VAIN (The VAIN Series) (7 page)

"Alexa. Christ. Let me come in your mouth." Noah's voice calls from above me as his hands pull hard on my hair. "Suck my cock."

I don't need the encouragement. I need an escape from my life. Sucking on Noah's dick was working. There was absolutely no way I could focus on anything but this right now.

"I'm going to shoot down your throat." His voice is deep, heavy and filled with measured desire.
I reach for his heavy balls, pulling them into my palm, kneading them as I suck heartily on the head of his dick. "Come," I whisper around the heavy root. Come so you can pound the memory of Brighton Beck right out of my body.

He rewards me with a burst of hot desire that lands right at the back of my tongue. I pull him out slowly, knowing from experience that with a man this big, it's going to be much more than I can handle in one swallow. I'm right. He pumps into me, over and over again, the thick hot stream pouring down my throat.

"Give me five minutes and I'll make you come." He leans back onto the mattress now as I still rest on my knees on the floor at the edge of his bed. "I have to catch my breath. Fuck, you suck cock better than…" he catches himself before anything else pops out of his mouth.

The almost comparison to another woman tears right through me. I rest my forehead against the sheet to temper my emotions. This isn't heavy. It's not serious. Don't take the shit he says to heart, Alexa. Don't let Brighton's asshole cheating ways ruin this for you.

"Alexa." Noah's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Look at me."

My head pops up and the end of the camera lens greets me. I hear the light tap of the shutter as he captures a steady stream of images of my face. "Noah," I whisper in mild protest.

"I'm going to say something to you…" he begins before he stops himself. "No." He pulls on my hands as a silent request to join him on the bed.  I acquiesce and crawl into his lap, his cock resting heavily on the sheet between his open legs.

"What?" I trail a path along the large tattoo on his shoulder with my finger. I study all his tattoos each and every time I set eyes on him but whenever I've asked what each design represents, he changes the subject. It's obvious that the art that adorns his body is personal, too personal to share with me.

"We're done today." The words are clipped, direct and final.

"I know." I look in the eyes, wondering if he feels the same sense of loss that I do knowing that I don’t have a reason to come back to his apartment after today.

His hands circle my body pulling me closer to him. "The work part is done," he clarifies. "The us part…do you want that to be done?"

Is he honestly asking me if I want to give him up? "You don't want it to be done?" I hadn't considered that anything between us would last beyond our photo sessions. I was a temporary distraction in his life and he was the same to me. It started out that way at least. Has it changed?

"Something happened." He sits up straighter adjusting my weight in his lap. "You know I use an agency to find women to find, right?"

It's a raw confession that doesn't shock me at all. I do know that. I assume that he has on the number on speed dial and that he requests the company of women on a very regular basis. I don't have any ridiculous fantasy that he'd ever come out of his structured, very safe cocoon for me or anyone else for that matter.

"Women with fake accents," I correct him as I glide my hand to the tattoo on his chest.

"I called for one a few days ago."

My stomach drops into free fall mode even though I know that it's his reality. Why is there a hint of pain attached to the words when they come out of his mouth? Why does the confirmation of it hold more meaning than just the abstract knowledge of it?

"I couldn't fuck her." The chuckle that skirts the statement vibrates through his chest and into my body. "I actually told her that I needed to call her Alexa."

"You what?" I stifle my own giggle at the thought of him suggesting that to any woman.

"I was aching for you." I feel his cock spring to life beneath me. "It was the day after I fucked you. I thought if I fucked another woman, I'd wash it all away."

"Wash what away?" I know the answer. Ironically, it's exactly what I've been trying to do with Brighton.

"The need to have it again." His hand runs over my thigh and dives between my legs. "This again."

"You want to fuck me again?" I slide deeper into his embrace.

"And again and again." His lips skirt over my bare shoulder. "I'm not going to stop fucking you. I promise you that."

It was a promise that I was counting on. Maybe Noah Foster wasn't my rebound fuck. Maybe he was where I was supposed to be all along.

"Why are you going to New York?" Sadie stares at me as I try to cram yet another dress into my overnight bag. "You're just taking off without any explanation."

"I'm meeting a friend there." It wasn't entirely a lie. Noah had suggested that we travel separately. I tried to coax him into taking the train with me, but he shied away from the idea quickly. So it was going to be me, my overnight bag and a pile of magazines for the long ride from Boston to New York this afternoon.

"Do I know this friend?" Her brow cocks with the question. "Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Boy or girl?" I parrot back. "You spend way too much time with toddlers."

"Cory is smarter than most adults I know." Sadie's smile broadens at the mention of her four-year-old stepson's name. "If I had more details about this mystery trip you were taking, I might want to tag along."

"You need a break from the old ball and chain that is Hunter," I say jokingly. "I can't imagine what it's like being married to that man."

"It's heaven." She literally almost swoons.

I love how happy she is. I've secretly wished for my own happily-ever-after since I flew back from Paris four months ago to watch her and Hunter exchange vows. It was a simple, elegant wedding with just a few select friends. When I left Boston to jet back to Paris it was with a longing for a romance like Sadie's. Maybe that's why it was so easy for me to fall into Brighton's arms and bed. I want to be loved the same way she is.

"Did you pack enough condoms?" The sweet, innocent tone of her voice doesn't match the vulgarity of the question.

"Did you just ask me about condoms?" I rock back on my heels with laughter. "You're fucking hilarious, Sadie." The last statement is meant to sound facetious in a good way.

