ROMANCE: The Bad Boy Meeting (36 page)

I packed up my things as quickly as possible and escaped out into the hallway, listening to the rhythmic sounds of my heels stomping against the polished marble floors. I had scarcely reached the end of the fairly deserted hall when the not so dreaded meeting with my parents occurred. My mother stepped out of a different conference room, her sharp cheekbones made even sharper by her precise contouring job and by the scowl on her face, no doubt put there by whatever altercation she had just experienced with the rest of the editors. She walked with her sharp, blue eyes trained straight ahead, but when she noticed me with my long reddish hair and my stiletto heels, she stopped in her tracks, nearly dropping her large portfolio onto the ground in front of her.

My heart skipped a beat, but I stood my ground anyway.

As if embarrassed by her own actions, she cleared her throat, bent down to pick up the portfolio and then turned to face me, her jaw dropping as she got a good look at my dress and realized that I had changed it. She set her jaw. “How did the meeting go?” it slithered out of her mouth like the darkest sneer anyone could imagine.

I cleared my throat. “Fine.” I replied, trying to keep my voice from shaking even though I was secretly enjoying the excitement. “They had some issues with the color on the dress of the-“ I started, but my words got lodged in my throat when she wrapped her thin fingers around the top of my arm and dragged me into the nearest, now empty, conference room, slamming the door behind her and drawing the blinds.

I gulped.

“Do you have any idea how much you have now embarrassed me in my own workplace?” she demanded.

I shook my head, because I had no idea how whatever I was wearing could possibly embarrass her.

She scoffed at this, completely unentertained by my smart response. “Look, I thought you were going to wear what you had on this morning? Why would you change?”

I shrugged. “Because I had no intention of wearing what you picked out for me.” I replied.

She nodded slowly. “You realize no one will take you seriously right?” she retorted in the most awfully insulting voice.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh really, because I just completed a meeting during which every single one of them took me seriously.” I replied.

She crossed her arms.

“In fact,” I continued, leaning off of the wall, “The entire line got passed.”

Before I could even smile in self-satisfaction, I felt something hard slap me in the face. My neck snapped to the left and my hand flew to my cheek almost instinctively. I could not believe she had just slapped me in a public place like this. I almost cried out of sheer shock. “Mother, what the hell?” I demanded.

She barely allowed me time to recover, grasping my chin with her hand and forcing me to look up at her. “You do not talk to me in this way.” She hissed.

I winced at the sensation of her bony fingers digging into my skin, but clamped my jaw shut because I wanted it to stop. My heart pounded against my chest with a kind of frenzy that could only be alleviated if I punched her right back. But I couldn’t, because she was my mother. I had to stay here and be quiet, because God forbid she fire her own daughter for insubordination. The precious high I had just been sitting on from the successful meeting was all but gone. She had covered me in her disdain such that I was drowning in it; such that I could not possibly find my way out of it.

Tears welled up in my eyes once more, but they were not of shock.

Mother’s eyes went wide as she stared into mine. She bit her plump, lipstick-covered bottom lip, then let go of my chin, releasing a harsh, deep sigh. “I don’t know how to make you understand.” She whispered only because she did not want her voice to carry outside of this small room into the hallway where anyone could hear her. She shook her head, pacing back and forth, her stilettos making rhythmic tapping sounds into the ground. “Your father and I are trying to raise a truly magnificent woman. What kind of dragon will you be if you cannot even present your human form in a respectable manner? What kind of control or restraint can we expect, or even hope to see from you if you’re baring you bony back for everyone to see?” she demanded, turning her frustrated face on to me.

I released a huff of breath, because I had no words to spare for her. I was going to be just fine as a dragon, even more fine than the apologetic, weak minded, servant of a daughter they would have me be. I didn’t want to listen to their advice because how could they know what was best for me if they didn’t even really know me? I flexed my jaw, wincing at the dull ache radiating through the bones that made up my face, a small part of me in the back of my mind, wondering if she had messed up my makeup, or, even worse, left a scar.

Just as I was making my way to the door, she opened her mouth as if to say something else.

I stopped with my hand on the doorknob and turned to look at her, patiently waiting for whatever else would come out of her mouth, because for one true moment, I actually believed she might apologize to me. Or, at the very least, tell me what she was actually thinking. But instead, she just cleared her throat and said, “Don’t forget, you have the Selection after lunch at two today.” Her voice sounded raw, as if she had been screaming instead of just murmuring to me.

My heart plummeted into my stomach. “Right.” I muttered. The Selection: something every dragon my age waited their entire lives for; something I would rather never have to do.

“Also, there is a crease in your make up where I-…” Mother stopped herself, trailing off. It was so much less than glamorous to admit to slapping anyone, much less your own child.

So I understood what she meant and why she found it difficult to utter it out loud. Without further ado, I yanked the door open and stepped back into the hall, determined to forget that conversation ever happened. There was nothing wrong with my back-showing dress. In fact, I would wear to church…. If I ever went.

