The Nature of Cruelty (23 page)

There’s only one space left, so Robert settles me on his lap. He moves one hand up and down my back just as the driver starts up the engine. Next, he laces his fingers through mine, rubbing his thumb against the inside of my palm.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” I hear Kara announce amid the chatter, extra loud so there’s no chance of us not hearing her.

I jump a little, but Robert rubs his thumb in harder and whispers fervently, “Ignore her.”

A second later I hear mutterings, followed by cackling from her and Michelle. I’m about to turn around when Robert suddenly takes my face into his hands and plants his lips on me. He kisses me long and deep, his tongue thrusting in and out (in a manner way too sexual to suit my nerves). His hands travel to my neck, and they feel so warm and soothing.

Kara makes some other snippy comment, but I’m too lost in the kiss to hear her properly.

I pull away for a second to catch my breath, but Robert only draws me back in again. Before I know it, the limo has stopped, and Robert finally releases my mouth, his breathing heavy. My gaze travels immediately to Sasha, who seems to be fascinated by staring woodenly at the stitching on her dress. I can’t tell if this is because she’s trying to ignore Jimmy or if she’s trying to ignore me and Robert. I need to find a moment to talk all this through with her, because she seems a little weird about it despite having claimed to be fine.

I have no idea where we are when I step out onto the path on a residential street. Alistair’s house is three stories high and surrounded by brick walls. I momentarily think it must be his parents’ place, but then I remember Sasha telling me that he bought his own house last year. At the time I’d imagined a small little starter home, absolutely nothing like this. There must be money in the restaurant business. That, or he got himself a highly ambitious mortgage.

The music coming from inside can be heard pumping loudly even out here in the garden because the front doors are wide open. There’s a huge crowd inside; half of them probably weren’t even at Alan’s party in The Dorchester. Back there the age bracket had been much older, while here I can’t see anyone over thirty. Someone has affixed disco balls to the ceiling, and there are colourful lights flashing everywhere. It’s a touch disorienting. Spread around the expansive living room are makeshift stripper podiums – sans any strippers for the moment.

Alistair suddenly appears in the wide double doorway between the living room and the kitchen, brandishing a pint glass of beer. He looks completely drunk; his long brown hair (usually tied back in a ponytail) is loose around his shoulders. He raises the glass to us and begins chanting a song:

When the glass is full, drink up, drink up!

This may be the last time we see this cup

If God wanted us sober he’d knock the glass over

So while it is full we drink up!

“Hey Al, mate, I think you might have had one too many,” says Robert, eyeing him speculatively.

Alistair slurs something at Robert, shaking his head.

“What’s that song from?” I ask. “I’ve never heard it before.”

Alistair wobbles on his feet, his face scrunched up as he thinks on it. “Heard some guy with a beard and an accordion singing it at a random gig I went to last year. It stuck in my head.”

“Oh,” I say, nodding, as he brushes by me, shouting at his girlfriend Sandra and calling her a wench.

“It looks like my boss is a sloppy drunk,” I comment.

Laughing, Robert pulls me into the kitchen, where there’s a selection of drinks spread across the long countertop. He pours me a plain orange juice, for which I’m grateful, and then grabs a tumbler glass for his scotch. This is the first time he’s stopped touching me since we left the hotel, and finally I feel like I can breathe. His attention can be so consuming that sometimes it feels like I’m underwater when his hands are on me.

I stare about at all the nameless faces, managing to spot the back of Sasha’s head as she walks through the wide kitchen entryway, going back out to the living room. I might be mistaken, but it kind of feels like she’s avoiding me.

“Where are you?” Robert asks, handing me my drink.

“Huh?”

“You look a million miles away,” he explains, moving his body in close but not touching me.

“Well, this day has been very disconcerting,” I say, taking a sip of the sweet, tangy liquid. A small wave of nausea overcomes me. It’s not that the orange juice tastes bad; I think I’ve just eaten a lot and experienced a bit too much excitement today. My body can’t absorb any more.

“We don’t have to stay here, you know. I could take you home in a cab.”

