Atlantis (2 page)

Chapter Three

             
The clock read four thirty two when Sloane and Nate stumbled into her apartment.  She drank a lot more than she'd planned to, and Nate had to carry her from the club to the car and then from the elevator to her apartment. As soon as the door was closed, Nate grabbed her and pinned her against the wall, kissing her hard on the mouth. Sloane weaved her fingers into his hair and held him to her, not wanting the pleasure to end. Every flick of his tongue over hers was magnified by her lack of inhibitions. Nate tasted incredible and felt even better.

             
"Sloane," he whispered, dragging his mouth down her neck, kissing her throat and collarbone.

"Yes," she moaned her approval as her hands went to his shirt. Her fingers clawed at his buttons, frantic to rid him of his clothing. Sloane managed to get his shirt unbutton, and then she guided it from his shoulders until it fell to the floor in a heap. She bit on her bottom lip and admired his body for a moment.

Nate put his hands on her hips and ran them up the length of her torso until he found her zipper. He gently pulled it down, exposing the curve of her hip. The cool air made Sloane shiver as she shrugged the dress from her shoulders.

"Good God," he groaned as his lips made their way down her neck and toward her bare breasts.

She planted her foot firmly against the wall and arched closer to him. Her breathing was erratic, but tame in comparison to her heart. "Kiss me." Her hands clutched his face, demanding his lips.

"Sloane" He pushed his body tight against hers. "Are you sure you want to do this here? I can carry you to bed."

She once again moved to meet him, rubbing herself on him like a cat in heat, dry humping his crotch. "Yes, right here. I need you so bad, Nate." Her hand slid down his chest and into his pants. "Please. If you don't do this, I'm going to die." Sloane could feel him growing in her hand as her fingers massaged his dick. She wanted to feel him inside of her, to feel so full of him that she wouldn’t know where he ended and she began.

Nate forced her to release him. He gathered both of her wrists into one hand and pinned them above her head while his other hand worked his pants down over his hips. "Don’t move," he said as he released her hands and dug into his wallet for a condom.

She loved it when he took charge like this. Staying perfectly still, Sloane drew a deep and shaky breath and met his eyes. They were lustful and questioning. Why was he hesitating? She brought her head forward, enticing him to kiss her. "Fuck me, Nate,” she whispered the command with a hungry demand. "Fuck me now."

He took her wrists into his hand again and with a single hard thrust of his hips, he drove his steel hard erection into the saturated flesh of her folds.

"Oh! God! Yes!" she screamed flinging her head back against the wall with a hard thud. "Ouch," she said and they both laughed.

"Easy, baby." He worked in and out of her with tight, controlled movements. 

Nate released her hands, letting them fall to his shoulders as he gripped her thigh and pulled it to his hip. He adjusted his footing and continued to fuck her. With slow controlled stokes, he eased back slowly until only the thickened head remained inside of her, and then he buried himself deep into her again.

             
"Sloane," he breathed her name. "You feel so good, so tight and wet. Come for me, baby." 

His explicit words sent her careening out of control. Sloane felt like she was falling, disappearing over the precipice of pleasure and into the never ending blackness of her orgasm. She bucked against him and moaned, begging, pleading for more until her voice failed her. The world melted around her, leaving her clinging to the hard flesh of his biceps, riding the movements of his hips as her orgasm rippled through her body. She’d never orgasmed like that before. It was hard, uncontrolled, and it left her weak in the knees. 

"Yeah, that’s it baby." He pushed harder and faster until she felt him explode. "Fuck!" Nate jerked inside of her. "Yes. Oh, God, yeah."

Sloane hugged his head to her heaving chest as they fought to steady their breathing.
Holy shit! That was incredible, so much better than she remembered.
She whimpered when Nate eased out of her. Still leaning against the wall for support, Sloane looked at him. His face was flushed a beautiful shade of pink from his orgasm, and his dark eyes were intense, magnified by his heavy lids.

"You okay?" he asked, steadying her.

"Yeah."

Nate smiled. "Good, now let's go to bed." He took her hand and led her to her bedroom.

