Requisite Vices Page 3

  The light fixture mimics the trees scattered throughout the lawn; a jumbled lump of white washed oak branches, copper stamped leaves and rose quartz flowers which hang delicately among the branches. A soft glow is refracted in the gems, casting dappled pinks on everything residing within its touch.

  Ann’s hand releases mine and rips my thoughts back to the original reason she called me here. She requested my presence to look over a story she had been working on for almost a year, now. It was something that started as a small idea, then grew till it completely consumed her every waking moment, and the joy in her voice from completing something of this length was palpable.

  “It’s there, on the desk.” She grins, a note of pride dancing on her tongue. “Please, take your time. I really appreciate you coming, and if there’s anything I could do or bring you…”

  “I think I’ll be just fine. Is there anything in particular you want me to watch for? Or anything I need to know before I begin reading?”

  “Well it’s not done…not really” her eyes drop to the floor as a blush stains her cheeks “and it’s a little intense at times.”

  “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m not one to judge. This is your world; your creation. You should never feel the need to apologize for expressing yourself.”

  Smiling with relief, she walks from the room, beaming as she mumbles something beneath her breath.

  The door shuts with an inaudible sigh, and I’m left alone in the expansive, beautifully furnished office. The wind picks up, howling outside the large window behind the desk and causing the leaves and branches of the trees to scratch against the glass.

  Collapsing into the large, leather chair, I wiggle myself into a comfortable position; my fingers idly flipping through the stack of papers. I pull out my red pen, which always seems to become my make-shift hair fastener, and let my hair spill over my shoulder. My weapon of choice finds its mark against the neatly typed pages, weaving its way between letters, words and sentences without remorse. The sanguine ink bleeds across white flesh. Mark after mark soaks the page as it relentlessly seeks out each misspelling, fragmented sentence, run-on and missed punctuation.

  A soft cough interrupts my thoughts, though perhaps it’s been a bit longer than I originally thought.

  She wasn’t wearing that outfit earlier, was she?

  “You should wear your hair down more often.” She whispers from her place just inside of the door.

  I was so absorbed in my work that I hadn’t noticed her return till she spoke. She enters the room holding a small cup and saucer, and places it on the desk, then pulls an empty chair over and sits by my side, staring at me as I attempt to work.

  Does she expect me to continue with her here? Having someone constantly looking over my shoulder is unnerving.

  I place the pen down on the desk and sip at the tea she’s brought, but I can’t seem to refocus my thoughts on the story. She looks stunning, and a deep hunger pulls at my thoughts, dragging them into darker shadows.

  “Thank you for the tea.” I stutter, struggling to catch my pen as it launches an escape from the desk.

  “I just went to straighten up. I could’ve sworn I said something before I left. Anyway, dinner is done, and I was hoping you would join me. Have you eaten yet?”

  “No, I haven’t.” An embarrassing growl originates from somewhere deep in the pit of my stomach, and my cheeks blush immediately. I wish I could control that.

  Standing up, I twist my hair and refasten it with my pen. How long had I been wrapped up in her story, that she was able to come back transformed into such an exquisite being?

  Her hair flows down her back like the trail of blood tinged oil on the surface of water, and each movement of her lithe body is so fluid, it’s unnatural. Her eyes glow from within with a glint of playful mischief that I must’ve missed before; just visible behind a feigned innocence. Her lips are almost as red as the highlights in her hair, juxtaposed against her pale skin.

  She’s come back to me dressed in a dark green silk shirt that shimmers gold when she moves, and is just thin enough to hint at the pattern of her bra. A stiff black skirt stops just above her knees, and upon her feet are simple pale gold heels.

  I hope she didn’t go through the trouble of changing just for me.

  “Will anyone else be joining us?” I ask, hiding the intimidation brought on by her change of clothes. I’m wearing a pair of jeans and a black cotton tank top, and feel completely underdressed.

  “No, it’s just us for the evening. I hope that’s okay.”

  She flashes a wicked smile and walks from the office, and I’m left questioning her motives for calling me here. Why the sudden change of clothes? Was her reason for calling me here really just to look over this manuscript, or did she have something else in mind.

  She leads me toward the dining room with her head held high and her back straight and stiff. She has become a completely different being, as if the girl I met at the door, and this new one, were two separate entities.

  The hallway leading to the dining area is just as simple and elegant as the office. There are windows on either side that kiss the floor, and reach their fingers to the ceiling. They were thrown open as the day cooled, allowing the howling wind outside to force its way indoors, creating a wind tunnel throughout the small space.

  One side of the hallway gave a view to the inner courtyard, which was littered with flowers of all colors and several stone benches. On the other side, the glass faced a wrought iron fence, and a pristine lawn within its bounds that hugged against the walls of the house; creeping up its sides with tendrils of green vines that stretched up the sides in an effort to reach the heavens.

  The dining room opens up before us, yawning like a monster waiting to swallow us whole. It’s an imposing room, with a ceiling so tall that the light of the fireplace is too fearful to prod its depths. It’s sparsely decorated, consisting only of a large, artfully distressed wooden table with six chairs, and an imposing fireplace that occupies the opposite wall. The fireplace cuts an impressive figure with its white face and dark oak mantle. It’s so large, in fact, that if I were to hunch my shoulders and duck my head, I could walk right into it.

