Timeless (12 page)

My entire body flinches at his words.

Drying off after my nightly bubble bath, I lather up my freshly shaved, now extremely smooth skin in my favorite Kanebo Sensai body cream. My skin feels like pure silk and smells like a whiff of heaven after I apply it from head to toe. There truly is no other lotion or cream on the market that is even close to this stuff. I’m not sure what it is about it, but something in the plants and extracts that they use, make it worth every dollar I spend on it - all four hundred of them.

I slide into my black, silk robe, not even bothering with the tie that dangles around my waist, and make my way to the kitchen. I grab the open bottle of 2011 Chevalier-Montrachet out of the wine chiller and pour myself a healthy glass. After the first sip of the expressive chardonnay, my taste buds come to life and I moan aloud in delight. The hint of spicy floral mixed with a zest of lemon is an impeccable combination, and much like my lotion, is irreplaceable in my nightly ritual.

Leisurely making my way back to my bedroom with my vino, I saunter into my closet to decide what I’m going to wear tonight. Typically, I wear all black on Monday’s, but after the day I’ve had, I’m feeling a little like breaking the rules tonight - even if they are my own rules. Shaking my head and laughing softly at myself, I grab my new sapphire-blue fitted dress off of it’s hanger with a pair of silver stilettos and throw them on my oversized bed.

I head back into the bathroom and climb up on the marble countertop, yelping as my bare ass hits the cold surface. I have to sit up here to put my make up on; it’s like it doesn’t apply correctly if I don’t. It’s similar to when I have to fix my hair standing in front of the left sink instead of the right. There’s a certain way and order that everything needs to be done in, otherwise my inner balance gets thrown off and I spin a little out of control, and nobody wants that to happen.

Smiling at myself in the mirror, I begin to apply the dark charcoal eyeliner that frames my crystal blue eyes, then I follow it up with several thick coats of mascara. I’m blessed that I have naturally long lashes and don’t have to go through the trouble of falsies; unfortunately, they are just very pale, like everything else on me. After a little blush and all over shimmery powder, I overlay my naturally ruby lips with a thin coat of cherry lip gloss and blow myself a kiss in the mirror. Seriously, who could resist this face?

I hop off of the counter and move over to the hair station, bringing my now half-finished glass of wine with me. I release my long flaxen blonde hair from the clip that’s been holding it on top of my head, allowing it to cascade down my back. Thirty minutes with the straightener and I’m good to go. I stare at my reflection one last time before turning to get dressed. Perfect ~ just enough make up to accent my eyes and lips and my hair looks better than Duchess Catherine’s. I have mastered the concept of sexy without slutty. People have always told me that I have the face of a porcelain doll, and truly, I must agree. Unfortunately for them, I share the same emotional capacity as one of those dolls in my bitter, frozen heart.

I take off the robe, hang it in its designated spot on the back of the bathroom door, and then prance naked over to my wardrobe to choose my lingerie for the evening. This is probably my favorite part of the entire getting ready process. A woman’s undergarments truly say so much about her mood and intentions. For example, a woman in a white cotton bra and panties probably isn’t thinking about getting fucked, and even if she is, she doesn’t care much about impressing her partner. Whereas a lady in sheer black lace is at least hoping that someone will get a peek at her without clothes on. The fabric and color of my intimate apparel most definitely affects my attitude and disposition; plus, it’s the basis on which an entire outfit is built around.

Seeing that I’m completely going against my better judgment and wearing blue and silver tonight, I opt for my grey metallic demi cup bra with the matching thong. Sitting on my bed, I carefully slide my iridescent thigh highs up my perfectly toned legs and hook them to the grey garters. Stockings and garters are a must for me anytime I leave home after sunset. This is one rule that
can’t
be broken. When I slide the sleek, delicate material onto my body and attach it to the clasps that perfectly frame my tight ass and sweet pussy, a switch goes off in my head - a switch that locks away any sliver of goodness left in my soul and turns me into a fierce predator with only one goal in mind ~ to dominate and destroy.

I glance at the clock and see that it’s a few minutes past ten, which means that I need to get a move on. I quickly slip into my dress and shoes, then take one last look at myself in the full length mirror. I should feel bad for the men who cross my path tonight. Too bad I don’t. I swallow down the last of my drink as I walk towards the front of the apartment. Stopping to rinse out my glass and placing it in the dishwasher, I then grab my clutch off the table and head out the front door.

Emerging from the elevator, I give Andres, the nightly security guard, a quick smile and tip of my head, before escaping into the cool March night. Leo is waiting for me with the SUV, just as he is every night, and I hurry into the backseat of the black Range Rover. He closes the door behind me and hurries around to slide in the driver’s seat.

“Where are we headed tonight, Miss Kat?” he asks as we pull away from my building.

“The World Bar Trump Towers. I’m feeling feisty tonight and need some international blood.” I reply in a sharp tone. He glances up into the rear view mirror and catches my eye. His expression speaks volumes, but he’s smart enough to not say anything.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Do you notice anything different about me tonight, Leo?”

“You’re not wearing black, Miss Kat,” he says without even having to think.

“You’re always so observant. I really don’t pay you enough.”

“You pay me more than enough, but thank you for the compliment.”

He smiles at me in the mirror, and I allow myself to return the friendly gesture. Being in his presence calms me like no other. He is the only male in my life that I never intentionally want to hurt, but I know that I still do. Daily. Our relationship is unconventional and most definitely unhealthy. He is the closest thing I know to love, yet it’s still so fucked up that I’m not even sure that’s the correct terminology for it. I know he loves me, and I care about him as much as I can, but that’s not saying much.

