by B. B. Hamel
That finally gets the reaction I want. She blushes slightly and looks down at the table. “So you bought me just because you want to sleep with me.”
“Not entirely, no,” I say. “That’s part of it. I want to undress you and make you experience things those rich little prep school assholes could never do.” She stares at me and bites her lip, and I know I’m right about that. “I also thought you’d be different from those other stuck-up rich girls up there. I didn’t plan on bidding at all, but as soon as you stepped out, I couldn’t help myself.”
She watches me quietly for a second. Her face sets into a mask of distant anger, but I like that about her. She looks a little defiant, and it wouldn’t be any fun if she didn’t put up a little fight.
But I saw it already. I saw that look on her face, while she was trying to decide how to respond. It was desire, clear and plain as day. She’s still an upper crust rich girl and she has to put up a front. She can’t just give in to what she wants.
Not at first, at least.
“What was it about me that interested you so much? Aside from your crude thoughts.”
I smirk and shrug. “You know how it can be. Girls like you have a certain way.”
“Girls like me?”
I sip my whisky. “Rich girls.”
“I see. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?”
“How can it not? It’s what you are.”
“So that makes you a poor boy.” She arches an eyebrow.
“I guess so,” I say.
“You poor, poor boy.”
I laugh softly. “Not at all. I love where I come from.”
“So do I.” She crosses her arms a little.
I laugh again and watch her. I can tell that she’s annoyed by the assumptions I’ve made about her, and I can’t blame her. But the thing is, I know I’m right.
Fortunately, we don’t have to get too into it. The waitress comes and takes our orders, breaking the tension. I feel a little guilty, but I couldn’t help myself. She was practically begging for it, and the look on her face was priceless.
I’ll have to make it up to her, though.
“I kissed my first girl in this restaurant,” I say to her once the waitress leaves.
“Did you have to pay her half a million dollars?”
I grin at her. “Fair enough, I deserved that. Do you want to hear the story?”
“Fine.”
I can tell she’s annoyed, but this story always loosens people up. “I was thirteen years old, just a young man. Didn’t know a thing about girls.”
“You weren’t always this smooth talker?” she asks, smiling slightly.
“Believe it or not. Back then, there was this gorgeous girl, lived down the street from me, Becky Carmichael. God, I loved Becky so much I could barely breathe. You know how that can be, when you’re young. It’s the most intense feeling in the world.”
She smiles slightly and nods. “You’re almost stupid for it.”
“You think it’s the most important thing in the world.”
She laughs a little. “I felt that way for Robert Smith.”
I pause. “The guy from The Cure.”
She cocks her head. “The what?”
“Never mind.”
“He was a boy that went to my school. Couldn’t get enough of him. Long eyelashes.”
I grin at her. “Sounds like my Becky. Anyway, one night, my best friend Jimmy tells her that I have a crush on her, and dares her to kiss me. For whatever reason, she agrees, and we all meet in the back of this place, over by the bathrooms just out there.” I gesture toward the main room.
“Did you kiss her?” she asks.
“I did,” I say. “And it was the most incredible thing. Didn’t know what I was doing, but I was doing it. And as the kiss was ending, I heard a click and a laugh, and when I looked over, it was Jimmy, holding his father’s camera.”
“He didn’t!” Sadie says, laughing.
“He did,” I confirm. “And he got it developed and gave it to me years later. And I still have that picture.”
“No way,” she says, laughing.
“I do, I swear it. I’ll show you one day.”
“Okay then,” she says, shaking her head and smiling. “That’s a good story.”
“Your turn now,” I say, leaning back and sipping my drink. “Tell me about your first kiss.”
She laughs a little. “No way. It’s embarrassing.”
“Can’t be more embarrassing than mine. Besides, I bet you were a little flirt back then.”
“Hardly.” She smiles and fingers her wine glass. “I didn’t kiss a boy until I was sixteen.”
“Really?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Hard sometimes, being in my family.” She gets a little quiet and doesn’t elaborate.
I don’t push her. I get a glimpse of those depths again. I know there’s more to her than what’s on the surface, and I want to get to know her, but I know I have to be a little more delicate.
Our meals come soon and we fall into more comfortable small talk about our lives. She tells me about growing up with her family and going to school, and I tell her about what this neighborhood was like when I was young. We laugh a lot and things are surprisingly comfortable. The tension is still there, lingering beneath the surface, but she quickly loosens up and I can tell she forgets all about being annoyed.
Soon, our meals are finished, and we’re leaning back, stuffed to the brim.
“What did you think?” I ask her. “Best food ever, right?”
She nods. “And enough to feed a horse.”
“Easily. Two horses, I bet.”
She grins. “I like it here.”
“I’m glad. I love this place.”
I’m about to ask her something else about her life when suddenly the door opens. I’m expecting the waitress, but instead it’s a man I don’t recognize, tall and thin, wearing a suit and an overcoat.
Sadie turns to look at him. “Reginald?” she asks. “What are you doing here?”
“Excuse me, Miss Sadie, but it’s time.” He nods at his watch.
