Authors: Lena Black
He’s silent. He doesn’t speak, move, or breathe even. He lies there, peering up at the ceiling with a flurry of emotions rushing through his eyes.
“Let’s rejoin my family,” he finally says sternly.
“Are you alright?” I ask, coiling my arm about his waist and resting my head on his wide chest.
“To be honest, I’m a bit relieved.”
“Because I haven’t run?”
“Yes.”
“Ye have little fait
h,” I remark and kiss his chin.
W
e don’t leave each other’s side for the rest of the party, except when I excused myself and headed to the little subs room to freshen up and tinkle. We drink delectably sweet cotton candy martinis and eat buttery popcorn and salty peanuts while we watch the performers about the estate. We chat with senators, actors, internet geniuses, models, and San Francisco’s elite. We spend time with his parents and sisters. Olivia and Dante have been pleasantly absent.
An enchanting, melodious ballad drifts across the property. Beautifully intense violins and other instruments I can’t identify, accompany a lovely chanting female voice.
Hunt takes my hand and nods towards the dancing crowd under the tent. I shake my head, and Aubrey offers to take my drink. I hand it over to her, and Hunt leads me to the dance floor under the large white circus tent. Once we’re in the center, he places his other large hand gently on my upper back and waltz’s us about in long, agile strides, twirling and sweeping me about the semi-crowded space.
People move out of our way as he glides me gracefully across the floor, spinning me every few steps with a lithe ease, making it seem so effortless. We flow perfectly throughout the room. Our eyes fixated on the other as he takes me away, sweeping me off my feet.
I found him. I found my dance partner for life.
He moves with confidence and grace as we drift amongst the gawking patrons studying us with curious fascination. They have never seen him with anyone. I’m sure it’s comes as quite a shock. I’m positive most thought he was gay with a lack of any serious girlfriends in his life, impeccable sense of style, and flawless manners. If I didn’t know him in the biblical sense, I would probably assume the same. Few straight men these days behave or present themselves in such a manner.
I’m yanked out of my reverie when the music ends, and we come to a stop. He takes my hand and guides me back over to his family standing off to the side.
“You we’re lovely out there. Both of you,” his mother commends us.
“Thank you,” I acknowledge, and Hunt gives a head nod.
Aubrey hands back my cotton candy martini, and I take a nice draw.
“Darling, have you seen your sister and brother?” Vivian inquires, scanning the partygoers around us. “I haven’t seen them since you arrived.”
I feel my face flush, and I choke on the sweet, pink liquid, sputtering and coughing. Damian rubs my back to ease the coughing fit and replies, “Yes, they we’re in the house together.”.
“Ellie, are you alright, dear?” Vivian asks, fretfulness wrinkling her normally smooth porcelain skin.
I realize I’m nervously suckling on my thumb nail. I catch myself, ripping my thumb from my mouth. “I’m fine,” I reply sweetly, with a huge grin.
She pats my shoulder and returns my pleasant smile. “We should have lunch. Just the girls.”
“That would be wonderful. I’d like that.”
Hunt tenses next to me and clears his throat, but I take his sisters method for handling Damian and ignore him.
“Great!” Aubrey cheers. “I’ll call you next week to make plans.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Damian tells us you work for View,” Viv, as her husband refers to her, inquires.
“Yes. I was recently promoted, actually.”
“Oh, superb. Congratulations.” Vivian applauds.
“Thank you,” I reply shyly, uncomfortable with the attention.
“Isn’t View the magazine Olivia heads, the one Damian just purchased?” Keira asks, flummoxed.
“Nothing gets past you,” Aubrey teases, and I smirk at them. They have always reminded me of Maya and I.
“Oh, shut your trap,” she giggles out.
“We should do something with Maya. I’m sure she would love to see you both,” I remark.
“Yes. I haven’t seen her in like forever. We can go shopping,” Keira suggests.
Knowing me well, Aubrey and Damian reply in unison, “Ellie, hates shopping.”
“I really do,” I half laugh out, “But Maya loves to shop. I’ll give you her number. Maybe you can call her and get together. She loves a good shopping partner, besides my mom.”
“How is your mother, dear?” Vivian inquires.
“Good. She’s working with many charities. My parents are currently in Hawaii for their anniversary.”
“Have her call me when they get back. We haven’t spoken in ages. Damian will give you my number, and you can pass it on to her.”
“Of course I will.”
Damian glances down at his Cartier and up at me with a ready-to-go look. I take his wrist and check the time.
One fifteen?
Where did the time go?
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Mother.” He steps into her and leans in, planting a chaste kiss on each cheek. “Aubrey, Keira.”
He nods his head, and they grab him, bringing him in for a group hug. He groans, and they giggle.
“We love you, too.” They reply, releasing him. They walk over to me, snatching me up into a suffocating hug. “We’ll see you soon. Call me. Damian can give you our numbers,” Aubrey says softly in my ear.
“I will. See you soon.”
“Have a safe trip home,” Keira says in my other ear.
Home. Our home.
I get a surge of excitement when I realize the moment I set foot into The Artemis I will be home, my new sanctuary. I grin like an idiot and notice Hunt gazing heatedly at me. He’s ready to play, and I’m more than happy to be his playmate.
I pull away from the girls, giving them a kiss on the cheek before hugging Vivian goodbye. She whispers her best wishes into my ear and says, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For loving my son,” she replies gently, giving me a big kiss on the cheek and patting my back.
“There’s no need to thank me. I’m the lucky one.”
“You both are. Enjoy the rest of your evening, and tell your mother to contact me. Maybe we’ll do a day at the spa.”
“I’d love it. Enjoy the rest of the party.”
