"Great cases like hard cases make bad law." Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes
"People that are really very weird can get into sensitive positions and have a tremendous impact on history." Former Vice President Dan Quayle
Friday couldn't get here fast enough. Bonnie's enthusiasm was totally infectious, I found myself looking forward to the club opening just as much as she did. Namely it would be nice to see Vickie again, and it would be nice to get away for just a little bit. Who in their right mind could say no to a free limo ride to and from the club?
We had a fun trip to Dillard's after work the other day, giggling like sixteen-year-olds trying on dresses and accessories that we never could've afforded back then. I ended up buying a less-is-more Azzedine Alaia off-the-shoulder black sheath that cost what Mom sent to the bank every month for our house, that I planned on dressing up with some artsy handmade brass jewelry that I still had from college. Bonnie got a shocking pink and black Betsey Johnson bubble dress that was to die for, which I insisted on paying for. Maybe I could bill it to the firm as a compensation expense since I didn't think Klaus was paying her enough but he and Lexi took home huge bonuses last year.
The office was often dead on a Friday, it reminded me of those school days we'd have in late June to make up for snow days where we just sat around fanning ourselves doing pointless busy-work. Klaus was in court all day so it was just Lexi around, she gave me a suspicious glance when I said that Bonnie and I had to cut out of work early to do some "off-site investigation" to dig up dirt on the Salvatore and Pierce families.
By "off-site" I meant a trip to the salon, and by "investigation" it meant I drove while Bonnie searched Facebook, Twitter, and the like on her Sidekick.
I made a left turn onto the main business route and stopped at the light. Bonnie was still paging through something on a gossip website.
"Wow, Katherine's really going overboard with this whole 'he dumped my ass' sob story. TMZ is making her out to look really stupid." She clicked to another story. "This one speculates Stefan found another poor little rich girl to screw. Seriously, to me, it sounds like he just woke up one day and realized Katherine was a total bitch and he only put up with it because she's hot but it's just not worth it."
"It's also because her father has big bucks and enough pull in Congress to ensure the Salvatore empire and that old and new money alike stay rich," I added. "If she's a real daddy's girl like a bunch of those spoiled brats often are, I wonder if Daddy will retaliate...and those rich heirs are going to need to keep paying us to keep their assets safe from the Pierces."
"I think Lexi would've been a bit more forgiving about us ditching work early if she could hear that right now!"
Back at my house later that night, we got ourselves substantially dolled up in our hot new dresses and prestige makeup. Bonnie was right, it had been a long time since either of us got to do something really fun. And here I am, taking on a divorce that would definitely be thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands if Katherine dragged things out in court, while a former model invited me to a hot new club that wouldn't involve me driving around for half an hour trying to find a parking spot.
It would be a crime not to go all out.
Bonnie's phone started ringing so she picked it up. "The limo's here!"
We gathered up our impractical but oh so stylish night-out clutches and headed out the door, where a friendly-looking uniformed driver was waiting outside next to a tall black SUV stretch limo.
"Miss Forbes, Miss Bennett," he greeted with a big smile. "My name is George and I'll be your limo driver tonight. It'll be about an hour to seventy minutes from here to Newport News. " He opened the door for us, and it was one of those huge setups that looked like two seven-piece sectional couches put together around a small bar so one could actually stand up in there, with a TV in the back that looked big enough to be a fireplace with a substantial DVD and Blu-ray library.
"Honey, I think 'master of the fucking universe' was kind of an understatement," Bonnie mused in awe.
"Oh, and this is compliments of Ms. Donovan." George produced a brand-new bottle of Cristal that had pink and white party ribbons tied around it.
"Huh." Bonnie inspected the bottle and looked inside, where there was a fully-stocked bar and several glasses by the TV. The seats were upholstered in a soft-looking fabric with plenty of cushioning underneath. "Seriously, can you get more former models to sue for defamation? Please! I don't think I'll ever want to take a plane again, I just want to take this limo!"
George laughed. "Enjoy the ride, and please let me know if there's anything you need."
