Gramercy Nights (The Argo Press Trilogy Book 1) (7 page)

I had a professor in college, this really fabulous woman, and one day we met for coffee in the Village to discuss my post-college plans, and she looked at me and said, if you want to be a translator, take advantage of every opportunity you have, sleep on couches, live off ramen, as long as it gives you time, because your work has to be the most important thing in your life. Otherwise you’ll never have a chance. At the time, I’d thought fuck yeah, I totally have what it takes, that focus, that drive, but now, well, it’s easy to see how the job of getting by from one day to the next, of paying back loans and paying rent, can crush your dreams without you even noticing.

If I’d really been focused, I’d have finished the book a year ago, but there was always something. Another shift to cover, another night out with Connor and Margot, and while I know my professor was advocating living on your parents’ couch for as long as they’ll let you, I don’t have that luxury to fall back on. I wonder what advice she’d give me now and I can’t help thinking she’d tell me to jump. When a beautiful man you’re dying to sleep with wants to pay you to do something you’d happily do for free, what’s the big deal?

I check my phone repeatedly, expecting to see something from Sebastian, but there’s nothing. He’s giving me space to think about what he’s offered.

And every time I see there isn’t a message from him, I feel a stab of disappointment. Because the more time that passes, the more it all feels like a dream.

By Friday, I’m so on edge, I want to scream. It’s been days since I’ve heard from Sebastian. Days. I hate that I want him to call me. Want him to ask me again. But he doesn’t. He lets me be. And I hate it.

At night, when I close my eyes, I imagine what it would be like to be with him. What he’d do. I’m turned on and frustrated and it’s killing me. I want him. More than I’ve ever wanted any man, even Jake, and there was a time when I thought I loved Jake.

No, I have never lusted after a man the way I lust after Sebastian. I know his silence is calculated, that he knows exactly what he’s doing to me, that it’s all part of his plan. To make me realize how much I want him. And I hate him for it. Because it works. The number of times I start to text him only to stop myself before hitting send is embarrassing. I can’t do this. I can’t say yes.

Or can I?

Just when I think I’ll never hear from him, he texts me.
Say yes. Put me out of my misery. Let me lick your perfect little cunt until you’ve forgotten your name.

My body trembles with nervous desire as I stare at my phone. I want to say yes. I want to throw caution to the wind and just let Sebastian have his way. But something holds me back. Some rational part of my brain that keeps telling me I can’t take money from this man.

I shove my phone back into my purse, expecting that to be the end of it. But it’s not. It’s just the beginning. Sebastian is no longer content to wait for my response. I’m making coffee when my phone vibrates later.
Say yes, you won’t regret it.
I ignore it and take my coffee to the living room where I’m working.
I want to hear you begging me to fuck you.

I have to turn my phone on silent because the messages don’t stop. He’s texting me all the things he wants to do to me. Every time my phone vibrates, my body flushes with excitement. It’s like a sick, Pavlovian response. I can just imagine the self-satisfied look on his face as he sits back, imagining my response.

By Saturday afternoon when I call Tom to let him know I’m feeling better, I can’t wait to get back to work. Anything will be better than sitting around the apartment, jumping whenever the phone rings.

It doesn’t hit me until I leave work and find Sebastian outside, waiting for me, that I’ve already made up my mind.

“I see you got over your nasty bout of food poisoning,” he jokes before leaning down to kiss my cheek, letting his warm lips linger against my skin, sending a shiver from my spine all the way to my toes.

How can this man, with just a platonic kiss, set my whole body on fire? Just the sight of him makes my insides clench with need. He threads one muscular arm through mine. “Walk with me? I wanted to see you.” His voice drips with desire, accentuating the ache I feel between my legs.

My whole body is screaming YES, YES, YES! as I move alongside him, our steps echoing hollowly on the deserted street. It’s September and I can feel that first early bite of fall in the air, and I don’t know if it’s the chilly air or Sebastian’s touch that sends another shiver through my body, making goose bumps break out across my skin and Sebastian comes to quick stop.