  A blazing fire crackles within its maw, filling the room with the warm light from its flames.

  I pull out a chair opposite to Ann. Her green eyes focus on me, a reflection of the flames dancing within them. She smiles with one corner of her mouth, and pours red wine into the glass before me.

  “So, it seems like you’ve gotten through the first bit of my story. What do you think?”

  Don’t others normally start dinner conversations with useless dribble such as ‘How was your day?’ and ‘How are things going?’ All the better, I suppose. No one really cares about the answers to such broad questions anyhow.

  Delicately holding the wine glass by its stem, I draw it to my lips, inadvertently swallowing more than I intended. It’s strong, and the scent of fermented grapes assaults my nose as mixtures of sweet, cherry notes wash over my tongue. It hits me instantly, and every inch of my body flushes and tingles, as if Zeus himself electrified every cell with a single snap of his fingers.

  “Well, it’s really not that bad…” I murmur, as I take another sip for courage. I wasn’t too fond of what she wrote, but it may just be my personal preference. I’m really not the best person to do this for her.

  “Not bad? When someone reads something and says it’s not bad, it means they’re too polite to admit that it’s awful.” She laughs, and it’s like listening to wind chimes dancing in the breeze on a warm summer day. She’s always been one to speak her mind.

  “No, not at all. It’s really not bad. There are just a few things that should be addressed, from the small bit I was able to read.”

  “Such as?”

  “Little things, such as the few grammatical errors I have found, and I’m not overly fond of you using the name of your story to refer to your main character over and over again. I’
m sure it could be worked in there somehow, but I think what you’ve done is excessive. I’ve marked everything out on the pages for you to review whenever you get around to it.”

  She smiles, visibly pleased by my response then drains her glass of wine in one movement, which is quite out of character. Her eyes begin to gloss over as she sighs heavily and looks over into the dancing flames of the fireplace.

  “Well, thank you for coming here. I really love seeing you, and it was a nice distraction for me. It’s been a bit of a long day, and it gets lonely in this house when I’m left on my own. You know, it’s been so long since we’ve hung out. We really should make this a regular thing.”

  She turns back to me, a grin twisting into her lips like a snake, replacing the worried look that had been so clear on her face just moments before. The alcohol is beginning to take hold of her. She drifts into a near dazed state, and giggles happily for no apparent reason.

  After one drink? What a light weight.

  Leaning over the table with a mischievous grin, she brushes her fingertips lightly over my hand.

  “You know,” she moans, her voice soft and sultry “I could use a bit more hands-on experience for my story. For the sake of research, of course.”

  Her red lips slice through my chest, drawing that ever-present ache of desire to the surface. My blood rushes through me, no doubt displaying the hints of blushing cheeks to my new found predator.

  “Of course…” I return, as I draw my hand away reluctantly. “I wish I could help with that. I’m sure there are a lot of online resources…”

  The look in her eye clearly states her intentions, and the fire flickers as if to solidify the fact that she has no desire to back down without a fight.

  “I find online resources to be lacking a certain…intimacy.”

  “Well yes, but very rarely is research intimate.” I cough, embarrassed, and take another sip of wine, which probably wasn’t the best idea given my current circumstances. “It’s getting a bit late, isn’t it? I really should be going. I have a lot of work to finish up before bed, and I really don’t need Angela chewing my head off for being late with yet another article.”

  Standing from the table, I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek to clear my thoughts from the effects of the wine, and Ann’s lust-filled eyes.

  “I don’t think you’re in any condition to drive, Cass…”

  “My hotel is just a few blocks down the road, and I’ve had one drink. I’m sure I can handle myself, Ann, but thank you for your concern. I really shouldn’t neglect my work…”

  Displeasure flashes across her face, then sadness. I know she’s lonely, but I can’t be the one to help her. I can’t mix myself up with her for the sake of quick satisfaction. I swore to myself…I can’t give in to such temptations, especially not with someone I know.

  She looks up and stares into my eyes as she moves closer, desire mixed with the scent of wine streaming from her lips.

  “I have a spare room…”

  “Ann, I’d love to but…”

  “…then you could finish reading over it in the morning.”

  “I really should go. I need to. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t want to impose, and really…my work. It can’t wait until morning. I don’t have my laptop here or anything, and all my work is in my room. I promise, if I don’t make it back here tomorrow, you can email me the rest and I’ll try and take care of it.”

  “Oh, alright…” she sighs, crestfallen.

  She manages to crack a small smile, and I’m glad for it. I’d hate for her lapse of inhibitions to cause a tension in our relationship. As much as my body may want to, mixing ourselves up in something like that would be devastating. I’d have to cut her off afterwards in order to maintain my sanity, and I cherish the relationship we have too much to risk that on a whim.

  I walk back toward the office to grab my keys from the desk, and let her show me to the door.

  “Thanks again for dinner. It was wonderful.”

  “Yeah, sorry you couldn’t stay for dessert.” She mumbles beneath her breath, then catches my eye with a horrified look on her face.