I wave him off. “No, no, I’ll be all right. I want to stay another while.”

At this moment a new song comes on in the living room, and people start cheering. Robert takes my hand and leads me in to see what’s going on. For a moment I can’t see past the people standing in front of me, but when I go up on my tippy toes, I spot the strippers entering through the other door. It looks like some sort of burlesque troop; male and female dancers are decked out in frilly undergarments with brightly coloured hair, tattoos, and piercings.

I glance at Robert beside me out of the corner of my eye. He’s taking a sip of his scotch and surveying the room with an amused look on his face. He doesn’t appear overly excited at the prospect of seeing the strippers perform, more vaguely entertained.

Marilyn Manson’s cover of “Tainted Love” is playing, and the strippers are getting up onto their podiums in, uh, creative ways. One girl with fire-engine red hair grabs a hold of the pole and swings her legs up and around it, baring her rear end to one half of the room. Kind of a cool move.

I spot Alistair standing to the front of the room just before he lets rip an ear-splitting wolf whistle. His girlfriend Sandra shakes her head at him with a grin. I think she knows he’s just trying to play the part of the wild and crazy host.

This might sound ridiculous, but I’m actually too nervous to bring myself to look directly at the male strippers. Don’t get me wrong, I want to, but I’m just afraid that Robert will catch me looking and tease me about it. For a split second I allow my eyes to take in the ripped stomach of one guy with bleach-blond hair before I focus my eyes somewhere in the middle of the room.

Robert moves behind me now, folding his arms around my waist and allowing the back of my head to rest against his collarbone. One hand spreads out over my thigh as he brings his mouth down to my ear so I can hear him over the music.

“I wish your skirts weren’t so long,” he says, his voice low.

I swallow hard.

His hand moves to the left a little, grazing me in the spot he’d touched so passionately earlier today at the store, and I tremble.

“What do you think of the show?” he goes on huskily, the slight smell of scotch on his breath.

“It’s…impressive,” I manage, and he chuckles.

“How does it make you feel?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Tell me.”

I hesitate for a long moment before answering, “Um, uncomfortable but interested all at once.”

“Interested, okay, let’s explore that. Why are you interested?”

A shiver runs through my body. “Because they’re attractive half-naked people?” I squeak.

“Is it just that, or are you curious for them to show more skin?”

“Robert, don’t,” I plead, my chest heaving.

“When you watch them, do you feel it here, Lana?” he asks, purring my name and pressing his hand between my thighs. The room is too packed with people for anyone to notice what he’s doing, but to be honest I don’t think they’d care either way. I saw one couple back in the kitchen halfway to oral sex when we’d been getting our drinks.

His fingers move, and I sigh quietly. “Yes,” I whisper, turning my face to bring my mouth closer to his.

He sucks in a breath and lets go of me suddenly, twisting me and practically dragging me from the room into the hallway and up the stairs.

“I don’t think we’re allowed up here,” I protest as we reach the landing.

“We’re allowed. Alistair won’t mind,” he says, opening the door to a bedroom. I catch a quick glimpse of naked limbs before he closes it again. “That one seems to be taken,” he continues, smirking.

We come across two more occupied rooms before we finally discover an empty one. Robert closes the door and locks it. Then he pulls me into him and places both my hands on his shoulders while he bends down to tenderly remove my heels. He tosses them into the corner, and it feels good to have them off my feet. I wriggle my toes.

“Cute,” he mutters, watching my feet.

I look away, glancing about the room.

He shrugs out of his suit jacket and lays it on an armchair close to the bed. Then he strides toward me, his eyes dark with intent.

“What are we doing up here?”

“Taking a break,” he answers obscurely.

Just before he reaches me, I move out of the way and go to sit down on the end of the bed. His answering smile is all teeth, and it feels like I’m being hunted. He sits down next to me and traces his hand along the back of my dress, toying with the zipper.

“Hmm, let’s get you out of this troublesome thing,” he breathes, pulling it down halfway.

