Marissa & Mr. White: (Sexy Contemporary Romance) (6 page)

I pull into the parking lot. I can’t believe I’m even here. I
cut off the car. It’s seven-thirty. I glance to the front entrance. There’s a
different doorman this time. This one is a little shorter and even more bulky,
if that’s possible. There are about ten cars in the parking lot. I hope there
are more than ten people in here though. I’m already nervous I don’t want to
stand out in the crowd too much. I take out my cell phone and dial Bianca’s
number for the third time. Still going straight to voicemail. Dang it. What is
this girl doing? She must have her phone off. Oh well. Looks like I’m
definitely doing this on my own. I can’t believe I’m doing this by myself. I
don’t even go out to eat at restaurants by myself. Come to think of it, I
haven’t even gone to see a movie by myself. Yet here I am sitting in my car,
solo, in front of Club Masquerade.

I take a deep breath. It’s now or never. I look in my rearview
mirror and fluff out my fringe bangs. This time I decided to wear this wig in a
bun off my neck. It was entirely too hot the last time. I make sure the wig is
secure on my head before I place the purple masquerade mask on my face. If the
guy in white is here then he’ll definitely recognize me by my mask. He probably
won’t be here. It’s a Tuesday night. I’m sure he doesn’t come here every night.
Or maybe he does. I need for him to be here tonight. I’m not sure what I plan
to do if I see him though. I just need to see him. For the first time in my
life I’m being “sexually spontaneous” and I would hate for it to be wasted. I
don’t know if I would ever get up the nerve again to come to the club alone if
this is a major failure.

Seven-forty.

So far only two more cars have arrived. It’s still early.
Okay. Let’s get this over with. If I don’t see him by eight o’clock then I’m
leaving. I drop my cell phone into my purse, take out my wallet and attach it
to my wrist with the detachable band. I then lock my purse up inside my glove
compartment. Seven forty-five. Okay, Rissa, you can do this. My heart races as
I take wobbly steps toward the front entrance. I’m the only one outside at this
point. Besides the doorman of course, who only greets me with a nod then
extends his hand waiting for my I.D. I hold up my I.D. still in the plastic
case on the inside of my small wallet. He looks at the picture I.D. then at me.
With my mask and wig on, how can he really tell I’m the person in the photo? I
guess it’s just formality. He opens the door for me without saying a word.

I walk straight over to the check-in desk and get my sticker.
I don’t have to sign a form this time. I exhale deeply then walk through the
heavy black curtains. Is it me or is everyone staring at me? My mom always said
that if you ever get lost never look as though you’re lost. So I raise my head
up high and take confident strides to the bar as if I’ve done this a million
times. I slide onto the barstool. It’s the same bartender from Friday night. He
looks at me with recognition in his eyes. “Water? Or can I get you something a
little stronger?” he asks.

I smile. “You remember me?”

“It’s a part of my job to remember what my guests likes.” He
winks.

“A glass of water is fine. Thank you.”

“Coming right up.”

I glance around the room. Everyone seems to be in his or her
own little world. The bartender returns with my water. “Is it always
this
crowded on a Tuesday?” I ask, my words dripping with sarcasm.

The bartender laughs. “The night is young babe. Give it
another hour or two and you can barely move in this place. Believe it or not,
Tuesday is one of our busiest nights.”

“Really? A Tuesday?”

He nods. “There are more people upstairs on the second floor.
That scene may be more appealing to you then down here. There’s a bar up there
as well, in case you want more water.” He grins.

If I didn’t know any better I’d think he’s making fun of me.
“I guess you don’t get many patrons asking for water, huh?”

“Not often. Drinking and letting go of all your inhibitions
normally go hand in hand.”

“Right.” I sip my water although I’m not thirsty. I need to
busy myself. I survey the room, every few seconds, in search of the man in
white. It’s eight o’clock. That was my cut off time. I turn my gaze toward the
staircase. My lip twitches.

“You’re not obligated to do anything you don’t want to do,”
the bartender says as if noticing my apprehension. “You can just watch if
that’s what you’re into.”

I look at him. Flashbacks of that lady with the two men rush
into my mind. “I can just watch?”

“Yep. Go ahead.” He points his head in the direction of the
stairs. “I promise they won’t bite unless that’s what you’re into.” A wicked
grin spreads across his face.

