The Price of Love Read online

  It was from this vantage point that she was able to see the ripple of awareness spread over the crowd, as everyone’s attention was suddenly drawn to the front of the club. She couldn’t see much through the cluster of packed bodies, but did catch a glimpse of thick, dark hair and broad shoulders encased in what even her fashion-blind eyes could tell was an expensive, custom suit. The man was surrounded by a protective layer of entourage.

  A low murmur spread through the throng, as the club patrons vied to get closer to the A-lister who had deigned to make an appearance tonight. A suit? Abby thought. Not a movie star, then, or a musician. But the sudden hush in voices and deference in the postures of the club goers suggested someone powerful, someone used to being in control. Must be money or politics, then. Or both. Despite her self-proclaimed disinterest in celebrity, Abby found herself craning her neck, trying to get a glimpse of whomever it was creating such a stir in the room.

  A sudden parting of people gave Abby an unexpected, unobscured look at him. Her whole body stuttered. The reaction was instantaneous, and more than a little shocking. Never had Abby felt a physical jolt from the mere look of a man, but one look at The Suit, as she already thought of him, and she felt a tingling sensation between her legs and she unconsciously thrust her breasts up and out in his direction.

  His dark, ever-so-slightly too long hair was tousled in a way that made it look like he’d just rolled out of bed, and an image of him naked, in her bed flashed through her mind. A strong chin framed a full mouth that had her thinking about pulling his bottom lip between her teeth. Wide, strong shoulders and a broad muscular chest tapered to narrow hips, and through the expertly tailored pants, Abby could make out the outline of well-defined, muscled thighs. As her eyes traveled back up his body, she found herself lingering just a moment too long on the front of his pants, and felt the pulse of arousal between her own legs.

  Good Lord, she thought to herself. What is going on with me? She forced her gaze up and away from his cock, and suddenly found herself looking directly into his eyes. Though his eyes were dark and unreadable, his lips formed a slight smirk, and she knew he’d caught her staring at his crotch. The look he gave her suggested he knew exactly what she was thinking. Their gazes locked for a moment— a long, drawn-out heartbeat of a moment—and then he broke the stare to run his glance down her body. His eyes stopped boldly on her chest, the smirk widening as her nipples hardened in response to his look, then traveled down to her legs, which were bare beneath her short mini skirt, and all the way down to her silver tipped toes. One of the men with him tapped his shoulder and whispered in his ear, while his gaze traveled back up her body. With just the briefest meeting of her eyes again, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

  Abby took a deep breath, refused to think about the tingling between her legs, and what it meant, and threw back a large gulp of the wine. She collected herself for a few minutes, aided by frequent sips of the wine. When the glass was empty, she felt together enough to search for Leah and not look for The Suit. She was so focused on not looking for him, though, that she barely saw anything at all, and her first pass through the club failed to reveal her friend. While Abby debated whether or not to have a second glass of wine before making another circuit, and if she could will herself not to look for The Suit a second time, a waitress appeared in front of her, bearing a glass of wine on a tray.

  “From the gentleman in the corner,” the waitress said, handing Abby the drink. The waitress’s eyes were focused on someone behind Abby, so she turned to follow the woman’s stare. She found herself looking once again into the eyes of The Suit, seated at the center of the VIP table. His arms were stretched out across the top of the leather booth he sat on, and he was flanked on each side by a gorgeous woman. Several bottles of expensive liquor were open on the table in front of him, and he held a glass full of amber colored liquid in one hand. The two females were both trying desperately to steal his attention, thrusting their obviously surgically enhanced breasts at him, practically salivating all over his lap. Next to each of the women was a disgruntled looking man…the women’s dates, she guessed. The men were both attractive, but nowhere near as striking as The Suit. The men were both trying to win back the attention of their dates.

