Tell Me to Go

by Charlotte Byrd

  I climb in, press the accelerator, and drive out slowly, praying that Nicholas doesn’t hear me.

  I arrive at the hotel five minutes before eight. After being barefoot since I walked up the stairs to Nicholas’ door, the wedges that I got from Marshall’s feel heavy and cumbersome.

  I say hello to the valet and walk straight to the bathroom in the lobby.

  First rule of a good con, if you want to act like you belong somewhere then act like you do.

  I don’t look around.

  I don’t look like I have any questions.

  I hold my head up high. I have to look like I know exactly what I’m doing even if I don’t have a clue.

  The stalls are all empty. I consider using the one meant for disabled people or families with the changing table. Since I don’t fit into either category, I decide against it.

  Second rule of a good con, never break unnecessary rules and regulations.

  Never speed.

  Never park in the wrong place.

  Never use a stall not meant for you.

  It may not seem like a big deal but it’s little things like these that will come back to haunt you later on.

  I change out of my clothes in the smaller stall, stuffing my other clothes into the backpack that I hang on the hook above.

  Once I clasp the bra in the back, I look down and bounce my naked breasts in the air. The space between my legs is equally unsupported by the crotchless underwear. I wrap myself up in the trench coat and apply a coat of red lipstick in front of the floor length mirror.

  “You can do this,” I say to myself.

  I stretch out my fingers as a rush of excitement courses through me.

  I should be afraid but instead I’m strangely turned on.

  Perhaps, it’s the lingerie or how amazing it makes me feel.

  I’ve never worn anything like this before.

  It makes me feel sexy and alluring. The only disappointing thing is that Nicholas won’t be the first person to see me dressed in this.

  When I knock on his door, I take a step back noting that familiar feeling I had every time I took something that didn’t belong to me.

  It’s difficult to explain to someone who hasn’t ever done it, except to say that it feels dangerous and exciting at the same time.

  Your breathing speeds up. Your pulse rate goes through the roof, but your hand remains still.

  Calm.

  Under control.

  The man who answers isn’t who I expect. Even though Nicholas told me that he has killed before, I still assumed he would be kind of meek, small, maybe even bald and unattractive. This man is nothing like that. He’s tall, with broad shoulders, an expensive haircut, and a cut body.

  Dressed in a tight white t-shirt, he gives me a young Marlo Brando vibe circa A Streetcar Named Desire. He even smells manly.

  “Dallas Stone,” he says, looking me up and down.

  “Abigail Sanders,” I say, giving him a strong handshake.

  Touching his jaw and licking his lips, I can see that he likes the way I look. I let out a little sigh of relief and walk into the living room.

  With his eyes burning holes in my ass, I look around the suite.

  There’s a couch to one side and a small worktable on the far end.

  The laptop sits squarely in the middle with the lid closed.

  “Would you like a drink, Abigail?” Dallas asks.

  “Yes, please, vodka with spritzer water and a wedge of lemon.”

  Dallas goes over to the bar.

  “Do you go by Abigail or Abby?” he asks, cutting the lemon.

  “Abigail,” I say.

  I practiced the name earlier in the car so that when I said it out loud it would come off as natural as my own name.

  “What should I call you?”

  “Dallas for now,” he says. “Mr. Stone later.”

  I turn around to let him see my eyes light up.

  My mouth forms a little smile.

  The thing is that it’s not all an act. I’m strangely attracted to him.

  Well, maybe there’s nothing strange about it.

  He oozes sex and he knows it. There’s an arrogance to him in the way he is already undressing me with his eyes.

  My tongue touches the roof of my mouth when I have a dirty thought. He looks like a good lay. What if I were to fuck him first?

  24

  When there’s an interruption…

  Dallas gives me the drink and I take a sip. It’s slow and deliberate. I lick my lips and enjoy him watching me do it.

  I know that I should be scared, but I’m not.

  I’m here to do a job, but would it be so terrible if I had a little fun along the way? I don’t owe Nicholas a thing. We have a professional relationship and I want to have sex with him as well but he’s playing games with me. And two can play this game.

  Another part of me is angry with Nicholas.

  I’m pissed off that he was so unreasonable as to forbid me to go back to Boston and help my brother.

  Who the hell does he think he is?

  What gives him the right?

  I look Dallas up and down. Maybe fucking him is the best thing for me. I haven’t been with a man for a while now, all of the way that is, and this guy may be just what I need.

  The fact that it will also go a long way to piss off Nicholas would just be the icing on the cake.

  I take another sip and take a step toward Dallas.

  The glass makes a loud clinking sound when it touches the marble table.

  I’m so close to him, I smell his minty fresh breath.

  I appreciate the preparation.

  “What would you like to do with me?” I ask slowly.

  His eyes are blue, the color of the ocean, with flecks of green.

  “Something bad,” he says after a moment.

  Reaching over, I run my fingers up his neck and along his jawline.

  He takes a step forward and kisses me on the mouth.