I immediately jump up and back away from him. My heart is going
boom
,
boom
,
boom
, filling my ears with its incessant beat. In my head I can hear my mother’s voice warning me of the dangers of being alone with a man. I’ve already broken two of the rules:
Never let a man make your drink for you
and
Never go to an empty room alone with him
. I’m sure
Don’t allow him to lock the door
would be another one.

“I wouldn’t mind getting that cab home now,” I suggest, making my way for the door without even going to put my shoes back on. A split second later he’s on me. I’m backed up flat against the door, and his body is flush with mine. He coaxes my lips open with his mouth, and I surrender immediately. It’s all I can do not to melt to the floor when he grabs my hand and shoves it under his black shirt. My fingers shake as they skate over his hard abs and smooth skin. He’s just so beautiful. Impossible to resist.

He breaks our kiss to loosen his tie and pull it off, then instructs me, “Unbutton my shirt, Lana.”

My fingers shake even more now, but I manage to get the job done, chewing on my lip all the while. When his shirt is open I look to him expectantly, not knowing what to do next. Fortunately he pulls it off quickly and then unzips my dress the rest of the way. The top half falls to my waist, and his eyes burn when he takes in the sight of me wearing the corset bra he bought.

He tilts his head to the side and brushes his knuckles over the tops of my breasts. “You might be receiving a whole lot more new underwear from me in the near future. It’s crazy how much I like you in this.”

I shudder and break out in goose pimples as he bends down to lower the whole dress from me. I step out of it, not bothering to resist, and quite honestly not wanting to. Wherever this is going, I want to experience it. I try to put a block on all the fears and apprehensions in my brain, to drown out my mother’s voice with the sound of Robert’s heavy breathing and just feel this.

Then he’s on his knees, running the tips of his fingers along the edge of my pants. I’m surprised I don’t explode when he presses his face into my mound and nuzzles the lacy fabric. I giggle nervously at the sensation. But then moments later I’m crying out at the movement of his mouth and nose, pressing hard and shooting sparks right through my body. He stands up suddenly and throws me into the centre of the bed before crawling up between my legs and resuming his nuzzling. I stare down at him all the while, frozen in pleasure just watching him.

He pulls the fabric aside a little, exposing the skin beneath. I hiss out a breath, forcing myself not to ruin the moment by clamming up. His eyes glance up at me now, so hot and smouldering. “Has anyone ever gone down on you before, Lana?” he asks curiously, eyes soaking up the view.

I blink several times, not knowing how to answer him. In the end all I can manage is a simple shake of my head.

“Fuck,” he swears, his expression intense. “That’s what I was hoping. I promise you’ll like this.”

Again, all I can do is nod.

He lifts my hips and pulls my underwear off. The next thing I know his head is back between my legs and his tongue is on my naked flesh, licking and sucking. I let out a moaning sound I wasn’t even aware I was capable of making. He gives me a wicked grin and flicks his tongue over my clit.

“God.” I let out a long sigh.

“That’s it,” he urges me. “Let go. Just feel what my tongue is doing to you.”

My hands tremble as I grip the bed sheets tight and tense my legs. Robert drags his tongue slowly along my folds, back and forth, while taking in my every reaction. He looks like every decadent sin on earth. The sensation he’s making me feel is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. My head goes foggy as I let it fall back into the pillows.

“Please,” I sigh, as the tingling pleasure builds and he starts swirling his tongue around faster.

He reaches up and grips my chin. “Don’t look away.”

After he says this, my eyes remain glued to him. I don’t remember touching his hair, but I must have been because it’s all tousled now. One strand hangs attractively over his forehead.

“Oh, God, Robert,” I moan, practically tearing the sheets now, I’m gripping them so tight. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. Shit. Robert.”

My thighs on either side of his head squeeze tight as an orgasm rockets through my system. He continues sucking until all of the waves have abated and I’m sinking back into the soft mattress, my entire body feeling like nothing but a mass of satisfied mush.

His lips are smeared with my wetness as he smiles at me hungrily. I grip his shoulders and pull him up the bed so that I can snuggled into his chest.

“I seriously have no words,” I say into his warm skin.

He laughs and wraps his arms around me. “No words are a good sign.”