  It was an interesting drama being played out, but The Suit seemed oblivious to it all. His attention was on Abby. With just the barest hint of a motion, he raised his own glass to Abby, which she acknowledged with a tip of her head before turning away in confusion. Her heart was pounding, and her face felt flushed with a heat that came from somewhere other than the crush of bodies gyrating around her. Why was he noticing her, focusing on her, when he was surrounded by beautiful, perfect-body women, with their long tresses of hair and full pouty lips? As she wondered how long she’d be able to keep herself from looking back at him again, Leah came bounding over, drunk and giggly and happy, saving Abby from herself.

  “Abs, I just ran into some friends from work,” Leah exclaimed, before lowering her voice, so that Abby could barely hear her over the music, “and Jackson is with them.” Leah grinned, and Abby smiled back. Leah had had a huge crush on her colleague Jackson for months, almost a year. Abby was sure that Jackson liked Leah too, but their timing had always been off, with one or the other being involved in a relationship or getting over a break-up, or being too slow to act on their feelings. But both Leah and Jackson were single at the moment. Abby hoped that tonight might be the night for them to finally start something.

  “We grabbed a table behind the bar. Come join us!” Leah continued. She looked ready to go on, or to pull Abby over to the table, but suddenly her eyes narrowed and she started intently at Abby.

  “Why is there an absolute perfect specimen of a man sitting in that corner boring holes into the back of your head? Or is it your ass that he’s really looking at?

  “Wow,” Leah went on. “He is seriously hot! I wouldn’t mind waking up to that…assuming of course that I’d even bother going to sleep next to him in the first place.” Leah smiled and stared boldly in the direction of the table. “And Abby, he is absolutely oblivious to everything but you right now. You need to get on that.”

  “No way,” Abby retorted sharply to Leah. Then she softened her words, “That is so not going to happen. I am not going to make a fool of myself by walking up to that table and trying to talk to him.

  Leah opened her mouth to argue, but thankfully, Jackson chose that moment to approach the women. “Hey Abby,” he greeted her, giving her a light hug.

  Leah looked torn. Abby knew she wanted to put more pressure on Abby to go up to The Suit, but she didn’t want to miss this time with Jackson. Abby really wanted the two of them to work out, even if that would mean that her last single friend was spoken for. Jackson was cute in a sexy-nerd way, and he played up that look by wearing the thick rimmed glasses that were in style lately. They gave his look a little distinction that made him something other than just “cute”. He was also smart and funny and nice, with a wicked and sarcastic sense of humor that saved him from being relegated to “nice guy” status.

  While Jackson made small talk with both women, his interest was clearly focused on Leah, and as the three of them spoke, he angled his body closer to Leah, and he reached out to her with casual touches that lingered longer and longer each time he made contact. Smooth, Abby thought. After a bit, he grabbed Leah’s hand and spun her around in a graceful turn that ended with him pulling her up against his body. “Abby,” he said, “I hope you don’t mind if I steal Leah away for a bit.”

  “Not at all.” Abby replied, happy to be off the hook.

  He smiled at Abby, while whispering into Leah’s ear “Dance with me,” before pulling her to the dance floor without even waiting for a response.

  Leah looked happy to let Jackson lead her, but before surrendering completely to him, she cast a speaking glare at Abby that said “Stop being a pussy. Go for it.” Then the rest of the world was gone to Leah and Jackson as they lost themselves in
each other, swaying and rubbing, and pulsing against each other in an intimate dance of foreplay.

  Abby was certain she wasn’t going to approach The Suit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to take the chance to sneak a peek at him again. A subtle side glance towards the VIP table indicated that while the two couples and the alcohol remained, The Suit was no longer there. Abby refused to acknowledge the pang of disappointment that coursed through her. The headache that she had managed to smother for most of the evening began pushing its way back into her temples, and she decided it was time to go. She pushed her way onto the dance floor and inserted herself between Leah and Jackson to tell Leah she was leaving. She said she’d grab a cab, and told Leah to be good and to call her tomorrow. Leah nodded her assent before falling back into Jackson’s arms.

