Authors: Stella Rhys
I snuck out of the penthouse before dawn, still without my keys. Not the smartest move but I simply couldn’t be there any longer. Two nights at Abram’s place and I’d already gone through highs and lows so extreme that my mind was effectively fucked. I couldn’t understand how I was feeling, why I’d cried or what had actually happened last night. What I did know was that I mortified and I needed out.
So with no access to home, I reported to Alma’s. Reece agreed to let me work as long I covered up my stitches. “On the bright side, you’re still clearly a gorgeous girl.” He stroked my lower back, never failing to make a harmless compliment feel creepy. “I know it’s dead but I’m happy you chose to work today, Isla.”
Laurel simpered while leaning on the counter next to me. “Same. I had all the best tables during the rush. Must be the whole not-wanting-to-look-at-a-busted-up-face-while-eating thing. Insert joke about how your face wasn’t all that to begin with.”
“Creative.” I faced away from everyone as I married the ketchups. Both my tables had just closed out and I had nothing left to do. It was Memorial Day weekend and as quiet as it got in the city, so with true boredom, I focused on Alma’s condiments while tuning out Reece, Laurel and her two girlfriends, who claimed that they had
plans in the Hamptons but gave them up to be with her.
“Well then, you know what? We should all go out tonight. First round of shots on me,” Reece grinned wide as Laurel ran an ice cube down his arm.
“Ooh,
sweetie
. To a club?” she batted her lashes.
“Yeah. The city’s dead, we’d get in anywhere tonight. Go ahead – name all the hardest doors in Manhattan.”
Please, not this conversation
. I waited for it. Only a couple names were thrown around before Reece finally said the most obvious answer.
“How about the Monarch?”
Laurel’s friend burst into giggles. “We’re not allowed to talk about that place in front of Laurel. She dropped two hundred dollars on a dress to get in last year and got
re
-jec-ted.”
“Whore! Shut up.” Laurel flipped her laughing friend off. “And please, if I can’t get into the Monarch, none of you ugly bitches can. Especially not Franken-face here,” she nodded at me.
I arranged the bottles on the counter. I always thought I’d treasure the day that I could shoot down one of Laurel’s stupid remarks with cold, hard proof, but today, she didn’t strike me as remotely worth it. I had snapped a picture of Abram’s breathtaking view from the penthouse but I didn’t want to show it to anyone, least of all her. I didn’t want to have to answer questions about him. I was still trying to figure out one of my own.
“This is not what this is.
” His words played over and over in my head and no matter how I interpreted them, I cringed. They made me foolish. Presumptuous.
Laurel took my silence as anger. “Lighten up, girl, it was a
joke
. God, we need to get you laid.” She flashed a bright smile. “Know what? I’m friends with this
super
hot model guy. He’s out of your league but his creepy roommate would totally sleep with you.”
God.
“Laurel.” I finally faced her with exasperation. “There has to be a better way to stroke your own ego than – ”
“Hel
lo
,
welcome
to Alma’s!” Reece cut me off with a loud greeting to whoever just walked in. It was his code for “
everyone shut up and look like you’re doing things
,” and it usually worked, even on Laurel. Being an asshole to coworkers didn’t keep her from being professional to guests. But today she dropped her jaw and cursed straight in the face of one.
“Holy shit,
hello!
” she squealed, immediately clasping two hands to her mouth and giggling at herself. Heart already pounding, I spun around to see who could’ve elicited that reaction.
Of fucking course.
Something was wrong with me. I was far less shocked than I should’ve been to be watching Abram Lenox step foot into Alma’s Diner, wearing a heather grey Henley and dark jeans. I was floored, as always, but not so much shocked. Maybe I’d felt his presence a second before Laurel’s squeal. Or maybe I had a feeling, despite trying not to be presumptuous, that he would come looking for me. I didn’t know. I had no idea what it was. All I knew was that nothing I felt around this man was ever near the realm of normal.
Standing behind everyone, I glanced at Abram, knowing that behind his shades, he looked straight at me. But as he removed them, Laurel flounced to him, putting a hand on his arm. “Would you like a seat, sir?” she nodded at one of her tables.
