Toxic Girl

by Chantal Fernando

  “Hey,” he says, looking down at me. “You sure you want to do this? I can wait—as long as you need.”

  “I’m sure,” I reply, sitting up and pulling my top and bra off. I almost laugh at the look on his face. His heavy lidded eyes are the definition of bedroom eyes, dark, deep and sensual.

  “So, so beautiful,” he murmurs, and I squirm a little as he licks his top lip, bringing his hands to my breasts, taking their heavy weight. His thumb swipes over one of my nipples, sending a shot of pleasure through me. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into me. He pulls back a little to take off his t-shirt, his muscles rippling with the motion.

  So. Fucking. Hot.

  His chuckle brings my gaze upwards to his mouth. He tilts his head and gives me a smile. Apparently, I said that out loud.

  I all but attack him.

  I sit up and capture his lips with mine, my tongue tasting his. His hands wander down my back to my ass, which he squeezes and slaps playfully. “No rush, Paris, we have all night,” he whispers into my ear, sending chills up my spine. He slowly unbuttons my jeans and pulls down the zipper. I lift my hips up and wiggle as he removes them, leaving me in nothing but my black panties. I wish I could say they were lace, instead of plain cotton, but the look in his eyes gives me the confidence I need. Taking his hand, I boldly slide it inside my panties.

  “Fuck,” he curses, and I smile in victory as he slides his finger through my wetness, making me gasp in pleasure. Kissing me passionately while his finger works magic, he sucks on my bottom lip, nipping at it before he moves his mouth lower, paying attention to my breasts with his tongue and mouth. I start to pant as he moves even lower, licking down my stomach, past my belly button. I like where this is heading. As he pulls off my panties and his mouth finds my centre, I can feel myself on the edge. I can tell it’s going to be explosive. I curse as the first wave of pleasure hits me, slamming my head back into the pillow and calling out Grayson’s name. He pins down my hips, holding me in place and prolonging my release. When I relax into the mattress, and my thighs stop shaking, he releases me and sits up. He kisses my knee gently and rubs my thigh comfortingly. I sigh when I look up and see the expression on his face.

  He looks a whole lot turned on and maybe even a little bit smug. But more than anything, his expression lets me know that there is no place he’d rather be right now.

  “I’m going to want to do that, a lot,” he announces, running one hand through his hair.

  My lip twitches. “I’m not going to argue with that.”

  He grins. “Good.”

  I grab the belt of his jeans and pull him so he’s lying on top of me. I can feel the hardness of his arousal through his jeans, causing me to make a humming noise in the back of my throat.

  “Take it off,” I command softly. He pulls back and does as I say. As he stands before me naked, I can’t do anything but gape. He is built perfectly, from his toned chest and rippling abs to his narrowed hips and strong thighs.

  “How are you real?” I ask, as I sit up on my knees for a closer inspection. Choked laughter is all I get in response. I lick my lips. “Tell me what you like,” I say, lifting my gaze to his. I’m a little nervous, but more than anything—I’m excited. I see his throat work as he swallows. I scoot closer to him. He’s standing at the edge of the bed, so I move off the bed, kneeling on the floor before him.

  “Fuck,” he says as he takes in my new position. I can tell he likes it—a hell of a lot. “Babe, are you sure—” he starts, but I cut him off by taking his hardness in my hand and stroking. Then, I lick the head, and suck on it a little, before sliding the length into my mouth.

  “Paris… fuck, fuck, fuck,” he curses as his hands gently tangle in my hair. “Just like that,” he encourages as I hollow my cheeks and take as much of him in my mouth as I can. I’m enjoying myself when he gently pulls me away, lifts me up, and carries me onto the bed. Now for the finale. Grayson starts chuckling again. I really need to stop voicing my thoughts during sex.

  “That turned you on,” he rasps into my ear. He makes an approving sound mixed with a groan.

  “What?” I ask breathlessly as he starts to play with my clit.

