Knight
Page 2
Not me.
So I was wearing a pair of high-heeled sandals I bought two years ago. They were cute, even, I thought, sexy but they were cheap, not even real leather. I’d taken care of them but still, they looked what they were. Same with my dress. TJ Maxx and not even a way out of season designer, just a no name. I thought it was pretty, it showed just enough skin, not too much, it fit like a glove and it was the perfect color for me but it wasn’t silk, satin or labeled. It was polyester and even at TJ Maxx I bought it on sale.
And the eyes came to me, moving up and down, lips curling, noses scrunching, eyes rolling.
This was the girls.
The guys, eyes right to my br**sts, h*ps or legs. At this point of the evening, they didn’t care if they banged class or someone who thought they could buy it. They just wanted to bang anything and would take what they could get.
Sandrine had headed out to the balcony about half an hour ago with Nick. She’d not returned so this was my destination. Therefore, my journey was a long one, weaving through bodies, avoiding crossed legs or stepping over straightened ones of those sitting on couches, feeling gazes following me the entire way.
It seemed to last an hour but probably lasted around two minutes.
Then I was through the glass door and outside.
It felt good out there, cold but good. No smoke, the stuffiness of too many bodies in a space gone, I allowed myself a moment to drink it in.
Then I looked around.
A couple to the right in a clinch. Not Sandrine.
I turned my head left and nearly at the corner of the balcony I saw Nick had Sandrine against the floor to ceiling window. They were also in a clinch.
Ugh.
I clicked over in my inexpensive (but cute) sandals and when I got somewhat close called, “Uh… sorry to disturb.”
Nick’s head came up and both of their eyes came to me. Otherwise, they didn’t move a muscle.
Nick’s eyes dropped to my br**sts.
Sandrine’s eyes widened in a clear but nonverbal, “What the f**k are you doing here?” She finally had him where she’d wanted him for a long while and she wasn’t happy to be disturbed.
“Again, sorry,” I said quietly when I got close and looked to Sandrine. “Honey, I need to go home.”
“Okay,” she replied immediately.“Text you tomorrow.”
I blinked.
We had a pact, never leave a man behind. Not to mention, we’d shared a taxi and since we were sharing one back and she’d driven to my house that meant such a treat was affordable.
“Um… but –” I started.
“I’m good,” she cut me off. “Nick can take me home when I go home.” Her head turned to Nick. “Right, Nick?”
He didn’t move his eyes from my br**sts for a moment before they drifted lazily to my face.
“Why are you leaving?” he asked and I stared at him.
What did he care?
“Well, it’s getting late and –” I began to explain.
He interrupted with, “Stay.”
“Pardon?” I asked.
“Stay,” he repeated then a grin spread on his face that I did not like, not that I liked much about Nick, as in nothing. His head turned to Sandrine who he still had pinned to the windows then back to me and in a low voice with unmistakable meaning, he said softly, “The three of us, we’ll have a party.”
I blinked again even as I stiffened and saw Sandrine doing the same.
Then I stated firmly, “No, actually, I need to go home which is where I’m going.” I looked to my friend. “Sandrine?”
She looked miffed, not a little, a lot.
At me.
God, Sandrine.
Then she looked at Nick and announced, “I don’t do three-ways. It’s just me or nothing.”
He looked at me. “You uptight like that?” he asked.
See? Jerk!
“Absolutely,” I answered.
“Shame,” he muttered then, still looking at me, “Though, figure, just you’d be enough.”
Seriously?
“Seriously?” This came sharp and from Sandrine.
Told you Nick was a jerk and something else and whatever that something else was, was not good.
“Right, if that’s the gig then whoever’s stayin’ stays and whoever’s leavin’ leaves,” Nick went on and he did this eyes on Sandrine, who he had pinned to the windows but somehow, and it wasn’t lost on Sandrine or me, he was insinuating it was her he wanted to leave.
God, I hoped this opened her eyes to this dirtbag.