"No one fucks as much as you do, Alexa." The thin grin that she's trying unsuccessfully to hold over her lips is giving away her true intentions. "You better bring a few boxes with you."

"I'm staying one night." I hold up my index finger to reiterate the declaration. "Just one night."

"Two boxes should do then."

***

I'll meet you at the show. I'm running late.

I read the text message Noah sent me for the third time. My stomach flops at the words. I've been fearful since we planned this adventure that he would bail on me. I know that he hates leaving the sanctity of his apartment.

Please hurry. I don't want to see my naked ass alone.

I smile as I send the message back to him. I've already showered and dressed in the elegant hotel room that Noah had arranged for me. The last time I was in the city was with Sadie and we had stayed at a nice place, but this trumped that tenfold. The champagne that had awaited my arrival sat chilling and still unopened. I didn't want to pop the cork until I was back in this room, naked with Noah toasting to his brilliance.

I glance at the clock on my phone and realize that the doors to the gallery will be opening within the hour. It wouldn’t hurt for me to go there now, and stand across the street to watch all the people filing in. It's also going to afford me the luxury of seeing Noah arrive. He's wearing a tuxedo. Since I've rarely seen him in clothing all, I was looking forward to the image of that more than anything else.

I pick up my phone, toss it into my clutch,
and take one last look at myself in the elegant, understated black dress I chose for the evening and slip out the door.

"Champagne?" A stilted voice asks from my left.

I turn quickly to the image of a waiter, dressed impeccably with a silver tray resting on his palm. "Would you care for a glass of champagne?"

I pull one from the tray and nod a silent thank you to him. I down almost the entire glass in one swallow. It's more to temper my growing anxiety than to calm my anger. The show officially opened more than an hour ago and Noah has yet to appear. The canvases are all covered in creased, white sheets awaiting the unveiling which isn’t going to happen until Noah makes his grand entrance.

"Is this your first time at a Noah Foster show?" A strong male voice asks from behind me.

I turn and I'm instantly greeted with the handsome face of an older gentleman. His hand darts out to take mine. "I'm Ron."

"Alexa." I smile back as I press my palm into his. "It's my first time."

"You're in for a treat." The way he cocks his brow is a little too playful. The old Alexa, the one pre-Paris, would have flirted shamelessly with him. Any and all male attention fed my unending need back then. Tonight, I want the focus to be on anyone but me.

"I can't wait," I offer in a lie that is strategically woven into a smile. "Does he always do this type of elaborate unveiling?"

"Always." He nods. "Noah Foster never shies away from putting on a spectacular show."

The words feel foreign to me. Noah likes to put on a show? That doesn't fall into the realm of the Noah I know. That Noah hides within the walls of his apartment.

I scan the room again searching in futile haste for Noah's face. I'm instantly aware of how many women are in the space. They're all blonde, blue eyed and about the same height as I am. Not one of them is attached to the arm of a man.

"Are you part of the show?" This time it's a woman's voice who invades my thoughts.

I signed a non-disclosure agreement and the consequence of breaking that is an amount of money that I can't hope to earn in my entire teaching career. "No," I lie effortlessly. "I'm just here to see."

She studies my face with elegant grace. Her hair bobs lightly as she twists her neck towards the door. "He's always late for these things."

"Are you part of the show?" I wonder aloud. The way she's dressed and the diamond pendant floating around her neck suggests she can pay any fine that Noah might dish out.

"Not this show." She pulls a weak grin across her lips. "Last year's show."

I soak in her appearance. She's brunette, her eyes a rich golden brown. She's slightly older than me, but her beauty is unmistakable. I can't help but wonder whether her experience with Noah mirrored mine.

"Attention." I recognize the man's voice calling to the room as Ron's. "Noah has arrived."

The crowd bursts into a raucous round of applause as my eyes dart around the room, searching for the one familiar face I long to see.

My gaze is pulled back to the front of the gallery and Noah's tall frame encased in a perfectly, tailored tuxedo. I try to get his attention, my hand flying helplessly in the air, but his focus isn't on me, it's on all the adoring patrons of his show who are eager to see the unveiling of the images of my naked body.

The space is so small. I feel trapped within a promise that I made weeks ago. Sharing my body with Noah had been one thing, but now, I'm about to see it in all its bare glory on four foot tall canvases.

"I want to thank each of you for coming." Noah's smooth and deep voice fills the small space. "I have a special guest I'd like to introduce you all to before we unveil the collection."

My heart pounds. He's going to call me up there and then everyone will know that the body he's been photographing for the past few weeks is mine.

"He's my hero." The fondness in the words is unmistakable. "I've admired his work for many, many years and he's one of my dearest friends."

I pull my body to the left as I try and catch a glimpse of Noah through the gathering crowd. I'm relieved by the knowledge that his special guest isn't actually me, after all. Maybe I can escape this evening with my anonymity still in place.

"I’m thrilled that Brighton Beck is here to help me introduce my newest collection. This is Desire."

My stomach recoils at the sight of Brighton hugging Noah. The sheets drop, spotlights fall on each of the twelve canvases and my world collapses beneath my trembling feet.

My eyes scan the images as my heart fights to keep beating.

Each canvas is a different woman.

All blonde.

All nude.

All sprawled out on the same bed in Noah's apartment.

Each face raw with wanton desire.

Including my own. 

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VAIN – Part Two
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