  Chapter 3

  Knowing how scarce the cabs were on the Cape, and acknowledging it might be a while before she made it home, Abby decided to freshen up before leaving. She wasn’t sticking around hoping for one more glance of The Suit. Really. A line snaked its way out of the ladies restroom, and Abby grimaced at the anticipated wait. She ignored the voice in her head whispering that the longer she waited in line, the better the chances she’d see The Suit again. She bounced on her toes in the line for a couple minutes as she waited, her eyes scanning the crowd, just to get in a little last-minute people watching, and definitely not any Suit-searching. . But despite all of her mental protests, when her gaze landed on the broad back of The Suit, standing near the bar, she felt an intense surge of excitement that had her heart skipping a beat. He was still here!

  Then she saw a red-finger nailed hand reach out and rest gently on his forearm. She couldn’t see The Suit’s face or the woman the hand belonged to, but she could tell that their faces were close together. And Abby could watch the woman’s hand when it grasped his, tugging it toward her. And she could clearly witness the two as they weaved through the crowd towards the exit.

  At that, Abby made a quick decision. She stepped out of line, heading instead for a closed door tucked in the back of the club. It led to the offices and, more importantly for Abby, a private bathroom. Being friends with the bouncer had its perks. Mitch had told her and Leah that they could use this bathroom if they needed to, as long as they didn’t tell anyone else about it. This was the first time Abby had taken Mitch up on that offer, though. The first time she’d needed to.

  The intensity of the music faded as she made her way down the hallway towards the bathroom, limiting it to a low thrumming bass. With a soft swoosh, the bathroom door closed behind her. Abby’s eyes opened in surprise as she took in the opulence of the room. While not large, it was spacious for a bathroom, with the toilet tucked inconspicuously away in the corner. The main focus in the room was a large, crystal chandelier. A chandelier! Sparkly! The high ceiling ensured the light fixture remained a prominent feature in the room, while not dominating it. An intricate bronze frame surrounded the mirror that hung over the marble topped vanity. In contrast to the public restroom, which was relatively clean compared to the nastiness one could find in some clubs, this room was spotless. It almost looked like a model-home room, and not something that was ever used for such a mundane purpose as actually peeing.

  The quiet was a relief. Abby sighed and let her shoulders slump in the sudden silence. She hated to admit it, but she was disappointed that The Suit had left with another woman. While he was there, the potential for something to happen existed. That potential heightened her senses and spawned an excitement in her that she didn’t feel often enough. She thought about the way his eyes had traveled over her body, and how they’d lingered on her chest. Just the memory of his gaze made her nipples hard again. She closed her eyes, and let her hand drift over her breast, gently brushing her erect nipple, thrilled by the feeling of recklessness that was suddenly bubbling inside her. She passed her hand over the tip again, a little harder this time, arching her back into the touch, imagining it was his hand caressing her instead of her own.

  She knew he was going to feed her fantasies for a long time, even as she knew that the fantasies would be only a meagre substitution for the real thing. For once, she was willing to admit Leah was right. Her vibrator would never be able to create the intensity of feeling a simple glance from The Suit had caused. Once more, she brought her hand to her breast, this time gently pressing her nipple between her thumb and index finger, moaning softly as she pictured The Suit’s fingers on her breast.

  “I’m not accustomed to being this irrelevant to a woman’s pleasure,” came a deep voice from behind her.

  Abby shrieked and spun around, gasping in shock and embarrassment as she focused on the object of her fantasy. The Suit had silently entered the room, which suddenly seemed a thousand times smaller than it had a second ago. He was leaning casually against the bathroom door, his legs crossed at the ankles, hands in his pockets. Self-confident, borderline-haughty amusement shone in his eyes.

  “Please, don’t let me interrupt your…freshening up,” he continued.

  Abby struggled to find both breath and words, as she fought unsuccessfully to erase the blush that stained her cheeks. Oh my god, oh crap, shit, she repeated in her mind. Thank god he doesn’t know what I was thinking!, she tried to console herself, even though the look in his eyes and tilt to lips implied that he knew exactly what she had been thinking. Knew that it was his hands she imagined touching her.

