by Reed, Zelda
The silver tag was cool against my chest, the collar tight enough to be felt but loose enough that I didn’t feel like I was choking.
“Now,” he said, his fingers dropping to the tag, his thumb rubbing against the name engraved there. “Who do you belong to?”
My throat ran dry, words slowly climbing out of my throat. “You.”
His lips curled into themselves, teeth shining in the dark. He leaned in close, our mouths centimeters apart. “Of course you do.”
One hand traveled into my hair, gripping a chunk at the middle of my skull before he yanked my head back. Within seconds his lips were below my ear, teeth grazing against my skin.
I was frozen in front of him. My fingers laced tighter in front of me, like a good girl told not to move by her teacher.
He growled before licking up to my ear, whispering lowly, “At least for tonight.”
But this story isn’t about Dan.
Six
When I returned to the office I could barely look Chace in the eye.
He was waiting for me, dressed in nothing but his undershirt and boxers, his wet clothes tossed carelessly in the corner as he cradled his cell phone between his right ear and shoulder, both hands occupied with typing furiously on his computer. He barely looked up when I opened the door, waving me in furiously, his mouth running a mile per minute.
“I don’t care what you have to do, just make sure she stays quiet.”
The masculine groan on the other end of the line belonged to Jonah, his older brother and manager, who always put out Chace’s public fires. Chace probably called him the minute he stepped back into his office, begging him to control whatever backlash he would receive once Jennifer went to the press.
I hung the garment bag on the coat rack near the bookshelf, silver and obscenely modern like everything else in his office. I placed his shirt and tie on the other side of the computer. He only acknowledged me to wave me out of his office.
That was typical of him, the scarce eye contact as he focused on multiple tasks at a time, but I couldn’t stop staring at him. I was frozen on the spot, hands clasped nervously in front of me as he stood from his desk, bare legs covered in dark hair, briefs clinging to his hips. My eyes wandered straight between his legs where I could see the faint outline of his cock.
What was I doing? I thought to myself, trying to mentally will my feet to move but I remained right where I was.
I’d never seen Chace shirtless, not even in the early hours of a Saturday morning where he would call and demand breakfast from the diner on the corner of my street. He would always answer the door in a robe pulled tight across his body, hiding everything but his ankles and feet. Even in the photos where he and his family were grinning on his father’s boat, he was wearing a t-shirt or a button down. I always assumed he was in shape but there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, his hip bones sharply cutting into his briefs, well-defined pectorals sitting up on his chest, dark hair traveling down to his navel.
He picked up the shirt I’d brought him and his eyebrows furrowed. “Hold on, hold on, hold on,” he said into the phone. He looked at me. “Where’s the undershirt?”
I was staring at the sharp line of his jaw, before I said, “What?”
He threw his shirt at me, my vision a blob of white before I carefully removed it from my face. “Did you forget my undershirt?”
Shit. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as I slowly nodded. “I’m sorry. I can run back and get it.”
He shook his head. “No,” he said, ripping open the garment bag and tugging out his pants. “I don’t have time.” He tugged on his pants, the creases ruined in his carelessness. “I’ll just walk around with without it,” he snatched the shirt away from me and shoved his arms through the holes.
Chace was fuming, the heat of his anger radiating off of him, but that didn’t stop me from staring at his body. He was steps away, close enough for me to smell his cologne, close enough to survey if Jennifer left any marks on his skin - from her teeth, her nails, or a collar of his own.
“She’d fucking love that,” he said into the phone, turning away from me as he buttoned up his shirt and slid on his tie.
I said, “I’m so sorry. Do you need anything else?”
His eyes narrowed. For a second I imagined him telling me to strip off my clothes and get on my hands knees, to crawl around the office and pick up each and every speck of dirt from the floor as he watched from his desk, growing hard in his pants.
“No,” he said, his eyes narrowing towards me. “I’ve had enough of your incompetence today.”
Seven
I crawled into bed the minute my sister left for work. The clock on my nightstand read 9:30 but I could’ve sworn it was much later.
Chace’s way of punishing me whenever I did something wrong was to ignore me for the day. With no tasks to complete and no novels to edit, I sat at my desk staring at my computer screen and trying not to check my phone. Brownsfan6 sent a slew of messages I couldn’t check until I got off, all of them concerning his excitement for this weekend and how he couldn’t wait to see how beautiful I was, how he would be hard-pressed to invite me over to his place to show him some yoga moves.
I messaged back: A little forward aren’t we?
Lying in bed I tried to imagine brownsfan6, his broad shoulders pressed against my mattress, his large hands and thick fingers trailing down my arms, until they wrapped around my hips. My hands would grip his thighs as I rolled my hips down onto his cock.
I crossed my legs and turned away from my clock, my fingertips tingling as I dipped them inside of my pajama shorts.
My eyes slipped closed as I imagined his tanned chest rising and falling in time with his breaths, full lips parted open to release a moan as I took him in deeper. The lights in my bedroom would be on, a soft yellow glow bathing the pair of us as I leaned forward and captured his lips with mine. His arms would wrap around my back, forcing our chests together. Trapped between his arms and his chest, my lips would fall open as he bucked his hips, fucking me faster than I could ever ride him, his cock sliding in and out of me, the sound of our skin slapping together filling the room.