  “I mean, pie! I made pie…” she coughs, shifting her weight uncomfortably. “Perhaps another time.”

  We bid farewell then the doors close, and I’m left alone on the quiet street. The daylight has all but faded, the sun relinquishing its’ throne to overcast clouds that jealously shield the moon from view.

  I relish in the night air as it washes through me, and aids in suppressing the throbbing desire in my body, even if it’s only a temporary relief. It feels good to be out in the night with the whisper of the wind playing over my skin. Being inside with Ann was beginning to make me feel a bit claustrophobic, and the heat from my body was becoming unbearable.

  Slipping behind the wheel, I make my way to my hotel with the memory of her lips haunting my thoughts.

  Chapter 4

  Entering the front doors of the hotel, the light from the lobby envelopes me in its golden glow. Every surface serves only to accentuate the light spilling from the oversized pendant lamps, which dangle precariously from thin steel strands that cascade down from the ceiling.

  I feel out of place immediately, standing there with no make-up and my hair tangled from the harsh winds that I braved just moments before.

  With a deep breath, I slip through the lobby amidst the disapproving side glances of the more elegantly dressed, and catch the elevator to head to my room on the fifth floor. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I begin thumbing through the contact list as another guest slips through the doors just before they close. I don’t bother to look up, choosing instead, to concentrate on finding an evening lover to help with my flustered state.

  “That was a close one!”

  His voice is right in front of me, filling my ears like the deep rumbling of a dragon. The gentle, abysmal tones resonate to my core, and does nothing to quiet the desire clawing at my insides.

  “What was?”

  I try on a tone of nonchalance in an attempt to hide any tremble in my voice. I can feel his eyes on me, taking me in as if he were the mythical creature itself, and I was his prey. Glancing down past my phone, I catch my reflection in his polished black shoes. I look so much worse than I original thought. How embarrassing!

  “The door to the lift. It nearly ripped my foot off!”

  I roll my eyes. What a drama queen.

  “Ah. Well it’s a good thing it didn’t. How would you walk?” I mutter, my finger sliding over the screen. What do I feel like tonight? Hm…

  “I imagine I’d resign to hopping around from place to place on one leg; almost like a bunny.” He sighs, dejectedly.

  The ridiculous thought of this man with the deep, growling voice of something ancient and terrifying, growing fluffy ears and hopping around is too much for me to bear. Damn my overly active imagination.

  Within seconds, the elevator fills with my poorly stifled giggles.

  Glancing over my elevator companion, he’s dressed in a dark brown pinstripe suit, a powder blue collared shirt, and a dark, chocolate colored silk tie. He looks to be in his mid to late 30’s, but his face seems older, worn harsh by the years. Worry lines converge on the corners of his eyes that deepen with his laughter.

  Glistening eyes hold a boyish, playful light that swims along the ebb and flow of the blues and greens held within their depths. His dark hair is slicked back, and matches the color of his shoes. Parted on the side, it flows with the hint of delicate waves and curls restrained by hair product.

  “Ah, so the mobile isn’t glued to your hand after all. I had feared a trip to the emergency room would be in order for you.” He grins.

  His beautiful, hypnotic eyes paired with his silken voice, are enough to leave me staggering for breath. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss. I’m Ethan. And what may I call you?”

  I shuffle through my thoughts; where have I heard that name before? It sounds so familiar, but I’m certain I’ve never seen h
im. I would’ve remembered a voice like that.

  He holds out his hand expectantly, and I place my hand in his. Lifting my hand to his lips, he places a delicate kiss on the top, his eyes never leaving mine. His lips are soft and warm, and my skin prickles with goose bumps as a chill rushes through me from head to toe. As I reluctantly pull my hand back, I can still feel the remnants of his kiss.

  “Are you always this suave with the ladies?” I ask amidst a chuckle.

  “Only the pretty ones.” He smirks

  Oh, so he must be blind. I’m standing here, vaguely resembling a troll, and he’s seen fit to refer to me as pretty.

  “I’m Cass.”

  The elevator stops and the doors slide open onto the fifth floor. I move past him with a polite smile, and step across the threshold onto the plush, royal blue carpet.

  “It was a pleasure to cross your path, Miss Cass. Are you staying in the area long?”

  “Just the weekend.”

  “Well, I do hope our paths cross again.”

  He flourishes his hand and bows low as I leave, with an air that makes it seem as if he was born a few centuries too late. Blushing with the memory of his lips on my hand, and a flutter in my heart, I walk to my room.

  Chapter 5

  The room is lavishly furnished, and looks out on to the river. If I’m going to spend a weekend in this city, I’m glad it’s in a nice room. The carpet inside matches the hallway, and feels harsh beneath my bare feet. The bed is dressed in champagne colored satin sheets and cradles my body within a cloud as I sprawl out on its surface.

  Gliding my fingers over the code to unlock my phone, I begin swiping through my list of potential guests. They’re meticulously categorized into their height, eye color, hair color, body type, location and a list of their fantasies. Matching up what I want for the night with a candidate who can complement that, is important, and will ensure enjoyment for both of us. Now it’s all just a matter of finding what it is I want.