by Pamela Ann
Since I was in dire need of a drink, I ordered my Adios Mother Fucker. When I held out my card, a man shoved his card into the bartender’s grasp instead. Stunned, I just gave him a “what was that for?” look. Instead of explaining himself, he held out his hand. “Alexandros Pallis.” The tall Greek man introduced himself. He was tanned with jet-black hair and dark eyes, and a sexy, drool-worthy accent. Sign me up, please!
My fun, frilly self came out automatically. “Trista, just Trista.” I shook his hand, and didn’t let go of it.
We started talking about his life. He was twenty-eight years old, and worked for his father in their family company. One thing I noticed with these Greek men was that when they were interested in a woman, they made it known in such a way that a woman knew his intentions, yet they did it in a nice fashion, like a dance. Take Dimitris, for example, that man hadn’t moved his eyes from Lindsey since the moment he’d met her. We all knew what his intentions were without him seeming overbearing. I suppose, I could refer to it as court dancing. It was a refreshing thing to see for a change. I mean, I didn’t have anything against the American way. “Ooh, baby you look mighty fine. Want to bounce and chill somewhere?” or “Hey, girl. You look hot. Want some beer?” There’s nothing really wrong with it. To be quite honest, the words used didn't matter when the guy was good looking. However, it’s nice to see a different approach to it, I suppose.
We chatted for about half an hour. Alexandros was a gentleman and I was pleased to know this. I knew deep down he must want to score with me tonight, yet it was amazing how unobvious he was. We drank and danced for an hour or so. He didn’t even try to kiss or grope me on the dance floor, which I found rather odd. Men usually bust out their dry-humping skills when dancing, he just danced. Although, I knew sooner or later, he would make a move on me.
I was proven right ten minutes later.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Alexandros asked, lifting my chin to match his gaze.
Well, here it is. “Sure, that actually sounds good.” I smiled at him. A big part of me wanted to go through this just to get it over with. It had been far too long since I had fun with any man, other than Harry, between the sheets. A small part of myself, however, told me that this might not be something I wanted to do.
“Ne, I think tonight will be good for us.” Alexandros took hold of my hand and guided us off of the dance floor.
I knew that before I left the club, I needed to tell my friends. It would be disrespectful and irresponsible of me not to. I scanned the place for Lindsey and found her busy dancing with Dimitris. From the looks of it, something hot was brewing with those two, so I didn’t really want to disturb them. That only left me with Emma to tell, who was back at the VIP table with Taylor, Bass and a few of the other actors from the set—Mo McCormack, Tanya Welsh and Vincent de la Cruz. I wanted to just leave and not go over to the table, but I knew they would be worried if I didn’t tell them where I was going.. “Do you mind waiting here? I have to tell my friends where I’m going.” I also asked him to call my cellphone so I could give his number to Emma. I needed to make sure that it was really his phone and not a phony one. I then had him text me his address as well, just to be sure. I may have no problem with a one-night hook-up, however, I wasn’t stupid enough to go off on my own with a guy without some kind of assurance that I would be safe, like get their entire background check—okay, pure bull—but somewhere along the lines, if possible. Other men would have reacted differently, but Alexandros simply wasn’t bothered by it. “I can give you my identification card, too, if you need it?” He gave a humorous laugh. He was teasing, but I also knew he meant it.
“No need. This is perfect.” I pressed my body against his and whispered against his ear. “I’ll be back.”
As I walked towards the VIP section, I gave myself a mini pep talk. I had been so blinded by my determination to get over Harry that I didn’t anticipate a little hesitation on my part. I knew I needed to get through this. I couldn’t pine away for Harry. For a year, I’d been so blinded by lust and love for him, nothing else had mattered. There was no future with Harry, though. What he did to me after he found out about the baby was totally inexcusable. Plain and simple, black and white, the man was a Triple A-Asshole.
When I got to the table, I smiled when Emma pulled me down next to her. “Hey!” I hollered. The rest of them greeted me back. I didn’t risk glancing at Taylor. I just wanted to pretend that he was not around. The less eye contact I made with him, the better… and it seemed to be working quite fine.