She narrows her eyes. “We just finished. We’re having a nice time.”
I feel a thrill run through me.
“I’m sorry, Miss Sadie,” Reginald says. “But your parents expect you promptly at ten.”
She looks surprised. “It’s that late already?”
Reginald nods. I check my watch, and sure enough, two hours slipped past without us realizing.
“Well, then,” I say, knowing when it’s time to let things take their course. “We should say good night.”
She nods and stands up. I can tell she wants to say something, but I don’t give her the chance.
“I had fun,” I say.
“Thanks,” she says awkwardly. We’re both aware of Reginald watching, his disapproving stare making her squirm a little.
I just ignore him. “Call me sometime. I had a good time.”
“Okay,” she says, pausing. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
She glances back at me as Reginald sweeps her away, taking her out of the room. I watch her leave and feel disappointed. It doesn’t occur to me until she’s gone that I never gave her my number.
I don’t know what I expected. That date went well, very well. I couldn’t have hoped for more, not on a first date, let alone one chaperoned by her family driver.
Still, I wanted more. I wanted to bend her over that table and fuck her goddamn brains out. She’s so uptight but I can see the freak underneath that fake classy exterior. I know she wants it as much as I do, but her breeding and the way she was raised is holding her back.
I’ll break that, though. I know she’ll call. She’s too fascinated by what I said earlier, even if it did make her a little mad. She’s never been talked to that way before, but she wants more.
I’m willing to give it to her. But I have to be patient. She’ll come to me, sooner or later. And if she doesn’t, I’ll find a way t
o get what I want.
4
Sadie
Breakfast in the Tillman household is practically a spiritual thing.
I wake up early, my mind still buzzing over my date the night before. I blink at the weak morning light filtering in through the gauzy white curtains and sit up. My bed is huge, a four-poster, probably an antique. I’ve been sleeping in it since I was a kid, and I suspect that my mother gave it to me as some kind of princess fantasy fulfillment for herself.
I love my little corner of our apartment. I have my big beautiful bed, my little desk with my laptop, my dresser, and a deep walk-in closet. I don’t have a television, because that stuff can rot my brain, according to my father, but that doesn’t matter. I spend most of my time in here, because there’s one more special thing that I love even more than everything else.
I get up and stretch, then head into my closet to throw some clothes on. I turn on the light and grab some sweats and a t-shirt before turning to the other side of the closet.
The wall is covered with shelves, and the shelves are full of books. It’s basically my own little library. My father converted my closet into half a bookshelf when I was younger and he realized that I loved reading. So half of my closet has all my clothes, and the other half has all my books, and it’s basically heaven. There’s a big, thick cushion on the floor in the back left corner and some candles sitting on the shelves. Sometimes, I come in here and light the candles and leave only a single weak lamp on as I curl up in my little nook and read.
I smile to myself as I head down toward the kitchen. Our apartment takes up two whole floors in a nice building right downtown, and it’s been in our family forever. The place looks like it was decorated in another century, because it really was. Old oil paintings hang on the walls and they sometimes clash with the more modern flourishes my father has put in place since he inherited the family home.
I pause at the top of the steps. I can hear voices downstairs, my family all sitting down at the table to eat. I think back to my date with Gavin and I can’t help but smile.
I got a glimpse into his life, the kind of glimpse I never expected to get. I didn’t know what to think about him at first. He’s intimidating and intense, but I was never worried about him, not like my parents were. They sent Reginald along to make sure that he didn’t get me into any trouble, and obviously Reginald had some strict orders to make sure that I came home right after dinner.
But I never felt out of place with Gavin. We were in his old neighborhood, basically his old home, but I didn’t feel like I didn’t belong. He did his best to tell me stories from his past, and our conversation flowed so easily.
There was only one moment that struck me a little bit. When he was so forward with me, telling me what he wanted, I felt a thrill run down my spine. I couldn’t let him see that I liked it, that I wanted him to keep going, to tell me all the dirty things he wants to do to me. I couldn’t let him see that, because I don’t really know. I’m nervous to go there.
I’m a virgin. I’ve never had sex before. I don’t have that kind of experience, not the kind of experience that Gavin clearly has.
But he makes me want to learn, even if that’s very wrong.
I head down the steps, trying to forget about Gavin. I don’t think I’ll ever see him again. I could probably find him again, see him at some social function, or maybe track him down another way. But my parents would never allow it, and they’d do anything they can to keep me away from him. Truth is, I’ve spent so long under the control of my family that I don’t know how to go against their wishes, even for something that I actually want.
The smell of breakfast wafts into my nose, delicious and bright. I can’t help but smile. Our cook, Betty, is one of the best people in the whole world, and she always makes me an extra pancake with M&Ms in it.
The dining room is the third room on the left. It’s connected to the kitchen. There’s a long table against the far wall with a buffet-style setup, like every morning, and a couple staff members stand quietly against the back wall. One of them, Thomas, gives me a little wink, and I smile back at him. Thomas is one of my favorite staff members.