  She wanted to run, to disappear, to melt away and forget this episode had ever happened. She wished she could transport herself to her house, where she could be curled up on the couch watching TV, away from this moment. When a surreptitious click of her heals and a desperate “There’s no place like home” plea to whatever god was listening failed to pull her out of this nightmare, Abby did the only thing she could think of: she squared her shoulders, tipped up her chin and boldly stared him in the eye. There was nothing to do but brazen it out at this point.

  “That’s okay,” she began. “I was just about done anyway.” She turned back to the mirror and fluffed her hair and pretended to fix her lipstick with her thumb, while talking herself into confidently stalking out of the room, out of the club, and out of The Suit’s life…forever. At home she could revel in her embarrassment. And one day, she thought, she might even be able to laugh at this memory. A soft click behind her froze her hand, finger still resting on her bottom lip. Even the air in her lungs stilled as she met The Suit’s dark eyes in the mirror. His right hand was out of his pocket and on the lock to the bathroom door, sealing her inside with him, and keeping the rest of the world out.

  “You’re not anywhere close to done,” he declared, and moved towards her, covering the space between them in two strides of his long, muscular legs. Leaving just inches of air between their bodies, he shrugged out of his suit jacket in one smooth motion, then reached past her to lay the jacket on the sink behind her. His arm brushed against her side as he did so, causing Abby to gasp and flinch, as if she’d been burned. In fact, her skin did feel on fire, even though the touch was two layers of clothes removed from being skin on skin. She felt another pulse in her groin and a slick of wetness between her legs. Suddenly, the lacy black thong she was wearing didn’t seem like a good idea. There wasn’t nearly enough fabric there to mask her arousal.

  Without another word, The Suit’s hand was suddenly on her thigh, running up the back of her leg, and under her skirt to cup her ass. One eyebrow rose appreciatively as he realized how little fabric there was to contend with. His finger traced the top string of her thong, and then edged inside the scant fabric and ran down the crack between the cheeks of her buttocks with just the lightest of touches. Abby felt herself panting for breath, powerless to speak, powerless to do anything more than just keep herself from collapsing in a puddle on the floor. His fingers reached between her legs from behind to brush the outside of her pussy lips. Once, twice, he swept over her skin, drawing an involuntary moan from her lips. On his next, he slid a finger between her lip
s to dip ever so slightly into her opening. Then he pulled his hand away, and held his fingers up in front of her, so she could see the glistening moisture on their tips.

  “Nowhere close to done,” he repeated, “but definitely ready.”

  He took a half step back, and then commanded her, “Take off your panties.” Abby complied, without even a second of hesitation. She slid them down to her knees and let them drop to the floor before stepping out of them. She felt like she was hypnotized, unable to form any coherent thought, unable to do anything but what this man told her. She was powerless to follow any but his lead.

  The Suit took a step back toward her and without warning, grasped her waist and lifted her onto the sink. Her skirt rode up in the process, and she felt cool silk lining of his suit jacket against her bare ass. Now he reached out and slid first one, then the other, thin spaghetti strap of her tank top off her shoulders. Without the straps holding it up, the stain fabric of her top slid down her torso and pooled around her waist, leaving her breasts naked and exposed. Her nipples were hard as rocks, and the cool breeze from the air conditioning whispered against them. They were so sensitive that even the soft breath of air across them made them tingle, and the heat that had been growing between her legs began spreading throughout her body. Her pussy felt full and swollen and pulsed with every beat of her racing heart and with every ragged breath she managed to draw in. The Suit’s hand reached toward her, and pinched one of her nipples between his thumb and index finger, hard. Abby heard a desperate moan that she realized came from her, and felt a fresh burst of wetness between her legs. She arched her back into his hand, though he just chuckled softly and pulled his hand back. Unable to stop herself, Abby whimpered at the sudden loss of his touch.