by Ally Vance
I don’t stop to think, drinking it and wishing to soon erase tonight’s events.
When it’s evident the jackass will no longer serve me, I abandon the bar and find myself walking outside to the gardens. Despite the dark sky with a full moon lit above us, the gardens appear manicured and serene in their setting.
The noise of the party becomes further in the distance until a rustle in the bushes stops me in my tracks. I turn around, scanning the area to see no one. Calming my anxious nerves, the liquor seems to begin its course through my veins, my walk compromised with a slight sway.
Suddenly, an arm grips me tight and another around my waist.
“You’re a little tease,” the voice taunts, as my body stiffens in fear. “Young girls like you parade yourself, then say no. This time you’re not so lucky.”
“Get off me,” I warn, struggling with his grip. “I’ll scream, you asshole.”
His hand covers my mouth, the sweaty palm silencing my voice.
“You’ll spread your legs and be quiet, you understand me?”
The force of his knees knocks my legs apart as nausea washes over me. My limbs feel like dead weight, unable to move while my head begs me to act quickly.
Don’t let him do this.
Taking a deep breath, I bite down hard and shut my eyes, using all my concentration to kick my foot backward and knock him straight in the groin.
“You little slut!”
I fall to the ground along with him, his grip still tight as I try to pull away. My tears begin to fall, my screams trapped inside until I’m staring at shiny black shoes. It must be a figment of my imagination. Slowly, I glance up to meet the wild eyes of Dominic.
It happens within moments, a swift kick into Richard’s ribcage, causing him to curl up in pain as Dominic threatens to kill him if he ever attempts to try this again. Dominic extends his hand, assisting me off the floor. “I’m taking you back to the hotel.”
“I’m fine,” I barely breathe, unable to comprehend what just happened.
“You’re not fine.”
I stare into his eyes, careful not to shed more tears from the shock of it all. Dominic can’t see me this way. I’m supposed to be the one to distract him, and look what happened, he ends up distracting me, causing me to drink more than I should and landing me in this mess.
“I demand you leave now before this imbecile attempts anything more,” Dominic declares in an angered tone.
The car is parked just around the corner. It’s only a ten-minute drive to the hotel, but the roads are close to pitch black. As I sit in the passenger seat staring out the window, we both remain silent. What more is there to say? Perhaps Richard is right, this is my fault? Am I projecting a woman so loose with her intentions?
Dominic stops the car in front of the hotel, turning off the engine.
“Do you want me to walk you inside?”
I shake my head. Dominic has done more than enough.
“Emile, you did nothing wrong. He shouldn’t have forced you to do anything against your will.”
Staring ahead, my words remain trapped.
“This isn’t your fault,” he assures me.
I turn to face Dominic, the beat of my heart racing as his stare overwhelms me in this confined space. He saved me. But why was he even there?
None of it matters. If it weren’t for him, I’d be lying on the dirty, cold ground robbed of my freedom of choice.
And without a second thought, my lips crash onto Dominic’s.
The kiss deepens, my tongue stroking his until my hands carelessly run through his hair. As a soft moan escapes me, a knock of reality moves swiftly and tears me away.
Dominic’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open with his chest rising and falling.
Shit, what have I done?
Shifting my focus to removing my seat belt, I fumble incoherently with quick breaths before blurting out, “Je suis désolé.”
I was sorry. Sorry for walking in the dark drunk and for kissing my boss’ ex-lover with the intention of wanting to forget tonight.
And as quickly as I kiss the man I had been tasked to distract, the same man who saved me from a beast, I exit the car just as fast.
Chapter Four
Dominic
My head falls back into the leather seat.
I force my eyes shut, but all I can hear is the loud thump emanating from my chest. All I see is Emile staring into the night, silenced by her thoughts until, in a bold move, her warm lips capture me.
All I feel is her soft fingers running through my hair.
Fuck, what the hell was that?
My mind begins to jump from controlling the desire she bestowed with just one kiss to anger that springs to life at the scene I had stumbled upon during my walk through the gardens.
A walk I desperately needed to take to clear my thoughts of her.
It isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed a man laced with a desire beyond their means of controlling sexual acts they fantasized over. The memory comes flashing back like a nightmare, the night I walked alone in Central Park after a drunken prom night.
The girl’s screams. The man who forced her against her will until I rushed to her aide. The knife he held against my throat, the threat to end my life before I found my strength and bloodied his face with my fist, and the police arriving within minutes.
Thankfully, my appearance stopped the pathetic piece of scum from taking this poor girl’s virtue against her will.
It was the beginning of the constant nightmares which plagued me during my earlier college years. I retracted from my friends and distanced myself enough to isolate myself without the social demands of being the ‘popular guy.’
And then, I found myself in a random bar one night. The owner had served me, noticed I had arrived alone, and offered to show me another part of the club.
I should’ve been more shocked to see couples naked, fucking each other, or in some cases, a large orgy with multiple partners, but I wasn’t. I was more intrigued than anything. Here, in a safe haven, people acted out their fantasies.