I’m not even sure what I’m into. Until last Friday I never knew
that I was
into
watching strangers. To my surprise, the thought of doing
that again excites me. I finish my water then rise from the stool. I take one
last glance at the bartender. He stares at me without saying a word. A part of
me wants him to stop me, to keep me at this bar, drinking water, and chattin’
it up with him. The other part of me wants to know what’s up those stairs.

I stand at the bottom of the staircase. Okay. This is the
point of no return. I slowly ascend the short flight of stairs. The first room
I come to is the dungeon that Bianca had mentioned last week. I poke my head
inside. It’s empty. I imagined that it would be scarier looking than it
actually is. There’s a table covered with condoms, paper towels, disinfectant
wipes, and lubrication. In one corner of the room is a black leather swing of
some sort. It looks interesting. On the back wall are two sets of chains
hanging down with metal cuffs on the end. There’s also a table near the chains
with different size paddles and whips. Bianca’s words play back in my mind,
if
you’re into being spanked, whipped and tied up then that’s where you go
. I
have a very low threshold for pain. I doubt I’ll ever be into getting spanked
or whipped.

I hear laughter so I walk down the hall to investigate where
it’s coming from. There’s a vast room to my left with large windows on both
sides of the doorway. I suppose the large windows are for those that like to
watch without getting too up close and personal. I stand in front of the
window. There are people sprawled across most of the beds in the room. Some just
talking and drinking while others are having sex, in one way or another.

There’s an interracial couple on the bed on the opposite side
of the window that I’m standing in front of. They are completely naked except
for their masquerade masks. He’s on top of her, kissing her breasts. Sucking
her nipples. She arches her body and entangles her hands in his hair. I feel
like a peeping tom watching them in their most intimate moments, but I guess
that’s what this whole experience is all about. Being watched.

Just then a tall body stands beside me. I look up. It’s
him
.
It’s him. The man in white. He’s here. Like right now. Right here. Standing
right next to me. I quickly turn my gaze back to the couple. What do I do? Maybe
I should say hi. He probably doesn’t even remember me. Maybe I should say, hey,
remember me? No, that’s lame. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything. I try to steal
another glance but he’s looking directly at me. I’m like a deer caught in
headlights now. His arm moves around my body pulling me into him. His finger
lifts my chin and his mouth crushes into mine passionately. I try hard not to
think about the fact that I’m kissing a total stranger. His tongue slides into
my mouth and I moan. I hold onto his muscular arms to steady myself. He grabs
me by the back of my neck and pulls away from my mouth.

He pushes my back against the glass. The intensity in his eyes
excites me. His mouth roams over my body with a fierceness that I’ve never felt
before. He leaves a trail of wet and rough kisses over my neck and the tops of
my breasts. He pulls my top down and takes my nipple between his teeth. My back
arches and my hand grabs his hair. Mmm. He kisses between my breast then does
the same thing with my other nipple. My body tingles with desire. He puts his
thumb into my mouth and I suck on it. I can feel his hardness against my belly
button. I want to touch it. Am I ready for that?

Before I have time to decide my body is twisted around and now
I’m facing the opposite direction. Now my hands are plastered to the glass. His
thumb presses against the back of my neck while his fingers lay firmly around
my throat.  My legs are spread wide as if I’m about to be body searched by the
cops.

His hand inches up my thighs until they find their way inside
my shorts. My breath quickens as he rubs my wetness. I gasp when three of his
fingers enter me at once. My eyes close as I relish in the pleasure that’s
erupting between my legs. I moan. I want to call out his name but I don’t know
a name to call so I just say “Yes” every time his fingers plunge into me. I
open my eyes just long enough to see that we’ve drawn a crowd of spectators.
Surprisingly I don’t care.

Just when I’m at my peak, begging him to go faster, he bites
down into my shoulder. I yell out in ecstasy. Within seconds I reach my climax.
My head falls forward as I brace myself against the window. I’m out of breath
as if I’d just run a marathon. His hand leaves my throat. He then kisses the
back of my neck as he retrieves his other hand from underneath my damp shorts.
Thankfully for me they’re black. His mouth now rests on my ear. He nips my
earlobe. “Until next time,” he whispers. And with that, he turns to leave. My
body slumps down to the floor as I watch him walk away.

Damn.

