Deceived - Part 1 New York (5 page)

The area between my legs
was quivering with excitement and I had to respond. I hiked up my
dress, slid my hand into my lace, thong panties and gently started
rubbing my finger on top of my clit. It felt delicious. I
involuntarily let out a little moan. I was imagining Patrick’s warm
breath on my neck, his lips gently touching my skin and the soft
spot between my shoulder and neck. With the panties now down my
black boots, I started rubbing harder, as I imagined his warm hands
fondling and squeezing tight around my voluptuous breasts and the
tips of his fingers massaging my nipples.

In my fantasy, I was
unzipping his pants and his hard cock was straining against his
boxers; delivering a small drop of pre-cum, evidence of his lust
for me. I imagined that I tore his shorts down with one hand and
with a firm grip I wrapped my other hand around his enormous penis
stroking it hard. I imagined his hand moving towards my bare mound,
as my fingers were now running deep circles around my now engorged
clit. I was now so close to exploding in a massive orgasm but a
loud screeching voice abruptly interrupted me.

“
Is that you in there
Chloe? What are you doing?”

Fuck!! It’s the
Baroness!

She had been standing
right outside my bathroom stall and had clearly heard everything.
Still feeling heady from the alcohol and the blood rush of my
sexual excitement, I rolled to my left and my shoulder hit the door
of the stall making the door lock clatter. I laughed a drunken
laugh.
Busted.

I rearranged my
undergarment and smoothed my skirt back down. Unlocking the door I
stumbled out of the stall, slurring my speech, “What’s up
B-Baroness? I put emphasis on the B sound and practically spat the
words in her face.
Baroness Bitch! I
wanted to say.
 I was teetering from
the drinks but somehow in my delirium, I found a renewed
determination to stand up to this woman.

“
Do you really think being
a Baroness makes you special?“

Her eyes narrowed seething
with impending anger. I could tell from her look that she wasn’t
used to being confronted in this manner.

“
I may be from Iowa but at
least I have a tight little ass, unlike your droopy old sagging
butt. So take your Botox laden lips and please get out of my
way?”

I attempted to brush past
the Baroness to re-apply my lip gloss in the mirror, when I felt a
vice-like grip on my throat. I had been spun around by her maneuver
and I felt the air being pushed out of my lungs, as I was slammed
up against the bathroom wall. The hard jolt sent a ringing in my
ears. I felt a hand sliding up under my dress and grabbing my
crotch hard, as the other hand on my throat made it nearly
impossible for me to breath.

“
You have absolutely no
idea what you are up against you dirty little cunt. If I were you,
I'd run home, pack my bags and go back to that miserable little
town I came from,” she warned.

I heard a muffled rip of my
lace thong, which was still soaking wet from masturbating. My
peripheral vision warped into a black blur, as I felt two
fingers grotesquely thrust into my vagina, and the baroness grunted
into my face, “I bet that you were fantasizing about dear Patrick
fucking you like this while you were masturbating in there. Keep
dreaming. He’s a million miles out of your league, you fucking
little whore.”

A wave of nausea turned my
stomach as her sour alcohol breath spewed out the words. I was
nearly on the brink of losing consciousness, when the Baroness
finally released her death grip on my throat; a grip born out of
jealousy and hatred. Completely startled and shocked by the brutal
attack, I buried my face in my hands, and slowly melted down the
wall of the ladies room to the marble floor, as the Baroness
exited.

I was crumpled on the floor
inside Scalini’s Ladies room, for what seemed like an eternity,
though it had probably been not more than a couple of minutes, when
the soft whoosh sound of air being sucked in by an open door fell
on my ears. An elderly woman with white hair and wearing a soft
pink dress entered the restroom.

“
Oh dear God child, are you
okay?” she asked while helping me to my feet. I was desperately
clutching the strap of my purse in one hand and I could see in the
mirror over her shoulder that my hair was all messed up. It must
have happened as I slid down the wall. I felt embarrassed and a
slight flush washed over my face.

“
Yes, I slipped on the
floor. Thank you so much for helping” I replied.

I stepped over to the
mirror to fix my hair and smooth my clothes, as I pondered how I
was going to get out of the restaurant without facing another
encounter with the Baroness.

I took a deep breath and
peaked out the door to discern my route of escape, when I noticed
that Patrick was sitting alone.

“
There you are,” Patrick
said relieved as I approached the table. ”Are you okay? You were
gone for a long time,” he implored his eyes searching mine for the
truth.

I was still rather shaken
up by the bizarre restroom incident, but by no means would I let
Patrick see me defeated and weak. Instead I put on a happy smile
and said, “I’m sorry Patrick. It must have been the drinks that got
to my stomach. Where is the Baroness?”

“
She had to leave. You do
look a little unsettled,” he said with concern in his voice. “Come,
I’ll take you home,” and with a firm hand on the small of my back,
he guided me towards the exit. I felt a wave of relief wash over my
body, triggered by his gentle touch, as we made our way to the
parking attendant. The night air had turned cold and a shiver
passed over my body. Patrick instinctively pulled me into his
warmth, and put a strong muscular arm around my shoulder. I
succumbed to his comfort and support as we waited for the valet to
bring around his car, my hands clenched in knotted fingers from the
anxiety of the secret I was now hiding.

When the car finally
arrived, my nerves had settled and I was feeling more like myself
again. The valet regally held the passenger door open and I entered
with the air of a princess.

“
A Jaguar. Very nice
Patrick,” I said as I slid comfortably into the sleek black leather
seats.

“
Oh, you know cars. That’s
good. I love British cars. My next car will be an Aston Martin.
I've had my eye on one for a while now.”

“
Are you sure you can live
up to driving James Bond’s car?” I fondly teased. In fact, I
thought to myself, he would probably look even more gorgeous in the
Aston Martin V-12 Virage, if that was even possible.