We plunked down into the huge seats that felt like sitting on a cloud. I could get used to this.
As George took us from Mystic Falls to Newport News, we found Twilight in the DVD collection and started talking back to the TV after the Cristal kicked in.
"Look," I said after I started feeling a little warm. "I like Twilight and all, but I'm sorry, it's just WAY too easy to make fun of. Come on! A guy who sparkles and refuses to have sex with you is not a vampire. It's a gay man!"
We busted out laughing, now it was Bonnie's turn to muse.
"You know, I used to think that spoiled little rich girls like Katherine Pierce and all those kids who go to that expensive prep school two towns over were just being whiny if they were going to lose their inheritance or their parents cut them off," she stopped to refill her glass. "But now I'm just slightly beginning to understand why they're so pissed off, I don't think I can turn back now that I've had a ride in this limo and am drinking a $150 bottle of champagne."
I laughed. "Bonnie, the reason why they bitch about their money being cut off is that they have no concept of what things are like for real people to make a living, pay bills, and the like. We do, that's the backgrounds we came from, but those people know nothing but money being no object." I swigged the rest of my Cristal. "This is a huge treat for us that I got for my hard work, it was a long battle against that bitchy actress and her publisher. I worked for this, spoiled heiress brats got this shit handed to them for doing nothing. Imagine how...un-special it must be for them." I giggled. "Un-special. That's like a Dubya saying."
"Dubya that," Bonnie giggled. "Now let's see if there's any more champagne."
Two Twilight commentaries and another bottle of premium champagne later, George informed us that we arrived at the club.
"Ladies, have a great night!"
"The ride was great. We'll ask for you when we have to get a ride back later!" Bonnie promised.
We exited the limo, and the sight before us was just plain incredible: The club was three stories tall, the exterior was painted dark blue and silver with 1920s-style playbill lettering on the sign. There were red ferns adorning the sides with neon lights in blue and red squiggling up the sides of the building. Three burly security guards wearing enough wire gear to practically be Secret Service agents were at the door, and a line of beautiful people was lined up for several yards, vying to get in.
"Wow," I whispered. "Bonnie, I'm so glad you talked me into this."
"I know!" she squealed. "Now let's show those people you're a master of the fucking universe."
I reached into my purse and produced my VIP pass, showed it to the guard, and he nodded. "If you and your guest would go inside to the left, security will take you to see Ms. Donovan. She asked us to send you to her as soon as you got here."
He clicked up the velvet rope and motioned us inside, much to the chagrin of the massive crowd of people behind the other cordon.
Bonnie and I looked at each other, trying not to squeal in excitement.
We didn't go directly to the main club area, we walked down a dark corridor where another security guard with a walkie-talkie was waiting for us. He motioned us to follow him up a set of stairs where he punched in a code for a private elevator. While we waited for the elevator, Bonnie and I observed the scene down below from the balcony.
It was almost totally dark save for the blue lighting elements everywhere. Loud dance music played, and there was a large stage for a live band though it wasn't currently in use. Three long bars adorned in blue, purple, and silver with those cool light-up displays behind all the top-shelf booze beckoned, I could see long lists of specialty cocktails that were easily $25 apiece. Judging by the lines of people waiting to buy drinks and the wads of cash sitting on the bar, I imagine most of the patrons were fine with this. The club was crowded enough that you could interact with many people, but not so crowded that the line to get in the bathroom was longer than the line for Metallica tickets.
All in all, Vickie's opening night and new club on the waterfront were a smash hit from what I could see.
The guard escorted us off the elevator and into a posh office that looked like something out of an interior design magazine, perfectly white walls, plush carpeting that looked and felt like marshmallows, and a white leather couch, with futuristic-looking silver lighting fixtures and a solid black oak desk.
"Ms. Donovan, Miss Forbes and Miss Bennett have arrived."
The fancy executive chair behind the oak desk swiveled around, and sure enough, there was Vickie Donovan, who broke out into a huge smile when she saw us.
