by Virna DePaul
“Damn, you look hot,” he said.
“Thank you. You look pretty hot yourself.” He had on a soft-looking pair of black trousers and a short-sleeved blue silk button-down. His hair was stylishly mussed and Cara thought he looked so good that she might reconsider and take him up on changing his mind about going out.
Branden called the valet, and when they got downstairs, the blue Maserati with the racing stripes was waiting for them. The valet left it running and held open Cara’s door. Cara slid inside.
Immediately, she realized what the phrase “soft as butter” was referring to. She’d never seen or felt anything like the car’s leather seats. The dash was filled with all the latest buttons and gadgets. Branden drove carefully and obeyed all the speed laws, but just the sound of the car and the vibration of its powerful motor sent little tingles of pleasure through her body. She suddenly realized that in spite of all the chaos that had invaded her life lately, she was happy.
They only drove a few minutes before arriving at their destination. It was a private club on the Street, one that charged a monthly fee. Cara had heard all about it from executives at D&M, but she’d never been there.
When they walked inside, the large airy room had bright red carpeting and a cherrywood bar with an etched gold mirror behind it. Tall stools with soft, puffy seats surrounded the bar, and they all looked to be filled with men in suits. The big, soft-looking booths were red and black and there were several large-screen televisions hanging around the room. One of them was playing a baseball game with no sound, and the other two were showing music videos. The sound was off on those as well and soft music was playing overhead.
Branden led her through that room and into the next, where there was a large stage and people were bustling around like they were getting ready for a show. Several of them smiled and said, “Hi, Mr. Duke,” as if he was a celebrity or owned the club.
The next room was the nightclub. The volume of the music was much louder due to the live band playing in the corner on an elevated black stage. The rest of the room was decorated in red and black like the bar. The wood dance floor was black and shiny and there were already quite a few people on it. The lighting was soft and high-top tables surrounded the dance floor. Branden took her hand and led her to one near the dance floor that was marked with a Reserved sign.
“This is your table?” Cara asked him.
“Yes, but I don’t use it often.”
She raised an eyebrow, doubting that was true considering the pictures she’d seen with various model-types hanging on his arm. She looked over and saw people coming in through a door on the side of the room that was flanked by bouncers who were checking IDs. She hadn’t thought about it, but people had barely glanced at her when she and Branden had come in the other way.
“Did we come in the back way or the front?” Cara asked.
“We came in the private entrance. It’s a perk of my membership,” he told her with a grin.
The cocktail waitress came over and took their order.
When she was gone, Branden surprised her by saying, “You are so pretty.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He had his eyes locked on hers again. Sometimes just the way he looked at her made her panties wet. Right now? Mission accomplished.
The band started playing dubstep. She was wiggling her legs and feet to the music when Branden stood and held out his hand to help her down off the high stool. “Shall we?”
He was being such a gentleman tonight. Not that he was ever rude—his manners were impeccable—but something just seemed different about him. She thought back on her little “domestic” fantasies earlier in the night and found herself wondering if he ever had any of those himself. She almost laughed out loud when she remembered who she was thinking about.
He led her out onto the dance floor and they found an empty spot. They both began to dance and she couldn’t help but notice how every woman on the floor looked at him with lust and her with envy. He was, of course, a great dancer. He danced like he did everything else. Perfectly. Cara was glad that dancing was something she’d always been good at. She’d taken ten years of dance classes before her father lost his job.
Her mind suddenly turned to her mother, who she needed to call. Needed to visit. She’d been allowing herself to enjoy the fantasy of being with Branden, but that wasn’t real life.
Branden suddenly pulled her tightly against his hard chest and leaned down so that his lips were almost touching her ear. The feel of his hot breath sent little jolts of electricity down her spine. “None of that tonight.”
She turned her head slightly, and when she did his lips were just inches from hers. She’d only had a few sips of her drink but she felt drunk. “None of what?”
“Whatever’s churning around inside your head. Tonight, I want you here with me. Completely.”
She still couldn’t take her eyes off his lips. She was hoping he had more to say, because being this close as she watched them move was lighting a fire of desire in the pit of her gut. She had her hands on his shoulders and she slid them upward, wrapping them up behind his neck. She rested them there, but allowed her fingers to dance along his hairline.
He had his hands on her waist, but as the beat accelerated and then decelerated, he slid them up, stopping briefly on the sides of her breasts before running them back down to her hips. As they swayed to music, Branden turned her in a slow circle and pulled her back into him. His hands now ran freely across her abdomen, every so often venturing upward to brush her breasts.
People could see them. He had to know that. He obviously wanted them to see. Wanted her to know they could see.
Cara shivered and arched her back, fitting herself up against him. When the music slowed again, she matched the movement of her hips to it, grinding against his growing and stiffening cock. She leaned her head back on his shoulder. He bent his head and ran his lips across the sensitive flesh between her neck and shoulder. She had her eyes closed, oblivious to the hundred or more people around them.
