Divas (32 page)

The next thing she knew, she heard a car door open and Niels was ducking down again. She was hauled around, swung through the air, and dumped onto a wide leather seat, which let out a soft
whoosh of air as she landed on it. Niels dropped into the seat beside her and slammed the door.

Lola scrabbled back, getting as far away from him as possible. It was a large limousine, but not vulgarly so: Niels’s taste was clearly for quality over showiness. The interior was
gleaming, polished wood, and the facing seats were of a rich dark-grey leather, soft as butter. A smoked-glass panel separated them from the driver, and the windows were tinted too: it was as
private in here as it was possible to be.

She was sealed off in a small enclosed space with Niels van der Veer, so close that she could smell not only his aftershave but the scent of him, and his physical proximity was making her heart
beat so fast that she was surprised he didn’t hear it and comment on it.

‘You can’t just
drive off
with me!’ she said furiously. ‘My friends are still in there!’

Niels laughed dryly.

‘You mean those girls I saw you with at the hospital? I saw what state they’re in – the redhead nearly fell over my table tonight. Believe me, Princess, they’ll all be
too drunk to even notice that you’re gone.’

The limo was executing a tight three-point turn. Looking as best she could through the tinted windows, Lola saw that they were in a narrow alley at the back of the theatre. The limo crawled up
it until she could see the main entrance and the queue of people lined up behind the velvet rope to get in. There were paparazzi outside, jostling each other as they shoved as close to the doors as
they could get, clearly aware that a big drama was going on inside. The bouncers were yelling, trying to push them back, bright flashes from the cameras illuminating the scene in strobe vision.

‘They’ll be so worried!’ Lola said, still thinking of the girls. She knew Niels was right about Georgia: but what about the rest of them? They’d still be there, having
seen her hauled off stage, not knowing where she’d disappeared to, and they certainly wouldn’t be allowed backstage to look for her. They’d be going out of their minds with
worry.

Impulsively, she tugged at the door handle as they passed the front of the theatre. The limo was still in the alley, still going so slowly that she was sure she could jump out safely.
She’d wait outside for the girls, across the street, somewhere the paps wouldn’t spot her—

‘What the
hell
do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?’

Niels grabbed her by the waist and pulled her away from the door so roughly that Lola flew back and landed ungraciously almost on top of him. She screamed, and she screamed even louder when he
flipped her over so that she was face down, and, unbelievably, his open hand came down hard on her upraised bottom.

‘Someone should have given you a damn good spanking when you were young enough for it to make a difference!’ he said furiously. ‘Are you
mad?
Trying to jump out of a
moving car?’

He spanked her again and again, his left hand pressing hard between her shoulderblades, holding her down, as his right hand descended remorselessly, relentlessly, on her raised buttocks. Lola
squirmed frantically, trying to get away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of thinking that she was giving in to him; she managed to pull her hands out from where they had been trapped
under her body, and flailed, trying to hit him. He caught them in his and clamped them together, forcing them down into the small of her back, making it much harder to resist him. And then he
spanked her again, even harder, a stinging series of open-palmed slaps that, even through the fabric of her jeans, made her squeal with pain.

And then, wriggling helplessly on his lap, she felt how hard he was.

The length of his erection was rising up along his left thigh, a hard ridge beneath her lower stomach, so prominent that she couldn’t help moaning as she felt its outline. As his hand came
down again on her bottom, she rubbed herself against him, and she felt him swell in response, pressing up towards her through his trousers. She was so focused on his cock beneath her that she
didn’t realise immediately that Niels had stopped spanking her: it was only seconds later, with shock, that she felt his hand between her legs, parting them roughly, reaching under her, his
palm coming up to rub against her exactly where she wanted it.

How he knew what to do so precisely, so perfectly, was something she didn’t want to think about: how many women he been with, who had taught him so well how to touch her, even through her
jeans, in just the right place. Her eyes closed, her eyeballs rolling back in her head with pleasure, and she drove her hips down onto his palm, moaning in excitement and anticipation.
Niels’s hand was up to her belly-button now, popping the button of her jeans open, forcing the zip down, his thumb finding her and drawing small clever circles on the silk of her knickers,
the heel of his palm driving hard against her pubic bone, and before she could even draw breath she was coming so hard against him that, if he hadn’t still been holding her down, her wrists
still trapped behind her, she would have arched right off him as the spasms hit her.