It’s how it all began, the most fucked-up idea to come up with, but when the demand became apparent and the money came pouring in, I became addicted to the power. Somehow, in my twisted mind, I hoped men would use this to play out their desires with consenting women rather than what I was forced to witness.
But tonight was too close to my past.
Emile’s eyes were wide and frightened, just like that young girl. The man, a friend of my father’s, not even Eric’s, had the same thirst as the scum who was sent to jail that night.
I stared at the hotel lobby, questioning my integrity and whether I should make sure she’s okay. She exits the car so fast, too quick for me to say a single word yet enough for her to apologize.
And that alone left me too unsettled.
Roaring the engine, I drive through the streets, clocking record speeds before stopping at the estate. Upon glancing at the time, it’s almost midnight. The party should be ending soon. Allegra had texted me earlier, informing me a driver had taken her back into the city. I’m relieved, not wanting to deal with her.
I need a fucking drink.
Exiting the car, I walk through the back entrance until the party is back in sight. I scan the area, noting that Richard is nowhere to be seen. Thank God. The music blares, and people are still dancing. I weave my way in and out of the crowds, drowning out the laughter, almost envious of the ability to have fun and unwind.
At the bar, I order a scotch, downing it without a single breath. Ordering another, it easily follows the first. After the second, the bartender warns me to slow down.
“I’m sorry, who’s paying your wages tonight?” I bark, frightening the poor kid.
Voices fill the space between us. Eric, I picked up on instantly until Kate joins his conversation.
“Eric, have you seen Emile?” Kate asks with worry in her voice. “We were going to take her back to the hotel?”
&n
bsp; “No, not since the catching of the silver balls. Maybe she wanted to score a man and use them tonight,” Eric chuckles. “Lord knows the girl could use a good wham-bam-thank-you-mam inside her little French pus—”
“She’s at the hotel,” I grit.
My face is lowered, eyeing the empty glasses in front of me. The bartender, a smart boy to pick up on my misfortunes, slides another scotch to me despite his earlier warning for me to slow down.
Within seconds, the smell of Kate’s perfume lingers in the air between us. I close my eyes, but it doesn’t create the same feeling as usual. I blame it on the stress, the weight on my shoulders, and the nightmare which begins to bloom from the seed planted tonight.
“How do you know that?”
“I took her there,” I mumble.
“You took Emile back to the hotel?” she repeats in a less-than-inviting tone. “Why would you take her back?”
“Why do you care?” I deadpan.
“I care because she’s my assistant,” Kate tells me. “And a friend.”
Assistant? Shit. I draw my head back quickly, turning to face Kate. Her expression sours her beauty, a look of contempt, assuming I’ve done wrong. For once, I shouldn’t be the evil villain in all of this.
“Dominic, answer me?” she demands again.
“It’s not my place to say why. She needed a ride home, that’s all.”
“With you, it’s never a that’s all,” Kate argues until she moves in closer, almost whispering in my ear. “Don’t think for one second you can manipulate her to think she’s anything less than who she is by dragging her to your club. You’ve done your damage, and you better believe I’ll do everything in my power to protect her.”
“Kate?”
I hear the angered voice of Noah standing near us. “Is there a problem?”
“There shouldn’t be,” Kate assures him. “Let’s go.”
I don’t glance their way. The salt they had so easily poured into my open wound is the least of my problems right now.
There’s something more pressing.
Kate may use her power to protect Emile from me, the so-called big bad wolf, but I’m not the one she should be worried about.
I’m not the one who leaned in for the kiss.
And I’m definitely not the one who intimately ran their fingers through my hair.
But there’s one major problem—I’m the one who cares.
Chapter Five
Emile
“I insist you join us today.”
Eric’s persistent tone carries through the phone as my eyes squint, struggling to open. Turning to my side, I let out a yawn noting the time is only eight in the morning.
I fell asleep.
The last thing I recall is staring at the window, insomnia keeping me company as my errors of last night replay like a lousy movie worthy of a cringe.
I’m a fool, an idiot. I should know better than to kiss Dominic, of all people. Sure, he saved me from Richard’s lewd act, but a thank you shouldn’t have been returned via a kiss.
Kate’s voice echoes in my head all night long. The stories she told of the man Dominic is, and despite being painted as a man with no heart, let alone affectionate, why didn’t he push me away? That kissed lasted for seconds, maybe even a minute.
Why didn’t he stop?
“And so then, Tristan says, let’s skinny dip. I mean, can you even imagine if the coastal guard caught us?”
Only catching half the story, I shake my head to rid myself of my dazed state. “I’m sorry, Eric, what did you say?”
“I’m going to forgive you for your lack of attention over my inappropriate beach activities. Assuming, much like everyone else, you’re completely hungover?”
“Um… yes,” I clear my throat. “Very.”
“Then, it’s settled, brunch?”
I’m about to accept the invitation when it dawns on me that Dominic may be in attendance. I want to avoid him like the plague but need a reason to ask.
