by S. R. Grey
“Uh…”
I was stumbling, and Lucien spoke right over me, his tone becoming terser and terser. “This number is for friends. It’s for people I choose to talk to. I don’t recall giving it to you. So I must inquire, is there a reason why you’re contacting me—”
“You, you…” I stammered, interrupting. Now, I was mad. What a prick.
“—on my private line,” he continued as if I’d never spoken.
I passed mad and landed at fuming. What an arrogant, pompous ass. And to think I’d spent the whole day thinking of him, feeling aroused by him, touching myself while looking at images of him. For the love of God, I’d given him my virginity. Asshole.
“First off,” I began, “you have some nerve acting as if we’re strangers.”
“Sorry to break it to you,” Lucien stated matter-of-factly, “but we are strangers.”
It was all I could do to keep from climbing through the phone and throttling him. If I could have, I would have.
“I’d hardly call us strangers after the things that occurred last night,” I volleyed back.
He barked out a laugh. “One night of sex doesn’t make us friends all of the sudden.”
“It makes us something,” I retorted.
What was I even going on about? I knew I had no real right to make any demands. He was essentially correct, but still, he had me so pissed.
And then he had the guile to laugh, like a deep, fully amused chuckle.
“Well, I’m glad you find this so amusing, Mr. Chambers,” I said in the coolest of tone. “I’m sure the general public will find it infinitely amusing, as well, when they see the, let’s say, very interesting shot I took of you.” Take that, I silently added.
I braced myself for his wrath…but nothing happened.
The jerk had hung up on me.
I expected Lucien to show up on my doorstep in a fury. I expected him to demand for me to give him the incriminating picture…or else. I, at the very least, expected him to call back and try to work something out with me. I mean, what if I was serious about my threat? What if I exposed him?
But none of what I expected to occur happened.
I heard not a single word from the mysterious man…if he even was a man.
One day turned to two then two days turned to three.
It was that awkward time of the year, between Christmas and New Year’s, where nobody seemed to be working. Everyone was in a festive limbo, including me. Well, minus the festive. I was actually in more of a down limbo.
The day before New Year’s Eve, I got myself together and drove to the local mall. I had a few gifts to return and figured I might as well get out of the house and do something productive. I’d not left my apartment since speaking with Lucien, and, needless to say, it felt weird to be around so many people when I stepped in the mall.
I hadn’t minded the solitude at my apartment. I had spent the time alone watching old Christmas movies and drinking too much coffee. Fueled on caffeine, I had done loads of laundry, cleaned out my closets, dusted, and vacuumed the new carpeting.
The goal, however, had been to not think of Lucien. And I’d been successful, for the most part. But here at the busy mall with the decorated trees and hanging garlands, the holiday tunes and the smell of cinnamon, I was reminded of Lucent Magazine’s Christmas party, where I’d first laid eyes on Lucien Chambers in the flesh.
Sighing, I sat down on a bench outside of a store selling cookware. I needed a distraction, so I called Veronica. After all my alone time, I decided it was time to rejoin the land of the living.
After Veronica answered and we dispensed with our greetings, I asked, “What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“It’s New Year’s Eve, silly. What do you think I’m doing?”
“Going out?”
“Yes, of course.” Veronica sounded flabbergasted with my obtuseness. “Dahlia, don’t you remember me inviting you to Solstice? There’s a private party being held there to usher in the New Year in style.”
Solstice was a high-end nightclub. They were hosting an upscale New Year’s Eve private party this year. When I thought on it further, I did vaguely recall Veronica mentioning something about the party weeks ago. I had told her no way when she’d requested I join her.
“Oh, yeah,” I murmured, “I remember now.”
“Have you changed your mind about going?” she asked. Veronica sounded so hopeful that I silenced the “no” that was on the tip of my tongue.
What other options did I have, anyway? Lounging on the sofa all night, watching more TV? Or, God forbid, continuing to pine away for Lucien?
“Hell no,” I mumbled.
Veronica replied with a confused, “Huh? Hell no to what?”
“Nothing, nothing.” I swished my hand in the air dismissively, and then I made what I hoped would be a good decision. “I think I’ll tag along with you to the party. If that’s okay, that is.”
“Are you kidding?” I could hear the smile in Veronica’s voice. “Of course it’s okay. It’s better than okay, in fact.” She paused, and, clearly pleased with my change of heart, added, “I’m happy you’re coming with, Dahl.”
The next night found me rummaging through my closet. Sadly, I couldn’t find a single thing to wear. I was going for sexy, but I was at a loss beyond the lingerie I’d picked out.
Sitting down on the edge of my bed in a black demi-bra, black panties, and black garters and stockings, I put my head in my hands, and lamented, “Ugh, I have nothing hot to wear to that damn party.”
But then I recalled a dress I had bought in the fall. It was for another party, an art gallery opening I’d been invited to in September. I’d fallen ill and had not been able to attend. That dress would be perfect!
Jumping up, I returned to the closet and pushed the clothes and hangers aside as I dug to the back. “There it is,” I said, sighing when I spotted black sequins sparkling in the dim closet lighting.
