Scryer (10 page)

The succulent flavor of the lamb in my
mouth died as I swallowed.

“Ivy, how are you?” Michael stood beside
us, very much the powerhouse in his expensive suit and silk tie. Caleb’s eyes
went to him, and something sparked in me when I saw nothing in him that would
be intimidated or cowed.

“I’m fine, Michael.” My tone was civil,
yet still like ice in its unfriendliness,

Michael’s lips curved into a cold smile.
“I haven’t met your friend.” His gaze went to Caleb as if the younger man were
a curiosity and nothing to be taken seriously.

Caleb showed white teeth as he held out
his hand, yet he didn’t stand; he wouldn’t show that much respect. “Caleb
Rossi. I doubt you’ve heard of me. But I know you, Mr. Corin. I studied
commerce. One of my professors was a fan of yours. He frequently sang your
praises and held you up as a figure that we should all aspire to be.”

I had the distinct feeling that Caleb
was mocking him, and it took everything in me to keep my face straight.
Michael’s eyes narrowed at him as he shook his hand. “You’re right, Mr. Rossi.
I doubt you’re someone I would have heard of,” he said dryly. “However, Ivy is
very dear to me, so for that reason alone, I’m sure I’ll find out more about
you.” The men’s hands parted.

I let out a peal of laughter that sent
their eyes to me. “Oh, Michael. Drop the protective act. Nothing I do should
concern you.” I looked at Caleb. “I used to fuck his nephew, and Michael’s
father took my mother as his mistress. It’s all very sordid, and I’ve decided
it’s best to stay away from this family as much as possible.”

Caleb’s eyes shone with glee.
“Brilliant. Just like a soap opera. But if no one’s fucking you, Ivy, I’d love
to step into the role. What do you say?”

I matched his slimy smile. “Why Caleb, I
think that’s just perfect. Shall we start right now?”

Michael cleared his throat. “I appear to
have upset you, Ivy. I do apologize. I’ll see you soon.” He gave a slight nod
of his head before walking away to rejoin his table. I didn’t let my eyes
follow him, just in case Lake was watching. Instead I grinned at Caleb.

“That was great. I can’t stand that man,
and we pissed him off.” I raised my glass, instantly feeling lighter and freer.
“Here’s to us.”

“To us,” he echoed, raising his glass
and taking a gulp.

I leaned in toward him. “I was serious
when I said that I wanted to start right here, right now.”

His hand holding his glass paused in
mid-air and then he let it continue down to place the glass on the white
tablecloth, a sliver of dark red running down its side and threatening to mar
the white crispness and purity of the cloth.

He indicated with his head. “Bathrooms
are this way.”

I got to my feet. “Let’s go then.” I
took his hand, pulling him behind me as I led the way, past the snooty and
diamond laden women, past the men who all thought that they were important and
ruled the world. My skirt felt too short, my top too low. I felt decadently
slutty and wanton as I was about to screw in the bathroom of this upmarket
restaurant. I did not cast my eyes in the direction of Lake, but if he raised
his head to see us go past, then he must have guessed what we were about to do.

I took Caleb into the ladies room that
smelled like the exotic pink flowers sitting in a crystal vase on the marble
vanity. Mirrors and marble, gold fittings, a sanitary cleanliness—it excited me
that I was about to dirty it all up. I didn’t close my eyes to avoid all the
shininess and reflective surfaces. With Caleb, I was safe from my visions.

In one quick, smooth motion, I lifted
the bottom of my dress and pulled it over my head, my bra and panties swiftly
followed suit, falling in a pile on the glossy white floor. Completely naked
now, I turned to Caleb, our reflections mirrored numerous times around the room
like we were a thousand different people, all about to fuck at the same time
and in unison.

He licked his lips and his eyes trailed
down me. “Shall I block the door?”

