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Cruel and Beautiful
  • Текст добавлен: 6 октября 2016, 04:47

Текст книги "Cruel and Beautiful"


Автор книги: A. M. Hargrove


Соавторы: Terri E. Laine
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

ROLLING OVER IN BED, I encounter a wall of pillows.

“Hey,” Jenna’s says, her head popping up on the other side of the wall. “I’m not ready to get up.”

Her whine makes me smile because I’ve missed this girl so much. Only my grin turns into a frown as my head throbs. I can’t remember how much wine we consumed last night. My confusion doesn’t stop the playful jab that comes from my mouth.

“You talk in your sleep. You know that?”

“I do? What did I say?” she asks anxiously.

“Something about Brandon.”

Her faces lights up. “Don’t mention that name when we meet Kenneth tonight.”

“Who’s Kenneth?” My nose wrinkles up.

She waves a hand in the air as she falls behind the pillows to hide herself. “I met him at the country club a few months ago. I don’t get to see him often. He lives here most of the year, but his family home is in Charleston.”

“You haven’t told me about him.”

She doesn’t come up to face me. “You know. It hasn’t been serious, just a few hook ups. I think he’s smitten with me. He comes from all the right stock. Still…”

I decide not to press her. She hasn’t mentioned him before, but I’ll trust what she tells me.

“You kick, you know? That’s why I have these pillows here.”

“I do not,” I whine.

“You do too. I swear I might have been better off on the couch. At least I wouldn’t be black and blue.”

I almost believe her until she bursts out laughing. I toss a pillow at her.

“It would be stupid for one of us to sleep on the couch when I have this queen-sized bed.” I push up to my feet, not really ready to get up for the day.

Our conversation, like my brain this morning, drifts from topic to topic.

“If you wear those to bed, I know now why you aren’t getting laid.”

I glance down at my oversized tee-shirt and fuzzy sleep pants with tiny pigs printed all over them.

“What’s wrong with pigs?” I ask.

She sits up and as I make my way toward the door to go to the bathroom, I add, “Ducks aren’t any better.”

She starts making quacking noises and I have a nostalgic moment. It’s so strong I have a wild moment of wanting to move back to Charleston so I’ll have more moments like this.

“Don’t go all lezzy on me. Don’t get me wrong, a little girl on girl action never hurt anyone. But you’re looking at me like you should look at dick.”

I feel my mouth turn into a pout as I change course and throw myself at her. “I missed you so much,” I say as I land on the bed and crush her in a hug.

“Okay, okay, I missed you, too.” She squeezes back and then I let her go. She sits up and props herself against the headboard.

“I know you told me everything last night, but we really didn’t talk about it. I’m still mad at you for not telling me until now.”

I sigh and glance at my cuticles, which suddenly need my attention.

“Don’t you mutter at me,” she says.

I can’t remember saying anything.

“You ended up in bed with Drew and you say you didn’t do the dirty with him. And the way you were all disheveled at the door. I would have sworn you had sex with him if you hadn’t said otherwise. And you wonder why Louise is rusty.”

“Louise isn’t rusty. Sex is like riding a bike.”

“In your case, a rusty bike, considering how long it’s been.”

I fall back into the wall of pillows. “What am I going to do?”

“I can’t answer that for you. Part of me thinks that he’s obviously still crazy about you and you would be crazy not to jump at that chance.”

“How can I? Why doesn’t he hate me?” I bury my face in my hands.

“Hun, he may be able to blame you for leaving. But he knows damn well why you left.”

I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. “Every time I look at him, the guilt, it hurts.”

She lets out a heavy sigh. “I haven’t said this before because you had too much going on then. And you didn’t need advice like this. But you need to forgive yourself. You did what you thought you had to do. He’s obviously not mad at you. And it can’t be easy for him either. If he’s willing to give it a shot…”

“He wants me to call him Andy, like that somehow wipes the slate clean and gives us a brand new start.”

“Drew?” she asks. I nod and she adds, “When I saw him I swear it was like seeing a ghost.”

I glare at her. “Too soon?” She wears an I’m sorry expression.

“A ghost, really?” I wave a hand.

“I’m sorry, Cate. Drew – Andy—what the fuck, he’s here now. You have to decide what you want and maybe going out tonight is the answer.”

“How is that?

“There will be plenty of men—”

I cut her off. “How will that help?”