“Drive safely.”
We break, and I take my place at Damian’s side. He clutches my hand tightly, fingers entwining seamlessly with mine. Every part of our bodies fit like puzzle pieces connecting perfectly.
He tilts down, so his lips graze me ear, and whispers, “I can’t wait to get inside of you.”
I shiver
everywhere
.
W
e arrive at the dungeon around two. We enter, and he invites me to take a seat on the white couch. I comply, and the fireplace turns on, casting the room with a warm, golden glow. The space is decorated in intricate dark wood pieces, giving it a comforting masculine elegance.
“Would you like a drink?” he inquires, standing at the bar in the kitchen.
“Yes, please.”
‘
Gymnopedie’ by Erik Satie floats through the room, creating a tranquil, soothing setting. I’m swept up in the beautiful sorrow of the piano as it mournfully serenades me.
I admire the room as he pours a burgundy wine into two glasses. I stare into the hypnotic radiance of the blazing fire, entranced. I ease back into the couch and lax into the plush cushion.
“Your drink,” Hunt interrupts my mesmerized state, handing me my glass of wine.
“Thank you.” I take it, nodding gratefully, and sip on the excellent wine. He takes a seat next to me, extending an arm along the back of the couch, crossing his ankle over his knee. He drinks the scarlet wine and watches the fire dance gracefully in the darkness. I watch our shadows cast against the wall, bobbing and flickering in the firelight.
“Is this place mine? Could I come here if I ever needed to?”
“Yes, if you like,” he replies, obviously a bit taken back by my inquiry. “Why would you need to come here?”
“To escape family, you, the world.”
“Yes. You are more than welcome to stay here.”
“Thank you.” I smile softly then take a long sip of wine.
Mmmm.
“No need to thank me. It’s yours as much as it’s mine, especially now that you’ve agreed to move in with me.”
“Are you happy?” I inquire, glimpsing over at Hunt.
“Ridiculously.”
I scoot over and curl into my nook. “When do we begin our session?”
“Are you in a rush?”
“No, but you said you have a meeting tomorrow, and I don’t want to keep you up all night.”
“I want you to keep me up all night. I can sleep when I’m dead.”
“That won’t help you when you’re passing out in the middle of your conference.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m a big boy.”
“Yes, you are,” I retort in a kittenish tone, glimpsing over my shoulder.
“Oh, Gabrielle, what am I going to do with you?”
I turn to him and reply with the straightest of expressions, “Fuck me until we’re raw.”
His eyes briefly widen then narrow, becoming heavy with desire. “Fuck, you’re a dirty, dirty girl.”
“You make me want to be naughty.”
“I see where this is going, and we’ll head there soon, but right now, I would rather we unwind and talk a little. It’s been a long night.”
“You can say that again.”
“It’s been a long night,” he repeats, simpering to himself, with the wine glass lightly pressed against his curved lips, about to take a sip.
I nudge his side with my elbow, fumbling his attempt to drink his wine, and smirk up at him. “You think you’re so cute.”
“Cute is never a word I would use to describe myself.”
“Oh, come now. You’re downright adorable,” I tease, twisting about and kissing his cheek.
“Gee, thanks.” He smirks down at me with an arched brow, amused.
The fire plays off his face and hair, giving him a golden glow. His lush mane is a delicious caramel hue with honey and chocolate streaks blending seamlessly. I could comb my fingers through it all day. His light green eyes glimmer in the soft, amber light of the flames. He licks his supple lips, and the flicker of the fire sparkles along the sheen of moisture. I must be gawking blankly because he snaps his fingers in front of my face, bringing me back to earth.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, just admiring the view.” I smirk up at him softly.
He smiles reservedly at me and takes a sip of wine.
“It’s only a pretty face, don’t be fooled, Elle,” he retorts dolefully, staring vacantly into the fire. “Sometimes the prettiest packages contain the ugliest offerings.”
I squirm uncomfortably and decide to change the subject, though I know I shouldn’t because of the day’s endless parade of mishaps and discoveries, but I cannot resist.
“Are we going to talk about today?”
He comes back to me and answers casually, “Yes, amongst other things.”
“Where do you want to start?”
“The beginning is always a good place.”
“Ok,” I reply in a tone as to say you-first.
“Would you like to explain what happened with Mr. McQueen?”
“Are you referring to lunch or the opening?”
“You’re behavior at lunch was appalling,” he replies, shaking his head in a reprimanding manner. “It was very selfish of you to give him hope…Not to mention, your blatant lack of respect for me. I’m not happy with it, and you will be punished for it, but I’d much prefer to discuss this evening’s transgressions.”
I fell the oh-shit look wash over my burning face as I take a mouthful of wine, swishing it around before swallowing. I nervously clear my throat then answer, “He tried to kiss me, but I didn’t allow him to.”
“I saw you, Gabrielle. You were inviting it.”
“For a moment,” I reply, shamefully staring down at my glass of wine, “It was hard to resist with our song filling my ears and champagne swirling in my head. I realized what was happening and stopped it.”
“He didn’t seem to get the message,” he huffs, taking another sip of wine.
“He’s still in love with me. I can’t help that.”
“No, you can’t…The question is, do you still love him?”
“On some level, I suppose I always will,” I answer candidly.
I turn toward him, curling my legs up and setting them onto his lap, and I spot the look of hurt in his eyes. “Do you love him more than me?”
“No, of course not,” I reply with a disgusted, pained tone in my voice. “He is a part of my past, and he meant a great deal to me, but I do not feel for him the way I feel for you...I don’t love anyone as much as I love you.”
He breathes out a sigh of relief, culling me into him.