*****

Sloane groaned and smacked at her alarm. It couldn't be morning already, could it? It felt like she'd only been sleeping for an hour. Sure enough, it was time for her to get up and shower. She had to meet Candice at Mom's house for brunch. It was a rule. Every time they returned from a shoot, they had to meet Mom to discuss how things went and to work out their schedule for the following month.

She rolled over, reaching for Nate only to find that side of the bed empty and cold. Sitting up, she yawned and looked around. There was no sign of him. All of his clothes were gone and he hadn't bothered to leave a note. What the hell? It wasn't like him to take off like that. And based on how cold the sheets were, she guessed he'd taken off a while ago. Oh well, she shrugged and got out of bed. She'd call him later. Chances were he had a good reason for taking off, he usually did.

An hour later, Sloan and her sister walked up the steps to their mom's house. It was more like a mansion, really, with stone pillars and a ridiculously perfect manicured lawn. It was like something out of a movie. The girls knew it was their money that paid for this house and their mother's lavish lifestyle, but no one ever spoke of it. It was just one of those things. Plus, their mom had taken care of them all their lives. What was wrong with them giving back a little?

"Morning ladies," said Frank, the butler. He stepped aside and let them enter.

"Frank." Sloane nodded and smiled. "Where's mom?"

"Out back in the gardens. She's expecting you."

They made their way out back and found Geraldine sitting at the patio table, oversized sunglasses covered her eyes, and she was wearing a bikini that made Sloane blush—and that was a hard thing to do. "Hi, Mom." Sloane gave her a kiss on the cheek. Candice did the same.

"Sit down," Geraldine snapped, not giving either of them recognition for their affections.

Candice glanced at Sloane as if to say, this isn't going to be good. Sloane frowned as she sat. "What's up?"

"I should be asking you two that." Geraldine tossed a couple of newspapers and several magazines across the table. "What the hell happened last night?"

The girls exchanged another look. Candice cleared her throat, and said, "We went to the grand opening of the new club, just like you asked us to."

"Yeah, it was fun, too."

"A little too much fun, it seems." Geraldine reached over and picked up one of the magazines. She flipped it open and showed it to Sloane.

There was a two page spread of pictures of her in some rather unflattering poses. One of her and Nate on the dance floor when she was massaging his crotch; one of her sitting on his lap with her dress hiked up her thighs, kissing him; another of her being carried out of the club by Nate, clearly drunk and possibly passed out; and several of her on the dance floor with various people. Sloane knew her mother was pissed, and she was afraid to look at her.

"And you," Geraldine pointed at Candice, "for as many pictures as there were of you, it's a small wonder people knew you were even there. Six photos, Candice, six! That's pathetic!"

"I left early to study," Candice said, keeping her eyes down.

"You and that stupid dream to get a college degree. Don't you realize you've got a good thing going here? You could have twelve college degrees and not many as much money in a lifetime that you make in one month while modeling."

"Mom, please calm down," Sloane said. "We'd been gone for almost a month. So I went a little overboard and Candice went home. Who cares?"

"I care." Geraldine stood and put her palms flat on the table. "The press cares. Our business contacts care. You two don't realize how negative publicity affects your reputations in this industry. Now I've got to spend God knows how long doing damage control."

Sloane rolled her eyes. Her mother could be so dramatic at times. It's not like they were out on the street corner or snorting cocaine. Jeesh. So what if Sloane was caught making out with her boyfriend? It was no secret that she and Nate had been exclusively dating for the past six months. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Yeah, sorry, Mom," Candice said, finally looking up.

"Okay then." Geraldine sat back down, smoothed her hands over her hair, and took a deep breath. "Let's talk about your schedules." She pulled a folder from her black leather bag that she'd had resting on the chair beside her.

Sloane and Candice reached for their schedules at the same time. Sloane studied hers, and the further down the page she read, the angrier she got. Beside her, Candice let out an agitated huff.

"Mom, I can't do shoots and television interviews in California. I have final exams that week," Candice said.

