “No, it wouldn’t. Haven’t I been doing it before you moved in with us? You’re all full of shit, you know that. You lecture us all about responsibilities and then you go trashing yourself all of last night!”

  “I told you not to use that language with me, Libby,” Kate warned.

  “Yeah, right!” Libby huffed. “My mouth may be not all clean enough for your standards but it’s you who’s the real bitch!”

  Kate reddened. “You’re pushing it, Libby.” She walked roughly past her into the kitchen.

  “Well, you are. You walk out of this apartment wearing a bitchy outfit, pretending you’re going to work and all. But all you were doing was partying. Whoever goes to work dressed like a skank! I’m not an idiot, Kate. I’m old enough to know what’s going on.”

  Kate rubbed her throbbing temples. “If you think you’re old enough, act like it. Learn when to shut up.”

  “By the way, that’s not the dress you were wearing. But what the heck is that? Is that a guy’s shirt? You were with a boy last night, weren’t you?” Libby ran her eyes down her dress, scornfully.

  “Libby, please. It isn’t the time.”

  “That’s where we agree,” Libby threw back sarcastically. “You can’t admit it, can you? You lied to us. Told us you were working but all you were doing was fucking!”

  “Libby!” Kate swirled at her. “That’s enough! One more word out of your filthy mouth and you will be sorry. Unless you’ve forgotten, it’s me that runs this joint!”

  “Otherwise what?” Libby minced angrily. “You’ll send us to foster care? It would be better than this shithole!”

  Kate moved threateningly towards her. “You don’t know what a shithole is, you ungrateful, unappreciative little wench. If there i
s anyone who I will be sending to foster care, it will be you. And it’s not as rosy as your imaginative mind thinks it is.”

  “I don’t care,” Libby said stubbornly, standing her ground. “I’ll be eighteen in three years. I’ll manage. Do us a favour and send me.”

  “I will do you a favour and keep you. You don’t know what you want, you twit. With that kind of attitude, you wouldn't last a week in foster care. Now, get out of my face, or I swear, Libby, I’ll rip every goddamn benefit you’ve been leeching off me, from you.”

  Libby paled. She stamped her foot in frustration and stomped out of the kitchen and into her bedroom.

  Kate held onto the kitchen table and took in deep, steady breaths to calm herself. Hopefully, the misfortunes plaguing her morning had come to an end.

  “It isn’t over yet, you know.”

  She looked up at the thirteen year old blonde boy leaning against the kitchen door frame.

  “Where have you been?” she said.

  He shrugged. “Here. Watching you two squabbling as usual. I thought I might even get to watch a free chick fight.”

  She smiled. “Oh, you’d like that, would you?”

  He shook his head. “But every time you throw that reducing privileges line and she clams up immediately.”

  She gave him a friendly thump on his arm. “You could try talking to your sister.”

  He grinned. “And get a mouthful of that? No thanks. I’m good.”

  “Rudy, she might listen to you.”

  “Libby listens to no one,” he said with particular emphasis on the ‘no’.

  “I need help, Rudy,” she protested, gently.

  “Now help, I can do,” he said, surveying the ingredients for breakfast. “What do you need?”

  *****

  She stood beneath the gentle spray of the shower. It placated her mind, salving the pain in her soul. She held onto herself as she finally allowed herself to dispel her hurt through a silent, shattering weep.

  What would her father have thought of her if he knew she had resorted to prostitution to save her family from miserable poverty? Would he still be as proud of her as he had been when he had beamed brightly during her college graduation or when he had bragged about her being a secretary?