"Thanks, that'll be all, Ralph." The guard went back to the elevator as Vickie got up from her desk to give us each bone-crushing hugs. She looked significantly heavier since the last time I saw her, but she was positively radiant. I was genuinely happy for her success and the joy she found in her new career, she looked miserable and on the brink of death when I was handling her defamation case.
"Caroline Forbes, how the fuck are you? So, what do you think of the new digs?"
Bonnie and I could barely contain ourselves and we gushed about how fabulous it was. "Vickie, this is totally amazing. I guess your other clubs must be doing really well if you were able to afford this. And the party downstairs looks totally happening, people are practically fighting to the death just to get in here. Congratulations!"
She waved her hand. "Please, what five million dollars buys in New York and Paris, is about twenty times bigger below the Mason-Dixon line! Virginia's the new hotspot for the exclusive nightclub scene and I wanted to snag this piece of prime real estate while the waterfront's still cheap. I know that Newport News is going to be worth billions!"
"Told you so!" Bonnie sing-songed to me. "This woman needs a fucking Facebook account, honestly."
"So listen, the reason I asked you up here is because I just wanted to tell you that you and your friends, you're not paying for anything here. Tonight, or ever."
"Really?" Bonnie squeaked.
"Yes, fuckette!" Vickie beamed. "Everything's on the house. Anything you need, don't be afraid to ask."
I was flabbergasted. "Wow Vickie. That's incredibly generous, but I can't. I gotta pay for at least one drink..."
"Nonsense, I won't hear of it!" she waved her arms. "Seriously, if it hadn't been for you, I would still be having six bumps of cocaine and four tablespoons of plain non-fat yogurt for breakfast every morning because someone at Harper's bitched that I had some semblance of hips in last month's Chanel spread. I also could've totally lost that case and my career would've been in the shitter had that book come out.
Now I'm making more real money than ever, I love my job, and no one gives a shit what size I'm wearing while doing so! Because if they did, I could fire their asses or deny them admission!"
"Hey, I can't argue with that."
"You're on the VIP list for life, doll. I owe my life to you and can never thank you enough for getting it back for me. This is the least I can do. So get your fabulous ass downstairs and enjoy the party."
"Will do, will do!"
"Oh and one more thing," Vickie called as we headed towards the elevator.
"Yeah?"
"Enjoy the VIP lounge! If you ladies plan on any action tonight, only the finest boys are allowed back there. My VIP bouncer, Hassan, has very discriminating taste." She winked.
"I'm already spoken for, but maybe we can find a nice guy for Caroline, Master of the Fucking Universe?" Bonnie giggled.
Then they said in unison, "Or a Mr. Wrong to just have some fun with!"
We got on the elevator and she held up my VIP pass. "Well, here's our ticket to the jungle. Let's make the most of it!"
The nicest thing about Vickie's hot new club was that it was an interesting crowd that was a lot of fun to observe. There were the glitterati, the wannabe glitterati, the guys who were corporate hotshots by day but total party animals by night, the professional women who just wanted to take younger men home then send them on their way, the men who could get laid for their bankrolls and not their looks, the poor little rich girls and the men who bought them jewelry.
The drinks were out of this world, and our bar tab would've easily been hundreds of dollars if it hadn't been for Vickie comping us. Have you ever had an organic blue agave margarita? No? YOU HAVE TO TRY ONE.
I was on my fourth organic agave margarita, and after all that champagne in the limo, I was starting to feel pretty good now. Bonnie and I danced until our feet were killing us, we danced with some charming stockbrokers who bought us drinks, and with some high society girls giggling about how they gave blowjobs to the said stockbrokers in the last bathroom stall on the left because chances were there was a Cartier bracelet in it for at least one of them. We made a mental note not to use that stall.
Several guys tried to pick me up throughout the night, most of them were just looking to get laid and it was pretty obvious. Not that I could expect much more in a place like this, but I couldn't believe the audacity of the college boy who got in my face when I was waiting at the bar and said, "Hey, do you work for Fed Ex? Because I totally saw you inspecting my package!"
Bonnie and I headed to the VIP lounge in hopes of some escape from guys like that but this time, there were so many professional types just trying to network and pick up business. While drunk.