  “You’re dripping wet,” he explains, “all from going down on me. That’s so fucking hot, Paris.” He pulls away from me to grab a condom and slides it on. Then he’s back on me, gently sliding inside me.

  “You okay?” he asks in a low husky voice. I can tell he’s holding back, wanting to go gentle and slow.

  “Yes I’m fine, just fuck me already,” I say. He stills for a second, letting me adjust to his size before he pulls out and slides back in.

  “Not fucking, Paris—never with you,” he says before he kisses me. He pulls back for a moment and our eyes connect. His are full of wonder and lust. The way he looks at me makes me feel like the most precious thing in the world. I hope the look in my eyes lets him know that he’s everything to me, too. I lift my hips up and follow his rhythm as best as I can. Soon I can feel another orgasm cresting, and I dig my nails into his back as I climax. Grayson follows me soon after, his body jerking as he finishes. I stare at his face the whole time, watching the pleasure in his expression. I think I could get addicted to this moment.

  “I’m fine, Grayson. Better than fine,” I say quietly, before he can ask me.

  “Good. That was amazing, Paris,” he says, gently pushing away the hair on my slightly damp forehead. “The best.”

  “I have a great teacher,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows. He rolls his eyes at me, kissing me twice before heading to the bathroom to clean up. When he comes back with a wet cloth to clean me, I’m surprised by the sweet gesture.

  “Don’t get all shy on me now,” he says, as I squirm a little while he’s wiping me. I put a pillow over my face, earning me a chuckle. He leaves again, sliding in beside me when he returns seconds later. Pulling me into his arms, I put my head on his chest and my leg on his thigh.

  “Guess what,” he says after a few moments.

  “What?”

  “You just became mine.”

  I smile into his chest.

  Chapter Twelve

  I roll my eyes when T- Pain’s “I’m In Love With A Stripper” plays next. The crowd still goes wild over this song. I swirl around on the pole, spreading my legs wide, before stopping to seductively remove my top. I’m wearing a pink leather top that zips up at the front, so it’s easy to remove. I’m all about convenience. When I woke up this morning, I made a decision. I’m quitting Toxic. There is no way I can be a Toxic Girl and have Grayson, so something has to give. I’ll have to think of something else to pay off the debt. I’m wondering how much people are paying for organs on the black market these days when the song changes to “Drunk In Love” by Beyoncé; I slow down my moves, grinding on the pole in time with the music.

  By the time my shift is over, I’m exhausted. I get changed, scrub my makeup off, grab my bag, and call a cab. One of the bouncers waits outside with me, making sure I get in safely.

  “Thanks,” I call out to him before I close the door. It takes me fifteen minutes to get home. Anaya is at her boyfriend’s, so the house is empty. I take a long bath, relaxing my body, and then I get into my pyjamas. Around three am, I finally fall asleep.

  *****

  “How many more hours are you going to spend here?” Grayson whispers to me, taking the empty seat next to me. I shiver a little as his warm breath blows on my ear.

  “Just another hour or so,” I say, closing the textbook I was reading and moving on to the next one. He looks around the library, taking in its near vacant state.

  “Does anyone even come here anymore?” he asks dryly, looking vaguely amused with his brows raised.

  “Yes,” I say. “They do. Me for example.”

  “Yeah but… you’re weird,” he says, leaning over and kissing me chastely on the lips.

  I close the book. “I’m not going to get any work done with you here, am I?” I ask, fig
hting a smile.

  He grins wolfishly. “I have a surprise for you. I’m a little impatient.”

  I instantly perk up. “A surprise?”

  “Yes, a surprise.”

  I grab my books and stand up. “What are we waiting for then?”

  He chuckles and takes my books from me, carrying them in one hand and taking my hand in the other. We exit the library and get into his car, and then drive straight to his house.

  “Exactly what kind of surprise is this?” I ask as we walk to his front door, suspicion lacing my tone.

  He looks at my face and starts laughing. “What’s going through your head right now?”

