“Where are you going?” I asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” he said, softly. “I’m gonna crash with a guy from work for a while, until I figure out where I’m going. But I know that I’m getting out of New York, that’s for sure.”
I smiled and nodded, remembering again just how much he hated it here.
“You did a great job making this place beautiful, Jessica,” he said, nodding at the empty walls of our tiny little apartment, the first and only place we’d ever really called ‘home’ as a couple. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that. But the big city’s just not for me. I need space. Space and fresh air and sunshine ...”
“I know,” I said, wanting to just take a step towards him, to throw my arms around him and squeeze him tight, to convince him that everything would work out okay for him, but remaining rooted awkwardly to the spot, the space between us seeming so huge and unmanageable. “I’m so sorry, Greg,” I said, hoping he believed me.
“Me too. I know I wasn’t always there for you, as much as you needed me to be.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
We both turned our attention once more to the piles of boxes, knowing that it was time, time to finally divide up our stuff for good. To my surprise, Greg began to smile.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Well,” he explained, “when I made a start on splitting up our things, I thought it might be difficult, that there’d be things we’d argue over ... But you know what? It was totally easy. We’ve been moving in different directions for a long time now, haven’t we?”
“I guess we have,” I replied, knowing deep down that he was telling the truth.
§
That evening I found myself back on Fallon’s sofa, snuggled up in my huge nest of blankets and pillows, a container of half-eaten chow mein sitting on the coffee table in front of me next to an empty pint of Ben & Jerry’s, the TV spewing out endless reruns of Say Yes to the Dress, my favorite guilty pleasure, and a mountain of boxes containing my possessions – everything I’d managed to fit into a single taxi ride – now piled in a precarious tower of cardboard against the far wall.
I’d reassured Fallon a thousand times that I’d be back to my usual self soon enough. But the truth was, I didn’t even know what my ‘usual self’ was anymore. If anything, I felt completely changed, almost unrecognizable to myself anymore, as if all my atoms had been rejigged.
I didn’t know quite who I was or what I wanted any more.
I knew now that I didn’t want Greg — or at least the life I was headed for if I’d stayed with him. I felt bad for the way things ended, but at the same time another part of me felt kind of relieved that it was over. I mean, I was still only twenty-two years old; was I really ready to settle down for a suburban life with two screaming children and a dog just yet?
And then there was Blake. The man who caused these strange flushes of excitement in me when I least expected it, who had awoken something new within me that I didn’t even know I possessed, who seemed to have turned me inside out, just by his presence in my life.
And if I was truly honest with myself, I’d found my mind turning back to the party more than once — there were desires in me that had been awoken that night, that were still awake, that were in fact becoming more and more restless, with every second I dwelled on them.
Tomorrow night was the last Friday of the month, which meant that Blake’s party would be taking place once again. And what was there — apart from my own inhibitions, of course — to stop me from going?
After all, I was a grown woman, now single, and I still had one ticket left … What was to stop me attending, and perhaps having a little fun of my own this time, working out some of my new desires and curiosities with an anonymous stranger ...
Or two …
And as I thought about this, I found myself slipping my hand softly beneath the waistband of my pajama pants, once again finding myself so wet, so ready — these thoughts obviously triggering something so powerful and animal in me, it was almost outside of my control.
I sighed softly, toying with my clit, my eyes closing as I felt the first sensations of pleasure begin to flutter once more through my body, my mind filling with images of the things I’d seen that first Friday night at Blake’s party — the blonde girl being double-teamed, the two girls no older than me eating each others’ pussies, that waiter with his hard, thick cock, and of course Blake, his skin glittering with sweat, his eyes fixed on me as he pumped his rod, Gina on her hands and knees before his godlike, athletic frame …
But just then my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of bare feet, padding down the corridor from Fallon’s bedroom to the living room, and I quickly whipped my hand guiltily from my PJs.
“You sure you don’t wanna come?” Fallon said innocently, poking her head into the room, her freshly cut fringe so severe, her eyes rimmed in thick black eyeliner, her mouth curling in a hopeful smile. “We’ve been working on some new songs. I think you’ll like them ...”
She’d been on at me to come to one of her shows for weeks now, but again I didn’t feel up to it.
I shook my head, smiled back at her, and said, “The very next one, I promise.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that, missy,” she replied, before planting a quick kiss on my forehead and then turning and heading back down the hall to the front door.
I waited for it to slam closed, and I was about to slip my hand back between my legs, but just then I heard the familiar ‘ping’ of my iPad, signaling one new email.
What now?
I reached down and lifted it up on top of the covers.
Why I Hired You
Blake Matthews
To: Jessica
Jessica,
I’ve no idea exactly what she said to you. But I can guess. This world is a tough place, especially for a talented woman just starting out on her journey to the top. Marianne should know that; God knows she’s had to fight herself.
I hired you because you were the best person for the job — I knew that the first time I heard you speak about your ideas. I didn’t hire you because you’re young or beautiful or sexy. The fact that you are all those things is completely irrelevant.