Hassan did indeed have discriminating taste, but I was hoping for something more Studio 54 and less American Bar Association National Conference.
There were disappointed professional women back here who really just wanted to get laid, but they didn't get any dick, they got business cards with a work phone number.
Bonnie picked up my infinity-x margarita as we took a seat on a brocade couch that looked something out of the French Revolution era. "What the fuck is wrong with these people?" I blurted. "Work is the LAST thing I feel like talking about right now! This is the first night out I've had in ages, why can't you miserable fucks have any fun?"
Bonnie was pretty drunk too though I think I was in the lead. "Yeah...like those persnickety accountant guys over there that are making like this is a fucking country club. What, are they going to discuss golf scores next?"
We laughed, then got interrupted by a pretty girl who seemed to recognize Bonnie.
"Bonnie Bennett?"
"Huh?"
"Jenna Saltzman, from your first job, remember?"
She clapped her hands. "Sweetie, how ARE you! What the hell are you doing here?"
"I quit working for the judge's office when I got offered that job in New York, then I was sleeping with the boss and he fired my ass when his wife found out. I ended up at Vickie's club the day after, she heard about my demise then hired me for her PR team and I had to come back home for opening night." She paused to sip her drink. "I gotta say, dating and being married to lying douchebags actually ended up being the best things I did for my career! The windfall after the storm!" We clinked glasses. "So how did you get back here?"
"I'm working at Schrecter & Rose now, as Caroline the Rainmaker's assistant, who's VIP for life here. She's this close to making partner! You're never going to believe what case she just got assigned, Stefan Salvatore's di-"
"Shh, not so loud, someone might hear you! Don't freakin tell anybody!" I frantically looked around, trying to see if anyone was paying attention to us. "I also don't want any stuck-up lawyers who may be up here to nose about the case or come over and try to pick me up, or worse yet, attempt to network with me like these other phony douchecopters wandering around."
"Like that hot guy by the bar who's checking you out right now?"
We looked by the bar, and this really hot guy was sure enough staring at me. We stared back, then started giggling and quickly looked away. I peeked back over my shoulder, and he was still checking me out and grinning back at us.
"This is so high school," I said while trying to stifle laughter again.
"Oh god, he's coming over here!" Bonnie practically shrieked in my ear.
Bonnie and Jenna looked totally excited for me. "Caroline, mind if Bonnie and I go catch up on things a bit?"
"Yes, we're going to leave you alone with tall, dark, and handsome for a bit." Bonnie leaned down to whisper. "Text me if you need a bailout."
But before I could protest, Bonnie and Jenna walked off to go bring each other up to speed on their lives, and I saw another blue agave margarita appear on the table next to me.
"Looked like you could use another one," a deep but silky voice behind me said.
I actually felt myself blush as I turned around to meet my mysterious giver of margaritas. "Tall, dark, and handsome" was a major understatement. Dressed in all black, he was slim but muscular, with dark hair and dark eyes, and chiseled features that reminded me of those old Roman statues. He could've easily been on the cover of GQ or something.
He sat down next to me and upon closer look, his eyes were this strange color black like I'd never seen before, with long lashes. Maybe it was all the booze or the fact that I hadn't gotten laid in a long time, but his lips looked totally sensual.
"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation earlier."
Oh FUCK. "Uh, which one?" I immediately panicked, hoping he hadn't heard Bonnie telling Jenna about the Salvatore case.
"When you were going on about all the phony douchebags trying to network." He was smiling now, and it was one of the most perfect smiles I'd ever seen on a man.
My brain slightly impaired by all the booze, I tried to place his age. His clothes looked designer and he seemed too genteel and well-spoken to be one of the Ivy League fraternity douchehounds from downstairs but far too young-looking to be a 40-something married guy like what usually goes after me.
I didn't see a ring either.
All right, was a single man close to my age finally about to attempt to score? Damn, maybe Bonnie had been right about tonight all along.