I shook my head. “No. If we get caught,
we get caught. Now get over here.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Pushing
me against the wall, his lips went to my neck with a furious speed, sucking my
skin into his mouth as his arms encircled me. I felt my own moisture dribble
down my thigh without any touch there from him. Impatient, I grabbed his hair
and pulled his head up so I could capture his mouth in my own violent kiss. I
bit his lips and grunted, “Get your cock out.” His hands went to his fly, and
his pants dropped. Picking me up with ease, he pushed me hard against the
marble wall, and my head banged, but I didn’t care because at that stage he was
pushing into me, and I was gasping as he filled me, like he was scratching an
itch that I didn’t realize was even there.

“Fuck me,” I ordered. And he did—hard,
vicious thrusts that would have ripped the delicate flesh of a girl who wasn’t
as turned on as me. I closed my eyes in bliss, and he screwed into me as hard
as I wanted it. I heard a door bang open, and I laughed and didn’t bother to
look. Whoever it was must have scurried away, either in disgust or turned on.
No one else bothered us, and my cries echoed around the room as I came.

I laughed again as he held me up, still
in me, and panting away, sweat beading on his forehead. He grinned and slowly
let me down, sliding out of me. I stepped away from him once I was steady on my
feet again.

“Well, that was fun.” I reached for my
underwear. On the once clean marble wall, there was now a smear marking where
we had been.

Caleb pulled up his pants. “It’s always
fun with me, baby,” he said with his customary arrogance, which I found that I
didn’t mind.

Stepping into my panties, I dragged them
up over the cum on my thighs, feeling wanton and dirty once more. It made me
smile again. I would walk out into that fancy restaurant smelling like sex and
satisfaction. Once we were dressed, Caleb took my hand and led me from the
bathroom, never dropping my hand as we walked out amongst the diners and back
to our table. Curiosity overcame me, and I twisted my head to find Lake.
Immediately, I met his eyes. Unsmiling, he held my gaze. I wanted some kind of
reaction from him; I wanted jealousy to seethe from him like visible ectoplasm
and float across the room.

But there was nothing, and I turned
away.

Once our meals were finished, Caleb
drove me home. His hand lingered on my thigh during the entire drive, creeping
up under my skirt and tracing circles higher and higher on my skin. Once he
parked the car outside my building, I gripped his neck and brought his lips
down to mine. “Are you sure you want to fulfill your family obligations?” I
asked when I released him.

He sighed and nipped at my lips. “You
have no idea how much I want to take you upstairs right now and get you to ride
my dick, but…”

I laughed and pushed away. “Never mind,
I can satisfy myself. Thanks for dinner.” I swung my legs out of the car and
blew him a kiss before striding away and not looking back. The apartment was
silent when I entered, and predictably, all the lights were on. After switching
them off, I entered my bedroom and closed the door behind me. I paused for a
moment, leaning against the back of the door and letting my lips curve upwards
at the thought of what we had done in the restaurant bathroom.

But then I caught sight of my boxes, and
the pale pink one seemed to glow at me. I stepped forward and picked it up. “I
should throw you away,” I murmured, letting my nails dig into the wood and
expecting a splinter to pierce through into my flesh. It didn’t though. The
wood was too well varnished to let my nails intrude or ruin the finish. Someone
had once crafted the item with a lot of care and attention, delicately hand
painting the bird on the branch so it appeared to stare at me. I couldn’t tear
my eyes away from the creature, and I remembered the night that Lake had given
it to me.

He had appeared at my door late at
night, hands deep in the pockets of his coat.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” My heart gave a small jump of joy
at his appearance, but I didn’t let it show. “Want to come in?”

He gave a nod and walked past me into
the apartment. Penzance was away, and I had only the dimmest of lights
illuminating the place. He sunk down into the couch, his dark coat and hair
blending into the shadow like he didn’t wish to be seen.

“Do you want a drink or something?” I felt
almost nervous at how he was acting, so silent and unsmiling. I wanted the
drunk boy whom I had first met back, the one with his lighthearted, random
acts.

If he was staring at me, I couldn’t see
in the dark. “Sure.”