I hope I’ve made myself clear.
Blake
As I sat there on the sofa, reading back over his words, I felt my confidence returning.
Blake was right, again. This was a tough world and I was only at the start of my journey. But it seemed like he was acting as some kind of mentor for me, some sort of guide – the job that Marianne should have done, if only she hadn’t been so bitter and twisted. She should have looked at me and seen the girl she once was, but instead all she could see was her own envy and failures.
But Blake was actually able to help me.
He wanted to nurture my talent.
Oh, and another thing?
I was going to that party ...
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Ticket please,” the hostess said, a flash of bare skin glittering in the dim light beneath her open cloak, and I found my eyes drawn to her perfect body — her pert breasts, her toned thighs, her exposed sex. Her eyes lit up with a naughty glee as I fumbled in my bag for my ticket, handing it to her with nervous, trembling fingers.
“Back for more then, honey?” she said, relishing my discomfort.
“Something like that,” I whispered, unable to quite meet her eye.
“Well, you know what to do,” she said with a wink, stepping back to let me pass, down the corridor towards the heavy wooden door to the locker room at the far end. I approached it timidly, then pushed it open, just as an elegant older woman was attempting to unzip her long black dress, straining to reach the tiny silver zipper.
“Oh do give me a hand, s’il te plait?” she said, softly but sternly in a delicate French accent, her blue-green eyes shining, her long blonde hair streaked with silver and piled up on her head.
As I reached for the zipper
, my eye was drawn to a beautifully delicate (and no doubt expensive) diamond necklace, glittering around her neck. My fingers trembled as I pulled down the zipper, slowly uncovering the smooth milky whiteness of her skin beneath, inch by tantalizing inch.
“Merci,” she said, her voice as clear and sharp as cut-glass.
Just like before, I felt kind of surprised all over again at the sort of clientele that attended these parties — this woman seemed like she’d be more at home at the opera or maybe some sophisticated dinner party, yet here she was, slipping off her dress, revealing the fact that she was wearing no underwear beneath it. I would have guessed she was in her late forties or early fifties, but she was still as toned and lithe as any twenty-something, her pale skin still smooth and flawless. I had to force myself to look away, when she caught me glancing openly at the large dark bush between her legs and her surprisingly pert breasts with their pink oval nipples, standing to attention.
“See you inside, mon mimi,” the elegant and now-masked stranger said in an almost-whisper, taking a step toward me as if she was about to kiss me, her full dark lips only inches from mine, her exotic perfume swirling around us, before she quickly turned and pushed her way through the doors that led into the main room.
I moved to one of the benches and began getting undressed, feeling my heart booming, my breathing quick and shallow, as I realized just what I was about to do. I slipped off my skinny jeans, pulled off my t-shirt, unhooked my bra, putting them all carefully in the locker, just as if I was getting changed for the gym or a session in the local swimming pool. I looked down at my almost-naked body, pale and goose-bumped. I wasn’t yet ready to go out there completely naked, but I wasn’t going to be caught out in my schoolgirl panties this time, either.
I’d taken a trip to Agent Provocateur on Madison. I’d never been in there before; it’s not like I was the kind of girl who normally needed $150 panties. But the place was perfect. I spent what seemed like hours, browsing through the delicate slips of silk and satin and lace, before coming away with the perfect thing: black, lacy but not too lacy, sophisticated yet sexy. They covered my modesty, but exposed just enough skin to hint at what was beneath.
Finally I donned the silver mask and then I was ready, ready once more to step into that dark world of debauchery …
§
Stepping into the plush red central chamber, my ears were once more filled with soft moans and sighs, my eyes once more flooded with all kinds of unbelievable sights. Everywhere I looked, there seemed to be horny couples, writhing away, some standing, some tucked away in dark shadowy corners, while others fucked with abandon, right out in the very center of the room as if daring the whole room to watch.
And as well as the already-paired-off couples, I noticed lots of sexy, attractive single men and women who seemed to be prowling around too, as if on the lookout for their next partner.
I peered into one dark corner, finding myself at first unable to work out quite what was taking place. There seemed to be a large number of men and, in the middle of them, I slowly made out a woman, down on her knees, taking on as many of them at the same time as she could, using her hands, her mouth, her body … It took me a moment longer before I recognized the sparkle of her diamond necklace and realized, with a shiver of surprise – even shock – that it was the elegant older French woman from the changing room, now transformed into some kind of man-hungry sexual predator, her cheeks flushed and sweaty, her hair mussed and tangled, as she worked away at the circle of guys surrounding her, her eyes shining with a deep and delicious pleasure, lost in her darkest desires.
I took a step out from the shadows, feeling the blood pulsing in my veins, wondering if I too could ever be that brazen, that wanton; if I too could just completely let myself go one day, giving in to my most private urges …
I felt something stir in me — a subtle flicker of that animal intensity that I knew existed somewhere within me. It seemed to swell up from the deep, bubbling up to the surface and radiating all around my body, tingling across my bare skin, flashing out in electric shivers of anticipation.