"I know, right?" I took a huge swig of my margarita. "I'm here to just let loose and have fun, I don't want to think or talk about work. Everyone in this part of the club is just trying to whore out their companies or brag about their titles like I give a shit!"
He laughed. "I don't want to network, this isn't a convention at the freakin Hilton!"
Involuntarily, I touched his shoulder. It felt strong. "See, you get it!"
Tall, Dark, and Handsome knocked back some of his own drink. "Okay then. We can talk, and it won't be about our jobs. If anything, let's make up some total bullshit about what we do."
"Deal!" I shrieked and clinked glasses with him as his smoldering eyes were clearly roaming my body.
Most of the time when guys do that, it makes me uncomfortable. This time...I was starting to get a little turned on.
"I'm Caroline and I drive a Geek Squad car for Best Buy. So what's your name so I can stop referring to you as Tall, Dark, and Handsome?" Wow, I think that sounded even more idiotic out loud than it did in my head. But so long as I have my blue agave courage juice, it'll sound like I just gave a War and Peace dissertation.
He didn't seem at all perturbed by my bluntness. "So, my name's Tyler and I work at Starbucks."
I busted out laughing. "Bullshit! You don't work at Starbucks!"
His sensual lips broke into a smile. "That's the point. But I can still whip up a mean espresso."
"And I can still drive like a motherfucker!"
I had no more margarita left by now. This feeling in the pit of my stomach developed that I hadn't felt in a long time. I was incredibly drunk and could feel him undressing me with his eyes...then I started doing the same exact thing to him.
"Well, I certainly hope you won't be driving a car, Geek Squad or not, like this."
My purse fell off the couch, and I went to go get it, sort of accidentally-on-purpose giving Tyler a view as I put its contents back in.
When I got back up, there was a brief moment that we just awkwardly stared at each other. Work-related or not, talking was kind of the last thing I felt like doing.
I don't remember if he kissed me or if I kissed him, but next thing I knew his tongue was in my mouth, rampantly exploring, as I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders.
I've had some pretty intense drunken kisses before. But this one totally stood out. I don't remember the last time a man ever kissed me this passionately.
Or hell, maybe one had, but I was just never that into it. This time I certainly was.
I kissed back just as hard, sucking at his tongue, moaning into his mouth when his hand went down my back and squeezed my ass. In a bold move, I moved my leg up around his hip to bring me closer to him, and could feel his erection against my other thigh. I totally didn't care that half the VIP area was probably watching by now and one of those persnickety accountants would tell us to go get a room.
Chock full of dead-on horniness and liquid courage, I put my arm's around Tyler's neck and thrust my chest up against his then my tongue in his ear.
This was followed by, "I never wanted to fuck the living daylights out of a barista so badly."
He hotly replied with, "That's good, because I never walked into a Best Buy and met someone I wanted to fuck the minute I laid eyes on her." He swooped down to kiss me again, running his hand up my thigh.
"Get a room!" some drunk girl yelled at us as her friends tried to guide her to the couch we had been occupying since it looked like she was going to fall over.
"Learn to handle your liquor, girlie!" I called as we made a quick egress from the couch. Just in time too, because she totally hurled all over the potted plant next to it.
Laughing crazily, Tyler took my hand and we left the VIP area. I at least had to say goodbye to Bonnie and make sure she got in the limo safely, as drunk as I was. We looked around the main room of the club. She was nowhere to be found and we were almost at the exit.
With my arm around Tyler's shoulder and his arm around my waist, I realized I was totally shitfaced.
Hornier than ever. Feeling like the hottest piece of ass in the entire room.
Truly a master of the fucking universe.
I texted Bonnie, going home w/ tall dark & fucking HARDsome. call george to get ur ass home safe!
A few minutes later she replied with, OMG go for it! :) details details details tomorrow!
"We're good to go." I stood up for another kiss.
I had a vague recollection of getting into a cab, and Tyler almost pulling my bra off in the backseat. I don't know Newport News that well, and I was pretty trashed, so I wasn't sure where we were going and I don't think I asked. I wasn't entirely sure how long we were in the cab either.