“No, thanks. I’m only here to see Isla.”
Heat bloomed in my cheeks. The sound of my name on his lips tended to have that effect, even when I was vaguely sure that I hated him. I watched as every head in the house turned to me. Laurel’s eyes were wide as she pointed. “
That
Isla?”
Abram laughed. “She’s the only one I know.”
After several minutes of everyone’s continued shock and my continued silence, Abram wound up seated at one of my booths, already looking at me when I reached his tableside. I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth as I cocked an eyebrow at him, my throat far too tight to speak. Thankfully, he spoke first.
“I still have your keys.”
Laurel’s friends burst into whispers.
I still have your keys.
I’m sure they were assuming a hundred things that were completely wrong but I let them do it.
“I know.”
“How did you plan on going home today?”
“No idea. I spent my last three dollars on the train here.”
Abram kept his stare fixed on me. “How much do you earn here?”
“What?”
“On average, per day, what do you make. And while we’re at it, how much do you pay for rent?”
“Why do you need to know any of this?”
“I’m sure you could guess if you thought hard enough but I take it you’re not in the mood, so just answer my question.”
I bristled. “Answer mine.”
“Ask one.”
“What the hell was that last night?” Sugarcoating. Since all this drama, I’d apparently lost patience for the kind of thing.
“Are you asking why I stopped you?”
“What else would I be referring to?”
“I’m not sure this is the best place for me to explain.”
“Well, it’s the only place you’re gonna get me.”
Abram eyed me before taking a deep breath and gazing forward. “I singlehandedly turned your life upside down, Isla. I took you into my home for that reason. Not so you’d feel obligated to give me whatever I wanted from you as repayment. As hot as it is to picture you as my sex slave, the reality would be too fucked up for even a piece of shit like me to stomach.”
I stared. It made a little more sense now that I heard it from his lips. I wet mine as I replied quietly. “I didn’t feel obligated, Abram. Women are interested in sex too.”
“That much I know. But the other issue is that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the night I found you. And I’m sure you realize, considering the events that took place that I have a couple things to take care of right now. I need to be focused and I can’t stay that way when every few minutes, I think about your body and how tight you felt around my fingers when I made you come, so for that reason,” he lowered his voice, “I don’t think I want to know how good I would feel inside you. I’ve thought about you enough as it is.”
I had chewed my thumbnail down to nothing by the end of his explanation.
“Now that I’ve answered your question, I’d like you to answer mine.”
Cheeks still red, I obliged. “I’ve been making about a hundred-twenty a shift. I can break almost three in the winter. Rent’s thirteen hundred dollars,” I tried to rattle off the numbers without wincing but my finances were such a nightmare. My studio was part of a two-year lease I’d begun while still teaching, when living alone was good for work and over a grand a month didn’t hurt. But now it broke the bank right in half. I spent fifty percent of my monthly tips on rent and another quarter on bills and a meager grocery list. I’d only begun riding my dumb bike because MetroCards had gotten too pricey. And still, I was in debt.
“That’s bleak,” Abram remarked.
“I’m aware, thanks.”
“Well, aside from apologizing for last night I’m here to offer you a job that’ll make you no less than six hundred a night. Housing would be at the Monarch. Pay what you want.”
I stared. I could feel my coworkers doing the same. “What are you talking about, Abram?”
“Killing two birds with one stone. I figure this gig would help with your financial situation as well as Nate’s paranoia.”
“I don’t understand how it would fix the latter,” I said, but Abram had no chance to reply because suddenly, Laurel bounced over, hair fluffed up and shirt pulled down.
“I’m
so
sorry but did you say you worked at the
Monarch
?” she breathed at Abram. He looked at her.
“Yes. I own the place.”
Laurel’s mouth opened so wide I was sure she planned on eating him. “Um –
what?
That’s crazy! Wait, then I totally know who you are. I’ve read about you.
Oh my God
, I’ve read about you! You’re like,
famous
, what are you even
do
ing here?”
Abram nodded at me. “Well, she snuck out of my apartment this morning and now I’m trying to get her back. Any suggestions?” he smirked.