She holds out a hand. “Wait. Plenty of men, rich men—”

“Money doesn’t move me, Jenna.”

“Will you let me have a word?”

I sigh, then nod.

“If you keep an open mind, and you meet someone that interests you, then you know you’re ready to move on. If you keep hiding out, how will you know if he’s the answer or not?”

She has a point. “Fine, but I’m not sleeping with anyone.”

“You don’t have to.”

“What? You’re giving up your love quest for Louise?”

“I’m not giving up. I’m giving you a pass for tonight. Plus, I have a feeling the man of your dreams will be there tonight.”

“Are you saying that because Drew won’t be there?”

“I’m saying it because I have this feeling in my gut. Plus it doesn’t hurt tomorrow is Halloween. Something’s in the air and tonight’s masquerade ball is a grown up version of a Halloween party. Lots of tricks and mischief. Time for you to give up some of your treats.”

Her eyes spark to life and I know that look. I groan. I also know if I don’t get out of here, she’ll make plans for us to go to the spa or something. So I get to my feet and make a beeline for the bathroom. As I shower, I think she’s right. I haven’t given anyone a real shot since him. And maybe it is time for me to spread my wings and find out if this bird is ready to fly.

A few hours later after coffee and breakfast at a café near my apartment, a delivery arrives. A woman artfully carries several bags into my apartment.

“What’s this?” I ask Jenna, hiding behind the closed door of my bedroom because I don’t want to ask in front of the impatient looking woman.

“It’s the Belfour treatment,” she says like that’s the answer to everything. When I fold my arms over my chest, she flutters her lashes and sighs. “Kenneth is providing my dress and yours although he doesn’t know it yet.”

That’s Jenna for you. She’s going to stick the guy with the cost for my dress too. “Jenna, I can’t.”

“You can because if you don’t go, I don’t go.” She shrugs like that’s the end of it.

Only it is, because protesting doesn’t work. I’m forced back into the living room as the woman unzips gorgeous dress after gorgeous dress from individual garment bags by well-known high end designers. There are shoes and clutches as well, specially selected for each outfit. There is even lingerie. The woman, whose nose couldn’t be any higher in the air, finally leaves after showing us everything and promising to pick up whatever we don’t want the next day.

“Come on, pick one and then we can check each other out.”

I point to the bags. “No, you first. This is your day, Cinderella. Your fairy godmother just left.”

Her mouth purses. “I’m not Cinderella at this ball. I have my Prince and it’s time you find yours, or at least one to try out for the night.”

“Fine, but Cinderella doesn’t pick first. Her evil step-sisters get the best dresses.”

She looks aghast, pointing at herself. “I’m evil?”

“Yes, yes you are.” I laugh. “You’re the one that wants me to get dolled up and laid by some stranger as long as he can get to my glass slipper.”

“Well, true.”

She makes a fuss spinning around and leaving the room in a flourish with all the bags. She tries on the gowns and settles for a royal blue dress with lacy appliques that hide certain body parts while revealing skin in a way that is going to make Kenneth’s jaw drop.

“Here, try this one.”

She hands me a pure white dress. It isn’t the one I would have picked, but she reminds me that Cinderella doesn’t get a choice. So much for my big mouth. The gown dips low in a plunging neckline. If not for a sheer piece of fabric across the middle, I would pop out of it. Still, I won’t be able to wear a bra and by the clingy look of the dress, I might not be able to wear underwear either.

After getting into it, I know I will have to go totally bare underneath the dress. When I walk out, Jenna excitedly claps. “That’s it. That’s the one.”

“I haven’t tried on anything else,” I complain.

“You don’t have to. Your body is perfect for it.”

I hate to admit it, but the dress is stunning. There are no price tags, but I know the dress costs a pretty penny based on the store name printed on the business card the woman handed us before she left.

After changing back into our own clothes, we walk down the street to one of my favorite restaurants and eat a light lunch. Jenna’s afraid if we eat too heavy we might be too bloated to fit our dresses well and I have to agree. The fabric on both is unforgiving. Every curve and rut will show.

Later, I shower and spend an hour flat ironing my hair to add some curls as Jenna helps me create a half up and down do. I can’t help but feel like a princess when a limo arrives to pick us up. The ball is at a place I am unfamiliar with, so I’m glad for the ride. We are ushered out in red carpet style fashion, and even stop to pose for pictures before we enter. I recognize the Speaker of the House, who stands behind us. Although that is kind of cool, I wonder if all the men will be silver foxes or if some younger guys will make an appearance tonight.