But I do remember getting out and entering a large building that had a doorman, and getting on an elevator. Then entering a huge, lavish apartment that was probably the size of the entire first floor of my house.
"Either you work for the mafia or there's damn good reason Starbucks is a Fortune 500 company," I drunkenly commented as my shoes ended up somewhere in his massive foyer.
He laughed. "People tip me well." He put his arm around my waist and practically lifted me off the ground to kiss me deeply, his tongue exploring every bit of my mouth.
I kissed back harder, stroking the back of his neck, as his hands eagerly explored my body, about to make short work of my dress. Why didn't guys tear my dresses off in my days of clothing myself at Forever 21?
Somehow we walked into his bedroom and before Tyler threw me down on his huge, luxurious king-size bed that was akin to falling in a marshmallow, my dress ended up on the floor, and I was blissfully unaware of whether I helped him get me out of it or he just tore it off in impatience.
I was suddenly glad Bonnie had strong-armed me into buying that racy La Perla black bra and panty set on our shopping trip, just in case a lucky guy got to take them off.
Damn, she was totally on the money with the whole big night out and me about to have rampant sex with this incredibly beautiful man. Was she a witch or something?
"Beautiful," he whispered as he gazed at me in my underthings that didn't leave much to the imagination before slowly moving on top of me.
There is something about being kissed and felt up by a man still fully clothed while you're naked or almost naked that I find to be sexy and stimulating beyond belief. Tyler pulled me in all close, that intense tactile feel totally heightening the pleasure of our contact.
More slowly this time we kissed, his hand caressing my leg, moving upward in a very teasing manner. His lips moved to my neck then collarbone, his sensual lips feeling so warm against me. I was getting so fucking wet.
He could probably tell because he started stroking me through my panties as his kisses got lower and lower, and my loins totally burst into flames. I wanted nothing more than to tear his clothes off and mount him but at the same time this felt SO goddamn good.
I was getting a little impatient so I reached down to remove those obstructive panties, but he pulled my hand away.
"Allow me," he uttered in this velvety cream-your-pants voice. I decided not to argue with him as I felt goosebumps erupt all over my body as his adept fingers hooked under the black lace then down my legs, casting them off somewhere. Even in the dark, I could feel his dark eyes burning into me with desire.
I couldn't recall the last time I wanted, no, needed,a man inside me so fucking bad like I did Tyler just now.
I started unbuttoning his shirt, coming close to ripping it off, as he unclasped my bra. I was about to reach for his belt but he kept me pinned on my back and licked my rock-hard nipples, sucking gently at first then harder. I clasped my hands at the back of his neck and cried out at the sensation.
He stopped sucking so his kisses went further down my body, until next thing I knew my left leg was slung over his shoulder and he licked and kissed my thighs. Anticipating what was going to happen, I wrenched the loose corners of the bedsheets with my hands.
It was a good thing I did that because his tongue was inside me, licking and exploring every bit, until he found my clit and started paying some friendly attention to it. Licking slowly then harder and more rhythmically until I thought I was going to tear the mattress right out of the frame. He showed no sign of stopping after I screamed.
I stroked his hair and the back of his neck, arching my back occasionally to get licked exactly where I wanted. I wasn't sure how much more of this intense oral pleasure I could take anymore when suddenly he upped his lapping speed, rubbing circles on my inner thighs while licking just my clit toughly, and I was transported to another dimension that was made up of nothing but earth-shattering orgasms.
I laid back to catch my breath and heard the rustle of Tyler removing his pants. I was still buzzed from all of the night's liquor and dizzy with pleasure. I felt totally fucking ready for him, every nerve ablaze, every part of my body a veritable erogenous zone.
Suddenly his muscular body was pressed up against mine, running his hand down my side, kissing my neck. I could feel the velvety tip of his bare, hard cock up against my thigh. It then hit me that there was a lot more where that came from. I briefly wondered if I'd be able to take all of him.
Was too drunk and turned on to care. "Fuck my brains out, tall dark handsome stranger." I hotly whispered.
He took great care in entering me, probably well aware of my concern.