Even though I tried hard to forget the taste of that awful reminder of just how unfree I was, I could still hear my mother’s words in the back of my mind as I pressed the button for the elevator and not so patiently waited for it to arrive. As much as I hated to admit it, the constant conversation about my dress was starting to get to me. For one short second, I regretted my bold decision to defy all decorum and demand to be judged by the words that came out of my mouth and not by the clothes on my back. I smoothed over my skirt once, twice… my heart fluttering in my chest and my skin crawling in that way it only does when you feel profoundly out of place.

I smoothed over my skirt once, twice…

There was the ringing of a bell. I looked up to see which of the three elevators had arrived, then I laid eyes on him. My hands froze just above my thighs as I took in his tall, built frame, draped smartly in a gray Armani suit. Even under the sleeves of the jacket, I could see the Pandora cufflinks holding his Italian cuffs together.

Just when I thought my heart was beating so fast that it would simply leap out of my chest, he looked up at me, his striking hazel eyes seeking me out, scanning the black silhouette of my dress, my frame contrasting with the gold-plated walls behind me. His perfectly shaped, peach-colored lips titled up into a half smile, the warmth of it almost contagious. A shock shot up through my spine as I raised my eyebrow at him, my body asking him to move his. As soon as he stepped aside, I realized that I had overstepped my hesitation. I had to move.

Luckily for me, I could still walk through my weak knees. As soon as the doors shut, I realized that I was in an enclosed place, for all intents and purposes, alone with this gorgeous stranger. “Interesting dress.” He murmured.

I had to stop myself from audibly reacting to the sound of his perfect voice, but instead of gasping in ecstasy, I went to my go-to expression: an eyebrow raised and a corner of my lip lifted. With this smirk working for me, I responded with, “The dress? This dress?” I sighed. “Oh the dress. The dress. The dress. It’s the talk of the town, this dress.”

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound of it bouncing off the walls. “Well aren’t you just adorable.” He replied.

I scoffed. “Oh, I’m more than adorable,” I replied, letting myself lean into him.

I saw him meet my eyes with his. Then I watched as his gaze shifted from my forehead, to my eyes, to my lips… to my cleavage…. “Are you?”

I wanted to giggle like a giddy child, but I knew that would completely blow my “sexy,” image. I figured it would be okay if I could just make it through the rest of the elevator ride without giving away my ‘true’ feelings. “Yes. Yes I am actually. Adorable would have smiled coyly at you, gone home and hoped to one day see you again. Adorable would scribble notes about you in her diary and obsess over you in meetings. Adorable wouldn’t dare say any of this out loud. But I am not adorable.” I replied as I rummaged through my small clutch purse for my collection of business cards. “Which is why I am going to do this…” I replied as I handed him one of the cards.

When he reached to grab it, his head cocked curiously to the side, our fingers touched. My skin nearly lit on fire. I was so flushed that I could have sworn my entire face had become uniform red. I felt a warmth in between my legs completely undeniable and nearly unignorable.

But then the bell rung and the elevator doors whooshed open. As I watched him step out of the elevators and stride across the lobby, I couldn’t help but to think that that ride had ended all too soon. Before I managed to drive myself into a proper frenzy, I stepped out of the elevator myself and across the lobby. My stomach growled just as I passed the secretary’s desk; a firm indication that I should not have skipped breakfast… or dinner the night before.

I needed food.

However, as soon as I reached the door, I could see at least three camera men outside, poised and ready to walk right into their trap. Although I had managed to convince myself that I did look fabulous, I was not actually in the mood to hear a million questions and catcalls thrown in my direction as I made my way to my favorite, quiet café, so I decided that I wasn’t too hungry, at least not yet, and changed course for the first floor bathroom.

My stilettos slammed against the marble with my every step and yet, all I could think about was what it might feel like if I could have Elevator-man’s penis slamming into me over and over and over again. By the time I got to the lady’s room, I was throbbing so profusely that I found it difficult to walk. I sucked in a deep breath, my inflated chest causing my hardened nipples to rub up against the cloth of my dress and making them even harder.

I was hyperventilating as I pulled open the main door and shoved myself into the closest stall. I put the toilet seat top down and sat on top of it, the cool porcelain slipping through my dress. I could feel each bead of sweat sprouting onto forehead and the sensation of it leaking down my face only made me feel even more aroused. I sighed to myself as I slipped my finger in between my legs, not even bothering to slip my panties all the way off. This was the third time just this week that I had felt the urge. In fact, it was getting steadily harder and harder to control it.

I tickled my clitoris with my pointer finger, shoving my free hand in my mouth so that the sounds I made wouldn’t attract any unwanted attention. As I played with myself, I just kept imagining Elevator man pressed up against me. I could almost feel his lips kissing my neck and chest, but I wanted more of him. I penetrated myself with my fingers, tugging them in and out, in and out, and over and over again, wishing it was him all the while.

With a sigh, I climaxed.

I cleared my throat and spent almost half a roll of toilet paper cleaning myself up, from the tip of my forehead right down to that space in between my legs. With that accomplished, I stepped out in front of the sink, smoothed my hair over, washed my hands and braved the three cameras, succeeding in grabbing a sandwich just in time to not have to be late for the Selection.