It’s weird to live in a house that’s more like a hotel. We have people that work for us, who cook and clean and take care of things for us. I didn’t realize that was strange when I was a little girl. I assumed everyone had that in their homes.
But I know better now. My life is far from ordinary, and sometimes I don’t like that. Sometimes I wish I knew how normal people lived. I want to know what it’s like to have real responsibility and not endless privilege.
“Good morning.” I look over and spot my father, sitting in his normal position, looking at me. Peter is sitting to my father’s left, not paying attention to anything around him. Michael is to his right, reading the paper, and my mother is nowhere to be seen.
“Good morning,” I say absently. I grab a plate and get my food and a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” Peter says as I sit down next to him. He pauses then turns to me, eyes wide. “How was your date?” He seems excited, a little smile on his face.
I can already sense my father’s disapproving glare. “It was fine,” I say, turning to my food, but Peter doesn’t take the hint.
“Come on, tell me about it. Where did he take you?”
I pause, willing myself not to look at father or Michael, though they’re both watching me now.
“A place in his old neighborhood,” I say. “Luberto’s.”
“Was it nice?” Peter asks.
“Not really,” I say. “But it also was. It was a local place, very family-oriented, and he’s clearly been there a lot—“
My father interrupts you. “I’m not surprised he took you to a place like that.”
The table falls silent and I look over at my father. “It was nice,” I say.
“It’s probably dangerous.” He makes a face. “Filthy, trash-ridden, and unsanitary. You should never have been set up with a man like that.”
“It was for charity,” I say softly.
“Father is right,” Michael says, his gaze cold. “Gavin Waller has a bad reputation. It’s good Reginald was with you.”
I frown a little bit. I don’t know much about Gavin’s reputation, but I do know that my father dislikes anyone who wasn’t born with a silver spoon in their mouth.
“Gavin was a gentleman,” I say.
“Your brother is right,” father says. “Gavin is no good for you. I’m glad that debacle is all over with.” He turns back to his food with a satisfied smile on his face.
I glance down at my plate and suddenly feel anger welling up inside of me. I don’t know how many times my brother and father have told me how I need to live my life, how I need to behave and not embarrass them. I’m sick of them treating me like I’m some little girl still.
“I’m not hungry,” I say, pushing my plate away.
“Sadie,” Peter says, but I just ignore him.
I turn and leave the dining room. My father and Michael don’t say anything to stop me. They probably just think I’m being hysterical or emotional.
Maybe I am, but I’m angry. I’m so tired of them treating me like a little girl.
I hurry back to my room and shut the door softly. I sigh and head into my closet, curling up in my little nook with my laptop.
I spend the rest of the morning searching for information on Gavin Waller. There’s not a whole lot out there, but I quickly come to understand what his reputation is.
He’s a notorious playboy. He’s never been married, but apparently he has been with every high society woman in the city, and he never settles for long. He’s filthy rich and handsome, of course, but he doesn’t seem interested in anything longterm. He doesn’t seem interested in a family.
I sigh, leaning against the wall. I don’t even know if I want a family, although of course that’s expected of me. I’m supposed to marry a guy like Milo and breed little blue-blood babies with him until the d
ay that I die. Somehow, that life doesn’t sound very rewarding.
But Gavin seems real somehow, more real than Milo or my parents. I’ve barely had a taste of him, but I’m already so interested. I know it would probably be better if I just forgot about him, but I can’t help but think about him.
As I start to daydream about Gavin’s hands on my body, there’s suddenly a knock at the bedroom door. I get up quickly and head over. I open it softly. Thomas stands there, smiling at me.
“Package for you,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say, a little confused. “I didn’t order anything, though.”
He shrugs. “Came with the mail. No return address.” He hands me the thin brown box, about the size of a dress box.
I take it from him. “Thanks, Thomas.”
“Have a nice day.” He smile again and I shut the door.
Curious, I turn to my bed. I place the package down and pull it open, frowning as I go. The brown plain box reveals a shiny black one, though without a logo. I pull it out and place it on my bed before taking the top off.
The first thing I notice is a card in a plain white envelope. I take it out and set it aside. Beneath it is some white tissue paper. Too curious to stop myself, I pull apart the tissue paper and slowly take out the contents.
I turn bright red as I realize what I’m holding. It’s a black lacy lingerie set, clearly expensive, and incredibly revealing. It’s in my size, but I have no clue who sent it. I know I didn’t order it, because I don’t really own anything like this. My clothes tend to be pretty plain, but this… it’s sexy.
I grab the card and tear it open. Inside is a plain white thick paper stock with a simple note.
Call me. 555-506-5136. Gavin.
I gape at the note for a second before dropping it and stepping away from the bed, my heart hammering in my chest.
I don’t know how, but Gavin managed to buy me lingerie that will clearly fit me, and even had it sent to my home. I’m sure my parents don’t know about this, or else they would have freaked out. I stare at the card before picking it up and reading it again.
Heart beating fast, I type the number into my phone. For a second, I want to hit send, but instead I just save it. I pull the lingerie out of the box and hold it up, my whole body tingling with excitement.