  I look down at his crotch area and wiggle my eyebrows. He laughs even harder. I roll my eyes and pry the keys out of his fingers, unlocking his front door and walking in. I can still hear him laughing at the front door. Idiot. I walk into the dining room, and my breath hitches. He’s put candles, fancy plates, glasses, and cutlery out. A huge bouquet of red roses stands in the centre, with a card addressed to me. I smell the roses before opening the card. It only has two words written on there, in his messy, scribbled handwriting.

  Just because.

  “Just because what?” I ask aloud, playing with a rose bud.

  “Just because I wanted to show you how much you mean to me,” he says from behind me. I turn to face him. “I don’t need a special occasion to show you that.”

  I smile. “I love the roses, thank you.”

  He returns my smile, walking toward me and pulling out a chair. “Sit, please,” he says. I do as I’m told, sitting down while he lights the candles. He goes into the kitchen, returning with two plates filled with food, and places them in the centre. He returns to the kitchen and comes back in with another two bowls.

  “Feeding an army?” I ask playfully, peering into the dishes.

  He grins down at me. “Just wanted to make sure there were things you like.”

  “Did you cook this?” I ask, my mouth watering at the roast chicken.

  “Maybe,” he replies, kissing me on top of my head. He brings out a bottle of wine and pours me a glass. Red—my favourite.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome,” he replies, sitting down next to me.

  “I feel really fancy right now,” I say, earning me another amused look. I wink at him and watch as he serves my plate first, asking me what I want, before serving his. The meal is delicious. Afterwards, I help him clean up, ignoring his protests, and we sit on the couch and share some cookies and cream ice cream, eating straight out of the tub with two spoons.

  Best date I’ve ever had.

  *****

  “What time do you finish work tomorrow night?” Grayson asks me the next week, lifting me onto his lap. I wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “I thought I’d come and pick you up. You can stay the night at my house,” he says as he nuzzles my neck. Pick me up? Yeah, I don’t think that will go down well.

  “I’ll come to yours after if you like,” I say. He studies me, his eyes narrowing. He knows something isn’t right. I know that he knows something isn’t right. I’ve decided to work for one more week before I tell the boss I’m quitting. I really need the money right now, and I’m trying to save every cent. It also gives time for my boss to find a new girl to take my place.

  “You want to tell me what’s going on?” he asks. His tone is light, but his eyes say otherwise.

  “Nothing is going on,” I say quickly. Maybe even a little too quickly.

  He sighs. “Why won’t you let me in?”

  “I’ve let you in,” I scoff.

  His lips tighten in displeasure. “You’re still keeping things from me.”

  “Can we just enjoy the evening, please?” I ask, looking around the bar we’re at. The place is packed, and at some fancy hotel. Apparently, Grayson comes here all the time, because he keeps stopping to say hello to people.

  “Fine, but this conversation isn’t over,” he says, kissing me on the nose.

  “I couldn’t be that lucky,” I mutter back. He cradles my face and kisses me, a kiss much too hot for public. “Gray,” I pant.

  His eyes warm. “I like you calling me that.”

  “Good,” I reply, staring at his lips.

  “Do you want another drink?” he asks.

  I look down at my now empty vodka orange and nod. “Yes, please,” I tell him. As he orders me another drink, I see someone walking up to us.

  “Grayson,” she says, batting her lashes. I recognise her as Dylan—the girl whose house the party was at. I don’t miss the way that Grayson stiffens a little at her presence.

  “Dylan,” he says, nodding his head at her. “Have you met Paris?”

  “No, I haven’t,” she says, smirking. What the hell is her problem? Grayson puts his arm around me and squeezes gently.

  “Paris, this is Dylan,” he says, handing me my drink.

  “Hi,” I say, bringing the glass to my lips.

  She raises a finely arched brow. “So you’re the one hogging all of Grayson’s time.”

  “Dylan,” Grayson snaps, the warning in his tone unmistakable. My eyes dart between the two of them.

  “So how do the two of you know each other?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even.

  “Family friend,” Grayson replies at the same time Dylan says, “We used to date.”

  Silence.