I hold the bar of soap to my nose and inhale the honey apple
crisp fragrance. It reminds me of my favorite jolly rancher flavor. Green
apple. I lather my body with the invigorating soap. I close my eyes as my hands
smooth over my skin. Flashbacks of the mystery man roaming his hands over my
body pop into my head. I touch my neck in the places that his lips had been just
moments before. My hand moves down to my breasts and my finger circle my
nipple. I smile at the memory of him holding them, gently, between his teeth.
Richard had been a sucker. I knew that I liked to have my nips sucked but until
tonight I never knew that I
love
having them nibbled. The pain-pleasure
that came from his teeth scraping against my sensitive flesh was hypnotic.

I stand under the showerhead and allow the warm water to rain
down on my body and wash away the soapsuds. I feel like a sleeping bear waking
from hibernation. My body is so charged with sexual energy that every inch of
me is sensitive to the touch now. I cut off the water.

I need more of this.

More of
him
.

Friday…

“I still can’t believe you went to Club Masquerade without me,
slut bucket.” Bianca giggles into my cell phone.

“In my defense I did call you. A few times, I might add.”

“You didn’t leave a message, so I had no idea what plan your
sinful mind had come up with. I would have jumped at the opportunity to get my
freak on versus being stuck in a hospital room for four hours. I hate
hospitals. I haven’t been in hospital since…” her words trail off.

I know what she wanted to say. She hasn’t been inside a
hospital since my mom got sick.

“Anyway, I’m so proud of you for going by yourself!” Bianca
squeals.

I laugh.

“You’re a big girl now, Rissa.”

“Whatever.”

“So how was it?”

I sigh. “Intoxicating is the best word to describe how I felt
when I left that place.”

“Intoxicating? Wow, Rissa. That’s amazing coming from you.
I’ve never heard you describe sex as intoxicating before. I don’t even know if
I’ve ever heard you use the word
good
before.”

I shake my head. “I know because I haven’t. I’ve never really
talked about sex with you before.” We both laugh. “This wasn’t even
sex
sex,
and it was mind-blowing. I had no expectations when I walked into the club that
night. My only hope was to see him again. I didn’t expect to talk to him or touch
him or anything. Then the next thing I know, bam, I’m having my first orgasm in
a sex club up against a window from his freaking hand.”

“Damn. You keep getting action like that, you definitely won’t
need Mr. Bullet.”

I laugh. I’d almost forgotten about that vibrator. I guess
because I had no intentions of ever using it. “I wore one of my new lingerie
outfits that I bought from Victoria’s Secret. Thanks to my bestie.” I smile.

“Really? Let me see what you wore?”

“Okay hold on.” I walk over to my hamper, take out the black
satin cami set, lay it out on my carpet then take a pic with my phone. I send
the photo via text to Bianca. “Just sent it to you.”

“That is so cute, Rissa. Wow,” Bianca says after a few
seconds. “I bet you looked deelish in that.”

“I imagine it did the job.”

“I honestly think lingerie is really for the woman’s pleasure.
Men can care less what you have on. As long as you are naked in the end…they
don’t care.”

“I actually like dressing up. Even if they don’t pay
attention.” I toss the pajama set back into the hamper. “I wonder if I would’ve
done stuff like this for Richard, would it had made a difference. Would we
still be together right now?” It’s strange to even have this thought since it’s
more than clear that Richard has completely forgotten about me and moved on. 

Bianca sighs. I know she hates that I still talk about him.
She was never his cheerleader anyway. “You may have been a prude and all,"
—she laughs— “but you were still a great girlfriend to Richard. I think that
you guys grew apart, and that’s okay. Growing apart from you actually helped
you grow into this sexual adventurous sex kitten. The most important thing is you
haven’t lost who you are deep inside. You just added a little spice to your
life. The next guy you give your heart to will be one lucky dude.”

Aww. This is why she’s my best friend. She always knows the
right thing to say. “Thanks, Bee.” I smile.

“So maybe next Friday we can go back to Club Masquerade
together since you have your meeting tonight.”

“I will pencil you in my dear,” I say with excitement building
just at the thought of seeing my mystery man again.

“Now get dressed girl, it’s almost nine o’clock.”

“Kay, talk later. Love you, Bee.”

“Love you too, girl.”