“Who else will be joining us? Is it just a family thing?”
“My parents, Lex and Charlie. The rest are still sleeping.”
“Oh,” I say, grimacing. “I thought it was just your parents and brother.”
“My brother and his wife went back to the city,” Eric mentions, less enthused. “So, you’ll come, right?”
How easily I had forgotten about his wife.
“I guess I can’t say no to the newlywed, now can I?”
“Hmm…” I can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Consider it your wedding gift to me.”
I let out a snort. “That’s what you said last week when you wanted one last hurrah at the gym to look at the single men.”
“I’m such a bad liar,” Eric admits so carefreely. “See you soon, gorgeous!”
The call ends, prompting me to throw the sheets over my head. Thank God, Dominic won’t be at brunch. I instantly feel myself relax, but with that, curiosity begins to consume me. I open my Instagram, typing in his name. Nothing comes up, which doesn’t surprise me.
Letting out an annoyed huff, I click on Eric’s profile and go through who he’s following. All I see are half-naked men and reality television stars. After seeing a string of our mutual friends’ accounts, I stumble on an account with the username Dom84, which upon opening, isn’t private. There are no photos of the person, just random pictures of New York City. Heading back to Eric’s account, I scroll through his photos from yesterday until the image of his family is on my screen, and the same account is tagged.
I don’t know what possesses me, but I need to end whatever this mess is that I created and bury it along with many other things I wish not to think about. I type a direct message, my fingers acting before my weary brain.
Emile Cadieux: I was really drunk last night. I’m sorry.
I don’t expect a response, but within seconds, a message pops into my inbox.
Dom84: Quite the sleuth to find me. I didn’t know stalking is part of your job description. Perhaps, prior to kissing me while supposedly drunk, you could have mentioned your ties to Kate?
Emile Cadieux: That information is irrelevant. Unless, of course, I foiled some plan of yours involving my kind boss?
Emile Cadieux: Let’s just forget this all happened.
Dom84: I don’t easily forget things… Miss Cadieux.
Emile Cadieux: Pourquoi devez-vous être un âne si arrogant!
Shit, I called him an arrogant ass! My anger can only result in an unpleasant conversation. I need to end this right now.
Dom84: Now, now. It seems you’re quite worked up. The little black box you caught at the wedding may come in handy. Try it. You may be surprised.
Heat rushes between my legs. Just ignore him. This is what he does to women to lure them into his club.
Emile Cadieux: I know what you’re doing. I’m not some young fool falling for your charm to be lured into your club.
Desperate to end this conversation, the other conversation with Noah comes to mind. “Distract him, Emile.” Unintentionally, I had distracted him. This is exactly what Noah had asked of me. Though, surely, it was enough.
Dom84: If I turned on my charm, Emile, you would be in my bed right now begging for me to make you come. So to correct you, you’ve yet to see exactly what I can do.
My eyes widen as I read the message. Throwing my phone across the bed, I groan in frustration. How dare he make me feel this way? I hate how my body betrays me, the ache persistent and causing the skin between my thighs to moisten.
The little black box beside me proves too hard to ignore. I open it, removing the balls and juggling them in my hands. Taking a deep breath, I slowly slide them inside, the cold metal causing me to gasp.
My phone chimes, another message from Dominic.
Dom84: No instant response? You must be busy…
I can’t wait any longer. My hands creep down the sheets, moving against my swollen clit. My back arches with every sensation which spreads through
out me, but as the desire becomes too much to bear, I stand up and lean against the wall, the weight of the balls inside of me making it all the more pleasurable.
My soft moans escape until I can no longer take the pressure, and my orgasm rips through me like a vicious wave.
I fall to the ground, catching my breath before crawling back to the bed, where I collapse.
The temptation is too great, and what does it matter? I never have to speak to or see him again.
Emile Cadieux: Your charm is not needed. If I wanted to make myself come, I know exactly how to do it. The only thing I will credit you for is your advice on using my gift. So, thank you, Dominic. I can assure you the pleasure this morning has been all mine.
The moment I hit send, I begin to panic. There’s no way of retracting the message, so I did the only smart thing I can think of.
I hit block user.
Eric’s mother, Vivian, is a gracious host, circling the table as she fixes the cutlery.
The table is set like a picture from Pinterest—elegant and proper, which, according to Eric, is a typical Hamptons’ brunch.
“Eric, darling, do we have enough places?”
Eric counts the seats. “Yes, Mom. It’s only you and dad, me and Tristan, Lex and Charlie, and Emile.”
That exact moment, Mr. Edwards and Charlie arrive, greeting everyone hello as we take our seats instructed by Vivian.
“Did you enjoy yourself last night, Emile?” Charlie asks with a polite smile. “This is your first American wedding, correct?”
“Yes, and it was stunning. Eric and Tristan did a wonderful—”
“Sorry, Mom, I’m here.”
The voice which cut me off sends a chill down my spine. Shit! Why on earth is Dominic here. They just said it was only us!