Once he was all in, he started thrusting deep and hard into me. It hurt a little but felt utterly amazing at the same time. I wrapped my legs around his hips, digging my nails into his back, to fuck him back just as hard and get him even deeper inside. I could feel him throb from deep within and fucking loved every second of it.
I screamed out when he turned us over and started fucking me from behind, grabbing my tits and squeezing my nipples incredibly hard as he was almost balls-deep inside me. Thrusting backwards against his massive cock was easier this way, and felt amazing. I fucked back harder and faster than he expected. His breathing was so heavy, it was a contrast to my higher-pitched screams of ecstasy. Just when I thought it wouldn't get any better, he moved his other hand to stroke my clit and I thought I was going to die of stimulation overload.
I moaned his name, the typical tenets of encouragement, then several unintelligible declarations of pleasure as he fucked and groped me sore. He seemed to love it just as much as I did.
My ego-stroking was pretty effective because next thing I knew, he grabbed me harder and said he was about to get off. I didn't know what to expect, maybe that he'd pull out by now.
Instead, he seemed a bit hellbent to have me beat him to the finish line, and he pulled me upright so I was sitting in his lap with his huge, throbbing member still inside me. He proceeded to fuck me so deep and hard that it felt like I was being pulled inside out, and he hit into this spot that sent me back to that alternate dimension I was in earlier. I moaned his name into his shoulder as I braced myself for his big finish.
Satisfied that I came first, he pulled out and finished off with his back facing me. How gentleman-like.
I was totally out of breath and felt like the room was spinning over and over again.
Tyler was by and far the most intense lover I ever experienced.
He made sure I experienced it again three more times, until he fell asleep and the sky was going from black to blue.
I wasn't sure how long I'd been asleep, but it was just about dawn when I came to.
My head was killing me, it felt like I had been hit by a bus. I suppressed a groan as I tried to sit upright in bed, and get my bearings as to where I was.
Suddenly feeling back in touch with my college days, I had that devoid feeling that's always present for almost a whole day after several hours of amazing sex. I felt incredibly sore between my legs, my thighs hurt, my ass hurt. Walking and sitting down was SO going to hurt later.
I looked around the room in my sore and hungover state, and realized I was definitely not home.
I was in a luxury condo that was clearly a well-to-do bachelor's, judging by the closet that was still ajar and the array of electronics. The well-to-do bachelor was snoring, dead to the world, next to me in the bed. I was stark naked. A quick peek out the window yielded an unfamiliar metropolitan setting. What fucking town was this? How did I get back here?
I remembered coming home with this guy and having the best sex of my life and that I had never been eaten out like that before.
His name was Tyler and we met at Vickie Donovan's new club. I remembered we were so off-put by the phony people trying to network in the VIP lounge so he said he worked at Starbucks and I said I worked at Best Buy, then somehow ended up tongue-wrestling shortly after that, which led to him taking me home.
My head felt like chainsaws were going off in it. How many margaritas did I have last night?
Tyler was still sound asleep and showed no sign of moving or getting up any time soon. I was never one for awkward mornings-after. I think it was for the best that I made like a tree and got the fuck out of here. Better to leave with no warning than have the guy awkwardly kick me to the curb like an angry lion weeding out his pack.
Quietly, I tiptoed onto the floor and out of the bed, careful not to disturb it and chance waking him up. I found my bra near the side of the bed I slept on, but my panties were nowhere to be found. My dress was laying in a pile near the door, so I ran for it, just to put it on to find that the side that didn't zip up was completely torn. Great.
But it would have to do for now.
I continued to silently lurk into the foyer, trying not to stop and be amazed at the high-vaulted ceilings, and a doorway on the right that appeared to be a bathroom nearly the size of my old bedroom at home before I took the master bedroom for myself. I had to pee really bad too, it was tempting to go in but I didn't want to risk waking him up.
As I scanned the foyer for my shoes and purse, I spied a large and airy kitchen that looked like something out of a Food Network backdrop with some expensive-looking appliances. Even one of those fancy steel-door refrigerators that have built-in icemakers and wine chillers. I wondered if he even used this stuff or probably had a personal chef or something.