Cara felt her heart pounding in her chest. It was dancing to the beat of the music, as well. Branden slid his hands back and forth across her abdomen, causing her to push back harder and grind herself against him. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You keep that up and I won’t be able to walk out of here.”
She turned her head slightly and shot him a wicked look over her shoulder. “Should I stop?”
“Hell, no,” he growled out.
“But what about the crowd? What if someone takes our picture and posts it online?”
His fingertips gripped her hips more tightly and he pulled her hard against him. “Let them. We’re doing nothing wrong. And anyway, if that happened, then people would know you’re my woman.”
His woman.
The phrase hung there, heavy, like the beat, then dissipated and melted into the air when Branden rubbed his big hands along her hips and upper thighs, letting her skirt rise and fall with the motion, not exposing anything but leg, but coming so very close to the warm wet place he knew was there.
While his hips swayed and his long legs moved in time with the music, he flipped her around once more, this time to face him. They kissed softly and then followed each other with their eyes and their bodies. Each time Branden would pull her in toward him, she ground her pelvis against the front of his pants. Then he would push her away again, and for a few minutes she would dance for him, and he would undress her with his eyes before he reached out and pulled her back in. His chest and her breasts would bump as he brought her in and they would dance slow and close. Her nipples were so hard that she knew he had to be able to feel them through both of their layers of clothes.
He pushed her back again, and this time when she danced for him, she ran her own hands slowly down her body and back up again. She raked her eyes over his body as she danced, pausing over the large bulge in his pants and swiping along the outer edges of her lips with her tongue. He grabbed her with two hands
then and brought her back in.
Dropping his mouth to hers, he kissed her long and hard, deep and passionate, while squeezing and kneading the cheeks of her ass. When they finally broke for air, it took her a moment to realize the music had stopped playing, that the dance floor was clearing out.
Slightly embarrassed, Cara grabbed Branden’s hand and tried to lead him off the dance floor. He refused to go and instead reached out and wrapped one hand through her long hair, pulling her back for another long, possessive kiss.
This time, when they stopped kissing, he let her lead him off the dance floor. He stationed her back at his table, then when the cocktail waitress didn’t immediately appear, he headed off to get her water.
Almost as soon as Branden left, Cara’s phone rang. She frowned when she saw the call was from her mother. Since it was late, Cara assumed there was some kind of emergency. And usually, emergencies were about Glenn.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, Cara. I’m so glad I caught you.”
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Cara glanced over her shoulder; Branden was still at the bar.
“It’s Glenn.”
Cara’s stomach flipped. “Is he okay?”
“I got a call from the center. They said they couldn’t reach you…”
Cara pulled the phone away from her ear and glanced at the screen. She did have a missed call. It had probably come through when she’d been dancing with Branden.
“Mom, take a breath and tell me what they said.”
Cara glanced at the bar again. Branden was on his way back over.
“Glenn had an episode. I don’t think he’s responding well to his new meds. The night assistant I talked to said he keeps asking for you. Glenn’s convinced himself that you’ve been killed or kidnapped because it’s been so long since he’s seen you. I’m sorry, honey, I know you’re busy and I would go, but…”
She glanced up as Branden reached her. “I’ll go, Mom. Just so you know, I was there last week. He was sleeping the whole time, but I was there.”
“Oh, honey, I know you take good care of him. You take good care of both of us.”
Branden sat down and was giving her a quizzical look.
“I have to go, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” her mother said.
Cara hung up and looked at Branden. She accepted a glass of water from him and took a generous swallow. “Thank you,” she said. She stared at the glass.
“Is everything okay?” he asked quietly.
“Um…my mother needs me.”
“Tonight?” He glanced at his watch. “It’s awfully late. Are you going to go?”
She nodded. “I—I need to.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Her head jerked up. “No.”
“Cara—”
“I’m sorry. I feel bad for cutting short our fun, but you can stay.”
He frowned. “You want me to stay and dance without you?”
Of course she didn’t. “Or—or you can work. I’m sure you have work to do.”
He reached out and covered her hand with his. “Cara. What’s going on?”
“What’s going on is I have responsibilities. Responsibilities that have nothing to do with you, Branden.” Nothing to do with the fantasy life that you live, she thought almost bitterly.
He frowned. “I want to help you, Cara. Take care of you.”
“No. I’m used to taking care of these things by myself. I want to keep it that way. I have to keep it that way.”
“You don’t have to, Cara. You could try letting someone in every once in a while. You could try letting me in.”
She stood. “I’m sorry. I have to go. If you’d prefer I go back to my own place afterward—”
“No. I’ll send my driver. That’s not negotiable, Cara. It’s late. Either I take you to your mother’s myself or you go with my driver.”
“Fine! You might as well take me yourself since your driver will just report back to you anyway.”
“Report what? Where are you going?”