The dress was ideal for a New Year’s Eve party, particularly one being held in such a high-end, trendy nightclub.
Pulling the hot little number off the hanger, I slipped it over my head and stood in front of a mirror. Hmm… The hemline was short, very short, and there was a plunging neckline where the sequined fabric draped down almost to my waist.
There’s no way I can wear a bra with this dress, I determined.
After taking off the dress, I discarded the demi-bra I had put on earlier. Staring at my reflection in just panties, a garter belt, and stockings, I decided to lose the underwear, as well. Without the matching bra, the black panties just looked kind of off.
I felt like a slut, wearing nothing but a garter and stockings under such a revealing dress, but I kind of liked the feeling. I wished Lucien were here, as I wouldn’t have minded being his slut for the night.
My breasts felt full and heavy, swelling at the mere thought of Lucien. My pink nipples pebbled and I brushed my fingers over them in response. The black garter belt accentuated my hips and contrasted with my creamy skin, particularly at the juncture between my thighs.
Quickly, I made myself think of something else. I was wasting no more time getting myself off every time I thought of Lucien. After hanging up on me, he didn’t deserve that kind of attention.
For the second time, I slipped the dress back over my head. The tops of the stockings and clasps to the garter belt were left slightly exposed by the short length, but it all looked just right. With the plunging front showing off all of my ample cleavage, I felt ultra-sexy.
“Take that, Lucien,” I said as I slipped on five-inch pumps and spun around once in front of the mirror.
At that exact moment, I knew what my New Year’s resolution needed to be—no more thinking about Lucien Chambers. Not in any way, shape, or form.
Music pulsed all around in the club. It was dark, the industrial interior dimly lit. Every so often, strobe lights flashed rapidly, making everyone on the dance floor appear as if they were moving in slow motion.
“It’s weird in here,” I yelled to Veronica over the loud house music.
The name of the club, Solstice, was a reference to the winter solstice, and the club was thusly decorated as a winter wonderland. Everything was covered in faux ice and snow. I found it all quite realistic. So realistic, in fact, that I began to shiver in my skimpy dress, the sequins shimmering in the low lights.
Veronica leveled me with an are-you-serious expression.
“What?” I asked.
“You,” she said, pointing to me, “have no room to talk.”
“What are you talking about?” I inquired. I truly had no idea what she meant.
But it all became clear when she replied, “Dahlia, you can’t call a place weird when you yourself can’t stay away from weird.” She gestured to a crowd of men in suits, up on the second-floor level of the club.
My eyes followed her hand, and I uttered a quiet, “Oh,” when I spotted one man in particular. That was who Veronica was referring to as weird.
The man emerged from the crowd of men, who were laughing, drinking, and talking. Casually, he leaned on the edge of the railing and peered down at me.
“Lucien,” I whispered. “What is he doing here?”
Veronica rolled her eyes. “Please, Dahlia. You can’t fool me. I know you must’ve invited him.” Her gaze softened. “If you did, though, it’s okay.”
I swore to Veronica, “I didn’t invite him, V.”
“Well, he wasn’t on the guest list.”
When I glanced back up at the second floor, Lucien stepped out of sight. Sighing, I said, “Not being on the guest list wouldn’t have mattered.”
Veronica made a face, before taking a sip of her mixed drink. When she lowered her glass, she said, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Whatever the circumstances, I couldn’t believe Lucien was here at the club. I just knew he was here because of me. But really, the nerve of that man! After his rebuff and dismissal when I dared to call his precious private line, you would think he’d be playing it cool and backing up his dismissive words by ignoring me. That would drive his point home, right?
But not only was Lucien not ignoring me, he was now making his way down to the first floor.
“Shit,” I moved to hide behind a thick column of faux ice. “He’s coming this way, V. We have to lose him.”
Veronica peered in his direction. “Too late,” she said, sighing. “He can see you hiding, you crazy bitch.” She grabbed my arm and pulled me out from behind my icy cover. “You may as well give up on playing it cool.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I murmured.
Veronica’s eyes met mine. “Seriously, though, do you want me to get rid of him for you?”
I replied with an uncertain, “Yes?”
“Be cool, then.” Veronica squared her shoulders and encouraged me to do the same. “Just say hi, and then we’ll send him on his way.”
Like that was an easy task. It was laughable to think either of us could send Lucien Chambers on his way. I had the sense no one told him what to do…ever.
When Lucien reached us, he gave Veronica a curt nod and promptly zoned in on me.
“Miss Vaughn,” he said, “I wanted to stop down and personally wish you a very happy New Year.”
“Well, that’s nice of you.” I glanced at the time illuminated on my cell that was on the table. “But it’s not quite midnight yet.”
“No, it’s not.” His dark eyes seared into me, branding me. “However, if you’d be so inclined—and since it is close to midnight—I’d like to celebrate the ringing in of the New Year with you.”
He offered me his hand, and I took it without hesitation. His skin was so warm, so inviting. I flushed with excitement.