“You look happy.” Emma observed, smiling at me.
You do, too, Doll. You look like someone lit you up. “Do I? Well, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
Bass’s head popped up next to Emma’s shoulder. “Want to introduce the man? Hold on, don’t tell me you’re leaving with him so soon?” Bass was checking Alexandros out, as he was clearly visible from up here. Bass had no trouble picking out the right man, Alexandros’s eyes were trained on me.
I shot Bass a winning smile. “I am, actually. I have his number and addy. I will text it to Emma now. Is that cool?”
“Um, well, I guess if you really have to…” Emma was biting her lip. She only did that when she’s unsure, nervous, or thought something wasn’t a good idea.
I was busy going through my phone and didn’t look up until I was done. “What?” I questioned the handsome blonde couple. Why was Emma being a pooper?
Emma pressed her lips together, before she spoke again. “I just don’t want you in harm’s way. We’re in a large city now, a place you’re unfamiliar with, a foreign country where you don’t speak the language.”
Damn. The woman started busting out her formal speech. I had to get out of here before Lindsey joined us. If Emma was reacting this way, Lindsey would be worse. I was actually surprised Taylor hadn’t butted in on the conversation yet. It was so unlike him, but who cares? “There’s nothing to worry about. I have GPS on my phone. You’ll know where I am. We good?”
Emma went on pressing pressed her lips together again. I knew the rest of the table was listening to us talking because they became silent. The music thudded loudly around us.
Bass wrapped his arms around Emma’s neck before he directed his attention to me. “Promise us that you’ll have your phone on at all times. Don’t forget to mention that you know people who will hunt him to the ground if he doesn’t return you in perfect condition. If he does something you’re not comfortable with, we’ll come get you at any hour. Be safe, alright?” He kissed Emma’s cheek before continuing, “Your friend here worries, as we all do. Warn him that you have Dimitris Kosta on your speed dial. That should scare him off.”
I had learned tonight that Dimitris was from an influential family. They had a powerful lineage and a lot of money . , H h is ancestors had a part in forming Greece’s history. Who could thump that? I overheard this information from Mo McCormack, one of the actors, as he spoke in an animated fashion to Tanya Welsh.
“Got it, Boss.” I gave Emma and Bass a quick hug (So cool! I’m tight with the Badass BC!). Before leaving, I bid everyone else goodnight—ignoring Taylor, of course. When I strutted away from them, I could feel his eyes on me, burning holes in my back. It bothered me that we have this weird, push and pull tug of war with each other. A man that could make me feel this way without fully knowing him, one that I haven’t even kissed—let alone had sex with—was perplexing. The only reasonable explanation that I could come up with other than The Hero Syndrome, Syndrome , was that Taylor always seemed to be there when I was about to break down into tears. I hated that he got a glimpse of my inner scars, my constant pain and what lurked in my darkened soul.
When I was close to reaching Alexandros, I shoved my lousy thoughts away. “Ready, omorfi mou?” he drawled as he wrapped his arms around me, his eyes sparkling.
Talking to me in Greek earned him extra brownie points. “What’s omorfi mou?” It sounded off when I pronounced it, like I was a total
wannabe. I sucked at languages, anyway.
“Omorfi means beautiful. Mou means my. My beautiful girl.” Alexandros broke it down for me in such a cute way. I almost didn’t want to think about how possessive he sounded when he said my. We barely just met and he calls me that in no time. I’m definitely not in America.
“That’s sweet, but we should get going.” My hand reached out to take his before he guided us towards the exit.
I let out a loud gasp when a large hand tightly grasped my arm. “I don’t think so. Sorry bud, but you can’t leave with her.” Taylor’s clear commanding voice hung in the air. I could hear the underlying threat in his words. By the look in his eyes, he wasn’t about to be toyed with.
“Who is this man to you?” Alexandros directed the question to me, his accent more pronounced. His patience looked like it was running out.
“He’s a friend of my friend. He’s just looking out for me, nothing more, honest.”