“You’re cold,” he says and it isn’t a question. His arm moves from mine and he slips easily from his blazer before helping me into it, then once again he takes my arm and we resume our leisurely walk towards the looming black gate encircling Gramercy Park.

We don’t speak. Instead, we walk in silence, both lost in thought, both thinking of the elephant in the room. I can feel the tension in his body, in his taut muscles and rigid posture, and I know he’s suffering just as much as I am. Come on, Danielle, all you have to do is say yes. Still, my lips stay firmly pressed together. I want this so bad and yet I can’t bring myself to admit it.

Finally, it’s Sebastian who breaks the silence as we come to a stop in the shadows of the iron fence separating us from Gramercy Park. “I’m not usually a patient man, Danielle.” His voice is a low rumble reverberating through my expectant body. I realize I’m holding my breath. “But something tells me you’re worth the wait.”

“What makes you so certain I’ll say yes?” My voice is a hoarse whisper. A taxi drives slowly past, illuminating us in the glare of its headlights and I feel exposed and naked standing before him.

He chuckles, pausing to look deep into my eyes. “It’s only a matter of time. I see how you react to me, how much your body needs me. What’s the point of denying it? You can just say yes and put a stop to all this.” He sounds so certain, so sure of himself, and yet, he isn’t boasting. It’s like he’s stating a simple fact. My mouth is dry. It’s like those green eyes of his can see all the way into my core, penetrating me. I can’t imagine keeping a secret from this man. He’d know. The thought is unsettling, but I find myself nodding, not knowing what I’m agreeing to or with, but I can’t stop myself and he runs a finger down my cheek, tracing my jaw lightly.

“I know,” he says, his voice a gentle whisper. “But knowing isn’t enough. I need to hear those words from that beautiful little mouth of yours. I need to hear you say, Sebastian, I’m yours.”

He drops his hand from my face and my eyes close involuntarily at the loss. I can’t keep looking into those intense, probing green eyes. I’m afraid of what I might say, what I might agree to without realizing, but even with my eyes squeezed shut, I can feel the weight of his stare on my skin.             

“Look at me.” His voice is a stern command and my eyes open. He places a gentle kiss on my cheek then steps away. “Gary is here.”

When I turn, reluctantly peeling my eyes from the beautiful man in front of me, a beautiful man who can’t stop telling me how much he wants me, I notice the black town car pulled to the curb. Seeing it makes me realize I don’t want to leave. I don’t want him to stop touching me.

With one hand on the small of my back, Sebastian steers me to the car and helps me into the warm leather interior. He leans in, his large frame filling the doorway until I can feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek, his eyes burning into me.

“I can’t wait to undress you, to hear you beg me to pleasure you.”

A moan leaves my mouth before I can stop it.

With a smug smile, he steps back, slamming the door shut and my heart is racing, as much from the close proximity of his body as his devilish words. No one has ever spoken to me that way before, and I’m surprised to find I like it. No, scratch that. Like is way too mild a word for what I feel. I want to tell Gary to stop the car, that I’ve made a mistake, but we’re pulling away from the curb, gliding downtown towards the Williamsburg Bridge, leaving Sebastian standing on the sidewalk, watching us go.

I scramble for my phone, heart racing, a flush spreading across my skin, and type frantically. This could be the biggest mistake of my life, but I know I’ll regret it until the day I die if I don’t at least give it a shot. I only type one word. Yes.

When my phone vibrates, I jump.

What exactly are you saying yes to?

I imagine the hint of a smile crossing his face, a devious twinkle in his eyes. This is exactly what he wanted and there was never a moment he doubted it would happen. 

Sebastian, I’m yours. Yes. I agree.