Before I can spend any more time thinking about Leo, we pull up to the building and he hops out of the car to come open my door. I take his offered hand and slide down off of the black leather seat. As my feet hit the ground, I give him a quick peck on the cheek. “This shouldn’t take long,” I tell him, and he simply nods knowingly. I stride confidently though the door, and once inside, I scan the room swiftly before making my way to the lit up marble bar. Every person present, both male and female, watches as I make my way across the room. I feel their eyes on me, and instead of making me uncomfortable as it would many people, I feed off the attention.

The bar is quite crowded for a Monday, which pleases me immensely - more of a menu to choose from. I select the open chair in between two men who both appear to be there alone. The one on the left is a little old for my liking, but the one on the right caught my eye immediately. The bartender, dressed in his white tux, scurries to greet me.

“What can I get for you to drink this evening, ma’am?”

“Grey Goose Martini. Dry, dirty, and with a twist, please.” He nods his head with a smile and steps away to make my drink.

“There’s nothing sexier than a beautiful woman who knows how to order a drink,” the older gentleman says to me. I refrain from rolling my eyes and swallow back the words that I want to say. It’s time to play the game.

I look over at Grandpa and grin. “How sweet of you to call me beautiful; thank you so much.” One good look at his face and I know that even if his age didn’t rule him out, his uni-brow would’ve. Thankfully, the bartender arrives with my drink at the perfect time to end this conversation that’s barely started. I thank him and take a sip of the cocktail. Perfection.

“That has to be the poorest attempt at a chat up I’ve ever heard,” a deep voice with a thick British accent murmurs in my right ear.

Smirking, I turn
slightly to get a better look at the other guy sitting next to me. I do a quick assessment ~ early thirties, attractive face, full head of medium brown hair, nice teeth, not overweight. Yep, I think I found a winner… or a loser, depending on whose point of view you’re considering.

“A chat up, eh?” I ask playfully. I lean in close to his ear and whisper, “Something tells me that a ‘chat up’ isn’t what he is really looking for.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, then takes a long drink of the amber liquid in his rocks glass. “Something tells me that you’re a smart girl.”

I smile my most innocent smile and lock my eyes on his. “I’m fucking brilliant,” I say with a serious face. He stares at me for a second, almost as if he can’t believe I just dropped the F-bomb, and then bursts out laughing.

“Well bloody hell, aren’t you the best thing I’ve met since I’ve been here?” I beam back at him. He rearranges his body position slightly so that his knee is gently resting against mine before continuing. “I’m Benjamin, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Benjamin. I’m Chloe,” I lie.

And… game over. I win. The victories aren’t always this easy, I actually prefer when they put up a little more of a struggle, but tonight I’ll take it. Over the next forty minutes, I entertain him by pretending I care about his important marketing job and his growing up in London while sipping on my drink. I laugh when I’m supposed to, touch his arm and leg here and there, and pretend that I don’t notice him staring at my boobs. Finally, he asks if I’m interested in sharing a night cap at his place. After explaining that I’m not the kind of girl that goes to a stranger’s place, I suggest a hotel room. As his eyes light up and he adjusts his crotch, thinking that he’s sealed the deal, the disgust rolls through my body. They are all the same.

Benjamin pays for both of our drinks and we walk out of the bar, hand in hand. Leo is waiting and ushers us into the vehicle. The surprise is evident on Benjamin’s face, but he refrains from saying anything. By the look of his clothing and the Hublot timepiece adorning his left wrist, he’s no stranger to luxury, but I’m guessing that he wasn’t expecting this from me. Once we are both securely in the back seat and on our way to our destination, I twist in my seat and place my hand high up on his thigh.

“Benjamin, would you be interested in playing a little game?” I ask, my voice dripping with sugary sweetness. He first looks down at my hand and then slowly brings his gaze up to my face.

“Absolutely, my pretty little Chloe,” he replies with a shit-eating grin. His words make me want to vomit, but instead, I scoot my hand up a bit on his leg and bite my lip suggestively. He leans into me and lightly kisses my exposed neck. “Whatever you want to do, I’m good with,” he murmurs against my sensitive skin.

I reach underneath my seat and pull out a piece of heavy black fabric. Crawling onto his lap and straddling his thighs, I gently brush my lips across his before tying the blindfold around his eyes. I feel him tense a little bit as I take away his sight and the excitement begins to bloom inside of me. Next, I retrieve the metal restraints and cuff his wrists together behind his back.

“You’re a kinky little thing, aren’t you?” I can hear a trace of fear in his voice but the bulge in his pants that continues to grow tells me that he’s eager for what he thinks is about to happen.

“You have no idea, Benjamin,” I respond in a husky voice. Seeing him so vulnerable, without the ability to see or move his hands, has my body humming. “You won’t forget this night for quite some time.” I look over my shoulder to get Leo’s attention and twirl my finger in the air, indicating that I just want him to drive around. This isn’t going to take long; I’m losing interest in this guy before the fun has even started. Briefly, I question what is wrong with me, hoping I’m not growing soft, but then I look down at my dress and I know… I should’ve worn black. It’s my own fault for breaking the rules.

Turning my attention back to him, I lazily begin to unbutton his dress shirt to expose his chest to me, followed by unfastening his belt and dress pants. I skillfully pull his pants and boxers down over his hips until they are around his ankles. His medium-sized cock is standing at complete attention and I can see his pulse racing in his neck. I climb back on his lap, pulling my dress up around my waist and begin to grind my panty-covered pussy on his bare cock. The neckline of the dress pulls down easily along with my bra, so I pop my boobs out and stick them up to his mouth. He needs no words of encouragement; he quickly draws one of my nipples into his mouth and begins sucking forcefully. I increase the speed and pressure of my movements while he devours my breasts; my pussy’s growing more and more wet as I anticipate what’s about to happen.