"Yeah, and I've got Nate's birthday party. We've been planning it for two months," Sloane said.

"Too damn bad." Geraldine looked back and forth between her daughters. "If you want that cover shoot for Évoqué you'd best stop complaining. The only way you're going to get it is to get out there and show them that you can do it."

Sloane slumped back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. Évoqué was a dream job. It was the one job she and her sister had dreamt of for as long as she could remember. If they could get on the cover of Évoqué, they'd never have to take another job they didn't want. Geraldine knew that, too, and she used it against them every time they complained about their schedules. It was so unfair.

"We just got home after being gone for three weeks and now you want us to go away again for another three weeks? When do we have to leave?" Candice asked.

"The day after tomorrow. The pilot already has your flight plans ready. You have to be on the jet and in the air by eight fifteen in the morning."

Sloane stood up abruptly, tipping her chair over when she did. "Thanks a lot, Mom," she sneered as she walked back into the house. Nate was not going to be happy when she told him that she'd have to miss his birthday. The thought of telling him had her stomach in knots. It was all so unfair. And poor Candice—she'd been studying so hard for her exams. What was she going to do?

Sloane got in her Aston Martin and sped away from her mother's house. She dug out her cell phone and dialed Nate's number. The moment she heard his voice, tears fell from her eyes. 

Chapter Four

              "Dean Herrington will see you now, Miss Parker." The secretary smiled and nodded.

             
"Thanks." Candice smoothed her skirt down and walked into the dean's office. "Hello, Dean Herrington. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

             
He smiled. "Please, have a seat, Miss Parker."

             
Candice sat, crossed her legs, and folded her hands in her lap. She was so nervous. Having a face to face meeting with the dean of the college wasn't something most students ever did, but she was desperate. Talking with her professors hadn't yielded the results she had hoped for so the dean was her last hope.

             
"What can I do for you today?"

             
"Well, as you know, final exams are next week. I've been studying every chance I get, and I feel as though I'm ready for them. Unfortunately, I just received my work schedule and I have to be in California that week. I've tried to reorganize my work schedule, but have been unsuccessful." She paused.

             
"Miss Parker, when you were granted admission into this university it was with the understanding and the promise that you would take it seriously, that it would be a priority."

             
"And it is," she said quickly. "My grades are good, and I've never missed a deadline for an assignment. I want to graduate from here more than anything."

             
Dean Herrington nodded, and then stood. He stared out the window for a few moments before saying, "What exactly are you asking for then?"

             
"For permission to take my exams when I return," Candice said with as much confidence as she could muster. When in front of the camera, she felt like she owned the world. But when in the real world, she was rather shy and a little unsure of herself, especially when dealing with a man like Dean Herrington. He was tall, six foot nine inches, with broad shoulders, a receding hairline, and a beer gut that hung a good two inches over his waistline. He was not the least bit attractive, but he did command respect and that's what scared Candice.

             
"It's very unorthodox for me to allow a student to enroll and do all of her classes as independent studies." He moved away from the window and walked around to the front of his desk. He leaned his butt on the edge and crossed his arms over his chest. "But, I made an exception for you, Miss Parker, because I liked you. You were focused and determined."

             
"Thank you, sir."

             
"You've done well here, and I'd hate to see all your hard work go to waste."

             
Candice smiled. She knew going to the dean was a good idea. "Thank—"

             
"Don't thank me yet," he said, holding up his hand to silence her. "You're going to have to convince me that giving you yet another exception is the right thing to do."

             
"Yeah, okay," she nodded, thinking of what she would say next, mentally preparing a convincing argument. "Would you like me to put something in writing for you? Like an educational contract or something?"

             
He smiled. "I was thinking something a little more hands on." The dean put his hand on her bare knee and looked into her eyes. "Oral, perhaps?" he said, reaching for his zipper with his other hand.

             
Candice was stunned into momentary silence. Was he really asking for sexual favors in return for allowing her to take her finals at a later date? Her face flushed with warmth, and the tips of her ears burned hot. How disgusting! She could tell by the look in his eyes that if she didn't do exactly as he asked, he wouldn't give her what she wanted—no, needed—in order to pass her classes and her exams. Slowly, Candice stood. Dean Herrington smiled again, both hands going to his waist, his stubby fingers fumbling with his belt buckle.

