Drawn to You: Volume 3 (8 page)

Felicity’s neon pink smile greets me as I enter the Pleasure Chest. Her eyebrows quirk up at me as I silently hand her my jacket and phone to store in coat check. Memories of Emily drift into my mind. The last time I was here was the night she came to the club. I haven’t been back since.

The club is thriving with an abnormal amount of guests as I step inside. To my dismay,
Love Will Tear Us Apart
by Joy Division is playing on the speakers. Fucking perfect.

I watch Felicity with irritation as she turns and places my belongings in the room behind her. She doesn’t say a word despite my silence, but I know something is on the tip of her tongue.

“What is it?” I growl.

“You look like shit.”

“I’m fine,” I lie.

Felicity brushes a hand through her long red hair as she rounds the corner. She crosses her arms over her chest and proceeds to stare at me with a critical look waiting for me to unravel.

“Are you here to see Francesca?”

There’s the million-dollar question.

“Yes.”

A look of disappointment crosses Felicity’s heart shaped face. She lets out a long sigh before handing me a key to room 23. A wave of anxiety passes through me. What if I feel worse after I do this?

“What happened to the blonde?” Felicity asks with curious eyes.

“Nothing.”

“Is that the problem?”

“This isn’t a gab session.”

She laughs and then points me in the direction of the individual playrooms.

“I hope you know you’re acting like an idiot,” she calls.

I ignore her and turn down the hallway to find room number 23. It’s set off to the side with a door painted red. My heart races as I turn the knob and walk inside. Despite the cool temperatures of the room, I feel my palms begin to sweat. I loosen my tie as I enter, hoping to stop the stifling rise of heat that I feel spreading across my skin.

Francesca waits for me inside on her knees. The dark-haired beauty looks up at me as I walk toward her. Her eyes are filled with primal hunger. She quickly tilts her head down letting me know that she’s ready and willing to surrender to me. I begin by rolling up my sleeves to my elbows. My dress shirt isn’t my regular clothing of preference when I do a scene, but today it will have to do. A smile of encouragement spreads across Francesca’s lips as I slowly pull a paddle from the display rack in the room. I’ll start slow. Maybe if I start slow, I’ll be fine.

Emily’s face pops into my mind as I walk over to the sub. The spanking that I gave Emily in bed left me itching for more. I shake my head to clear my thoughts, but the torn look on Emily’s face that day on the yacht plagues me. I can’t get her out of my fucking head. I slam my fist against the wall rattling the rack of floggers, leashes, and whips.

“What’s wrong, Tristan?”

Fuck, what am I doing?
I quickly back away from Francesca and let the paddle fall to the floor.

Everything.

I leave the Pleasure Chest in a whirlwind. I don’t even bother grabbing my jacket from Felicity as she hands me my wallet, keys, and cell phone. It isn’t long before I’m near my apartment again trying to maneuver through traffic. The thought of being back at my studio gives me some peace, but it doesn’t drown the gnawing feeling of guilt in my stomach. I lift my phone from my pants and scroll through my list of contacts. Emily’s face pops on my screen. I stare at the picture that I secretly snapped of her at the beach. She wasn’t even aware of the candid I took as she swam in the water with her friend Augie. I click on her name as my phone dials her number. With each ring, my body begins to shake. Beads of sweat form on my forehead and on the back of my neck.

After several minutes, Emily’s phone finally goes voicemail.

“Emily, I love you. Please don’t delete this message.”

Emily

It’s funny how three little words can make or break you.

I love you.

His words feel like a kick to the chest. A wave of anxiety hits me as I listen to the voicemail Tristan left me on my cell. Most of his sentences come in and out, but those three words I’m certain I heard right. My chest squeezes in an all too familiar way, leaving me gasping for air. I never expected to hear him say those words ever, let alone over a voicemail. I’ve said them in my mind a million times over, but never out loud. I set down my book of poetry and replay the voicemail over again. Each time I hear Tristan’s voice, I feel my heart break just a little more. He sounds upset. His pitch matches the same desperation I feel whenever I hear his name.

It’s almost been three weeks now since I’ve spoken to Tristan. I thought his absence in my life would get easier, but it hasn’t been easy. I don’t feel like myself anymore. Every day seems a little less bright.

I’ve filled my days with reading to escape the reality outside my apartment. I get lost in pieces of literature where the hero and heroine always find their happy ending. Unfortunately, fiction doesn’t seem to translate well in real life. I’m starting to feel like happy endings were made for fools. Although Jane Austen would say,
we are all fools in love
. I’m just feeling a bit extra foolish today.

“Emily?”

A voice calls from behind me. I turn to find Augie dressed in a pair of plaid pajamas. Not too far off behind him is Harvey. My heart squeezes at the sight of them.

“Hey,” I say weakly.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“No.”

Tears rush forward as I bite back a sob.

“What’s wrong?”

Augie steps forward pulling me into his arms as he tries to soothe me. Shame overwhelms me as Harvey stands in the background unsure of what to say. This is so embarrassing. I’m making the worst impression with Harvey. The thought of it unleashes a flurry of tears. God, he must think I’m the most emotional person ever. Since he’s been here, all he’s seen me do is cry, watch RomComs, read, stuff my face with potato chips and then cry some more. I’m a walking hot mess.

Augie rubs my back as I try to regain my composure. I straighten out my shirt although it doesn’t help with the dripping mess on my face.

“Tristan finally called.”

