Weak for Him (10 page)

"That was awesome! I've only seen
things like that on television."

"Isn't it? I used to come here all
the time when I was bored and contemplated life and love. If you
play Chopin
Nocturne Opus 9
as soon as it starts, it syncs
nicely."

"Really? Classical
music?"

"Yep. I love a good Chopin, Bach,
or Beethoven. Occasionally Mozart. The music clears my mind
whenever I'm working."

"What do you do for a
living?"

"I'm a painter."

He looked at me, and I looked
back. Luke was pure man and pure sexiness. Weeks ago, I would've
imagined this night to be full of sex, and sleaze, and everything
nasty under the moon.

"Want to swing?"

I laughed, totally not what I
expected.

"Um… sure."

I kicked off my heels, and Luke
threw off his suit jacket and loosened his tie.

"Last one there is a rotten
egg?"

I ran to the playground barefoot.
Forget the etiquette. Forget the training. I hadn't been on a swing
set since I was a little girl, and though the gesture seemed
childlike, it felt nice to let go and push my feet toward the sky.
The swings screeched and urged us to stop, but we
didn't.

"You aren't like most of Felton's
girls, you know."

"Really?"

"Not
at all
."

"Luke, what's your story? Why did
you choose to use The Elite? You seem like the kind of guy who
doesn't need a call service."

He lifted an eyebrow, contemplated
answering me, and then continued. I wasn't supposed to ask
questions like that, but I felt comfortable with him.

"Too many women have used me. They
try to be genuine, but aren't. With The Elite, I'm able to find
someone who I am compatible with on many levels with no hidden
agendas. No lies. It makes it easy. We are all on the same page.
Now it's your turn. Why The Elite?

We continued to swing on the hard
plastic until we wore ourselves out. Gripping the cold chains, I
thought about my life, goals, ambitions, and dreams.

"It was an accident, sorta.
Something that just happened. I moved to Vegas with aspirations of
becoming an accountant at Simon and Fitch."

"Really? What
happened?"

"I didn't get hired. Actually, I
was turned away at my interview for being one minute
late."

"Who would do such a thing? Don't
stop dreaming. You've got greatness inside of you. I can
tell."

"No, you can't." I dug my bare
feet into the sand.

"I don't have to know someone to
be able to judge their character. This might sound crazy, but… I
feel like I've known you forever, like a long lost friend that I
was reunited with again."

"Yeah, I get that sometimes. I
think it's the southern hospitality thing that's engrained in
me."

"I've got another confession to
make."

Luke completely stopped swinging
and glanced over at me.

"I'd like to go on another date
with you. I promise no beaches."

"I'd like that."

"Great. I'll arrange it with
Felton when we return. Which"—he glanced at his watch—"we should
probably head back."

After dusting off my feet and
placing on my heels, Luke's suit jacket found its way around my
shoulders.

The ride back to the office
happened in slow motion. Luke's laughter was contagious, deep and
hearty. The genuine smile he gave me, and the way his crystal blue
eyes lit up as he looked at me, made me feel pretty.

He led me to Mr. Felton's office,
and our images reflected on the glass. With tousled hair and clammy
faces, we looked as if we experienced a night of wild
sex.

Mr. Felton sat at his desk, fully
focused on paperwork. When we entered, he didn't acknowledge us
whatsoever.

"Here she is. Ten o'
clock."

No response. He continued to write
vigorously as if he would tear straight through the
paper.

Luke turned my body away from my
cheery boss and gave me the sweetest kiss on the cheek, then
whispered in my ear, "Until we meet again."

He left me in Mr. Felton's office,
a place I hadn't visited in weeks. I glanced at the floor, and then
focused my attention out the window and watched the city lights. I
stood firmly with messy hair and Luke's jacket on my
shoulders.

I waited for Mr. Bossman to give
the command to sit. Because as an Elite, we must be instructed
before we can act, speak when spoken to. Follow Rules.

Minutes passed before he finished
writing. Once he did, Mr. Felton shut the black notebook, put down
the pen, and looked at me.

"Have a good time, did you?" The
edge in his voice returned.

"I did, thank you."

"I assume you are still a virgin
after your rendezvous with Luketon?"

"Your assumption would be
correct."

"Are you sure? You look a little
disheveled and flustered."

"If he did stick it in, I didn't
feel it. So I guess you'll have to trust me, won't you?"

With the word
trust
, he
gave a devilish grin.

"Trust. I've learned to trust
those who are trustworthy. Is that you, Ms. Downs? Are you
trustworthy?"

"Yes."

"You would do anything that I told
you to and tell me the truth if I asked?"

"Yes."

"There is no reason to lie to me
if I ask you a question, is there?"

"No."

"So, Ms. Downs, did you have a
good time tonight?"

"Yes. I did,
sir
."

He stalked toward me with as much
fluidity as a cat.

"What did you call me?"

He gave a chuckle as if he were
experiencing an inside joke with himself.

"It sounds quite nice coming from
your lips. Continue to call me that instead of Mr. Felton until I
say. Do you understand?"

"Yes… sir." I
hesitated.

I did it to be sarcastic, and now,
he wanted it as if it turned him on in some fucked up
way.

"Did he kiss you?"

"No." He cleared his throat.
"Sir," I added quickly.

"Did he touch you in inappropriate
places?"

"No,
sir
."

"Did you want him to?"