             
"I knew you were a smart girl," he said, removing his belt. "And sexy, too."

             
She wanted to scream and cry and rant. But she held it together. "Dean Herrington—"

             
"Please, call me Steve." He dropped his pants, leaving him standing in his silk boxers, his erection prominent.

             
"Steve," she said through clenched teeth. The sight of him made her want to vomit. "You can take my diploma and shove it up your ass! I'd rather flunk than touch you." Then she turned on her heel and stormed out of his office. Once she was outside, the tears she'd worked so hard to keep at bay, spilled down her face in waves. She couldn't believe it. Just like that, two years of hard work, her dreams of being a college graduate, it all just vanished. Candice got in her BMW and called Shandra at home.

             
"Hello?"

             
"Ella? Where's Shandra? I need to talk to her," Candice said.

             
"Oh, hi, Candice. She's out for the day, and she forgot her cell phone. What's up? You don't sound so good."

             
"I'm not." Candice sniffled and wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Maybe Sloane would be home, she thought as she sped out of the campus parking lot.

             
"Want to talk about it? I can meet you at that new Italian place on the Boulevard. I haven't eaten anything yet today and I'm starved," Ella said.

             
The idea of hanging out with Ella wasn't that appealing, but she had to talk to somebody about what just happened. And Ella really wasn't that bad when she was alone. Candice sighed. "Yeah, okay, I'll meet you there in half an hour. Thanks, Ella." Candice hung up and concentrated on the road, her mind reeling from everything that had just happened. Oddly enough, the one thing she kept coming back to was the fact that her mother was going to be happy about it because she'd never really approved of Candice's decision to go to college.

*****

              An hour later, Candice sat at a table across from Ella, who was constantly glancing around the restaurant as if she were expecting someone or waiting for something to happen. "Did you hear anything I've said?" Candice asked with irritation.

             
"Yeah, yeah, of course, I heard," Ella said with a dismissive way of her hand. She sipped on her wine, her gaze still wandering over the rim of her glass.

             
Candice turned in her chair and looked around. "What on earth are you looking for?"

             
"Huh? Oh, nothing. So, what are you going to do about Dean Pervert?"

             
"I have no idea." Candice sighed. "There's no way I'm having sex with him, that's for sure." She shuddered. "The thought sickens me. But, I've worked so hard for this degree, and I'm so close."

             
"Is there anyone else you can go to? Anyone who is above the dean?" Ella seemed to finally relax a little.

             
"I suppose I could write a letter to the board of directors, but that could take weeks. By then, finals will be over, and I'll have failed." The more she talked about it, the more hopeless it seemed. 

             
"I say you get a lawyer and threaten to sue him. I bet that will change his mind." Ella smiled.

             
Yeah, and it would cause one heck of a controversy, too. Bad publicity--that's what her mother would call it, and that would lead to Geraldine getting angry. No matter what Candice did, it wasn't going to work out so well for her. "I'm not sure that'll help," Candice said after a pause.

             
Ella shrugged. "I don't know what else to tell you." She propped her elbow on the table and cradled her face in her hand.

             
Candice eyed her suspiciously. The way Ella sat, it was a definite pose. Candice looked around the restaurant and found several photographers lurking, snapping pictures of her and Ella. "Did you tell them we were going to be here?" Candice leaned across the table and whispered vehemently.

             
"Tell who?" Ella asked innocently.

             
"The paparazzi."

             
"They're here?" Ella once again looked around, flashing a smile for the cameras.

             
"You're unbelievable, Ella." Candice grabbed her purse and left the restaurant. She knew it was going to be a mistake to try and have a normal, adult conversation with Ella. All that girl cared about was getting discovered and she didn't care who she used to do it. Candice cringed at the thought of what her mother would say when pictures of Candice crying, make up running down her face, surfaced in the press. This day couldn't possibly get any worse.