My fingers dipped inside of my underwear, feeling around until they pressed against my clit, already wet from my fantasy. My mouth parted to let out a quiet moan as I rolled my finger in a small circle. My mind narrowed on the image of sweat rolling off of brownsfan6’s chest and mixing with my own.
Like a flick of the light, I was no longer surrounded by the smell or sound of an imaginary man. The tan skin below lightened to a pleasant cream, the black hair turned brown, and his broad chest covered in hair as brownsfan6 transformed into Chace.
A gasp ruffled through me as Chace flipped me over, his arms wrapped around my middle, his cock never leaving inside of me. Looming over me I was forced to focus on his glittering green eyes, darker than I'd ever seen them. Clouded with mischief and pleasure he leaned down, the tips of our noses brushing together. Desperate for him to keep fucking me, I pushed my hips up but he pinned me against the mattress.
"Did I tell you, you could move?" he growled, voice deep enough to send a shiver through me.
"No," I whimpered.
His lips spread across his face, a wicked smirk tugging at the corners as his fingertips curled into my skin, his nails carving half-moon dents into my hips.
"I've learned something about you," he said, his lips hovering over mine. "You don't take direction well." His hand flew from my hip, fingers pressing together and straightening out before he spanked the outside of my thigh. My back arched up from the mattress in surprise, a small scream ripping from my stomach.
Chace laughed wickedly before he said, "Quiet now, you wouldn't want to wake the children."
My eyes popped open.
My fingers rested on the inside of my underwear, pressed against myself and soaking wet. Wrapped up in my fantasy I hadn't noticed a thin film of sweat building again
st my skin, my breath quickening with each movement. I was so close to orgasm but I couldn't bring myself there.
One of the twins started to cry. Immediately I was up and on my feet.
Drowsy and exhausted I ran to the bathroom to wash my hands. Standing in front of the sink, the other twin began to cry. I scrubbed my hands faster, glancing up at my flushed face, my sweat slick hair stuck to my forehead. I looked fucked out even though I was the only one touching myself.
I shook my head. I was going to have to get over this thing to face Chace tomorrow.
Eight
“No one cares,” Jonah said as the two of us sat across from Chace’s desk. Me, gripping my notepad and trying not to meet my boss’s eyes, Jonah, resting comfortably against his chair. “Tell him nobody cares,” he said to me.
My throat instantly ran dry.
I’d been avoiding Chace’s gaze since I stepped into the office, head ducked down as I threw myself into my work. Emails were responded to the minute they appeared in my inbox, coffee was waiting for Chace before he strolled into the office. My cell phone had been buzzing all morning but I ignored brownsfan6, not wanting another fantasy to flare up while I was at work.
My plan to ignore Chace all day was flushed down the toilet the minute Jonah arrived and I was called in to take notes for their impromptu meeting.
Chace glared at me, his hands folded beneath his chin as he awaited my answer.
I glanced at him, my eyes widening. I quickly looked away.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Jonah said, waving his hand. “Tell him no one gives a shit about what used to be his relationship with Jennifer.”
I looked back at Chace, his jaw tightening impatiently.
“I…” I shut my mouth, my words catching in my throat. “I don’t think a lot of people care.”
From the back of his throat Chace released a growl and the sound scratched against my skin. Sharp, guttural, and animalist, I imagined him behind me, growling as he thrust inside. I pulled my lips into my mouth and crossed my legs to stop the throbbing.
Chace pulled a thin stack of magazines from his briefcase and tossed them on his desk. US Weekly, People Magazine, In Touch. Jennifer was on the cover of all of them, her blond hair pulled into a high ponytail, sunglasses resting against her nose, as bold headlines read: “Jennifer Mitchel: Done With Her Cheating Boyfriend”?
Jonah’s eyebrows furrowed. He flipped through a magazine, stopping at two-page article on Jennifer before he said, “They name you once. Why the hell are you freaking out again?”
Chace stared at him. A flush of anger spread across his cheeks and his temples. “Why the fuck am I freaking out?” he said, voice dangerously low as he leaned across his desk.
“Yeah,” Jonah said, throwing the magazine back on his desk. “Enlighten me.”
Chace stood up. His hands balled at his sides and shoulders defiantly pushed back, he wandered towards the window. I could almost hear them, the vultures with cameras, craning their necks up, shouldering their telephoto lenses, snapping photos of a pissed off Chace who turned his back to them.
“I’ve had cameramen following me around since last night and if there’s one thing I value it’s my privacy. You know that,” he said to Jonah.
His brother sighed. “You should’ve thought about that before you cheated on an actress.”
“I told you, I didn’t fucking cheat on her,” Chace snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Jonah shook his head. He didn’t believe Chace and there was a large part of me that didn’t believe him either. Chace was notorious for flirting with beautiful women. Even when he was attached he couldn’t stop himself from pushing their hair behind their ears, or throwing an arm around their waists, or slowly backing them into a corner where no photographer could catch him planting a kiss to the corner of their mouths.
