Page 26 of Malevolent Secrets

What have I just done?

It is one thing to convince myself that I have to use my body to get close to Lorenzo. I can justify my actions to that end. It is another thing to convince myself that when he touches me, I only endure it.

But here, in the quiet loneliness of my house, my lies unmask themselves, baring their faces to me in a way that is so undeniable it makes me nauseous.

Jeremy hasn’t even been dead for a month and here I am, touching myself with thoughts of another man. Tears sting my eyes and I wrap my arms tightly around myself.

Jeremy wouldn’t want me to be sad about his death for the rest of my life, I knew that much. But would he really be all right with me lusting after the man who might have killed him?

***

“Back again so soon?”

I look at the bartender I met the first time I came to the Garden of Eden with a sideways glance. My head has been on a swivel, trying to catch sight of Lorenzo, ever since I stepped into the club.

“I like it here,” I say to her with a shrug. “So sue me.”

She laughs and I turn my head to look at her again. I find myself smiling in spite of my distraction.

“I should hold myself accountable for continuing to work here, I guess,” she admits. “Same as before?”

“I want whatever that magical thing was that Lorenzo…” saying his name aloud feels so dangerous that I feel a shiver run over my skin, “…ordered for me last time.”

“Coming right up,” she says agreeably, turning away to make me my drink.

I watch her working, my brain distracted by thoughts about Jeremy, and what Lorenzo might have to do with his “accident”. I’m starting to lose the thread of the reason that I came here the first time for. Everything is being overwhelmed by my desire for Lorenzo.

“Tesoro.”

I whip around at the sound of the velvety voice just over my shoulder. It’s Lorenzo, looking too handsome to be real in a black suit. The red pocket square tucked into the pocket of his suit isn’t noticeable enough to overwhelm the brilliant grey of his eyes.

I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry.

“Here’s your drink,” the bartender says to me. I reach for it over my shoulder blindly, my eyes trained on Lorenzo.

“Bring your drink with you,” he says to me, curling his fingers through mine. I love this slightly sweet, childish way he has of holding hands. It makes him feel like a real person to me, not a dangerous predatory threat that goes by the moniker of the Ghost.

I follow after him, being cautious not to spill my drink as we navigate across the busy dance floor. He tugs me after him into a dark hallway. As the door falls shut behind us, the thumping bass of the music quiets dramatically. I can hear the tapping of my heels on the floor and the clicking of his dress shoes as he walks ahead of me.

He’s so large that he fills up the hallway. I reflect that two of me could fit behind him. He isn’t a thickly muscled man, but despite being lean and elegant, he is quite strong and broad-shouldered. I love the contrast of his elegant silhouette combined with his clear strength. He’s full of competing characteristics, a man full of complexities and surprises.

He draws me into a room to our right and then tugs the door shut behind us. He locks it, and then turns to me. I realize I’m breathing rapidly as he lifts the drink out of my hand and places it on a nearby desk. The only light in the room is coming from the exit sign above our heads.

“Tesoro,” he says to me, his voice very soft. I have to strain to hear him. His fingers come up to lift my chin and when I meet his light grey eyes, they are communicating so much heat that I feel warmed as if by the sun. “You came to see me,” he says, as if this surprises him.

“I missed you,” I said, and it isn’t a lie. I reach down and cup his hardness, causing him to suck a breath in through his teeth. “And I missed this.”

He grins at me, before dipping his head to kiss me. I can’t explain why his kisses affect me so much. It feels like I’ve never been kissed before every time he brings his lips down on mine. Just the press of his lips on mine is so electric that I feel weak in the knees.

The kiss deepens, turning into a frenzied clash of lips and teeth as we struggle out of our clothes. I hear the sound of a seam ripping as he shoves my dress down my body, but I don’t care. I can buy a new dress.

Lorenzo presses me backward until I’m fetch up against a slick, cool wall. I glance behind me to see that my bare ass is pressed against a wall of windows that look down over the dancefloor.

We’re high enough up that it’s not likely that anyone will see us, but the thought of being exposed to everyone in the club is somehow intoxicating.

“Can they…” I start to ask, panting a little.

“See us?” he asks before dropping little nipping kisses down the column of my throat. “Yes, but no one ever looks up here. Does it bother you?” he inquires, stroking his long fingers through my wetness. “Thinking that they will see you with me?”

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