I walked to the fridge and grabbed two
beers. When I turned around, I let out a small cry and jumped back. Lake stood
right in front of me, staring down at me. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

I shrugged like I hadn’t just almost had
a heart attack. “It’s fine. Here.” I thrust the cold beer bottle at him,
feeling stupidly nervous.

He didn’t take it and kept staring at
me. “I missed you.”

His weirdness fled from my mind as he
said those words. “I missed you, too.”

A small smile spread across his lips and
he took both the bottles from me, placing them on the kitchen table before
taking a seat. I joined him and watched him open them and pass one to me. We
drank in silence for a while, nothing more needing to be said. Then, as if he
only just remembered, he sat up straight.

“I got you something.” He dug into his
coat pocket and drew something out before taking hold of my hand and placing it
in my palm. The wood was still warm and the finish smooth against my skin.
Maybe I gave a slight gasp of pleasure at the perfect box that Lake had given
me, or maybe I just stayed silent as I ran my hand over the images painted on
it. Either way, I felt almost spell bound at its perfection.

“Thank you,” I said softly, not taking
my eyes away from my new treasure.

“There’s something inside it.”

Slowly, I lifted off the lid, and the
cool fire of diamonds caught the light.

I looked up at Lake who sat there,
sipping his beer casually. “It’s too much.”

“No. It’s perfect for you.”

Swallowing, I tentatively hooked a
finger through the loop and lifted the bracelet out and just stared at it. Lake
took charge. He drew it around my wrist and fastened the clasp. It felt foreign
and cold against my skin.

“It’s beautiful. It really is,” I told
him.

He smiled. “But you like the box
better.”

I let out a laugh. “Am I that
transparent?”

He grinned and leaned forward and kissed
me before getting to his feet and holding out a hand to help me up. “Come on.
Show me where it will take pride of place with the others.”

I put it, of course, at the front and
turned to where he lay back on the bed, watching me.

“I love it. Thank you.” I sat down
beside him, trailing my hand over the bedcover, almost too scared to touch him
in case none of this were real and he would simply disappear in a puff of smoke,
and I would wake up alone, trapped in my reality. He had no such idiotic ideas
holding him back.

His hands slid
down my arms, and smoothed over my skin in a way that sent a tingle down my
spine. For a moment, I closed my eyes, inhaling his scent that was something
like cinnamon or some other dark spice. I felt intoxicated by it like it was
making me drunk with desire for him. When I opened my eyes, he pressed a soft
kiss to my lips with a surprising gentleness. It nearly took my breath away,
and my lips felt bruised when they shouldn’t have with the care that he had
taken. He leaned back and looked at me from under hooded eyes. He felt it too.
I could tell. I was drunk on him and he was drunk on me. Spurred on by this
realization, I leaned forward and placed my palm on the back of his head,
forcing him to kiss me again. There was a hesitancy there on his part that
registered somewhere in my brain, but then he was kissing me, and all coherent
thought went out the window.

His hands pushed
up my skirt, and I imagined what he made of me. Did my skin feel soft and
smooth under his touch? Was there a scent to me that worked to intoxicate him?
I hoped so, I really did. I couldn’t believe that I cared so much what he
thought. Putting my hands over his, I helped him push my skirt up, eager to
reveal myself to him, hoping to see pleasure and approval in his eyes.

Already I could
feel myself moistening in anticipation of having him touch me, be
in
me.
That hunger made me place his hands on my panties, in the center over which I
pulsed in desperation to be touched. His fingers began to massage me, working
to send sparks through me, only marred by the damn lace and silk of my panties
that suddenly felt too thick and too much of a barrier.

“I want you,” I
whispered into his ear. “I want you right now, in me.”

He responded by
kissing my neck and letting his fingers run over the lace at the waist band.
There was no hesitation now as they plunged down into me, and I let out a gasp
of satisfaction. But no sooner had he touched the slick of wetness that spelt
out my desire for him did he snatch his hand away as if burned, pushing away
from me and leaving me staring at him in confusion with my panties down and
skirt up.