I should have known better. Those eyes came to me and she said, “I’ll text you tomorrow.”
God, somehow, some way I needed to get her to snap out of it. I wished Viv was here with me. She’d lay it out. Then again, she had, more often and with less gentleness than me and Sandrine never listened to her either.
“Sandrine –”
“Anya, honey, I’ll text you tomorrow.”
She was getting impatient. She was also living firm in the mistaken knowledge that her beauty (and she was beautiful), her style (ditto with the style, she had it in spades) and her abilities between the sheets (I had no idea about that one, though, according to her, she was fabulous) would twine Nick Sebring close and he wouldn’t want to break free.
“Sandrine, I’m not comfor –” I started yet again.
“Anya,” she cut me off again. “I’ll… text… you… tomorrow.” Then she gave big eyes to Nick who was looking at me and didn’t notice. These eyes indicated that I was missing the fact she had her golden goose in her snare and I needed to vamoose, and pronto, so she could work her magic.
I didn’t like this. You didn’t leave a man behind but you really didn’t leave a man behind with Nick Sebring.
But other than drag her kicking and screaming out of the apartment, down fifteen floors and into a taxi, I didn’t know what to do.
So I muttered, “Tomorrow.”
She grinned at me.
I frowned at her and tried to communicate seven thousand words about Nick being a jerk with my eyes. But she just turned back to him, lifted her hand to his cheek and turned his face to her.
Really, Vivica was right. Sandrine was living in a fantasy world. She’d had a Daddy who treated her like she was precious, told her she was beyond beautiful and spoiled her rotten. Then she’d had a high school boyfriend who did the same. Then in college, another boyfriend, the same. From birth to twenty-two, she’d had the golden life gliding on her beauty and feminine wiles. She hadn’t cottoned onto the fact that, after leaving college five years ago, she’d entered the jungle. And further, the particular jungle she chose to hunt in had bigger, more ferocious predators even after a number of them had already chewed her up and spit her out.
So I was wearing a pair of high-heeled sandals I bought two years ago. They were cute, even, I thought, sexy but they were cheap, not even real leather. I’d taken care of them but still, they looked what they were. Same with my dress. TJ Maxx and not even a way out of season designer, just a no name. I thought it was pretty, it showed just enough skin, not too much, it fit like a glove and it was the perfect color for me but it wasn’t silk, satin or labeled. It was polyester and even at TJ Maxx I bought it on sale.
And the eyes came to me, moving up and down, lips curling, noses scrunching, eyes rolling.
This was the girls.
The guys, eyes right to my br**sts, h*ps or legs. At this point of the evening, they didn’t care if they banged class or someone who thought they could buy it. They just wanted to bang anything and would take what they could get.
Sandrine had headed out to the balcony about half an hour ago with Nick. She’d not returned so this was my destination. Therefore, my journey was a long one, weaving through bodies, avoiding crossed legs or stepping over straightened ones of those sitting on couches, feeling gazes following me the entire way.
It seemed to last an hour but probably lasted around two minutes.
Then I was through the glass door and outside.
It felt good out there, cold but good. No smoke, the stuffiness of too many bodies in a space gone, I allowed myself a moment to drink it in.
Then I looked around.
A couple to the right in a clinch. Not Sandrine.
I turned my head left and nearly at the corner of the balcony I saw Nick had Sandrine against the floor to ceiling window. They were also in a clinch.
Ugh.
I clicked over in my inexpensive (but cute) sandals and when I got somewhat close called, “Uh… sorry to disturb.”
Nick’s head came up and both of their eyes came to me. Otherwise, they didn’t move a muscle.
Nick’s eyes dropped to my br**sts.
Sandrine’s eyes widened in a clear but nonverbal, “What the f**k are you doing here?” She finally had him where she’d wanted him for a long while and she wasn’t happy to be disturbed.
“Again, sorry,” I said quietly when I got close and looked to Sandrine. “Honey, I need to go home.”
