He was surrounded by the familiar environment which had proven to be his best therapy for years. Here, his identity was concealed in a diamond mask, an outlet for that side of him which he hid from the world to manifest freely. Without judgments. Here, he could engage in any form of debauchery and relieve his stress in the best way; hours of romp which weren't limited to the sheets. He had created this place for that purpose; to enable other highly placed people who had been constrained by high societal expectations let it all out.From the roof top, the expansive strip club appeared smaller to Andre, so tiny from his view he could cover it with his hands. It was for this reason that he had chosen the roof top as his office, irrespective of how bizarre it had seemed to the architect in charge of the project at the time. Based on Andre's instructions, the office was made up of thick glass walls which could afford him privacy while exposing the view of all the other sections they had.
Although he knew her professional name, Andre always preferred referring to her real name since she was one of the few people who were aware of his double identity. Her real identity was of course compromised as well, which was why it had been easy to place her as Clara's housekeeper. The initial intention had been to keep an eye on Clara and ensure that she didn't spill his secret. She had reported to him every Friday before he went on stage, always keeping to the time. Like now. But he hadn't been expecting her to come tonight. She answered his question. "Clara...Ms. Lynn fired me. I'm sorry but... She found out who I was." His face fell reflexively, his throat moving as he linked his fingers together. "She just happened to know that you're a concierge here?" Guinevere shook her head. "She was suspicious and kept asking how I got to call the hospital, she... She seemed to remember that you came to her house..." "She was fucking passed out, Ms. Guinevere. She couldn't have trus
Soaking herself deep in the bathtub had been proving to be a damn good recovery therapy. Scratch that she had always enjoyed the sweet spices of the body wash that Guinevere had restocked every month even before then. Her skin had become addicted to it, glowing more especially when she moisturized it with a body milk which had come as a set with the wash, as well as oil and scrub. Despite her almost skeletal state, her skin hadn't depleted in being beautiful, and albeit more pale than it had been before, it was shimmering beneath the foamy waters she had soaked her body in. Clara played with the bubbles floating above the water, her head placed against the marble bathtub. She still didn't have everything planned out, but she had spoken to her mum and started packing to go home for a week at least. She had booked her ticket online for the next morning, the best decision she could make at the moment considering how she had insisted on sending her caretakers away. She refused to po
The heart was a willful bitch; it clung to its subject of interest irrespective of how toxic they were, and commanded the body to do the same against the mind's better judgment. Her palms tightened around Andre's jacket of their own volition, her head lying on his chest, listening to that provocatively serene music played by the fast beats of his heart. She was completely conscious today, sane enough to testify that he was really lifting her up and carrying her to the bedroom. Yet it felt like a dream she was afraid of waking up from, despite her awareness that she needed to snap out of it. Clara kept quiet, making no effort to resist which had nothing to do with the weakness that washed over her. She craved and had missed being in his arms; perceiving that faint whiff of aftershave which mingled with his cologne and masculine sweat to a signature fragrance that ought to be sold as an aphrodisiac. It was fucking awesome, inducing more sexual energy than the aphrodisiac mists use
The doorbell went off almost the same time with her phone notification sound, tugging Clara away from the blissful sleep her body had succumbed to. Her lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the semi-darkness of her room which created an illusion of the early hours of the morning. The sun was however peeping through the shut blinds, their shadows making efforts to announce the real time of the day and whisper how long she had slept to her. Her body was a testament to that; well rested and a tad stronger than her bones had been before. That didn't however imply her body's readiness to engage in a marathon. She was simply a lot less shitty than the previous night. Remembering what had woken her up, she reached for her phone which lay on the nightstand next to another quiet one, sucking a deep breath as she recalled how that other phone had kept going off incessantly in the night till Andre had changed its settings and silenced it. She told herself a
"I'll leave so you can get some rest, but I'll be back."Clara wasn't replaying those words in her head, nor were her eyes turning to the door every five minutes since seven o'clock when the sun completed its departure and the moon took precedence over the skies. She hadn't also laid in the couch in the living room in lieu of going to her bed, so she wouldn't miss hearing the doorbell when it rang.She hadn't also been missing him since her doorbell went off in the afternoon and the hospital crew appeared in her line of vision with instructions from Andre to check up on her. Neither had she thought of him as she ate the delicious healthy meal he had ordered to her address.She wasn't missing him, and she intended to lie to herself for as long as she could.Perhaps she was already reaching her breaking point, wrapped in the duvet she had dragged with her from her bed, her eyes alternating between the door and the clock. It was 9 o'clock now, and it marked two hours since her neck had