“
Let’s get the Baroness’
account first, and then I will take you for a test
drive.”

I could hear the excitement
in his voice, but the mere mention of the Baroness gave me sourness
in the pit of my stomach.

“
Do me a favor and let’s
not talk about the Baroness any more tonight, okay?” I
asked.

“
You got it, beautiful,“ he
obliged. “So, where may I have the pleasure of taking you tonight?”
he asked with an implied grin on his face. I looked over at his
handsome profile lit by the soft blue-green glow of the dashboard
lights. There was something sexy about the warm interior glow of
his sports coupe. Anticipation hung heavy in the air like anomalous
vapors on a lake. Sheepishly I peered over to take a longer
look and my heart nearly skipped a beat. I was enamored with his
compelling presence sitting there in the driver’s seat, poised like
a model with his hands on the steering wheel. He had the face of
Adonis and I was in his car about to have him drive me home. I
wanted him more than anything. I wanted to shamelessly throw myself
at him with unchecked passion but I decided I had better cool my
jets. After all, he was my boss and besides, there was the whole
Baroness incident weighing heavily on my mind.

I looked away briefly to
gather my composure and although it was rather dark in the car, I
thought I saw a twinkle in his eye as he maneuvered the car out
onto the main boulevard. His demeanor lifted my spirits and the
excitement of being alone with him, if only for a ride home, began
to rise up from deep within me.

“
You
may
drive
me to my place in upper East Side Manhattan, 88th and 2nd,” I
said nervously laughing to hide my glee. Patrick gave me one of his
huge warm smiles that can melt even the coldest iceberg, and it
made me realize that there was no other place I would rather be
right now than here, next to my heartthrob.

Traffic wasn’t bad for a
Wednesday night. We spent the drive chatting lightly about what
shows were currently playing on Broadway and which one was our
favorite. Before I knew it, we had arrived in front of my
apartment. I was feeling so comfortable in his company that I
balked at the idea of being all by myself in a quiet apartment.
Andrea, my roommate, was out of town this week and I had no desire
to be alone tonight. There was an available parking spot on the
street and Patrick piloted his sleek Jag into the space like Mario
Andretti.

“
Let me walk you to the
door”, he offered clearly noticing my hesitation to get out of the
car. He tilted his head down to get a better look at my face, as I
lingered in the luxury of my seat.

“
Chloe?”
his voice was inquisitive and concerned and I felt he could read me
like a book. I didn’t want to reveal any of the internal turmoil
that I was feeling from the restroom event with the Baroness. I was
trying to keep it together, desperately wanting Patrick to see me
as a strong confident woman, not an Insecure wilting flower. A wave
of emotions was building up inside of me and my greatest fear was,
that if unleashed, it would knock him over, wash him away and drown
our chance at a relationship.
Crap!
Now is not the time to be weak
and have an emotional melt down. A guy like Patrick doesn’t want a
drama queen.

“
No, it’s okay...” I tried
to interject but he was already out of the car and in one smooth
move my side door was opened, his hand gracefully extended,
inviting me to hold on while I stepped out of the car. He slipped
one arm around my waist smiling down at me with that delectable
smile of his, charm oozing from every pore of his well-built frame.
I wondered if my sigh was audible as I melted into his body, our
two forms, making one unified movement towards the entrance to the
apartment building. Maybe it was his presence in the immediate
aftermath of the harsh events of the evening, or maybe I was just
ready for a guy like Patrick in my life. It was a bewilderment to
me and I was completely mesmerized by all things Patrick. All I
knew was that I felt safe and protected with him and I didn’t want
to let that feeling go at the door.

We paused at the entryway
and he turned to face me with both arms wrapped loosely around my
waist. Our eyes locked on each other and I could smell his
intoxicating scent.

“
Chloe, I’m glad you came
by the restaurant tonight.” His voice softened.

“
I really wanted to see
you.... I mean, see you outside of the office. Watching you at
work, your beautiful smile, your luscious lips.... It’s driving me
crazy.” he revealed with a tortured voice.

His gaze was overwhelming
and I had to break the intensity for a moment. I tipped my head
down to stare at his chest and gently fondled the lapel of his suit
jacket between my thumb and forefinger. I was woozy with delight
and the excitement of his confession made me rock back on my
heels.

Proper decorum dictated
that he should let me go inside and the ladylike voice in my head
was saying, just let the night end here, but the pounding of my
heartbeat was drowning out that voice. Gripped with a mixture of
wanton desire for Patrick and sheer dread of being alone with my
thoughts for a sleepless night, I lingered longer at the door. His
steel-blue eyes were burning holes through me. I was helpless at
his command. With one arm he pulled me closer and the other hand
lifted my chin with his fingers. My head tilted back in a
subservient manner, my lips parted slightly and he gently placed
his lips on my mouth.

Slowly guiding his tongue
into my mouth he cupped my face with both hands now, passionately
and seductively drinking in my kisses, thirsting for more. I gave
in completely and threw my arms around his neck, pressing my
breasts against his chest and running one hand up the back of his
neck into his hair. His last kiss sucked on my lower lip as he
pulled back breathlessly.

“
Chloe, you drive me wild.
You’re so beautiful. I want you. Damn baby....” he trailed off as
if he wanted to say more. He took one step back and held me at
arm’s length and scrutinized my entire body then sucked in a breath
between his teeth.

“
I had better go before I
forget that I’m a gentleman...” he whimpered.

As he backed up, I refused
to let go and kept the connection with one hand. I desperately
wanted him to stay. He gave a little squeeze of my hand that sent
my adrenalin pumping. Human psychology is an interesting subject
and it is amazing how subtle communication can be. Subconsciously I
took his little squeeze as a signal.
Green
light means go.