The meeting, which only I, my mother, my father and a trusted advisor were allowed to attend, was held in the basement of the office building, in a large room sealed like a safe. I took the elevator down to lower level two, then had to take the stairs down two more flights before I was finally looking at what seemed like a seamless stainless, steal wall. I pressed my palm against the surface and closed my eyes, doing my best to focus all of my energy into the palm of my hand. My lungs expanded almost automatically as I sucked in a large huff of air, the heat from my body radiating through my hand until the human skin had almost been plastered against the steel wall. Just when I thought I would jump out of my skin, the wall gave way. With a heavy, deep wine, it dragged open, revealing a large room that looked something like a cross between a theater and a conference room. The large chairs had small, oak tables attached to them with pink drinks in cocktail glasses sitting on top of them.

At the sound of my arrival, my mother and father stood from their chairs to appraise me. My skin crawled as their matching eyes caught everything about me, from my matted hair to my smudging eyeliner. “Hello.” I muttered.

Mother gave me a curt nod, then sat right back down. “You’re late.” She snapped.

I flinched at this, but stepped inside and made my way to the chair next to my father. “How are you Alistair?” I asked as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He smelt of cigars and aged cologne.

“How are you, my dear daughter?” he asked.

I let go of him, patiently standing there while he held me at arm’s length and examined me. “I’m all right, I suppose.”

He pursed his lips. “I see you wore the dress.” He added.

And that’s where he lost me. “All right. We really should get on with this.” I replied in a hasty voice.

John, the advisor, a butler whose family had apparently been working for my family for multiple generations, stood up, grabbing the clicker from his little side table and turning the large flat screen on in front of us. “Esme, as you know, you have reached the age where you are expected to have you first mating.” He started.

“Oh joy.” I muttered. In the back of my head, I knew that he was just talking about sex, but I couldn’t decide if that made it better or worse.

John ignored me, and so did my parents. “Anyways. Because of your breed, you will need to mate with two, able-body males of dragon blood in order to leave your ascend from your human form. After careful consideration, we have compiled for you a list of men that we feel might suit you.”

I found it ridiculous that a couple of adults that hardly knew me as a person, let alone as a sexual being, were scouring the male population essentially to find people to have sex with me. Nevertheless, I sat through the presentation and watched the faces with my eyes peeled, trying hard not to imagine Elevator man as one of the men too often. Soon enough, the faces became blurs, and after a little bit longer, there were no blurs, only conversations about the blurs. I wanted to cut in and just suggest the Elevator man.

“Why don’t we just stop right now?” I interjected. I was so hot, I could barely see straight. My masturbation session had hardly done any good. I was aroused all over again and sitting in this room felt like being trapped in a cage three sizes too small.

My mother scoffed, then stood up and set her hands on her hips. “If you’re not going to cooperate, we can just pick them for you and I can assure you, you will not like it.” She replied.

I rolled my eyes and stood up, ignoring the fact that John was staring nervously at the both of us, wondering when we were both going to phase and rip each other to shreds right in front of him. “You have picked the best looking men of dragon blood in Paris. I am sure that there is no such thing as an undesirable mate. But,” I continued, making my way to the screen and snatching the clicker from John, “I will humor you two and find myself two mates that will suit me.” With that, I grabbed the clicker and worked through the presentation. This time, I actually peered at every picture, trying to look though the images to see what the men might look like in front naked, what they could look like in real life. It was difficult and a little bit frustrating, but eventually, I found a face I couldn’t ignore.

“Oh.” I breathed. It was the eyes. I stepped back away from the screen so that I could better see them. His face was three feet long, the tan in his skin made him glow almost from the outside in. I could imagine just how taught it might have been. His muscles were like little rolling hills, their every groves dipping and rolling. It felt like he was reaching out through the screen to me.

John stepped up behind me. “That’s Caesar.” He explained.

“Ceaser.” I whispered. I then turned to face both of my parents. “He is the one.”

Mother, who always displayed an expression of utter frustration whenever she regarded me, nodded at this. I knew, from the light in her eyes that she was pleased that I was finally taking part in my own destiny. I decided not to let it go to my head and just returned to the selection process.

Much to my satisfaction, I felt the very same thing for the next man that popped up onto the screen. He had large hazel eyes; the kind I just knew belonged to a man that would never hurt me. However his build and the set of his jaw told me that he was more than capable of handling my fire. “This one.”

“Oh?” Father interjected. “Are you sure?”

I turned to face him. “Yes. What’s wrong with him?” I asked.

Father shook his head. “It’s nothing, just-“

Mother interrupted him, “Are you sure you’re not just doing thing to be done with it quickly?” she demanded. Her voice was cutting and profoundly annoying.

I rolled my eyes, handing John the clicker. “What does it matter to you, mother? I will still phase whether you think I made a true selection or not.” After that, I really did consider sitting down and discussing the procedure even more, but something about that theater just made me much too hot to function. I figured it might have had something to do with the fact that so much sex talk was being thrown around, or that I was still insanely aroused. So, needless to say, I walked out of the room and masturbated yet again before my final meeting of the day.