Wow. It was like we’d never even had that heated conversation the other day. It was like Lucien hadn’t heard me when I’d threatened him over the phone with the incriminating photograph. Or perhaps he didn’t care. Like how I no longer cared that he’d dismissed me so coldly. I was supposed to be mad at him, yes, but who could stay angry when gazing into such mesmerizing eyes?
Not me, apparently.
Veronica cleared her throat, and I glanced over at her.
She frowned, and I shrugged.
Curtly, she said to Lucien, “Would it be okay if my cousin and I had a minute alone?”
Lucien let go of my hand and stepped away. “Certainly.” He cleared his throat. “I need to freshen my drink, anyway.” He lifted his empty rocks glass, a lock of dark hair falling to his forehead. He looked rakishly handsome before he spun around and walked away.
“Hot,” I muttered to myself.
Veronica leaned into me and hissed, “Are you crazy? I thought you were planning on staying away from him.”
“I never said that,” I replied, in defense of my behavior.
“What? Five minutes ago, you wanted me to get rid of him, right?”
“Um…”
I thought I was done with Lucien too, after his terse treatment of me. But did I really want to stay away? “No,” I replied.
“No what?” Veronica questioned.
“No,” I stated more resolutely. “I don’t want to stay away from him, and I don’t want you, or anyone, to get rid of him for me.”
She shook her head. “What is wrong with you, Dahlia?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered. It was the truth.
“You’re acting so hot and cold.”
Veronica sounded frustrated, and I couldn’t blame her.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, eyes downcast.
I didn’t understand my behavior, either. Lucien had this hold over me, particularly in person. That was the only explanation I could come up with.
Veronica shot a furtive glance to where Lucien was making his way back to us, fresh drink in hand. In a hushed voice, she said, “Look, I understand you’re confused about your feelings for him. That’s to be expected under the circumstances.” She waved her hand around. “Losing your virginity to him and all. But I’m worried for you, Dahl. Sure, Lucien is gorgeous, rich, and successful, but there’s something off about him.”
“Appealingly off,” I retorted.
“Dangerously off,” she countered.
Lucien was well out of earshot, but I swear I detected a hint of a smile on his face. He was well-aware that there was something off about him. And that was what made him so damn fascinating.
Turning to Veronica, I said, “Look, V, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to talk to him for a little while, okay?”
She appeared skeptical. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I motioned to her friends in the bar area. “Go hang with your friends. I’ll re-join you guys later tonight.”
“Okay,” she said, relenting. “But for the record, know that I support you, Dahlia, but also know I really don’t like this.”
And with that, she walked away, giving Lucien a wide berth as she passed him.
He lowered his head and chuckled to himself. And then he came to me.
“Come, Dahlia,” he beckoned.
“Where are we going?” I inquired.
“Somewhere more private.”
My heart raced and my body immediately heated with desire. I was terrified, but so incredibly sexually excited. This man was going to be the death of me, I was sure of it.
But even that unsettling thought didn’t stop me from smiling and saying, “Let’s go.”
Maybe this man was capable of magic. Maybe he himself was filled with some kind of magical powers.
I wasn’t sure, and it all seemed kind of nutty, but I had no other explanation for how I was able to so willingly forget his dismissive treatment of me on the phone.
But forget it I did.
I allowed Lucien to lead me away from the throngs of people. I allowed him to guide me—my hand in his—to a private, closed-off part of the club where the music was nothing but a distant echo of bass beats.
“This is a much more private
spot for us to talk,” he murmured as he led me farther and farther away from any lingering people.
Talk… Somehow I had a feeling we’d not be doing much talking.
We walked up three winding sets of metal rungs, my high heels making little ting-tings along the way.
“Am I walking too quickly for you?” Lucien asked, concerned, it seemed, as he slowed to a stop.
When he turned to me, one step higher than where I stood, I glanced up at him.
Beautiful, I thought as I gazed into his deep brown eyes. Everything looked normal, at first, but then I saw beyond Lucien’s chiseled features, beyond his perfection. I saw myself reflected back to me in his gaze. And I knew then what he saw in me. I was what he ultimately wanted—innocence he’d corrupted.
As if on cue, the peaks of my breasts grew taut beneath the draped sequin material of my dress. “Are you doing this to me?” I inquired.
“No. Your reactions are your own.”
“And you approve.”
He nodded slowly, a smile curving one side of his mouth. “Yes, I approve.”
The skin exposed at the tops of my stockings, and below the hem of my dress, suddenly felt all tingly. I somehow knew that in Lucien’s eyes it looked creamy and inviting.
“Good enough to eat,” he whispered.
And it was then I felt too exposed. Damn, my dress was entirely too short. Why had I worn it?
But these were not my thoughts, these were thoughts Lucien was putting in my head to mess with me.
“Stop it,” I snapped.
“No,” he retorted.
His control was unwavering. His will was ironclad, and I was no match. Again, Lucien asked why I’d worn the dress. He asked his question from inside my head.
“I wore it for you,” I whispered, capitulating. “Part of me hoped you’d show up tonight. But you probably knew that already, right?”
No answer.
We were near the top of the steps, mere feet from the entrance to the private area to which he’d guided me. I thought we’d continue the rest of the way at this point, but we stayed where we were—Lucien one step above me.