Once I step out the shower I look over at the clock on my windowsill.
I have thirty minutes to get dressed. I towel off leaving my skin slightly
damp. I read somewhere that you should apply lotion to your skin while it’s
slightly damp so that it can penetrate your skin better and leave you
moisturized longer. I don’t know how true it is but I do it anyway. I take my
almond scented lotion and smear it over my entire body. I can’t stop the moans
that escape my lips every time my hand touches a part of me that was touched by
him
. I want to keep touching myself. To keep reliving his soft caresses
and his kisses and his nibbles and his…I glance at the clock on my cable box.
Damn. I got to get dress.
Get it together, Marissa. Get it together.

I take from my closet the only little black dress that I own.
A simple black dress that stops just above my knees with removable spaghetti
straps. It was actually given to me by Bianca out of pity. She said that every
girl should have at least one little black dress. I slip into the dress, apply
a little mascara, eyeliner, and lip-gloss. I check my time. Ten minutes before
Mr. White is supposed to arrive. I grab my paddle brush from my dresser, flip
my hair over, brush out the tangles then secure it into a sleek high bun. I
give myself a once over in the mirror. This will have to do. The doorbell
rings. He’s early. I should’ve expected that.

I grab my heels and purse. My lower lip twitches. I exhale
slowly as a bundle of nervous energy fill my tummy. This is a business meeting,
not a date. Calm down. I take my tape recorder from my desk drawer, place it
inside my purse then make my way downstairs. I put on my heels then answer the
door. "Mr. White." I smile.

He's dressed in a nice black suit, no tie. "Miss
Riley." He looks me up and down.

I can't tell if he approves or not. "Are you ready?"
I ask.

He shakes his head. "This is not going to work."

My brows draw together. "What's not going to work?"

"Your look."

"You told me to wear something nice." I look down at
my outfit. "This is as nice as it gets for me."

He stares at my hair. "My client likes blondes."

"Okay." I shrug.

"He also loves girls with long hair. You should where
your hair down.”

"Are you serious? I don't think my hair is going to make
or break the deal." I roll my eyes at the thought.

Mr. White steps in the door. His large frame pushes me back a
step. "Turn around."

I stare at his mouth because I can't bring myself to look into
his eyes. Without question I turn around. I stand there tingling with
anticipation. But nothing’s happening. What is he doing? Is he staring at my
butt? I turn my head to the side. “Mr. White? Is something wrong?”

He clears his throat then within seconds my hair is pulled
loose and cascading down my back.

"Now I'm ready," he says.

I turn around to see him walking toward his car. I sigh. This
should be an interesting night. I lock the door then take careful steps down
the driveway. My boss waits near the passenger side of a black sports car. As I
approach he opens the door. At least he's somewhat a gentleman.
"Thanks." I get inside and he shuts the door after me. I survey the
car. Nice. Neat. And it smells like cherries.

The leather gives under Mr. White’s strong body. He fastens
his seatbelt then starts the car. "I'm sure you understand this but I need
to reiterate that this is an important meeting. Do you remember the client’s
name?"

"Yes. Mr. Glenworth."

"Glenworth is what I like to call ‘old money’ wealthy.
And he loves his women and partying. He throws the biggest party every year in
LA. Everybody who is somebody is on the guest list. He’s thinking of doing a
birthday party for his new girlfriend. She's in her mid-twenties, which is
another reason I wanted you to accompany me to this meeting. If we can persuade
him to hire us to host and handle the logistics of this party it will open up a
lot of doors for other major events. We want to be one of the first stops that
people of Glenworth's status makes when they want to have a party or special
event."

"I got it. This meeting is extremely important and I'm
willing to help as much as needed to secure this client."

He finally looks at me. "I noticed your tattoo on the
back of your neck.”

Of course he wasn’t staring at your butt, Rissa.
“My
mom died a year ago from breast cancer so I got the pink ribbon in her memory.”

He turns his gaze back to the road. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks.”

We pull up in front of the hotel. The valet opens my door and
helps me to my feet. "Thanks." I smile and wait for Mr. White to walk
around the car.

He stands beside me and I follow his gaze as it roams over my body.
He looks me in the eyes. "Did you bring your recorder?"

I let out a frustrated breath to my surprise. I guess I
expected a compliment. I don't know why. "Yes." I pat the front of my
purse. "Right here."

"Good girl."

My lips pull into a tight smile.

