Page 56 of Tops
“Sit,” Colten commanded, sounding harsher than when Nik tried to scare off a few students and managed to wipe out the majority.
I took a seat, my body at least still in line with the obedience game. A low simmer of arousal made itself known with Colten’s simple order, reminding me that the ministrations of both Nik and Tanner were still in effect.
Confidence looked so good on Colten. My eyes were no longer scanning for Tanner. I watched the way Colten’s fingers deftly moved to unbutton his jacket before he took a seat next to me. As soon as he was settled, he gripped my wrist and pulled my hand to rest on his thigh.
I needed to be touching him whenever possible. Right.
Colten sat with his back straight, eyes narrowing while he surveyed the other guests. He did a circuit of the room before his gaze settled on me. This was the first time he noticed my outfit in proper lighting. My back straightened as I let him get his fill, the thin metal chains brushing against my skin while they jostled. His gaze was drawn to the movement, and he reached out his hand like a brush, determined to paint the exposed area.
“Mr. Black, I wasn’t sure you would be able to make it,” said a voice loudly.
As I adjusted my gaze to find the owner of the voice, I saw a handsome man with short, wavy brown hair standing on the other side of the floating table. His teeth were so perfect; they were unnerving. He wore a wide smile to ensure everyone in the world got a chance to see the perfection. His eyes slid from Colten over to me, coating me in a feeling like oil. Quickly, I flicked my gaze down to the table’s surface, hoping I hadn’t fucked up too badly. It still felt like a residual film from his gaze tainting my soul, and I had to fight against the urge to shiver.
“And who does this happen to be?” the man said, but I refused to look up at him again.
“This is Miss Harlow, and she belongs to me,” Colten said in a way that left no room for argument. My fingers squeezed his thigh. My way of saying thank you while I let my gaze fall lower. Maybe I could figure out how the fuck these tables were held up by the time the guy decided to leave.
“I take it your attendance means Mr. Ryland plans to discuss my proposal tonight?”
I let my feet swing freely, moving them around underneath the platform as I looked for anything to solve the mystery. The fluffed-up panels of my dress helped to hide my movements so no one would look over and wonder what the weird woman was doing.
“I was not told to bring any of those papers this evening, Mr. Sackler,” Colten said, his tone flat and cold. “Perhaps your time this evening will be better spent attempting to charm Mr. Ryland rather than someone else’s date.”
I was glad my head was tilted down because I could not stop the small smile that sneaked over my lips. Just in case, I pressed my lips together like I was fixing my makeup rather than cheering on my man’s verbal smack down.
“Evening, Mr. Black and Miss Harlow. It was a pleasure meeting you.” I knew the guy was talking to me, but I didn’t bother to raise my head until long after I watched his feet decide to turn and leave.
“You did well,” Colten whispered into my ear before giving me a quick kiss.
I couldn’t help but smile. I felt relieved that I hadn’t messed things up too badly and happy that I made Colten proud. My social expectation was to avoid direct eye contact and not talk to anyone other than Colten. Honestly, my anxiety was fine with that arrangement.
“Would you be interested in a drink, Miss Harlow?” Colten asked.
I nodded yes rather than replying out loud, unsure which was better. Just because I managed to survive one encounter didn’t mean I could afford to make any more mistakes.
“You may speak,” Colten said with a smile. He said it loud enough that out of the corner of my eyes, I saw a few people stop and turn my way. I had to fight back the blush of embarrassment by focusing on Colten. He was encouraging me to play a game with him tonight. All of this was just a temporary stroll through another walk of life. We were actors roleplaying, but my version was rated X.
“I would love a drink, sir,” I wasn’t sure if I should have called him Mr. Black, but something inside me determined a different word needed to come out instead.
Colten’s smile widened, and I could see the fantasies running through his mind, reflecting in his eyes as a wicked glint. They certainly did have a thing for being called sir. Colten signaled discreetly using the flick of a wrist, and a few minutes later, a waitress headed our way with two drinks on a tray. She didn’t speak when she arrived at the table, offering the tray before her while she looked down at the floor.
I hoped she was here because she wanted to be, and all of this was just a role play night out, but I would be stupid to believe that. She could just enjoy this kind of lifestyle. I had to take a deep breath on what I assumed was right or wrong.
Colten grabbed a glass with ice, full of a clear liquid. There were little dots of vibrant green floating near the top, ruining the otherwisemost refreshing glass of watervibes it was capable of. He set the drink on the suspended table, and while I knew nothing would happen, part of me waited for it to come crashing down. It even held strong after he grabbed the other drink from the tray and placed it in front of me.
Our cups were the same, but it was clear the contents were not. My drink didn’t have the floating bits of green because they seemed to have disintegrated, coloring the entire liquid a murky hue. I had the same amount of ice in my cup as Colten, but the contents of my glass looked like it was made from the remnants of someone else’s discarded drink. I tried my best to arch just one of my eyebrows, as Tanner so easily did. Still, despite my failure, Colten understood the message.
“This is a dirty martini. It’s salty,” he whispered, setting his arm on the top of my chair.
I eyed the diluted swamp water, knowing it would make a scene if I refused the drink. Normally, Hannah ordered me a vodka cranberry or a glass of white wine when we were out. She could drink anything. I was much less experienced with different kinds of alcohol.
I grabbed the glass off the table, resisting the childhood urge to raise my pinky like a mocking jackass before taking a small sip. It wasn’t sweet. The taste of olive brine and salt filled my mouth before the alcohol found its way down my throat. Part of me knew a drink like this was strong, but the salty taste made me thirsty for more.
I looked over at Colten, holding his drink in his hand. He looked more relaxed as he observed the other people moving from pocket to pocket, striking up conversations with other men in suits. Taking occasional slow sips of my drink, I watched the people moving around the room as I took to studying them. The world’s elite didn’t operate like the ant people of the streets of New York.
The powerful men of this room lived in a world above everyone else, but also parallel. Events like these were a normal occurrence of social expectations through shows of power. I remembered not to make direct eye contact as I lost myself in the fascination of breaking down the patterns of movements and standard length of a conversation.
The women of this world were even more fascinating to observe. They all obeyed the same kind of rules Colten explained, except one. Her dress wasn’t black, like many of the women in attendance. We black-dressed women didn’t engage in conversation and always had one hand on a man in a suit.