Inside, a pleasant melody plays and some people dance as others mingle. But it’s too quiet and I can’t put my finger on it.

I slip on the white mask trimmed in silver with a feather plume on one side that was in a separate bag inside the garment bag for my dress. Jenna slips on her royal blue mask covered in black lace.

“Jenna,” says a man with striking features and hair dark as midnight.

“Kenneth,” she says with a squeal and practically leaps into his arms.

They only have eyes for each other for a moment and I kick myself for not asking more about him because I’ve only been caught up in my own life.

“Kenneth, this is my best friend, Cate McKnight. Cate this is Kenneth Belfour.”

He takes my hand and kisses it. “Cate, I’ve heard so much about you.”

I catch his accent and smile. I nod because I don’t want to lie and repeat what he said. Before I have a chance to say anything, a stern looking woman in a server’s attire appears. She puts her finger to her lips.

Kenneth appears amused, but cordially nods, and places a finger against his lips in acknowledgement. I turn to Jenna with wide eyes when I finally get why it’s so eerily quiet despite the music. No one is talking. Jenna shrugs. I shake my head to let her know we will talk about it later. How did she expect me to meet anyone if we aren’t allowed to talk?

A man walks up next to Kenneth and points at me. Kenneth smiles and gives the thumbs up. The guy takes my hand and kisses it. Seems to be the thing to do. I find myself dipping in a curtsey. He gestures to the dance floor and I agree because Jenna and Kenneth have conveniently disappeared.

At first the music is classical and we dance like we are at court in front of a king. I almost wish I’d known what kind of dance would have been required so I could have taken lessons. However, as the night wears on, the music changes into something a bit more contemporary. My partner is relentless and I begin to tire of being on my feet. Thank goodness, my stomach growls are absorbed by the beat that continues to pick up with more heady sounds. Jenna’s salad choice for my lunch has fled the building and I’m starving.

I’m about to request a break when another man appears. His salty but more peppery hair is distinctive. That and Ted’s mouth are a dead giveaway as to who he is. He nods at my partner and the guy nods back before stepping away. I’m not given the chance to agree or disagree to the hand off before Ted’s sweeps me away. He seems to favor the formal way of dancing as he sweeps me across the floor in contradiction to the music. I wonder how I don’t stumble or step on his toes as he leads me through complicated steps. When the song ends, I shake my head.

Either I’m dizzy from him or lack of food and water. I gesture with my hand like tipping a glass to my lips as I glance above at the large chandeliers that dot across the room.

He nods, takes my hand, and leads me to a table with drinks and finger foods. A line of waiters appears in front of him with several trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. They take his attention off me for a second. As hungry as I am, I cram a cracker with some sort of substance on top into my mouth like an errant child.

When he turns back amused, I know I’m caught. I cover my mouth and chew quickly. He hands me a flute of champagne and I immediately drain it to clear my throat. We laugh before being hushed by the noise police. They seem to be everywhere. After a warning from a librarian looking woman, he winks at me conspiratorially after she wanders off to scold other party goers. He picks up a different cracker type thing that is topped with caviar. I allow him to place the bite size portion in my mouth. I chew while he waits for my reaction. For a second my eyes roll back as I want to moan at how good it is, but I know better. The noise police aren’t far away. He reaches out toward me with his thumb poised to wipe something away from my face. Only an arm tangles from behind me and grabs me around my waist. I’m scooted to the dance floor leaving Ted looking on wide eyed. I wipe at my mouth fearing I won’t have another chance.

The music changes from contemporary to a timeless melody. I recognize the beat of a tango immediately. Although I’ve never danced one, I’m led expertly in the movements as I catch sight of my dance partner. I’m so surprised my mouth must hang open the entire time. He dictates every move I make and we must look amazing, because I can see people nearby watching. His mask doesn’t hide that lush dirty blonde hair and I’m lost in blue eyes that take me places I’m not sure I can recover from. He dips me just as the song ends with his mouth hovering over my neck for long seconds until he places a gentle kiss on my throat. Clapping ensues and he rights me on my feet. I’m left to watch as he disappears into the crowd, leaving me standing alone. However, as I search for him, I spot two guys that seem familiar from that drunken night out on the sidewalk with Mandy over a week ago. I’m pretty sure they’re his friends. They stare at me like they know the depths of my sins.

