Heart Of Stone (4 page)

“Oh, oh, God.” Donnella whimpered, her hands flying down to his head as he suckled her. The muscles of her insides began to tighten and flex and her legs started to shake, making her put all of her weight on to the couch. Just as she was about to climax he stopped, and she screamed, from the void it left behind. Kissing her she could hear the jingle of his belt buckle, and the unzipping of his pants. She reached down finding him rock hard and jumping as he worked his way to her. Taking her legs up over his forearms he slid into her and she dug her nails into his shoulders.

“Fuck, watch your
nails
!” He growled, into her mouth, followed by three hard thrusts, which sent her over the edge, her body tightened and she clung to him as she came, her knees locked up at his sides.

“Shit. Already?” He panted nibbling at her shoulder, slowing his pace. I’m not even near there.”

“Keep going.” She lifted her ass, pushing herself against him, wanting him deeper. He filled her, made her body ache in all the right places. Finally she felt him tense up, his arms tensed as he slowed. He buried his face in her hair taking in her scent for a moment longer. His cock twitched inside her, as it did he reached between them, and began to furiously rub her clit, sending a shockwave to her loins. He pumped deeply into her, and she came again falling against him.

“Fuck, me…” Donnella’s head rolled to one side as they separated and both slid to the floor. “That was… Holy shit.” She laughed, so did he.

“I think my legs just turned to jelly.” He groaned, pushing himself against the back end of the couch next to her.

“No fair you still have your socks on!” Donnella shouted with a playful shove to Matthew’s side.

“And I let you keep your garters and stockings… So we are even.” He snapped the elastic on the thin strapped garment

5

Two weeks after the signing of the Non-Disclosure Agreement and Matthew Mayfield had all of his belongings packed and ready to be shipped out of Connecticut and into the city. He looked around the two bedroom apartment he’d shared for two years with his best friend Janet, and felt a little sad.

“It’s not like I’m going to be across the country. It’s a train ride, and a subway token away. Hell I’ll get her to send a car once a week if you want.” Matthew insisted, as Janet stared at him with tears standing in her eyes.

“I’m just gonna miss having you tripping all around the house, man.” She sniffed walking him out of the building. “And what about Pepper? Whose gonna take care of her while you’re busy schmoozing and screwing?”

“They hired me a walker, plus I’m told that with her schedule I’ll have plenty of time on my hands to work. I mean it’s been two weeks since I’ve even seen her. It’s always those security guys, who don’t talk to me.”

“But we’re still gonna work then?”

“That’s why I’m doing this. I need thirteen female models, don’t rush, be sure they really want to do it, and will be comfortable in front of the lens. Do the screen shots like I showed you. Then come see me. I’ll send you the address as soon as I settle in.”

“So you haven’t even seen the place?”

“Nope, she was going with this posh little studio in the East Village, but then she said something about the commute to see me, so now I have no idea but she says that I’ll love the view.”

“Well, I guess it’s that time, kiddos.” Raj smiled softly, trying not to cry as he put an arm around both of them. “I’ll take care of our girl. Don’t you worry.”

“I bank on it.” Matthew hugged them as the Towncar pulled up and the last of his things, a large duffle bag and Pepper were loaded inside. The Security detail did not seemed pleased by the presence of the overly hyper pup.

“You better call me and send pictures!”

Matthew nodded with a smile as he climbed into the car, Pepper climbing into his lap.

***

An hour and a half later they were outside The Stone Tower. He had not thought he would see the place from the inside again from the way the guards had reacted when he asked about it that first night. Now he saw the small truck and the movers unloading his things. As he entered the front desk clerk met him with a smile. A set of keys was pushed into his hand and he was escorted to the elevator.

“Hello Mister Mayfield. My name is Xavier, if there is anything you need simply ring us by pressing zero. It’s floor Twenty-Seven, the second apartment on the left.”

Matthew was put into the elevator and the clerk pushed the button before he could even think of any questions to ask.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” He ran his hand down his face, taking off his glasses for a moment, to rub the bridge of his nose. The elevator doors opened as his easels went walking by in the hands of two movers. He followed them around the corner and into the second apartment to the left. “There has to be some mistake...”