He didn’t even let her recover before he was working on her again, and this time it was almost instantaneous, as if once he’d lit the fire it had spread so far and so fast that just
the lightest touch would send her up in flames once more. All her sensation was on what he was doing between her legs, his thumb sliding past the silk of her knickers now, sliding into her, finding
her damp and more than ready for him, drawing circles inside her till she thought she would explode . . . and then she did, screaming against the wool of his trouser leg, words that she
didn’t even know she knew, helpless to do anything but come as long and as hard as he made her.

Niels drew his thumb back, just barely out of her, and flicked it once, twice, directly on her most sensitive spot, working the seam of her knickers against her skin. Her whole body convulsed
against him, her hips pounding into him as she wailed in such pleasure she couldn’t even remember her own name.

He let her go, and Lola actually slipped to the floor of the limo, unable to catch herself; her legs felt boneless, her mouth open, panting for breath. She looked up, dazed, her vision blurred,
to see Niels above her, frantically working his belt buckle loose, his big hands, which had been so clever as they gave her one orgasm after another, fumbling now. He cursed it furiously in what
she assumed was his native Danish, and the sight of him, so big and capable and strong, struggling with his own trouser belt, overwhelmed with passion for
her
, Lola Fitzgerald, was so
exciting that she felt it like a rush to the head. Better than any drug she’d ever taken was this feeling of power: the power to make Niels van der Veer, international tycoon and by far the
bossiest, most domineering man she had ever met, so overcome with lust for her that he couldn’t get his own clothes to do what he wanted.

She knelt up and knocked his hands away, unbuckling his belt and pulling it open with slim, deft fingers. And then she had his trousers unbuttoned, unzipped, and she was reaching into his
boxers, running her hand along his cock, pulling it out, and ducking her mouth over its head.

Above her, she heard Niels start to say something in protest, his hands under her arms, trying to pull her up. But she didn’t want to come up. She wanted to stay right there. She held onto
him and started licking up and down his cock, her knees bouncing as the limo pounded over New York’s notoriously badly paved streets. Niels groaned, long and deep, a sound coming from the
back of his throat, and his hands fell away as his cock drove itself up eagerly between her lips.

Lola hadn’t planned this, hadn’t meant to take him into her mouth. But when she saw his cock springing free, so big and juicy, the only thought in her head was how very badly she
wanted to suck on it. Which was extraordinary, as she had never in her life wanted to put a penis anywhere near her mouth. Various boyfriends had asked, hopefully, if she would suck them off, but
she had generally limited herself to dabbing a few kisses on the head of their cock and then maybe giving them a hand job, if she felt very well-intentioned and affectionate.

She hadn’t dreamed of doing anything like this. It was too animalistic. There would be mess, and they would be offended when she spat it out. She simply hadn’t wanted to, and, to be
completely honest, she’d looked down on girls who did.

Well, she had fallen a long way since then, far and fast, all the way to her knees in a luxury limousine, wedged between Niels van der Veer’s strong thighs, one hand braced on the
rock-hard muscle of his quad to keep her balanced, the other wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, as she curved her lips over her teeth and sucked and licked up and down his straining thick
length as if she could never, ever, get enough of giving head. Niels’s groans were rising, and every appreciative sound he made was a huge relief, as she was worried she might not be doing it
right. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d had any experience with this.

But his hips were lifting, pumping his cock against the roof of her mouth, his hands were rising to twine through her hair, and she thought, as she licked the swollen head of his cock as if it
were the most delicious lollipop she’d ever tasted, that she couldn’t be doing it
that
wrong, because if she were, he’d scarcely be moaning:

‘Oh yes, Lola, yes, like that, just like that –
God Jesus fucking God
—’

His hands were so tight in her hair now that she couldn’t move her head. He was holding it where he wanted her, using her just as he needed to. The thought flooded her with happiness:
Niels had made her come, played her like an instrument, and now what she was doing to him was working, because he was bucking now beneath her, his thighs thrusting up, the sheer size of his quad
muscles amazing her as her hand slipped along his leg, and with one huge gasp he yelled: ‘Oh
God yes! Fuck!
’ and his cock started to pump inside her mouth.