Laurel’s smile faded fast but she managed to muster up another one, though it was strained and looked half-crazy since she’d yet to blink in the past fifteen seconds. “Uh… no. Sorry,” was all she said before turning to me with a dozen different questions on the tip of her tongue, none of which ever came out. I was too amused not to say it.
“I’ve been inside the Monarch, by the way. It’s nice.”
Laurel glared. In an instant, she was red-faced and sputtering. “Well – yeah, ‘cause you’re… like, a
prostitute,
” she hissed in a stammer. Her mouth opened to spew more but she had nothing left in her arsenal so I just nodded and laughed.
That wound up my last afternoon at Alma’s. Laurel told Reece that a “whore” shouldn’t be working at his diner and he only comforted her, so I told them to just mail my last check to my apartment. Abram corrected me, instead giving Reece the address to the Monarch.
I started my first shift at the hotel the same night.
The famed club at the Monarch was named XIII. It topped every list of city hotspots and was notorious for turning down celebrities. Its door was comically hard to get into, protected by
another
Monarch club-slash-lounge of lesser status, that the public had to permeate before they could even think about getting into XIII.
I wasn’t working for XIII.
I was working for a club about a thousand times more exclusive.
It was nameless, at the top of the Monarch but apparently very much underground. Abram gave a brief explanation on the way to the hotel. “Think of it as an off-the-books casino,” he grinned at my absolute confusion. “We have everything they have – poker, betting, fights that people travel to come watch. We just play by fewer rules because we have no one to report to. And that’s a draw for a lot of guests.”
“So this is illegal,” I clarified.
“Technically, yes.”
“And my… partaking in this would also be considered against the law?”
Abram grinned at my phrasing. “Yes. Hopefully, being a part of what we do will ease Nate’s nerves.”
It made sense. For some reason, I wasn’t averse to any of this. I could feel a thrill building in me as the car arrived at the Monarch. “And what exactly will I be doing?”
“The same thing you were doing this morning. But in a much shorter dress.”
I flashed my brows at him. “Am I going to be a
cocktail
waitress? I can’t carry those trays.”
“You’ll learn.”
I laughed at his simple answer. I had no doubt that Abram was one of those annoying guys who could watch things once and then just
do
it. “Are you going to be there?”
“I used to oversee most nights but I haven’t had the time lately.”
Right
.
Because of all that important business to take care of.
Looking down at my hands, I swallowed. “Who was that man in the alley?” I dared to ask.
“That’s nothing you need to know about,” Abram said before firmly changing the subject. “Someone will be waiting for you at the hotel when you get in. He’ll walk you through everything.”
“You won’t be there?”
“Unfortunately not. I have a flight to catch in an hour.”
“Oh. Okay, so am I…” I hated that I needed to ask this. “Am I going to see you again?” Only then did I truly understand what he’d told me at Alma’s. Abram was attracted to me but he had every intention of nipping that attraction in the bud. The realization swept me with a sudden wave of hurt.
Damn it.
I hadn’t even realized how badly I wanted this man until I realized I’d never get to have him. I had breathed the same thick, lust as him last night, felt completely intoxicated by the fire he started in my bones and could only imagine what he’d finally feel like inside me. But that was all I could actually do anymore – imagine. “What is it that’s going on right now?” I blurted my question. It was stupid. I knew he had to be involved in something deep, something a million times bigger than what I was, but I was suddenly so desperate, so eager to know.
“I promise you’re better off not knowing.”
“But – ”
“Isla.” Abram faced me with severity. “What I did the night I met you – it was no accident. It was something I planned, to set off a very specific chain of events that I’ve been waiting a long time for. I’ll be gone for less than a week but when I come back, I don’t expect for us to see each other anymore. You’ll still be taken care of and I’m going to make sure that you’re always okay but I can’t afford to indulge myself anymore. This was hardly a fling and yet I can’t get my mind off of you. Whatever this attraction is, it has to stop. I can’t keep thinking of you as often as I do, or the way that I do.”
I lifted my eyes slowly to him. “How often do you think of me?”
“Too often.”
“And how do you think of me?”