The space was three times the size of his previous apartment. Hell it was bigger than his mother’s house. A twenty foot Cathedral ceiling hung over the living room which was furnished with buttery soft brown leather couches and chairs facing the marble fireplace. Off of it was a small balcony that overlooked Central Park and the Metropolitan museum. From the balcony he realized that it also had a kitchen much like the one in the penthouse above. A place where he could spread out and really express himself through his cooking. Glass cooktops, a sink in the granite topped island in the center, plus gas stoves, double ovens and broilers. A double doored stainless steel fridge and upright freezer finished the space nicely. There was a dining room large enough to entertain and it was furnished in leather padded seats and a glass tabletop. As he took in the lines of the place looking upward he realized there were stairs leading to a second floor, as one of the movers came down them looking a bit flustered.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me. There’s more?” He felt like a kid in a candy store, but tried to hold back the excitement as the movers snickered hearing him.

The second floor overlooked the living room and walked out to a private terrace that looked out and over the city’s famous park from a new angle. Pepper whined as she looked through the cement fixtures of the terrace.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to worry, but you can at least get fresh air out here.” He smirked, scratching her between the ears, making her let out an approving yip. The terrace had plenty of living plants that seemed as though they would take care of themselves for which he was glad as he had a black as opposed to green thumb. As he went inside Pepper darted for one of the three doors on this level, scratching at it energetically.

“What is it, Pepper?” He pushed the door open to find a fully furnished master bedroom. Almost. It was missing the most crucial thing. The bed. Where it should have been lay a note and an envelope.

“Huh?” He picked up the envelope opening it before reading the note. He dropped it with a surprised gasp to find five thousand dollars cash inside. “What the fuck?”

He turned over the piece of paper in his hand, reading the flawless note.

***

‘Matthew,

I’ve taken care of mostly everything you could need, except your personal shopping. Like food and toiletries. It think some things a man just needs to do on his own. As for the missing bed. That’s a very personal choice, you can keep your old one if you like, or go get a new one. I think a man’s bed says a lot about him. I wonder what kind of man you are. Firm, plush, something in-between. Do you prefer it bouncy or smooth sailing? I guess I’ll find out. Anyhow, I’ve given you this month’s stipend. It’s only half of course since it’s only half the month I’m utilizing you. Hope you understand. I will send for you later this evening. Please be dressed for dinner. Shirt and tie, and ware that Armani Jacket I do so love.

D.S.

***

He looked down at the pile of cash on the floor. “I feel like Julia Roberts.”

***

“What do you mean she won’t see me? Do you know who I am?” A tall blonde man was near to screaming at Stephanie, the receptionist at
The Keynote
Gallery
. His neck muscles straining as he stalked toward the door to the main floor. She stood up hitting the button for security. “She said you were not to be permitted. Mister Gentry. That she had other business to attend to for the day.”

“Bullshit. She’s been avoiding me for the last two weeks, I demand an answer.”

From behind the glass doors three security guards appeared, each larger than the next and all too familiar with Claude Gentry. The Metal head who until a few weeks prior had shared the bed of Donnella Stone. Their arrangement was over and he knew the rules. It was over and he was supposed to be on his own, but he’d hit a snag. A groupie was claiming to be pregnant and was demanding money or she was going to keep the baby. Now he was looking for Donnella to make it go away.

“Miss Stone is out of the office, and unless you want to see the inside of a hospital we suggest you leave,
now
.” Cordell spoke up, cracking his neck and his knuckles.

“I-I got it. I don’t wan- want any trouble, guys. J-just tell her I- I need to see her.”

“No, we won’t.”

***

From inside the safety of her wood and chrome office Donnella watched the scene unfold on her computer monitor. “I don’t feel one bit sorry for Claude Gentry. I had warned him. Told him not to fuck up.” She shook her head looking to Harold who was looking down at his cell phone. Something he rarely did in her presence.

“Am I boring you today?”

“No, Miss Stone. I’ve received a text from Xavier, at the Tower. Apparently Mister Mayfield is a bit overwhelmed, and in need of some help as to the shopping.”

“That’s adorable.” She smirked. “You should go help him, I’m sure it would be at least more entertaining than the afternoon I have planned.”

“Don’t you have the Mcloughlin meeting at two? I thought you might need me for that?”

“It’s a preliminary. Just the Lawyer, I can handle Donavan Kelly.”