He cuddled her in her dreams, that realm of unrestricted possibilities which afforded her the luxury of being in his arms, his voice whispering to her in that low guttural tone that sent her juices flowing. His breath was fanning her ears, his palms running through her body. And how quickly did such romantic fantasy take an erotic turn? Those fingers which had known her most intimate places slipped into her tight opening, finding her wet and ready like a flower, her nectars flooding his thick fingers. His thumb rubbed against her clitoris in a slow circular motion, eliciting a loud moan from her. And inducing a flood of juices down her body which soon started to make her uncomfortable... It was almost as if she were... Clara's eyes snapped open, awakened by her heavy bladder which was almost quite ready to send it raining down her thighs. With a low curse, she dashed out of bed and found her way to the bathroom, her eyes shut in ecstatic relief as the heavy burden of biological ne
"You... That was manipulation!" "But do you want to leave me, honestly?" He still hadn't let her go, although his fingers had ceased to be in her walls and breasts. His arms were now wrapped around her, his nose buried in her neck. The scent of her arousal was fresh in his fingers irrespective of his having sucked them clean.She couldn't think with his body that close to hers, her brain breaking that chain of rationality which ought to be making her push him away.Andre didn't exactly exude green flags, but red had never been so attractive as it was on him. She wasn't supposed to get intimate with him again till she straightened the vagueness of their relationship, yet here she was, her hair plastered to his chest as though it belonged there."I... You hurt me." The words managed to leave her lips, proclaiming the honesty she hadn't planned to tell him. Her heart ached as flashes of those ugly scenario made a gallery in her mind, and it reflected in her eyes which became downcast, s
With each step Clara took towards the doors, she wished there wouldn't be any more surprises because her heart had taken too much of it. Yet as she stepped into the private room which catered to private performances for VIP members, she knew that her wish wouldn't be fulfilled and her heart might just find a way to keep from exploding. It was the room where she had reconciled Adonis with Andre, the foundation of the secret relationship she had started with her boss, boyfriend, and business partner. Including a hell of everything else he was to her. Yet everything from the arrangement to illumination wasn't the same, nor was the mood set by the soft music which blared through the speakers. '...'Cause all of me Loves all of you Love your curves and all your edges All your perfect imperfections...' John Legend's 'All of Me' had never sounded more emotional, that beautiful voice invoking to her mind memories of the man she had fallen in love with, who stood in the middl
Fuck, her palms joined together of their volition even before she registered that she was clapping, a tear forming in her eyes as the lights went off again. She wasn't even aware of the masked female concierge who came into the room till she perceived an enchanting feminine cologne and darted her eyes towards the direction of the third party. She and the mood she had been cast into already occupied the seats of the first two parties. "Good evening, ma'am. I'll be serving you tonight." She bore a tray of glass and a bottle of wine in the other hand. "A glass please." Clara muttered, suddenly aware of how patched her throat had become with dryness. A cold flute was soon in her hand, and she perceived the unique aroma before bringing it to her lips. It tasted sweetly sinful and smelt like soft sensuality although the alcohol level was only a background complement. Clara's eyes immediately went to the wine bottle with amazement clouding them; it bore an Italian name she couldn't
'I want your body on mine, forever.' A whisper, an imploration, a fucking vow. *** The theme tonight was ethereal. When the car halted in front of the X-Clusive and the chauffeur opened her side of the door, Clara Lynn stared at the tall building which now served as headquarters for another branch in Las Vegas as her Christian Louboutin rhinestone heels stepped on the floors. "Thanks, Will." She muttered to the chauffeur who replied in a similar polite fashion and shut the door, stepping into side with her. Some things like Andre's security following her around hadn't changed over the past one year, especially since their relationship had become public knowledge. But rather than the team who announced the presence of paranoia and made her friends uneasy at events, the slightly older man who doubled as a chauffeur escorted her to public functions. Once the gossip magazines had taken it upon themselves to get pictures of the hunky man opening doors for her, with captions which s
"This is impressive, Clara. I must admit, it's better than I imagined. We're definitely onboard." Literally, they had been onshore for more than four hours because Mr. Holmes apparently included her in her vacation plans for the day, and though she had kept glancing at her watch for the first thirty minutes, Clara hadn't been able to deny that the man did know how to enjoy himself. An ex workaholic in the business world who had decided to take a break as he was fast approaching forty, Holmes was looking for lucrative businesses to invest in so he could enjoy his rest while making money as well. It was a solid plan, and for the first three hours, Clara listened with interest as he talked about his plans for the future and even found herself laughing when he made a joke about wishing to get married to a smart woman who could match his ideas. Like her. A statement which she took care to laugh unnecessarily loudly to, just before making her own joke about already being engaged.