“Drink, Madam?” a soft voice said behind me.
I turned around, and there he was again: that blonde boy with his pink skin so radiant and healthy looking, his face covered by his mask but the rest of him completely on show, his cock once more jutting upwards, hard and thick and proud, only inches from my hand.
It would be so easy, I realized, to just reach out and grab it, to run my fingers over his shaft, to lean in and kiss him, to push my tongue hungrily into his mouth, and to grind my throbbing, yearning sex against his tanned muscular thigh.
“Thank you,” I said, hearing the tremble of nerves in my voice as I reached out and took a champagne flute daintily from his tray, feeling his eyes burn as they moved over my naked body, so exposed.
I took a large gulp of champagne, as he turned and wandered off through the large room, in the direction of one of the many maze-like corridors that branched off from this pulsing central chamber.
What exactly are you waiting for?
But I knew the answer to that, of course.
Where is he?
I took a step away from the shadows and made my way unsteadily towards the nearest dark doorway, which led me, I discovered, down a dimly lit spiral staircase, at the bottom of which I could hear laughing, even splashing sounds.
It can’t be ...
I reached another heavy wooden door, pushed it open, and stepped down into ...
SPLASH!
For a moment everything went black, and then I felt the sheer heat of the water, warm as a freshly-drawn bath, and I felt my feet touch against the tiles and I pushed myself back to the bubbling surface, gasping at the air, quickly fixing my mask back in place, as I looked around the steamy tiled room in astonishment.
I was standing smack bang in the middle in the biggest Jacuzzi I’d ever seen in my life! The tub was almost as large as a small private swimming pool – the water hot and bubbling all around me. And I wasn’t alone, either. Through the swirls of mist that filled this tiled chamber, I caught glimpses of glistening wet skin, of flicking tongues and eager hands and toned, muscular bodies.
I was still clutching dearly to my now-empty champagne flute – thank God it hadn’t smashed! – and I felt rather silly and awkward as I waded back towards the nearest set of steps at the side, like some timid first-grader on a trip to the local swimming pool, while all around me steamy, sexy bodies writhed and squirmed, lost in adult pleasures.
But as far as I could tell, none of them were him.
“Leaving so soon?” a deep sonorous voice asked behind me.
I turned around, looking up into the large brown eyes of an absolutely beautiful young black guy, as exquisitely handsome as any model (it was clear, even despite the mask). His athletic torso sparkled with droplets, and he was so tall that the bubbling water only reached a little way above his belly button, the silky white froth dancing enticingly around his six-pack abs.
“Sure you don’t fancy staying a while?” he asked me quietly, taking a step towards me.
I felt my eyes moving hungrily over his body – it was flawless, his chocolate-colored skin shining with youth itself, and I gasped when I felt him take my hand, pressing it first against the rock-hard muscles of his chest, then guiding it slowly down beneath the water.
I felt my breath shiver in my throat as he closed my timid fingers gently around his cock.
I kept my eyes locked with his as I took in the sheer thickness and heat of his member, stroking it gently beneath the bubbles, my whole body trembling as I realized just what in the world I was doing.
God, he just felt so fucking big; I couldn’t quite close my fingers fully round his shaft, and I was unable to imagine actually fitting him anywhere inside myself.
Instead I just worked him harder and faster in my hand, enjoying the fact that I was making his eyes close in pleasure, my own excitement and anticipation growing inside me too, my
heartbeat pounding throughout my slim frame as I marveled once again at just what I was doing, down here in this hot steamy lair.
“Oh, that’s it baby, that’s it,” he murmured, his eyes screwed shut, his lips parting for a moment and his beautifully muscled body tensing for a delicious moment before his cock jerked and pulsed in my grip, somewhere beneath the dancing surface of the water.
Before he could say another word, I let go of him, leaning in to plant the briefest of kisses on his full, sensual lips, feeling my hard little nipples graze against his muscular chest, then turning away, reaching out with trembling hands and quickly climbing the silver steps set into the edge of the pool.
I pushed open the door and hurriedly made my way back up the steps, my whole body flashing with electricity, my mind swirling, my untouched pussy throbbing and tingling, as I thought back on my actions. The thing I enjoyed most of all was that I didn’t even know this guy’s name, and most likely would never even see him again. I loved the anonymity of the mask, too, and I began to fully realize the appeal and lure of this party: it was like a huge adult playground, where its willing participants could finally play out their deepest, darkest desires ...
I stepped into that plush central chamber, the water from the Jacuzzi now cooling deliciously on my skin: a welcome relief after my steamy encounter. There were many more doorways leading off in all directions into the darkness, and I wondered which one I would explore next, the secret place between my legs now absolutely begging for release.
I approached another doorway, set into a shadowy recess just off from the main chamber, and this time, after turning a corner, I found myself standing at the end of that flashing strobing corridor, the one with all those curious kinky holes set into its walls.
Taming Blake (A New Adult Romance): The Complete Trilogy Page 12