When I felt Alexandros’s hand grip mine, I knew I had to interrupt before he said something that would detonate Taylor. The last thing I needed was for them to fight. “Taylor, back off. This isn’t funny anymore!” My small hand tried to detach his fingers from my arm; instead of letting go, he held it tighter.
“Do I look like I’m cracking jokes to you, Trista?” Taylor hissed, his words were directed at me, but his eyes were glued to Alexandros, unfaltering.
Seriously, how humiliating was this?
“I’m sorry about this. Let me just talk to him for a second,” I said to Alexandros. Glaring, I spoke to Taylor. “We need to talk. You have gone way overboard!”
Without much consideration, Taylor dragged me with him. My steps had a hard time keeping pace. He was acting like a major brute and was pissing on my parade. Enough was enough.
We reached a darkened turn, Taylor reached for the first door he could get open, made sure it was empty then yanked me inside by my arm.
An angry growl erupted from within me as I violently shook his hand off. “You stupid shit! I’m so sick of this idiotic, damsel in distress, rescue protocol you’ve been exhibiting!” I screamed at him before he even closed the door.
A grating laugh came from him. “You’re calling me stupid? Well, that’s very generous of you. You should look into the mirror first before you call someone else stupid!”
Aw, hell no! The claws and fists were definitely coming out now.
Raging with violent ire, I closed the gap between us in a blink of an eye. With my hands, I pushed him backwards. “How. Fucking. Dare. You!” I emphasized each word with a hard push until he was against the wall. “You have no right to get into my business. You saved my life, thank you, but that doesn’t give you the right to fuck it for me. It’s my life. My right if I want to fuck it up or not.”
In a flash, he swiftly switched us, and now I was the one trapped against the wall. My crazy rant had little effect on him. My intentions clearly did not register. In fact, he was incensed with rage, absolutely livid in his own right. He looked like a man who was beyond his limit. “You are a fucking selfish woman. Get out there and face reality! The world doesn’t revolve around you, Trista! So, what if your boyfriend broke up with you? Big fucking deal! Toughen up. Life is a big boot camp. Grow some backbone, you self-centered brat.” He furiously spat at me, our faces inches from each other.
SLAP! My palm connected to his cheek with a swift movement. Taylor made a harsh growl. His eyes looked completely dangerous.
Yet, none of it fazed me. I had never known uncontrollable rage until tonight. Where does he get off insulting me like he’s known me all my life! “How dare you! You don’t know me, so you don’t have the right to criticize my actions. Get off your high and mighty fucking horse, Taylor. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not perfect and I don’t claim to be. I make mistakes, all the time, but that doesn’t make me a bad person. You can’t just stand there and judge me like a bystander watching the drama unfold before your insipid eyes. YOU. KNOW. NOTHING!”
Taylor’s face was an inch from mine, but I wasn’t going to back down, never again. The room seemed small and the only sound my senses could pick-up and concentrate on were the sounds of our shortened breaths, along with the frantic, manic speed of my heartbeat, I couldn’t even hear the club music anymore. It became grave when he didn’t respond immediately.
When he did speak, I was a little surprised. “Then make me understand. Why are you doing this to yourself? I can’t ignore how your eyes always reveal pain. Yet, the only thing you want to achieve is to fuck it out of your system. Do you honestly know what you’re doing, Trista? Do you really want to go through sleeping with all these men and regret it the next day?” Taylor asked in a worried tone, but his hardened demeanor did not thaw, not one bit.
Heck, people always used sex to get over someone. It’s been a well-practiced theory ever since humans knew what heartbreak was. “I do know what I want! I want to fuck nameless and faceless men. If you have a problem with that, too bad, because I don’t give a flying fuck.” My honesty seemed to throw him off, but it did little to ease the tension between us. It was maddening and I badly wanted for him to fight back. I had so much to let off my chest and Taylor made it easy for me to target him as my emotional punching bag.