We walk into the lavish hotel. I've never been in here before
but I've always wanted to stay here. Unfortunately, I don't have one-kay to
drop for a one night's stay. And that's the cheapest you can get for one of
their standard rooms. Bianca celebrated her twenty-first birthday here last
year in the nice lounge that they have. I was still mourning my mother's death,
so I didn't go to the party. Of course she understood. I have to find a way to
make that up to her this year by the way.

I follow alongside Mr. White as we walk through the lobby. I
try to ignore the stares but in every direction I look there's some chick
eyeing us. They're probably wondering how in the world a girl like me pulled
such a hunk. If only they knew that he is just my arrogant boss then they
wouldn't look at me with such envy. We walk up to the hostess desk.

My boss places his hand on the small of my back. I glance up
at him but he's facing straight ahead. "Good evening. We are meeting Mr.
Glenworth for dinner."

The hostess stares at him for a moment too long before
checking her computer. "Yes, sir. Mr. Glenworth has arrived. I will show
you to your table." She walks over to us. "This way." She gives
him this "I want you" smile.

I'm sure he's wishing she were his assistant right now. She
has all the qualities that Mr. Glenworth likes. She's beautiful, young and
blonde
.
The hostess leads us through the dining area to a table that's somewhat
secluded from the rest of the tables. A bald guy with dark rimmed glasses sits
with a twenty-something blonde with long Jessica Simpson type hair. She looks
like she should be on the cover of
Sports Illustrated
. As soon as she
spots us coming towards them her mouth drops open and her eyes widen in
admiration.

Mr. Glenworth rises from the table with a grin, completely
oblivious to the googly eyes his girlfriend is giving my boss. I shake my head.
This is something I'm going to have to get used to when accompanying him out in
public I suppose. "Mr. White," —Mr. Glenworth extends his hand—
"nice to meet you." He motions for Blondie to stand. "This is
Heidi, the birthday girl."

Hmm. He didn't introduce her as his girlfriend. I guess being
a wealthy man who can have any woman he wants...titles aren't necessary. Who
needs titles when you’re getting his time and his money?

Heidi stands in a skintight red cocktail dress. She's about
three inches taller than Mr. Glenworth. My gaze is immediately drawn to her
chest. Damn. Her breasts makes my B cup look like the chest of a
twelve-year-old boy. She tugs on the hem of her dress, which barely covers her
crotch before she shakes Mr. White’s hand with a little too much enthusiasm. With
the way she's drooling over him I don't think my presence is needed for this
meeting after all. I'm pretty sure Blondie has her own tricks to get Mr.
Glenworth to do just about anything she wants.

Mr. White turns to me. "This is my assistant,
Marissa."

I extend my hand to Mr. Glenworth. "Nice to meet you,
sir."

Mr. Glenworth smiles then kiss the back of my hand. "The
pleasure is all mine. Are you sure you're not a model? You're much too pretty
to be his assistant."

I smile. My first compliment of the night comes from a
sixty-year-old man. But I'll take it. "You are too kind. Thank you for the
compliment."

"It's no compliment, sweetheart, it's the truth." He
winks at me.

I look over to Heidi. She's still smiling while stealing
glances at Mr. White. I look at him and he's smiling with his gaze trained on
Mr. Glenworth. I return my gaze to Mr. Glenworth who's still holding my hand. I
slip my hand out of his. "Thank you."

"Sit. Sit," Mr. Glenworth says.

My boss and I take the two seats across from the couple.

"Wine?" Heidi asks as she pulls the bottle of white
wine from the ice bucket.

"Sure, thanks." Mr. White takes the bottle from her
hand. "Marissa?"

"Oh no, only water for me."

"Oh come on, sweetheart. Have a glass," Mr.
Glenworth says.

"I don't drink."

"You don't drink?" Heidi asks as if she's never
heard anyone say that before.

"No, Heidi, I don't drink."

"Heidi, be a dear and pour her some water."

She snaps her head toward Mr. Glenworth. "What?"

"The water." He nods his head toward the pitcher of
water near her. "Pour some into Marissa's glass."

Heidi stares at him as if she's trying to comprehend what he just
said. After what seems like forever she grabs the pitcher of water and my wine
glass then fills it up to the brim. "Here."

I smile wide as I take the glass from her hand. I can tell by
the look on her face that I won't be getting a personal invite to her birthday
party. "Thanks."

"Yes, thank you, Heidi," Mr. White says.

I look over to him. He flashes his playboy grin and Heidi
lights up like a Christmas tree. I shake my head then take a sip of my ice-cold
water.