I squeeze my eyes shut but I can feel that flutter of giddy excitement fill me. I can’t believe I’m doing this, I can’t believe I’m agreeing. I want him to tell me to have the driver turn around, but he doesn’t. He makes me wait, just like I made him wait, and I know he’s enjoying it, enjoying every second of my mounting frustration, like a cat toying with a mouse.

Finally, as we’re turning onto Delancey and approaching the Williamsburg Bridge, my phone vibrates.

That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Sleep well, Danielle. I look forward to seeing more of you soon.

I bury my head in my hands. What the hell I’ve just gotten myself into?

But in this moment, I don’t care. As the car speeds across the deserted bridge towards Brooklyn, the only thing that matters is that soon, I will have Sebastian.

Chapter Nine

Somehow texting Sebastian that I’m his while sitting in the back of his town car doesn’t prepare me for the reality of his assistant stopping by the Gramercy with a heavy manila envelope filled with paperwork. But that’s exactly what happens the following day.

Suddenly, holding that envelope in my hand, I realize this is real. It isn’t some game he’s playing. I didn’t just agree to sleep with him.

When it’s time for my break, I hug the manila envelope to my chest and grab an iced coffee before heading outside. Sitting on the stoop to one of the expensive brownstones overlooking Gramercy Park, I tear open the envelope with trembling fingers.

Clipped to the front of two slightly imposing stacks of official looking documents is a note from Sebastian.

Danielle,

Here are the contracts I mentioned. Look them over carefully, then please sign them and have them notarized. If you have any questions, call me.

I can’t tell you how excited this makes me. I told you before, I’m not a patient man. Don’t make me wait.

Sebastian

The first is the non-disclosure agreement. It boils down to the fact that I will be held accountable to the sum of ten million dollars should I discuss, at any point, the nature of our relationship. I don’t know if it’s the sum of money or the fact that in signing this, I give up my right to talk about just about anything regarding Sebastian, but I can’t help but feel nervous. The problem is that I want this enough to make a very risky decision.

Given that I don’t actually have a lawyer, I text Margot, asking how binding NDAs actually are. I’m not a complete idiot. I know how foolish it would be to even consider signing something like this without consulting a lawyer.

Or, in my case, a law student.

Margot must not be in class, because she responds right away.
As binding as any other contract. Why?

Fuck. That was sort of what I was worried about. I was hoping that this was more of a formality than anything else. Granted, the dubious legality of what Sebastian is paying me for makes me wonder just how willing he’d be to actually sue me and I’m willing to bet the threat of legal action more than does the trick.

I don’t want to lie to Margot but I know I can’t tell her the truth so I just thank her and tell her we should get drinks soon.

It’s the second document that piques my curiosity. At his loft, Sebastian talked only in vague terms about what he expected from me and I was a little too pissed off to press for details.

I chew nervously on my straw.

I can always change my mind. If I tell Sebastian no, I’m positive that would be the end of it. No more dirty texts. No more waiting outside my work. No more Sebastian, period. He made himself perfectly clear. This is the only way.

I don’t know what I’m expecting. A list of sexual activities required? Explicit details about how and when he would want me? Instead, I almost burst out laughing in relief. Sebastian wants, in writing, that we are both disease free, drug free, consenting adults. That’s pretty much it. There’s a clause about taking birth control, probably to limit any further damage that I’d come after him for more money, and if I hadn’t been on the pill since high school, I might have balked at the idea of this man insisting on what I put in my body. There will be no other sexual partners, which is a relief, unless mutually decided upon. The wording makes it pretty clear that threesomes aren’t off the table and while I’ve never had a threesome, the idea of having one with Sebastian both terrifies and excites me. I shove the thought aside. There will be more than enough time to think about such things later. If there is a later. If this doesn’t end before it actually begins.

The document highlights the fact that I can say no at any time, which I guess is a relief to see in writing. Then after three months, our relationship ends, and aside from the money provided to me during said relationship, in signing this document, I forfeit the right to make further financial claims.