“I was more worried about how he was going to handle you.” Harold whispered standing up. “If you are sure, because I have no problem running interference.”

“Girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. I know my way around him well enough. Don’t worry. Just have Matthew at Jacoby’s for seven thirty. I made reservations.”

“Taking him out for a public display, so soon?”

“Well I need to see how he responds, if I’m to take him to the Governor’s Christmas party next week, don’t I.”

“Yes I was wondering about that. Do find out if he wants the chicken or the steak.”

“You’re about to meet up with him, find out yourself and get him something worth wearing to the event. Make sure he burns whatever he’s wearing when you get to him. Except the Armani.”

“But of course.” Harold laughed.

***

When Harold knocked on the door to Matthew’s apartment he found the door to be unlocked, so he let himself in to be greeted by a happy little puppy and a frazzled tenant.

“What is the problem?” Harold asked seeing Matthew as he flipped through papers and tossed canvases aside like old shirts.

“I’m missing prints. My wounded soldiers, the whole reason I even agreed to this cockamamie scheme. I can’t find them. It’s like my whole portfolio has been stripped.

“Easy there tiger. I’m sure there is an explanation.” Harold took out his tablet and swiped a few times at random. “Here it is. It wasn’t stripped, it was combed through by Mister Walsh, Miss Stone’s silent partner at the gallery. He took them to start the collection for you. There was supposed to be a contract here about it. Idiot movers, did what they do best. Moved it and no one told you about it. I am so very sorry.”

“You can’t just take my things like that!” Matthew said huffing as he sank down into the softness of the couch, the puppy jumping up with some difficulty. He reached down picking her up. “Scared the crap outta us, didn’t they?”

“Again, very sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“No, it
won’t…
Anyhow what are you doing here?”

“Heard from Xavier you were having some issues about shopping, so Donnella sent me as reinforcements.”

“Can you help?”

“I’m sure we can work out something. What do you need?”

“A bit of everything I guess. I don’t really know the city. Just the clubs and the village and none of that helps me here. I know the mall but that’s nowhere near here.”

“Indeed not.”

“Let’s start with necessities. I don’t have a scrap of food, how are the supermarkets? Organic foods, decent butchers stuff like that?”

“You a bit of a foodie?”

“I can cook well, and appreciate a good steak. Like to do fish I know there’s a great market down by the river for that.”

“If you’re looking to cook, then it’s the Chelsea Market, hands down. You’ll spend the whole day in there, and need help carrying it all home. So let’s not, today. We can hit the little stands for the regs. Milk, eggs, bread, that stuff. Some fresh produce. Okay? But we need to get you, from what I understand some clothes and a bed?”

Matthew nodded.

Okay, so off to Barney’s, Giorgio’s and Macy’s for the bed.”

***

The bar was mostly empty, as was usually was on a Tuesday afternoon. That was the way he liked it. When Donavan Kelly called Donnella and told her to meet him to go over the preliminary merger paperwork her throat had closed up. She had never expected to hear from him again, let alone have to have a meeting with him. He had been her mentor in Law School. Her first and last love. Only a T.A. at the time Donavan had taken her under his wing and shown her the ins and outs of the field. How to manipulate the system to her advantage and still keep it all legal. He showed her how she could take the Stone Company out of the Dark Ages. He also broke her. Body and soul. He was her first contract, although she had not been on the controlling side. When it was finished they were supposed to stay away from each other. That was the rules. It had worked wonderfully for the past ten years. If he RSVP’d she declined, and vice versa. So why would he jump on bored for something like this? Why now? And why was he asking to meet in their old haunt?

She had arrived first. Or at least it seemed that way to her, as she didn’t see him watch her from the booth in the back as she settled at the bar anxiously. He watched as she fidgeted with her hair and waited for the bartender to come to her.

“Hi, yeah I’ll take-”

“An apricot brandy sour!” Donavan called from the booth as he approached.

Donnella jumped up holding her clutch to her chest, pulling her coat closed.

“We’ll take it back here, Mick.” Donavan motioned for her to join him in the back booth.

She remembered the booth all too well. The humiliating things he had made her do to him. The way he would toy with her not letting her make a sound, waiting until the tears streamed down her face before he would stop. She had put up with it because she thought she was in love, because she thought that was what she needed to do in order to keep him.