  His lips are demanding. They part mine and immediately make their way inside.

  His hands pull on the belt of my trench coat. Then he pulls away from me.

  “You want to see?” I ask, raising one eyebrow.

  He nods with a wide smile.

  I grab it by the lapels and toss it off me.

  I stand before him exposed.

  Naked but not naked at the same time.

  His eyes slowly leave mine and travel down my elongated neck, down toward my chest.

  They pause as he looks at my nude breasts before looking further down.

  I suck in my stomach a bit and stand up as straight as possible. This should be Nicholas’ eyes on my body, but Dallas’s will do for tonight.

  My pulse speeds up as I anticipate all the bad things he will do to me while I imagine that he is Nicholas.

  He’s about to say something but I beat him to it.

  I spread my legs in a wider stance, for him to take a better look at the apex of my thighs.

  Then when I think he has had enough I turn around and fold my body in half.

  Keeping my arms straight, I place my hands on my knees and extend my butt outward and into the air. I feel his eyes on my body and a warmness starts to radiate from my core.

  He takes a step toward me and runs his fingers up my thighs.

  My legs open wider for him, aching to be touched, but instead of pulling them inside of me, he wraps them around the cheeks of my ass and goes up the sides toward my breasts.

  I stand up straight.

  Cupping both of them at the same time, he presses his body to mine with the bulge of his pants directly on my coccyx.

  It’s thick and wide and it feels like it’s made of wood.

  Grinding my butt against it, my thoughts return to Nicholas.

  If only he were to see us now.

  If only he were to be forced to watch, unable to stop a thing.

  My imagination is so vivid, I can almost taste his jealousy.

  A kno
ck on the door forces him to pull away. I wipe the sweat off my palms on my thighs.

  Maybe it’s just room service.

  Maybe it’s nothing to worry about.

  From where I’m standing, I have a clear view of the door.

  It’s a beautiful woman.

  “Oh, hey! I didn’t realize that they were going to send both of us,” I say, taking two large leapfrog jumps toward them.

  “Um…I thought…“ the woman starts to say.

  I interrupt her by reaching toward her and pulling her inside.

  “The more the merrier, right?” I ask, raising one eyebrow and biting my lower lip. I drape myself over both Dallas and the woman.

  The escort is a natural at playing characters so she quickly puts her bag on the counter and starts to undress.

  But Dallas rubs the back of his neck, concerned.

  “Looks like I have some catching up to do,” she jokes, turning around for him to unclasp her bra.

  Do it.

  Do it. Do it, I say silently to myself.

  He reaches for the straps instead and pushes them off her shoulders. By the time I see her nipples, Dallas’s face relaxes and he starts to believe.

  I let out a little sigh of relief.

  That was close.

  But now…I have another problem.

  The escort has Pantene commercial hair with legs that go on for miles. Her booty is as perky and perfect as her breasts.

  Still, I have never even kissed a girl and my desire for Dallas has evaporated with the prospect of getting caught.

  It’s not that she isn’t sexy. It’s more like whatever trance I was just under has vanished and I know that the best thing to do is to get the job done and get the hell out of here.

  Dallas gets down on his knees and puts her breasts in his mouth.

  “C’mon, join us,” he mumbles and waves me over.

  I glance over at the table with the laptop.

  My bag with the copy is all the way across the room. This is going to be quite a challenge.

  Focus, I say to myself. You can do this. Just think.

  It’s not a problem unless there is a solution.

  And there’s a solution here.

  “Let’s move over to the bed,” I suggest.

  25

  When he surprises me…

  I walk over to the bedroom and stand with my legs and arms apart holding on to the two French doors. The sections of each door are made of glass but luckily, they are also covered in curtains for a semblance of privacy.

  “You must be new,” the escort says. “I don’t think I’ve caught your name.”

  My heart drops. Dallas can’t suspect that I’m not who I say I am.

  “I’m not new,” I say, taking my finger and running it down one of her breasts. When I reach her nipple, I give it a little pinch. “I just switched over from another outfit. I’m Abigail.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” she says, opening her mouth and grazing her tongue along the edge of her teeth. “I’m Rosemary.”

  “Okay, ladies, I’m ready,” Dallas says, lying down spread eagle on his back.

  “I don’t think you are,” Rosemary says, climbing onto the bed.

  I wait a moment for them to lose themselves in each other’s bodies.

  “I’ll be right there,” I say. “My mouth is a desert.”

  That part is true.

  I want to clear my throat, but I cover it with my hand instead to not mess with the mood.

  I open the door and then quickly close it behind me, but not all of the way through so that the lock doesn’t make a sound.

  Once I’m outside, I don’t waste any time.

  I grab my bag, rush across the living room to the desk with his laptop and make the switch.

  In the kitchen, I turn on the water in the sink to make it seem like I’m pouring myself a glass and then slip through the front door.

  Holding the handle so that it doesn’t make a sound as it closes behind me, I only let out a small sigh of relief once I get to the fire escape.