Embarrassed, I turn away and head toward the food table where I snatch a glass of wine. I guzzle it and grab another. I open my clutch in search of my phone. We may not be allowed to talk, but no one said we can’t text.

Me: 911

Jenna: What’s the trouble?

Me: He’s here.

Jenna: Who’s here?

I don’t get to answer before Ted appears. I slip the phone back in my clutch as he takes a third drink from my hand and offers me what looks like bruschetta. Silently, he tells me to eat something before I drink too much. He’s taking care of me. And maybe that’s what I need for the night.

Thankfully, Ted’s attention is silently taken away from me as a woman walks up and steps into his personal space. I pick up another glass of wine and drain it before slipping into the crowd of people. I have no business with Ted. My head is miles away from making the right decisions tonight.

On the dance floor, I start to lose myself to the warm buzz that percolates in my brain from a couple of glasses of wine. I move without care to the Latin beat in the middle of a crowd, trying to forget what it felt like to be in Andy’s arms. He came and left and I try to find peace in the music. If he wanted me, he would be there.

The next song begins with an erotic trumpet solo that’s sad yet sexy all the same. When the drums set in, the beat begins to pick up and my hips move on their own accord. I see several guys watching me, including Kenneth’s friend and it only spurs me on. I raise my hands in abandon as I shimmy and slowly bend at the knees swaying my ass in a suggestive way that makes one guy bite his lip. In the back of my mind I hope that Andy sees me and wishes he hadn’t walked away earlier. I continue to play with fire as I give good eye contact with a few of the men. Jenna is right. One of them is really cute. Maybe I should give someone else a try.

A man’s possessive hands land on my waist. Even though he is behind me, I already know who they belong to. I have no idea how we ended up in the same place at the same time. Maybe fate. But I don’t allow myself to think anymore. Thinking so far hasn’t won me any prizes.

The melody carries me away to a tropical place where everything happens under a forgiving moon. His lips land on my neck, and I combust in raging heat. I rub against him, hoping he feels the fire he stokes within me. His hands move over my abdomen to press me further back into him. Then his magic fingers glide up and he’s seconds away from cupping my breast. I don’t care that we are dangerously close to appearing as though we are making love in front of everyone there. I want him in a bad way.

We continue our private yet public dance and capture the attention of the crowd. Lost in the beat, several couples around us have taken their dances to another place that isn’t a ballroom. We are no longer the pioneers in changing the mood of the party to something much more seductive. As the sultry beat drones on, I long for four walls and a bed. I miss the fire of passion that this man can create in me.

It’s the finality of the music with its mournful tones that remind me of the past. I want to stay there with him, but pain is like a lance in my chest. It has me running away as the song ends on a trumpeted chord. I don’t look back for fear I might turn around and run back to him. I make it out onto a balcony breathing in frosty breaths. Despite the chilly night, the air is hot with desire and I’m gasping for breath. I hold on the frozen railing looking down as the DC’s foot and car traffic continuously pass despite the late hour.

Why can’t life be simple? I want to give up control and just feel, but I’m afraid to lose myself again. The pain nearly killed me before. I’m not sure I can do it again.

I hear the faint click as the terrace doors are shut. A quick glance over my shoulder and I see curtains on the window paneled door segment us from the crowd inside. He approaches from my blind side. A warm body, hotter than the sins I run from, presses to me. I begin to face him, but his hands are on my throat and chin, directing me to face forward, his message firm and clear.

He hasn’t uttered a word, but I know his touch. His other hand snakes across my right fabric-covered breast and manages to undo the body tape on the left that holds the material secure to my skin. He slips his fingers under the fabric to caress the left breast. Just the briefest contact causes my nipple to peak. He nuzzles the back of my head as he presses his hardness against my bottom. I find myself pushing back. It could be the wine, but I’m tired of fighting. I need this more than I want to admit.

The music floats in through the seam of the door and I find myself grinding against him along with the tempo. He shoves a leg between mine and spreads them. His possession is all encompassing as his hand moves lower from my breast. I wonder how long he’s been watching me tonight. Could his intense desire be born out of jealously?

The slit in back of my dress plays an important role when his hand slips between my thighs and cups me as if to brand me. He easily parts my bare folds and isn’t gentle when he thrusts two fingers inside my core. I can feel the wetness flow down onto his hand as he pumps into me a couple of times.