She had never felt anything like this before. One moment she had thought she would choke on the size of him, and now he was pumping like a geyser. It was unbelievable, transcendent. Hot liquid
flooded her mouth, foaming down her throat as she swallowed. It tasted of almonds and milk and lemon. She gulped for breath, pulling back a fraction so she could swallow it all, keeping
Niels’s cock still in her mouth, her lips wrapped round it, holding him, not wanting to let him go.

The limo swerved round something, and bounced over a pothole. Lola tipped back, and, to her great regret, Niels’s cock slid out of her mouth. She sat back on the floor of the limo, licking
her lips, feeling ridiculously, unbelievably, satisfied. Why had she ever thought she wouldn’t like this? Why had she ever thought it might be demeaning? She’d had all the power there:
she’d been the one to reduce big, strong Niels to – she almost giggled as she looked over at him, slumped in the corner of the limo – a drained, exhausted, shadow of himself. Talk
about taming the beast. She suddenly understood why men were so nervous about sex. It made women feel stronger and men feel – well, drained. She had his essence now, swallowed down.
He’d lost his strength. She had taken it from him.

The limo made a left turn and tilted downwards suddenly, sliding Lola across the floor towards Niels’s seat. He reached down and hauled her up, one big hand in her armpit, lifting her and
dropping her next to him on the leather upholstery before she’d even got her feet under her.

‘Mr van der Veer?’ said the chauffeur over the intercom as the limo slid to a halt. ‘We’re in the parking garage by the elevator bank. Shall I open the door?’

‘Give us a minute, ’ Niels said, shifting to tuck himself back into his trousers and do them up. He nodded a command at Lola, who stared at him blankly before blushing furiously and
reaching down to do up the zipper of her own jeans.

‘I—’ Niels started. He cleared his throat, and began again: ‘You—’

He ducked his head into his hands. Lola stared at him in amazement: it was inconceivable to have big, powerful Niels van der Veer too embarrassed to meet her gaze.

‘Look, this isn’t a good situation, ’ he mumbled into his palms. ‘You and Jean-Marc – you’re drinking, obviously, and probably taking drugs too. Your friends
were high as kites this evening. You shouldn’t be around Jean-Marc. I know this isn’t exactly’ – he rubbed his face furiously – ‘I mean, after what we just did,
it seems very hypocritical of me – but your staying with him is just not a good situation. He shouldn’t be drinking, and I know he is. He nearly died just a couple of weeks ago, for
God’s sake!’

Niels dropped his hands to look at Lola.

‘The bottom line is, you’re not a good influence on Jean-Marc, no matter what he says. I want you out of there. I’ll pay you – however much you want – I know
Jean-Marc’s looking after you financially, and I’ll match that – but you need to pack your things and leave.’

‘How dare you!’ Lola exclaimed furiously. ‘If you think Jean-Marc would survive for a
day
without me staying there, you’re mad. He can barely be alone at the
moment, he’s so vulnerable. David can’t be around the whole time, and Jean-Marc gets so upset when David leaves to go to work that he crawls in with me and sleeps in my bed, just so he
isn’t by himself! And yes, we drink, but it’s only champagne, and just a few glasses, and we’re trying to get him to stop that too.’

She was frowning so hard her forehead hurt, her fists clenched with anger.

‘You aren’t around!’ she added. ‘You aren’t there when he’s curled up on the sofa crying because he misses David! You aren’t trying to sort him out a
sponsor and make sure he goes to Narcotics Anonymous meetings every day! You make me move out and Jean-Marc will be back on drugs in a week! He needs someone with him all the time, don’t you
get it? You haven’t talked to him properly, spent any time with him – all you do is lecture him instead of working out how he’s doing and what he really needs, you big arrogant
bossy
bastard!
’