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Finally the last guests have gone and I can think of something other than entertaining assholes. To be frank, I can think about that short heated encounter with Miss Elizabeth Lovell.
I sit at the bar alone, shaking the ice in my whiskey before finishing the last drop. I pour myself another with an unusual feeling in my trousers. A stiffness and tension. I am a creature who enjoys fucking as much as any man. But it takes a special kind of girl to make me go hard at just the thought. The thirst I have to see her again is overwhelming.
Why?
What made her so special?
For one, her scent. She smelt like sweet honey and roses. She smelt like life. She also gave off subtle tones of desire and fear. She feared desiring me. And that is any man’s Achilles heel, to see a woman trying to hide how turned on she is. It’s a game of foreplay to me.
Secondly, she was out of her depth. She didn’t belong here, she didn’t want to be here, and she intrigued me; made me smile.
And last of all, but most importantly, her beauty. There’s nothing more impeccable than a woman who has no idea of her beauty. She looked like she had come for a job interview, but was the most stunning thing in the room. She didn’t need to wear a gown and fine jewellery like the other women. Just her presence was enough. She is the old school natural kind of perfection, which is rare for me to find now. And I need more of her. Much more.
“Adrien,” Sara interrupts my thoughts. “You have a guest in your room.”
What Sara actually means, is paid pleasure. Not a hooker, but a dedicated shameless employee, who understands that we executives need to wind down after these events.
“Not tonight Sara.”
“Well I’m not telling her to go. Besides, you look hungry. You should take advantage of this. You don’t often get to fuck and feed.”
“Sara, your being vulgar. And what was all that about with that jumped up little dick, Nathan. You can do better than that.”
She strolls behind the bar and pours herself a shot of gin.
“It’s none of your business.” She shrugs her shoulders. “He was cute.”
“Cute.” I snicker. “Since when did you go for cute?”
She drinks her gin and smiles. “He was accommodating, and you have no room to talk. I did see you. Is that why you want to take a rain check on what waits for you upstairs, that little piece with no dress sense you were flirting with? Poor girl.” I don’t smile back at her, I’m feeling too protective of the memory I have of Miss Lovell. “Fucking hell, you like her. Adrien, not once have I seen that look on your face. You know in our line of work and life that’s a dangerous thing to feel. Look at what happened to me.”
“Sara, who I show interest in, is no concern of yours.”
“So you’re interested to the point of what, screwing or something else?” I refuse to answer. My answer is written on my face, irritation. “You should have just fucked her.” She continues to rile me. “Now you’ve got this look in your eyes. Like you’re drifting off into some fantasy land where you can be normal. We don’t fall in love.”
“Do you know what Sara.” I stand up, finish my drink, and head to the doors. “You’re the last person who should offer advice on relationships.”
“Maybe. Just go upstairs, have some fun, and get that Elizabeth out of your head. You’ll feel better,” she calls out as I stroll into the lobby.
I stay here at Churchill’s several times a year after big events. The suite is mine and fully paid for. It’s comfortable, not that I use it for sleeping. I use it to simply pass the time.
I open the door to find what I expected, the bare skin of a woman partially wrapped in white cotton sheets. I sigh, bothered by her being in my bed, not feeling a single thing as she rises up to grin playfully at me.
I’ve been with this girl before, around a year ago. Pretty little thing with a sour taste to her skin, completely obsessed with pleasing me. Every time I go along with the sordid affair until the girl is worn out. That’s when I get my reprieve, when it’s over. Nothing truly gets me, or so I thought until tonight.
I slip my hand into my trouser pocket and take out a clip of fifties.
“Get dressed. Tonight is off.” I drop the money on the mattress by her feet, not liking the look of dismay on her face.
“Why?”
“No, I’m sorry, but I don’t need to explain a thing to you. Take the money and go. Sara will see you get home safely.”
I loosen my tie and turn my back on her, only to hear her approaching me. I can smell her breath, hear her heart, and sense her desperation. Her aura is nothing compared to Miss Lovell’s. It’s like choosing between diamond and stone. This girl has no life in her.
I turn to see her tilting her head, while moving her hair aside. She is trying to entice me, but tonight it’s not going to work. I snigger at her.
“Thanks, but no. I’m not hungry.”
“Are you hungry for this?” Unexpected and fast, she somehow slides her hand down my trousers and begins to stroke my cock.
I growl out. Now I’m angry. I grab her face and show her my fury.
“Take your hand off me.” Quivering and fidgeting she does as she’s told. “Take the money and go.” I release her face, as my intention is not to hurt her.
She scurries away, grabs her clothing, and changes as she rushes to the door. I blow out, listening to the door bang and the frame rattle.
“Fuck!” I run my hand down my face.
I guess Sara was right. I should have stayed with Elizabeth and as the evening ended, coaxed her to my room. Tasted her flesh and felt her skin against mine. But then I wouldn’t have this urge. An urge I’ve not felt for many years which is almost innocent. I see her as a quest, and leaving her tonight might make her desire and curiosity grow. And when I do see her again, it will be uncontainable. I can be a gentleman with great patience, and then I will see if she is really worth it. For now, her being in my mind’s eye entertains me enough.