“To Suffolk County. Windorne Care Home. And we’re not going to see my mother. We’re going to see my brother.”
“Cara.” His hand on her arm was gentle. Soothing. Yet firm. “You’ve said nothing of this, which makes me think there’s something you don’t want me or the world to know. Why is your brother in a care home?”
Tears stung her eyes but she tipped her chin upward. “Let’s just go. You’ll know soon enough.”
Branden walked with Cara down a long hallway, taking in his surroundings. Windorne Care Home was a residential facility—like an apartment complex but with services for those who had special needs. It appeared very nicely decorated, with big open windows that faced the east and probably picked up the rays of the sun during the day quite nicely. They entered an airy day room with a large-screen plasma television and big, plush couches. The tile floor was new and shiny. There were lush green plants in pots that sat around the room and pictures of colorful flowers and birds on the walls. It looked like a comfortable and safe haven.
Cara turned to him. “Can you wait here? I—I’m not sure what kind of state he’s in, and if he sees you…”
Branden nodded. “I’ll stay out of sight.”
She walked to another hallway and past two big linen carts. It looked to Branden like staff had been busy distributing the laundry before they got called away. She stopped about halfway down the hall, then glanced back at him before entering a room.
It was quiet for the most part; he could hear the occasional snore or the sounds of soft crying here and there. It reminded him that even as nice a facility as this one was, it was still a facility for those who couldn’t care for themselves, and that would always carry a hint of sadness.
Ever since she’d received the call from her mother, Cara had tried to hide it, but Brendan had sensed the sadness in her. She was tired. She was here for her brother, but she needed help, and he felt like an idiot sitting here. He was curious about her brother even as he wanted to respect her wishes to not be seen.
He walked past the laundry carts and by the open door of her brother’s bedroom. Staying out of sight, he peeked inside. She was sitting next to a young man who was reclining in bed. Seeing that the room next door was empty, Branden slipped into it and then into the adjoining bathroom; the door into the next room was slightly ajar. From there, he was just able to hear Cara’s conversation with her brother.
“I understand that you must have a good reason for refusing your meds, Glenn, but I would understand all of this better if you would tell me what it is.”
“I took the melting tablet, the one that acts fast, when you called to say you were coming. But I didn’t take the other meds. Besides, you’ll just say I’m imagining it,” the young man said.
Branden knew from his investigation that Cara had a brother named Glenn. He was five years older than her and as far as Branden had known, he lived with her mother. There’s been no medical reports to indicate mental illness, but his treatment could have been done privately, keeping it off the insurance information.
“I promise to keep an open mind,” she said.
“You won’t believe me. No one here believes me. You never believe me. “
“That’s not true. I’ve believed you lots of times.”
“Name one,” he said.
“When you told me my high school boyfriend, Denny, was a cyborg, do you remember that? I believed you and I dumped him right away.”
Branden heard Cara’s brother laugh.
“I may have been wrong about that one.”
“Are you kidding me? I could be married to Denny and have four kids by now!”
“Cyborg kids,” he said with another laugh. “When I don’t take my meds, my ideas can get a little…farfetched. But really, I’m not making this one up.”
“Okay then, tell me what’s going on, big brother.”
“I see Dad,” her brother blurted out.
�
��You see Dad? Where?” she asked.
“He sits with me at night when I feel lonely. He doesn’t say anything; he just sits there. I don’t like to be alone. Dad always knew I didn’t like to be alone. Remember when I was little he would sit on the end of my bed until I fell asleep, and then if I woke up, he would come back?”
Branden peeked through the crack in the bathroom door. He could see just a sliver of Cara’s beautiful face as she smiled.
“I remember,” she said. “He chased a few monsters out of my closet at night, too. He was a great dad.”
“Yeah, he was the best,” her brother said.
“It’s nice that Dad is here with you when you’re scared or alone, Glenn. I don’t have a hard time believing that. What does it have to do with your medications, though?”
“When I take them, I get too sleepy and I sleep all night. I don’t get to see him, Cara. I miss him so much.”
Branden could tell by the crack of his voice that her brother was crying. He saw Cara lean in and put her hand on the side of his face gently.
“Listen to me, Glenn, okay? Daddy is always with us.” She took her other hand and put it on his chest. “He’s right there.” Then she pointed at his head and said, “And he’s right there, in your memories. Anytime you want to see him, day or night, all you have to do is close your eyes and call him up. That’s what I do.”
Glenn looked at his sister with surprise. “You see him, too?”
“Yes, but I don’t see him with my eyes, I see him with my heart. Your imagination has always been better than mine though, big brother. Your mind and heart are probably just projecting an image of him at the end of your bed so you feel safe and protected. You have to remember that the meds are for other things, a lot of things that you do want gone, Glenn, right? Like thinking that I’m dead and that your nurse killed me. I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you. But look, I’m here, and I’m real.”