  “Well, isn’t that… awkward,” I add when no one says anything. I down my drink in two gulps and place the empty glass down on the table. Grabbing my clutch off the table, I stand up, getting off Grayson’s lap. He follows suit, standing and leading me out to his car, leaving Dylan standing there alone.

  “She’s your ex? I knew you weren’t a saint before you met me, but why lie about it?” I ask as soon as we get into the car.

  “I didn’t want you to get upset,” he says, starting the engine.

  “Lying upsets me!” I snap, looking out the window.

  He sighs. “Our dads work together. I’ve known her for years. She’s really good friends with my sister.”

  “Did you sleep with her?” I ask, already knowing the answer. No woman gets that look of possession in her eyes without having a taste. I look over at him to see a tick in his jaw and know that’s my answer.

  “Yes,” he replies reluctantly, “but it never meant anything.”

  “And now?”

  “And now we’re just friends. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Paris,” he says, looking over at me.

  “Sorry you didn’t tell me or sorry you got caught lying?” I ask, my voice breaking.

  “Fuck,” Grayson says, pulling over onto the side of the road. He turns to face me, his eyes full of worry and panic. “She doesn’t mean anything to me. You do. You mean everything. You can’t hold my past against me, Paris.”

  “You’re right, I can’t. But I expect you to be honest with me,” I tell him. I’ve been honest with him about everything… except that one thing. I push that thought out of my mind. I’ll have to deal with that later. And face the consequences too. Fuck, I’m the biggest hypocrite.

  “Look, I slept with a fair few girls before we started dating. I’m not exactly proud, but I’m not sorry either, because it was before you. I am sorry I didn’t tell you, and you had to find out like that. And that is me being honest.”

  “Okay,” I say, flicking the polish off my nails. What the hell else can I say? I’m not being honest with him either. This relationship is doomed for failure once the truth comes out.

  “Hey,” he says gently, reaching out and taking my hand into his. “Are we okay?”

  I look down at our threaded hands. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

  But I don’t know if that is the truth.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I stare at my reflection, wondering for the third time if what I’m wearing is okay.

  “You look amazing,” Grayson says, staring at me with heat in his eyes.
I smooth down my black dress, hoping that he’s right.

  “I’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents before¸” I say, puffing out a breath. I pat my lips together, staring at the pink lipstick I chose today.

  “They will love you,” he says, putting his big hands on my shoulders. “Leah can’t make it though, so it will just be my mum, dad, and the two of us.”

  “Where are we meeting them again?” I ask as I walk into my bedroom, sitting down on my bed.

  “The hotel where I work,” he says. He’s taken me there before, Windmills, it’s called.

  “Why would we be meeting them there?” I ask, frowning. His dark eyes sparkle, and his dimples make an appearance.

  “Because my dad owns the hotel.”

  I gape. “You never told me that.” Wait, his father owns the whole hotel chain? Great, I’m on my way to meet his millionaire parents. Me. A stripper. Wonderful, just fucking wonderful. I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. I knew he was well off. I mean he does have his own house and a nice car and motorcycle. But I didn’t think he was that rich, or at least that his family was.

  “I thought you knew,” he pauses. “Everyone knows.”

  “Not me apparently,” I mutter. Not like I talk to many people. Just Grayson and Anaya. And some of the girls at Toxic.

  “At least I know you’re not with me for my money,” he jokes. I stand up and swat him on the shoulder.

  “Not funny, Gray,” I tell him. “No wonder you knew everyone when we went to the hotel bar. And to think I just thought you were popular.”

  He smirks at me. “Nope, not popular. Just the boss’s son.”

  “Ha, I doubt that,” I say, putting both my hands on his chest. He encases me in his arms, and I breathe in his delicious scent. Maybe we could stay here in bed instead?

  “It will be fine. It’s just dinner,” he says, rubbing his warm hands down my back.

  “Is this going to be one of those dinners where there are four different forks, and I’m not going to know which one to use?” I ask grumpily. I feel his body shake with silent laughter. Glad I can be so amusing.