Andre Quinn was exhausted a few minutes after four in the evening when the hostess who served him another cup of herbal tea announced that they had arrived New York. It was the quickest journey he'd ever made to and fro his hometown, and that was a considerate setting of new record because he had never felt comfortable in the empty expansive mansion since his mother left. His mother. He was still coming to terms with how everything had unfolded, and was getting used to the idea of not mentally referring to Marie as 'the bitch' as he'd done for more than two decades. Even before he was legal enough to think the 'b' word. But giving himself a mental break over the past month had cleansed his spirits to a large extent. Apart from spending more time with his girlfriend and going on a drive with her sometimes in the evening, he had also mustered the courage to place a call to Thailand twice. And even when he'd heard Viscount's voice in the background on one of the occasions, he
Within twenty-four hours, Clara had succeeded in making headlines in office group chats which almost equated Andre Quinn's in international gossip magazines. Virtually every fucking person, including her subordinates turned to CCTV cameras and historians who documented her every move so as to analyse them later. And because her boyfriend thrived on being so damn generous it hurt, he rode the elevator down to her floor during lunch break and walked into her office amdist the obvious scrutinising eyes and fingers waiting for crumbs of information about them. He fed it to them; hot cake and ice cream to wagging tongues, and even offered them a dessert by staying in her office for thirty minutes after instructing her shocked assistant to hold her calls. And in the sweetness of his endless generosity, he gave them a ticket to their next meal when he finally came out of her office with his hand gently grazing her back, his eyes concentrated on hers as she told him about the meeting s
"Thanks, babe." *** Clara Lynn was a myriad of forest greenness. Vibrant and arrestingly charming in an army green suit whose skirt was designed to accommodate a slit that currently rode up to her thighs, she revealed an ample amount of eye-catching skin which glowed in creaminess beneath dark panty hose. Adorned with tiny jewelry of nephrite which complemented her skin as perfectly as the bright rays of the sun currently streaming through the open blinds, she had elegance and opulence revolving around her even before she began the meeting. And in addition to her silver blonde hair styled in tiny curls with waterfall braids to create a delicate look which complemented her glass make-up perfectly, she naturally drew attention to herself. However, irrespective of the awareness that she was captivating, Clara didn't make the mistake of being arrogant enough to think she owed it all to her physical appearance. Because over the last twenty-four hours, she had been placed at the cen
Andre understood what he hadn't said, and stared at the brown envelope with emptiness in his eyes and heart. He... Just needed a rest, a vacation. Marie cleared her throat as Viscount checked the time by the wall clock. Interesting, only twenty-five minutes had passed and twenty-five years worth of anger had been poured out within that short duration of time. "I... I didn't come with Anthony today to mock you, I'm sorry that I'm by his side despite the enmity between you two. I... I will end it with him if our union affects you. You're the most important person to me, baby..." "Becky?" Tony seemed genuinely betrayed and stunned and sad at the same time. Andre didn't know how to feel about any of it. Too many things had happened and his mind could only absorb little at a time. He couldn't give them his blessing because it wasn't in his place and watching his mother with a man who had been like an older brother to him wasn't exactly a sight for sore eyes. She was at least eleven y
"Dre..." Marie had started crying, quiet sobs spreading through the quiet room, her lean fingers pressed against her lips to stiffen the cries. But Andre didn't let that deter his continuation of that unpracticed speech. "Why don't you go ahead and pick the one you're the most beautiful in. Oh, you wouldn't know if you don't watch it. Should I play one for you...?" That was the point where Viscount's control snapped, and he stood with a force which made Clara's eyes dizzy for a second from watching him. "You fucking sleazy bastard! You are not in a position to cast judgement on her when you don't have a freaking idea what she's been through. Vengeance? Punishment? I should be the one casting it on you and your bastard of a dad for taking the company. My father fucking killed himself because of the way he was cast out!" "What? My father and I took the company? Remind me the number of times I contacted you after you started giving me the cold shoulder, asking what had gone wrong.