My head falls forward and I grip the railing tighter, the coldness forgotten as I allow his invasion. The cars on the street down below don’t matter. I want to feel for the first time in far too long. I moan and suddenly his fingers are gone. His middle finger reappears to silence me first before gliding over my bottom lip. A second—maybe two—then he slips the digit into my mouth, forcing me to taste my arousal on his fuck me finger. I don’t even care as I wrap my lips tight around it before he pulls it back out.

He bites my neck, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to send early warning shocks through my center. He takes hold of my throat again as he works what I think might be his zipper. He lifts my leg with a hand underneath my knee and positions me. I’m surprised when his length bumps against my opening and I feel that he’s somehow managed to protect himself and me from what comes milliseconds later.

Rewarded for all the time I waited for this moment, I gasp as he pushes into me. His hand comes up from my throat to cover my mouth as if the noise police will show up. He fills me in a way I didn’t think I would remember. I bite his finger—none too gently– when it gets too close to my teeth. He doesn’t make a noise. He continues to move in me, forcing the railing to make contact with my clit in a way that starts the countdown to my orgasm.

With a hand to muffle my cries, he wedges himself deeper inside me with every punishing stroke. He bends me slightly forward and the angle allows him to hit that spot that shoots off my first orgasm like a firecracker. He isn’t done. He rolls himself inside me to stroke my g-spot over and over until I’m building for another explosion I’m not sure I can handle. His hand leaves my mouth and somehow he has my dress parted so that he’s able to cradle my center and move the pad of his thumb over my clit as he continues to fill me inside. The scream that escapes my throat is muted by the note the trumpet hits in the crescendo of the song.

Then he is gone, leaving me to almost crumple to my knees. The force of both orgasms weakens me to the point that gravity begins to pull me down. He spins me around and I get a flash of hot azure eyes before he guides me to my knees with his larger than life cock in front of my face. Condom gone, two fingers that still taste of me are there to open my mouth as he guides himself inside. He sweeps my hair aside as I give into his silent demand. I hollow my cheeks and tighten my lips around his thick length. Even at this angle, he can’t fully sheath himself in my mouth.

I swirl my tongue as I bob up and down him. His grip tightens in my hair almost painfully and it’s not long before I taste the effects of his orgasm shooting to the back of my throat. I see the muscles in his jaw clench as he muffles his own sounds of pleasure. I swallow everything before he finally pulls out. He neatly tucks himself back in his pants before drawing me to my feet. He spins me around and dusts me off.

At first, I’m too afraid to face him. My lips still tingle from everything we just did. Then I hear the patio doors open, and I turn around. I’m too late to say anything; his dark blond head has already been swallowed by the crowd. I stand there wondering what the hell just happened. I’m literally shaking when I pull out my phone. It takes a few times before I’m successful at texting Jenna. There is no way I can stay. I feel the wetness on my legs. The lighting might be dim inside the ballroom, but I imagine my white dress isn’t as pristine as it was when I walked in. I’m going to catch a cab home and text Jenna that. I dare not make a move until I get a chime back signaling I have an incoming text.

Jenna: Wait for me.

Me: No. Stay. I’m going straight home. You have a key.

I’d given her one in case she wanted to stay out with her guy and come back late.

Jenna: Are you sure?

Me: Absolutely. I’ll catch a cab.

Jenna: Text me when you get there.

Me: I will

The party is in full swing. I’m not the only person who’s being naughty and uncaring of peeping eyes. I worm my way through the hedonistic crowd. Mandy was right about this party. And what I’ve done isn’t me. I don’t have sex in public places. To top it off, he left without so much as a goodbye or even a thank you for the fuck. We were alone. He could have broken the ‘be silent’ rules if he wanted.

Still, he’d never been like that with me before. How much did I really know about him anymore? Maybe there’s a reason behind the new name. I would have never guessed he would have come to a party like this. Then again, who am I to judge? I’m here.

I push through the doors where two large men in suits stand on either side. I hit the elevator button and pray I will be alone. Luck is on my side and I make it down to the lobby without another soul getting on. I’m practically running to the street with my hand raised for a cab when a cool voice calls out.

“Cate.”

I turn and Ted is standing in front of an open limo door.

“Do you need a ride?”

I almost say no, but I find myself nodding.

“Come,” he says waving me over.


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