I hesitated again. I hadn't
thought of Luke touching me anywhere throughout the whole night.
The date wasn't full of sexual tension and getting naked. It was
innocent and fun.

"Answer me." Harshness blanketed
his tone, and I flinched.

"No, sir. It wasn't like
that."

Mr. Felton walked toward the
window and peered out at the busy streets and groups of people
pounding the pavement.

"You may sit,
Jennifer."

I sat in the chair across from his
desk, and waited for him to address me, but he seemed lost in the
city.

"Luketon will ask for another
date. And you may go if you would like. But you can refuse the
offer if you'd rather not."

"I would like another date…
sir."

"Great," he said flatly. "You can
leave now."

I pushed the chair under the desk
and laid the coat jacket on the back. Mr. Felton would see Luke
before I did.

As I turned the doorknob to leave,
he grabbed my hand. I turned, but refused to look into his eyes.
His jaw clenched, and he lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him.
No words exchanged between us, just a weird electricity as if our
bodies were speaking in a language that neither one of us
understood. He released my wrist, and flicked his head insinuating
I should leave.

Once inside the elevator, I
recouped my thoughts before pressing
G
.

What the hell just
happened?

I honestly didn't know.

Eleven

C
harlie dropped me off at
home, where only a few exotic cars lined the driveway. I really
needed to purchase a new car. It was on my list of things to do.
Although the Honda's tire was fixed, I didn't feel like driving it.
I had outgrown my college vehicle.

I thanked Charlie and headed
toward the door. I punched the code into the keypad, but the door
didn't open. Thinking I must have pushed an incorrect combination,
I tried again. I had no key.

"Fuck," I whispered.

"Is that an offer?" Mr. Felton
asked.

He must have driven around the
backside of the house because I didn't hear him or V arrive but I
wasn't paying attention.

"Umm."

He reached over my shoulder and
punched in the code, but it didn't work for him either. Ha, I
thought.

Without saying a word, we walked
around the house, and he used his key for the back door. Inside was
completely quiet. Everyone must have been out for the night or in
bed. Only the virgin had a ten o'clock curfew.

Not paying attention, Mr. Felton
walked into a lamp that sat in the corner of the sunroom. It
shattered into a million pieces.

"Damn it," he said,
whispering.

I barely made out his form by the
faint moonlight that shone through the windows. He bent down and
picked up all the little pieces of glass.

"Why in the world would anyone put
that there?" I asked.

I wasn't familiar with every
aspect in the house yet and had no clue where the switch would be.
My luck, there would be a remote, just like every other damned
light here. I pulled my phone from my clutch to give him some
light. He laughed.

"Really?"

"What?"

"Your wallpaper, it's
silly."

"What's silly about kittens?
They're cute and make me smile."

"Right."

After unplugging the lamp from the
wall, I bent down and helped.

"Careful. Picking up broken pieces
can be dangerous," he said.

I whispered "Yes, sir" with sweet
seduction in my voice. He stopped, but I continued picking up
shards of glass with great care, but not carefully
enough.

Pain pierced my finger and warm
liquid dripped.
Blood.
The cut, although deep enough to hurt
and bleed, was not deep enough to need stitches. Mr. Felton grabbed
my hand and shined the kitty wallpaper on my finger. He immediately
took his tie from around his neck and placed it on the
wound.

"Come on. Before you bleed out on
the wood floor," he said, leading me to the bathroom around the
corner. Cold water washed the pain away.

Mr. Felton opened the cabinet
under the sink and pulled out a small first aid kit. With great
care, he doctored the nick. Neosporin and a Band-Aid and the small
cut was sealed to heal.

"And I'm the softie?" I
sarcastically asked.

He slightly puckered his lips and
gave a laugh.

"What?" I asked.

"I want you to tell me about your
sexual fantasies."

My mouth dropped open. I closed it
and swallowed.

"Okay," I said, trying not to
stutter.

My nerves tugged and pulled inside
of my stomach. I had never spoken about my fantasies openly before.
Not even to Lori or Abbie, and they were my best friends. Mr.
Felton leaned against the sink, waiting.

"I don't know."

"You're bound to have some sort of
fantasy. If you could have anything in the world, sexually, what
would it be?"

He lifted an eyebrow at me. I
cleared my throat.

"I might like being
tied."

"Kinky little virgin." Mr. Felton
chuckled.

"Maybe spanked, if it wasn't too
hard. I don't want to bleed or anything. Oh, I always imagined
having sex in water would be interesting."

"I want to know your dark
fantasies."

He straightened, and moved closer
to me.

"The ones that you keep secret
from everyone. The ones you've never spoken out loud."

My throat went dry. Thoughts of
being spanked, bound, and blindfolded floated in my mind. I would
be willing to try anything, be willing to explore the dark side at
least once.

"I want to be taken," I
whispered.

"Taken. Mmm. Tell me
how."

A piece of hair fell in front of
my face, and Mr. Felton tucked it behind my ear. His touch was so
gentle and slight as if I was a glass doll and would break. I
blushed, and my face went warm. The conversation wouldn't end until
I told him what I wanted. I had learned that in his
office.

"Trust, Jennifer. Rule number
one."

"Trust isn't the issue. I just
don't know what I want, and it's kind of embarrassing," I said. We
spoke low enough that our words could have been lost in a cool
autumn breeze.