The words stumble out of my mouth. A sharp gasp releases from Augie’s chest. He stares over at me with wide, concerned eyes.

“What did he do? Do I need to kick his ass?”

I laugh through my tears.

“No…it’s not like that.”

“Then don’t keep me in suspense, woman. What did he say?”

“He left a message. He said he loved me.”

A bright smile appears on his face. He glances to the side at Harvey and their eyes connect. Somehow, I know they’re having a secret conversation right now. Augie grabs my phone and replays the message Tristan left. He bites his lip as if something wicked is going through his mind. He walks over to the kitchen, grabs a paper towel, and then hands me it.

“Dry your tears. Tonight we’re going to that party.”

“Augie, I think I changed my mind.”

“You have to go,” Harvey says.

Augie and I both look up at him. His face lights up with a smile.

“Yes, you have to go. And you’re going to invite Tristan.”

“What? No. I don’t think a party is a good place.”

“It’s perfect,” Augie says.

“Now, get ready.” Harvey smiles.

Emily

I’m floating, suspended in mid-air.

Or at least that’s what it feels like as my head spins after way too many tequila shots.

Patron does that to you.

Electronic dance music pumps from the party speakers as I make my way through the crowd of university students watching the beer pong tournament in the dorm hallway. Augie and Harvey disappear as they head towards the makeshift dance floor near the stairs. I take a sip of the semi-warm beer in my hand. It's finally starting to taste less like piss and more like alcohol.

As I make my way to the back of the party, my phone buzzes with a text.

Tristan: I’m here. Where are you?

My heart skips as I re-read the text message at least five times. I begin to text him back when I sense someone standing behind me.

Me: I’m near the dance floor.

I turn just as I send the text. Tristan stands behind me wearing dark wash jeans, a white V-neck, and a leather jacket. He looks like he just stepped out of the movie
The Outsiders
. I’m digging the whole Matt Dillon vibe. A smirk graces his face as his eyes scan me. I’m wearing a fewer clothes than I would like to be, but Augie convinced me to wear the smuttiest dress I own. It just so happens to be a black latex dress that I stole from Ceci when she slept over one night. Tit for tat. She took the love of my life and I stole one of her best dresses.

“Hi.” I smile.

My head is starting to feel fuzzy.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

The words roll off his tongue like black velvet. Even my ears are turned on by the sound. He steps forward just as I do. Our bodies meet and the magnetic pull I feel is enough to almost make me forget I’m supposed to be mad at him. He smiles, and for the first time in a long time, it reaches his eyes. My heart constricts as he places his hand on my hip and leads me to the dance floor just a few feet ahead of us.

My eyes search the room, and in my drunken haze, I spot Augie and Harvey throwing me the thumbs up. I wave at them making a cut it out motion. Tristan twirls me just as they start playing
Ink
by Coldplay. He pulls me to him and begins to mouth the words to me. I’ve never seen him so relaxed. It’s like he finally took a chill pill.

“I didn’t know you liked Coldplay.

“I do.”

We sway together as the room around us starts to shout-sing the song. A static shift happens in the atmosphere as Tristan leans in. I feel my body reacting to his as it mimics each move. Before I know it, my lips are centimeters away from his. Tristan waits for me to make the first move. My heart beats in my ears as the world slows around me. For the first time in a long time, my mind clears of all of my misperceptions. I want to do something for myself. Even if it’s wrong.

Tonight I don’t feel like being a good girl. Tonight I feel like being bad.

My lips crash into his as I leap into his arms. He grunts as he lifts me. The crowd around us disperses as he wraps his hands around my bottom and carries me into a nearby bedroom. We collapse on a bed with bedding that looks like they came right off of the merchandise rack of a New York Yankees memorabilia shop. I burst into laughter as I spot a poster of a beer babe hanging on the ceiling of the room.

Tristan looks up and grins.

Frantic hands unzip the front of my dress as I begin to unbuckle Tristan’s belt on his jeans. My eyes look up as a sharp intake comes from Tristan. His eyes widen as he spots the hot pink bra and panties that I’m wearing beneath my black latex dress. His mouth immediately comes down on my bra biting my nipple through the flimsy fabric. My hips jut in reaction as he grinds his still covered erection into my thigh.

“Tristan?” I moan. “Will you fuck me from behind?”

I blush as a slow chuckle erupts from his chest. He finishes unzipping my dress and then flips me over on my knees. I feel his grip tighten on my ponytail. His hands nearly rip off the pink lace covering my intimate area.

“I like this,” he says, nipping my ear.

“Me, too,” I moan. “Are you going to punish me?”

I can almost hear him smiling.

“No, I’m not going to punish you. At least not right now.”

“No?”

“No. Right now, I’m going to fuck you until your knees collapse underneath you.”

Oh. Fuck.

“You don’t come until I say so,” he growls.

I moan, thrusting my bottom into his pelvis. I hear his pants fall and then the sound of a condom ripping open. I hadn’t even thought of protection. I was too preoccupied with the thought of his cock inside me. My thoughts are cut short by the pressure of Tristan thrusting inside me. I grunt as he pulls my ponytail and bottoms out inside me. My fingers grip the sheets as he pushes and holds. I can feel my insides tightening around him. He stops and for a moment, I think I might cry. My torture is short lived as his motions speed up. My head spins as euphoria sets in.

“
I fucking love you,”
he whispers next to my ear as he lets my ponytail go and opts for a handful of my ass.