Enticed (Dark Passions) Read online

  His hands sunk into the flesh of my ass, and then he hoisted me up with his strong arms, and held me against the wall. I wrapped my arms around his neck and stared into his wild, hungry eyes. He groaned, and then with a thrust of his hips, he was inside me, his cock filling me, caressing me with long, luxurious strokes. I felt my sex clench and quiver around him, pulling him deeper; he quickened his pace, pushing and pulling furiously, creating sweet bursts of delight throughout my body, and building a deep undercurrent of glorious tension that made me pant and strain and writhe in yearning for that ultimate, explosive release. “You’re mine, Melanie,” he whispered in my ear, and that sent me over the edge; I cried out and my whole body started to quiver with intense, dizzying ecstasy. And he was right there with me, grunting and groaning, his muscles trembling, as the wildest of pleasures tore through his frame. He held me for a long moment, and when our eyes met again, his were soft.

  “Remember this feeling Mel,” he said. “And then look me in the eye and tell me it doesn’t feel right.” He pulled out from inside me, and placed me almost gingerly on the ground. Then he smoothed down my skirt, and brushed my hair behind my ear. “Just think about this, what this feels like, and then come by my place tomorrow night and tell me what you’ve decided,” he said, pulling up his pants.

  Then he gave me a long wistful look and left.

  ***

  After Bradley left, I realized I needed a good friend to talk things over with, so I called Jen. She lived a few blocks away, and half an hour after hanging up with her, she was on my doorstep with a bottle of wine.

  “Okay, spill it, girl,” she said settling onto my couch.

  I told her everything, minus the weird time traveling stuff with the paintings.

  She gave me an exaggeratedly confused look and said, “So let me get this straight. He’s brilliant, he can practically read your mind, he’s amazing in bed, and he wants to take you away for a week. What exactly is the problem again?”

  “I just started this job,” I said, taking a small sip of my wine. “I can’t just pick up and leave for a week before I’ve barely even gotten started.”

  “Sure you can,” Jen said. “It’s just a week. Tell them you have a family matter that needs attending to. Five work days, Mel.”

  I shook my head. “But it’s reckless,” I said. “Or at least totally irresponsible.”

  Jen let out a small laugh. “Get over yourself, Miss Workaholic. Reckless? Really? It’s not like the place is going to fall apart with you gone for a few days. Just do it. You just dealt with the Stephen thing. Now it’s time to make a clean break and clear your head.” Then she smiled wickedly at me and said, “Not to mention undergo a sexual reawakening.”

  I smiled at her and gave her a big hug. “Thanks, Jen. You’re the best.”

  “Don’t you know it,” she said, and we both laughed.

  ***

  The next day, I woke up feeling impulsive and flamboyant. I went into the back of my closet and pulled out a pair of mauve snakeskin print pants and a black velvet blazer that I had purchased on a whim, but had never worn. I’d told myself that they represented the old me, the wild me that I’d buried long ago, but I could never quite get myself to throw them out. I completed the outfit with a pair of mauve and black funky Mary Janes I’d purchased from Fluevogs.

  The moment Sarah saw me, her jaw dropped. “What happened to corporate Mel?” she asked, giving me a strange look. Then she frowned exaggeratedly and said, “Looks like I’ve got some new competition in the outrageous department.”

  I laughed and said, “You better believe it.”

  The first thing I did was make an appointment to see my boss. When I strode into his office later that morning, he did a double take, but then immediately resumed a neutral expression. I told him I needed some time off immediately to attend to a family matter. He gave me a serious look, pressed his lips together in thought, but then his face lightened up as he told me there were no urgent deadlines coming up this week, so, strangely enough, I couldn’t have picked a better time to take a leave.

  I left his office feeling both relieved and thrilled. I was actually going to do this. I was going to take off with Bradley. That afternoon I found myself on a cobblestoned street in Soho, clicking along excitement.

  “I’m ready,” I said, feeling a bit breathless. I could sense him smiling over the phone.

  “I’m so glad,” he said, his voice full of unrestrained delight. “Come on up.”

  ***

  “So how does this work?” I asked, snuggling up beside him on a couch in his library. The walls were mahogany paneled, and in front of us was a painting of a woman lounging in her lace underwear on a cream colored chaise longue, looking out of the window of a sundrenched room. I took in the 70s style bed, the gold and orange décor, and immediately recognized the place.

  “That’s the Chelsea Hotel,” I said excitedly.

  “Yes,” Bradley said. “It is. Now I want you to imagine yourself as that woman. Picture everything she might be feeling, thinking, seeing. I want you to get lost in her world.”

  I looked at him curiously and asked, “and then what?”

  His rang his fingers along my arm and gave me a mysterious smile. “You’ll see,” he said.

  For a moment, I sat there in silence and imagined myself running my hand along the soft upholstery of the chaise longue, feeling the sun warm my skin, waiting there in my lingerie for Bradley to come rock my world. And then it happened. My head started spinning, and my vision blurred. When it finally cleared, I found myself in black lace underwear, sprawled out on a chaise longue. In the Chelsea Hotel. With the sunlight streaming in through the window.

  There was a black lace dress on the four poster bed, along with a faux fur shrug, a shoe box and an envelope.

  I walked over and picked up the envelope. It had my name written on it. With trembling hands, I ripped it open.

  Put on the dress etc and come meet me in the lobby.

  Bradley

  I did as instructed, and then took a good look at myself in a gold-framed oval mirror. The lace dress was skin tight and hugged all of my curves; my pale skin was visible between the intricate frills and designs of the lace. The knee high black leather stiletto boots I found in the box were the perfect size and gleamed in the light. The faux fur shawl added a touch of elegance and class to an otherwise over-the-top sexy outfit.

  When I came out of the elevator into the lobby, I was struck by how quiet the place was. I looked around. There were a few people sitting about, chatting or reading, but otherwise the place was empty. Then I saw him. Bradley was lounging on a leather couch, dressed in black tie, in an animated conversation with a dapperly dressed man with a shock of thick unnaturally white hair. As I approached them, Bradley turned towards me, and his eyes caressed my body. Our eyes locked for a moment, and then I turned my gaze towards his companion. And my heart stopped. Andy Warhol. He gave me a mega-watt smile full of brilliant white teeth, and with his eyes twinkling with delight, he stretched out his hand for me, and I took it. His grasp was firm and warm.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Melanie,” he said, in a smooth but animated voice. He held his arm out as a link for mine. “The cameras are all set up,” he said. I looked at him in confusion.

  “Cameras?” I asked.

  He smiled warmly at me. “Yes, my dear. I’m doing a photo shoot of you and Bradley. You really do make such a beautiful pair. Now, come. Let’s do this. Everyone deserves their 15 minutes.”

  Bradley sidled up to me and whispered in my ear. “I told you I was going to take you on an adventure.”

  I looked at him in awe. He grinned at me and said. “And baby, this is just the beginning.”