Clearly, Tyler didn't work for Starbucks. Unless he was CEO.
My purse was on a lavish sectional leather couch, and a quick check ensured I had all of my important items in there. None of my money or IDs were missing, and my keys and Blackberry were in there safe and sound. I had missed a message from Bonnie that was sent around 2 AM: Made it home. Call me and tell me everything tomorrow! XO
I put it back in my purse then soon found my shoes just as sunlight began to fill the room, they were clearly thrown off drunkenly somewhere near his front door.
Using my old trick from college, I tiptoed towards the front door with shoes in hand, Blackberry on silent, I took my bra (which I only planned on shoving in my purse later anyway) and muffled the snap lock with it, then muffled the doorknob with it again and tiptoed to my exit.
The door creaked slightly but wasn't as loud as I expected. Must be a new building. I made it into the hallway and carefully and slowly closed the door, and heard a *snick* as the bottom lock hitched back automatically.
I put my shoes on as I waited for the elevator, desperate for some fresh air and just to relieve myself, take a shower, then sleep in my own bed for an incredibly long time.
The elevator took me back to the lobby, where an amused doorman couldn't takes his eyes off me. I shot him a death glare and made my way to the exit. I could see a few people outside, namely other boys and girls having similar walks of shame, and food service workers going to cafes and delis. I must be in a city of some type.
I walked down the street, whatever it was, and realized this was a high-rent district judging by the kinds of businesses around- organic dry cleaners, gourmet food shops, clothing stores that sell $35 pairs of pantyhose. This was the Upper East Side of...wherever. Maybe I DID end up back in New York for all I knew.
I made my way to a wider street that was some kind of main boulevard, and with relief I spied a taxi stand, which I made a break for. Which is always a bitch in heels.
I found a cabbie who had an available seat. "Can you take me to Mystic Falls?"
He looked at me all confused. "Mystic Falls?"
"It's about an hour from here?" I guessed. Then I realized the club was in Newport News but I may not be. "Wait, where the hell am I?"
"You're in Norfolk, lady."
Norfolk? How in the fuck did I end up in Norfolk?
Well, it would explain the bustling metropolis. Judging by the chi-chi neighborhood I was in, I think Bonnie and Vickie were totally on the money with Virginia being the new frontier for urban sophisticates. But it didn't matter, I had to get the hell home NOW. I was beginning to feel cotton-mouthed and just wanted to lay down with a cup of hot tea and Drop Dead Diva re-runs after sleeping like a hibernating bear.
I was feeling a little infuriated, yet tinged with longing, that I could still taste my tall, dark handsome stranger a little within my mouth.
"Please sir," I implored. "I'm hungover, I'm tired, and I'm trying to piece together how I got here. Don't you have a GPS in this cab? How far are we from Newport News?"
The cabbie replied, "About 25 miles. But that's not where you're going?"
"Newport News is about an hour from Mystic Falls," I explained. I opened my Blackberry's map app and showed it to him on the map.
After BS-ing with the cabbie about what highways to take and which route would be shortest, he agreed to take me back to Mystic Falls for $200, not including tip. Ugh.
I plopped my hungover, battered ass into the cab and laid back in the cruddy leather seat, longing for the limo and George the friendly driver from last night.
The cabbie started the car then commented, "Looks like you had some night!"
"Yep, I sure did." I massaged my sore temples. "Just wake me up when we're back in Mystic Falls, K?"
"You got it."
I was almost perfectly relaxed and almost comfortable enough to catch a cat-nap.
Then the driver went over a huge pothole and every sore, over-sexed part of my body practically yelled out in protest.
It was going to be a really long ride home.
Told you it'd be worth the wait. ;)
And maybe if you're really good and not held in contempt of court, there might be more lemons to get picked off the tree.
But I do have to dole out more lemony delights. Promissory estoppel, and all.
Reviews are better than Tyler picking the lemons off your tree...so the more you review, the quicker the next installment gets here!