“Okay,” she replied immediately.“Text you tomorrow.”
I blinked.
We had a pact, never leave a man behind. Not to mention, we’d shared a taxi and since we were sharing one back and she’d driven to my house that meant such a treat was affordable.
“Um… but –” I started.
“I’m good,” she cut me off. “Nick can take me home when I go home.” Her head turned to Nick. “Right, Nick?”
He didn’t move his eyes from my br**sts for a moment before they drifted lazily to my face.
“Why are you leaving?” he asked and I stared at him.
What did he care?
“Well, it’s getting late and –” I began to explain.
He interrupted with, “Stay.”
“Pardon?” I asked.
“Stay,” he repeated then a grin spread on his face that I did not like, not that I liked much about Nick, as in nothing. His head turned to Sandrine who he still had pinned to the windows then back to me and in a low voice with unmistakable meaning, he said softly, “The three of us, we’ll have a party.”
I blinked again even as I stiffened and saw Sandrine doing the same.
Then I stated firmly, “No, actually, I need to go home which is where I’m going.” I looked to my friend. “Sandrine?”
She looked miffed, not a little, a lot.
At me.
God, Sandrine.
Then she looked at Nick and announced, “I don’t do three-ways. It’s just me or nothing.”
He looked at me. “You uptight like that?” he asked.
See? Jerk!
“Absolutely,” I answered.
“Shame,” he muttered then, still looking at me, “Though, figure, just you’d be enough.”
Seriously?
“Seriously?” This came sharp and from Sandrine.
Told you Nick was a jerk and something else and whatever that something else was, was not good.
“Right, if that’s the gig then whoever’s stayin’ stays and whoever’s leavin’ leaves,” Nick went on and he did this eyes on Sandrine, who he had pinned to the windows but somehow, and it wasn’t lost on Sandrine or me, he was insinuating it was her he wanted to leave.
God, I hoped this opened her eyes to this dirtbag.
I should have known better. Those eyes came to me and she said, “I’ll text you tomorrow.”
God, somehow, some way I needed to get her to snap out of it. I wished Viv was here with me. She’d lay it out. Then again, she had, more often and with less gentleness than me and Sandrine never listened to her either.
“Sandrine –”
“Anya, honey, I’ll text you tomorrow.”
She was getting impatient. She was also living firm in the mistaken knowledge that her beauty (and she was beautiful), her style (ditto with the style, she had it in spades) and her abilities between the sheets (I had no idea about that one, though, according to her, she was fabulous) would twine Nick Sebring close and he wouldn’t want to break free.
“Sandrine, I’m not comfor –” I started yet again.
“Anya,” she cut me off again. “I’ll… text… you… tomorrow.” Then she gave big eyes to Nick who was looking at me and didn’t notice. These eyes indicated that I was missing the fact she had her golden goose in her snare and I needed to vamoose, and pronto, so she could work her magic.
I didn’t like this. You didn’t leave a man behind but you really didn’t leave a man behind with Nick Sebring.
But other than drag her kicking and screaming out of the apartment, down fifteen floors and into a taxi, I didn’t know what to do.
So I muttered, “Tomorrow.”
She grinned at me.
I frowned at her and tried to communicate seven thousand words about Nick being a jerk with my eyes. But she just turned back to him, lifted her hand to his cheek and turned his face to her.
Really, Vivica was right. Sandrine was living in a fantasy world. She’d had a Daddy who treated her like she was precious, told her she was beyond beautiful and spoiled her rotten. Then she’d had a high school boyfriend who did the same. Then in college, another boyfriend, the same. From birth to twenty-two, she’d had the golden life gliding on her beauty and feminine wiles. She hadn’t cottoned onto the fact that, after leaving college five years ago, she’d entered the jungle. And further, the particular jungle she chose to hunt in had bigger, more ferocious predators even after a number of them had already chewed her up and spit her out.