“Yeah, well, that’s what she and the rest of the world believes. You want to change their minds? Let me issue a statement.”
Chace shook his head. “I have a better idea. How about you get a restraining order for every one of those cameramen out there?”
Jonah laughed. “You know how long that’ll take? Years.”
Chace turned away from us. He roamed towards a bookshelf in the corner, the second row of books adorned with his name on the spine. First editions that were worth thousands now.
“How about this?” Jonah said, voice softening. “You find a way to patch things up with Jennifer and in about two weeks, no one will care anymore.”
“I thought you said no one cared now,” Chace said, his voice smaller than I’d ever heard it.
“I was just trying to make you feel better,” Jonah admitted before standing. “But you wanna know the truth?”
Chace glanced over his shoulder.
“Jennifer gets a new boyfriend and the tabloids are gonna follow you for at least a month. They’re gonna hound you with questions about how you feel about him, how could you cheat on America’s sweetheart, etc. You make it up to her? You get her to say she was overreacting. That you would never cheat and that she loves you. All that jazz.”
For a moment Chace’s office filled with silence. Jonah placed his hands in his pockets as Chace removed his.
“What if I don’t want to get back together with her?”
Jonah twisted up his face. “What? Why? You fucking someone else?” Chace didn’t respond. “I thought you said you weren’t cheating.”
Chace looked behind Jonah. Our eyes met and my palms began to sweat as he stared me down. “Alice, go get us some lunch from that place I like on seventh.”
I scribbled a quick note and stood. “I’ll call in an order immediately.”
“No. You won’t,” Chace said, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. “You’ll order when you get there and you’ll walk back.”
I glanced at Jonah as if he would tell me any different but he only said, “Three California rolls,” before taking his seat.
I forced a smile and nodded before walking out the room.
***
As I exited the office, the New York summer air splashing against my face, I couldn’t help but be angry at myself. Angry that I had allowed an ounce of sympathy for Chace to sweep beneath my skin, angry for entertaining any sort of fantasy about that man. He was vile and any touch from him should make me shudder, not whimper in pleasure like an uncontrollable virgin.
I pushed past the thick crowd of paparazzi, all of them lazily encircling the building. Once I was a healthy distance away I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the messages from brownsfan6, all of them growing shorter the longer I didn’t answer.
I’m sorry I missed you. Busy day. Are we still on for tomorrow?
I continually glanced at my phone until I was a block away from the restaurant. There was no response.
***
Brownsfan6 didn’t respond until I was on my way home, the subway rolling beneath my feet, two pairs of sweat slick arms pressed against mine. I almost didn’t feel it, the vibration in my purse.
I couldn’t contain the smile when I saw his message pop up on the screen.
One word: Sure.
Nine
I could barely remember the last time I was on a proper date. One where nerves sprung up in my stomach days before, my fingers twitching at the thought of sitting across from him in a restaurant, my bottom lip pulled between my teeth as I tried to conjure up every possible conversational scenario.
It might've been in college or maybe before that. At NYU none of us had time for dates. Only quick outings where groups of friends intermixed around bowls of alcohol before pairing off into corners where our mouths met lips, necks, and below the belt.
Before the kids Laura was the dating type. Her schedule was full of handsome but troubled men who took her to three-star restaurants before leading her into the back room where illegal poker games or cock fights were being held. She loved the idea of men knocking on h
er door, paying her cab fare and kissing her goodnight. She loved the hoopla of finding the perfect dress, of shaving until there wasn't a hair left on her body, of trying to guess the type of condoms they liked. She was normal that way, trying out different men like shoes to a foot, searching aimlessly for the perfect match.
There were times I wished I had her passion for love, instead of being the sex crazed woman I was.
She fussed over my hair as we stood in my bedroom, her toes pressed against the back of my feet as her fingers raked through hot, tight curls. With every tug of her fingers she loosened them, my hair falling from regal to sexy in minutes. I'd planned to wear something black but she slapped the ankle-length dress out of my hand and handed me her lucky red dress. It fell just above my knee, cotton fabric hugging every curve, a scoop neck top revealing the very top of my pushed up breasts.
"I look like a hooker," I said, pressing my glossed lips together, eyes winged with black eyeliner.
Laura patted my shoulders. "No you don't, you look classy and sexy. Nick's gonna want to jump you the second he sees you."
Nick was the name brownsfan6 told me the table would be under and it had been looping through my head all day. I told him my name was Veronica and as I looked over myself in the mirror, I certainly felt more like a Veronica than an Alice.
Alice was too busy entertaining inappropriate thoughts about her boss, pressing her back against the showers as she opened her legs and slid her fingers inside of herself. Alice laid awake and tried to get the image of his hands wrapping around her neck out of her mind. But Veronica could think of nothing but Nick.
I was slipping on my heels when Laura spun around and said, “Don’t worry if I’m not here when you get back.” A small grin spread across her mouth. “I’ve got a date.”
My eyebrows raised in surprise. “And you’re just telling me this now?”