“In ways that get me too hard to be productive.”
I let out a breath and pressed my knees together. “Can’t you just…”
“Jerk off? I do.”
A curious sound hummed from my lips. Abram lifted an eyebrow at me and despite trying not to, cracked a wry smile at my blatant expression. He knew what I was picturing. I couldn’t help it. I’d always imagined him to have some model on call for every spontaneous hard-on, but apparently, even Abram Lenox sometimes closed his eyes and got himself off.
I chewed the corner of my mouth, knowing that I shouldn’t do this. But I couldn’t stop myself. “What do you think of when you do it?” I asked.
Abram turned to me with surprise and then a bitter laugh, eyeing my body in my tunic and skirt. “You. In ways I’m not exactly proud of.” He gazed at me, his mouth curling as his eyes flicked away. “Don’t suck your lip like that.”
I stopped. I hadn’t realized I’d been doing it. But I was so incredibly turned on by the idea of Abram thinking of me when I wasn’t there, getting aroused and imagining exactly where and how he wanted my body. In his fantasies, he could do whatever he wanted to me. I rubbed my thighs against each other as I wondered what naughty images his thoughts conjured.
Groaning, he leaned his head back. “Don’t do this to me, Isla.”
“Do what?”
“Whatever it is you do that turns me into a fucking animal,” he said, glaring forward. But I knew he could see me from the corner of his eye because when I started squirming, he turned to look. “Isla.” He sounded angry but the second he caught my thighs pumping under my skirt, he slammed his fist to his seat and hissed, “Fuck it,” jerking me onto his lap and immediately moving my hips so that my pussy rubbed hard against his cock. “Take it off,” he demanded, burying himself into my breasts the second I whipped off my shirt and bra. His mouth was wide open as he breathed me in, swirling his tongue over my nipples and sucking them into stiff peaks. Thrusting his hand under my skirt, he pushed my panties aside, sliding two fingers inside me. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he murmured, giving several deep thrusts and then withdrawing to rub the length of my pussy, over and over and over till a sudden orgasm rocked my entire lower half. Growling with satisfaction, Abram fisted my hair, urging me on with a thousand filthy words in my ear as I came.
“Oh God.” Blissfully shaken, I collapsed onto his chest but for only so long. I needed to finally return the pleasure and clearly, he needed the same because as I lay my body across the backseat, he hastily freed his erection. It stood straight up, a stiff rod resting against his abs. My head in his lap, I immediately wrapped my mouth around it, sucking, pushing his thickness between my lips, my hand stroking in unison. I moaned against his hard flesh when I felt his hand lift my skirt and squeeze my ass.
“Christ, Isla, are you kidding me,” Abram groaned, his fingers thrust in my hair. “Fuck, yes, keep doing that…
fuck
, that feels so fucking good…”
I didn’t come up for air. I loved every bit of his pleasure. His hard body twitched. His thighs flexed underneath me. The handful of my hair that he fisted grew tighter as his cock grew harder in my mouth. His every breath got angrier as I brought him toward a roaring finish.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Isla.” His abs clenched tight as he warned me but I didn’t care, only sinking my mouth as far down on him as I could. “Ah, Christ… Isla I’m gonna – ” I stole his words with a last tight, wet pull. “
Isla
– ”
His body caged around me as he came hard, bursts of hot pleasure pumping into my mouth. I savored every one, drawing my tongue over the last drop beading on his pulsing helmet. He let out a last, tight groan as I licked him clean like a lollipop. When I sat up again, Abram could only stare at me in silent awe, his blue eyes flickering as he caught his breath. “Fuck,” he growled, pulling me by the back of my head to his lips. But an inch away, he didn’t kiss me. He looked tortured as he only stared at my mouth before lifting his eyes to mine. “Crazy,” he finally murmured, breathing hard. “Fucking crazy whatever the fuck it is you do to me.”
We parted on those words.
Hot and guilty, I walked into the Monarch alone. I knew I’d done something selfish just now but it had felt so damned good. For us both. I didn’t know when or how I’d have Abram next so for now, I savored the pleasure of his taste. It still lingered hot on my lips.