  Running down the stairs, I put on my trench coat, only slowing down my gait when I reach the lobby.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask when I run into him in the parking lot.

  “Get in,” Nicholas says from behind the wheel of his BMW.

  “No, I drove your car here.”

  Without missing a step, I unlock my car and I get in.

  My phone rings when I pull out of the hotel’s parking lot and disappear down the winding highway along the coast.

  “What the hell were you thinking?” He demands to know as soon as I answer.

  “Thanks for sending in the other escort,” I say sarcastically. “That made things a lot easier.”

  "You weren’t supposed to go. The deal was off.”

  Anger starts to build up in the pit of my stomach.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like this?” I demand to know.

  “I’m…I’m,” he says, stumbling for the right word. “I’m your fucking boss.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re my partner.”

  “Oh, is that right?” he asks, his tone oozing in derision.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “The last time I checked, one partner usually doesn’t arrange everything and pay the other a salary. Only a boss does that.”

  I hang up the phone, hitting my palms on the steering wheel. As expected, he calls back.

  I don’t answer.

  He keeps calling. I refuse to answer.

  After three attempts, he gives up.

  I drive in silence around a few bends. The GPS lady on my phone warns me that I have to turn in 0.2 of a mile. That’s the exit onto his property, but that’s the last place I want to go right now.

  When she tells me to turn, I keep going. She tells me to do a U-turn so I turn her off completely. Not going anywhere in particular, I press down on the accelerator.

  I don’t see Nicholas behind me and it seems like he either turned onto the road toward his house or just fell behind. Either way, I wait for a phone call but it doesn’t come.

  I take a few more turns around the cliffs before pulling onto a turnout and parking the car. There’s a narrow path leading down to the beach. I make my way down carefully since I’m no expert in walking in heels, even if they are wedges.

  The beach is wild and deserted.

  It looks like man hasn’t touched it in centuries.

  The sand is soft but covered in naturally occurring debris.

  I find a spot away from the splinters and driftwood. I pull my knees up to my face and rest my chin on top. I listen to the swishing of the water as it comes and goes in a continuous rhythm and then take off my shoes, burying my toes in the sand.

  “I’m sorry,” Nicholas says, walking over to me.

  His voice breaks my concentration but doesn’t frighten me.

  “What do you want?” I ask.

  “I want to apologize.”

  “For what?” I ask. “I thought you were never wrong.”

  This seems to hurt him, but that’s exactly how I mean it.

  I do want to inflict pain. I’m angry at him for following me here.

  I’m angry at him for ruining my surprise. I’m angry at him for lecturing me as if I am a kid who did something wrong.

  I turn my face toward him. Shrugging my shoulders and lifting my chin, I wait for him to talk.

  “I’m sorry for saying that I’m your boss.”

  I nod.

  “But…

  “But what?” I ask. “You realize, of course, that this ‘but’ negates your whole apology.”

  “Well, that’s not what I mean to do.”

  “Well, that’s what you are doing,” I say. “You’re justifying and that means you’re not really apologizing.”

  Nicholas sits down next to me.

  “Why did you go there?” he asks.

  I bite my lower lip and stare into the distance.
/>   “I knew I could do it and I did,” I say, sitting up straight.

  “You did?” he asks.

  By the tone of his voice, I can tell that something is different. Slowly, I turn my head toward him. His eyes are lit up like it is Christmas morning.

  “That doesn’t change anything,” I point out.

  “No, that’s where you are wrong,” he corrects me. “It changes everything!”

  26

  When we talk…

  Nicholas and I sit on the sand for a bit staring at the waves crashing just below our feet. There are so many things I want to ask him.

  There are so many questions that I need answered.

  Just not at this very moment.

  I bury my hands in the sand. I bring my palms together and scoop up as much of it as I can.

  “You calling that escort to go to his room didn’t help much,” I finally say. Nicholas’ mouth drops open.

  “What happened?” he whispers.

  I prop up my head with my hand and rest it on my knee.

  “It kinda killed the mood,” I joke.

  He furrows his brows, looking perplexed.

  “Dallas isn’t a bad looking guy,” I explain.

  My lips form into a little smile that I can’t force off my face.

  “What are you talking about?” Nicholas asks.

  I don’t respond. He turns his body toward mine, grabbing me by my shoulders.

  “Don’t tell me you were thinking of…what exactly? Actually, going through with it?”

  I shrug, reveling in his jealousy. “I was expecting some troll but he and I had real heat. Besides, I haven’t had sex, proper sex, in a long time.”

  “You wanted to fuck him?” Nicholas asks.

  “Yeah, maybe.” I smile.

  “Don’t you know who he is?” he says, shaking his head.

  “No, I don’t. That’s the problem. You didn’t tell me anything about him.”

  “That’s because I wanted to protect you. I called this whole operation off.”

  I shake my head and turn away from him.

  He forcibly turns my face toward him.

  “What happened?” he asks.

  The fire in his eyes is still there but it no longer feels like just jealousy. It’s something more than that.