He closed the hairsbreadth space between us. Cheek to cheek, my heart galloped loudly against his wildly beating heart. “Fine, you want to fuck. You want to lose yourself in sexual gluttony to forget whatever shit you’re going through. Well, I’ve got the best solution for you. Why don’t you use me instead? I’ll do whatever you want. Use me however you want.” His husky, downright seductive voice sent acute, electrifying waves of potent arousal into my core. My underwear suddenly felt moist. Shit.
My body tensed and clenched as I tried to hold back from responding to him. His offer was tempting, but I couldn’t possibly consider the idea. Taylor evoked emotions that were too troubling for me to entertain. I already feared I had the Hero Syndrome crap going on. He’d already rattled me. If I added sex on top of the list, it would be too much to handle. Besides, the fact that I might see him in LA, yeah, I had reason enough to back away.
I needed him to fight back and dash that idea of him as my stud slave. “Who the hell do you think you are? Swooping in like you’re some cock in shining armor? This is stupid.” I stomped past him. Taylor immediately grabbed my arm and dragged me back against the wall. For the first time tonight, my eyes examined my surroundings. A sizable, square, office table, a small couch and about eight filing cabinets summed up the space in its entirety. I noted how the room was dimly lit. The only lights were the small red dot on the smoke alarm and a tiny night-light.
Taylor extended his left arm to reach the door. I freaked when I heard the lock click. Aw, hell no. Who did he think he was messing with, a fucking Barbie? I moved and tried to reach the door. “Get me the hell out of here, you stupid prick!” I shoved past him, but his steel-hardened arm circled my hip, as he swiftly dragged me towards the table. He planted my ass at the edge and his daunting body ensconced my tiny frame, trapping me until I was at his mercy.
I peered at him, my body fearful yet thrilled at the same time at his crass, dominating attitude. “What the hell, Taylor—”
His eyes were dark and formidable, unreadable. Utterly and completely menacing. “SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP! Trista. For once, just shut the fuck up!” He barked at me before he savagely devoured my lips. He kissed like a man who was famished. It was voracious, punishing, and absolutely ravenous—like a man who was at the point of no return.
Hell, I devoured him like he was my last meal on earth, too. His barbaric he-man behavior inflamed by body and it surrendered to him without hesitation. One touch of his lips was all it took, all fight and conviction completely left me.
I couldn’t help moaning when he held me possessively, kissed me passionately. I threw my head back when he started to nip my neck. “I promise I’ll fuck you good. So, good, you will forget about that guy that you’re s
o in love with.”
Oh, yes. The images his words paint in my mind were definitely what I needed. Dirty mouth Taylor, now that I can sign up for! It was fascinatingly sexy and utterly delicious. It was a serious turn on. Hell, I was deliriously turned on. I had an idea of what it would be like to be in his arms, but this was beyond what I had contemplated. This animal of a man was unexpected.
“Hurry up and fuck me, then. I’ll let you know after if lived up to that offer.” I ordered, but inside, I was begging. I was beyond saving now. My body fevered for his touch, for his possession.
He immediately parted my legs. My dress slid upwards, giving him access to my womanhood. Fascinated, I watched his head drift down to the V of my thighs. His nose touched my lace thong and I stilled when I heard him inhale my scent. I was taken aback when he bit the top of my slit, over the thong. “Shit!” I unexpectedly hissed. It wasn’t painful or anything, but I was shocked. What kind of kinkiness was this guy into?
I got my answer when he started to eat me out over my thong. It was unexpected and completely different from anything I had experience before, but maybe a change would be good. I certainly didn’t need to be reminded of Harry. That man was a fan of traditional, missionary style fucking.
Taylor’s large hands slid underneath me where he gripped my ass cheeks, locking me in place, at the mercy of his mouth. I started to pant when I felt his hot tongue trace the side of my thong, gliding across it in a torturous motion, seeking entrance to my pussy. The first feather-like stroke was heavenly. I was dripping wet, burning hot, and fucking ready. Yet Taylor continued taking the long route and I didn’t know if I should moan or cry from frustration. “Oh. I. Taylor!” I incoherently said as that powerful tongue of his gave my clit a lashing, beating it with grueling accuracy.