Chapter 2: Take My Virginity as a Breakup Gift

1666 Words
Lance loosens his grip on Andrea’s jaw and orders, “Open the gate and invite them in. We’ll give them a great welcome. After all, I have some news to announce.” He places his rough thumb on her mouth and strokes her rosy lower lip back and forth. “You brought them here,” he whispers, “I hope you’ll be able to endure the consequences.” Andrea smiles calmly and feels the maids tighten their grasp on her arms. They really do live up to their rigorous training; they always seem able to read their boss’ mind. Suddenly Andrea opens her mouth and bites Lance’s finger which is slowly tracing her lips. She is surprised because instead of gasping and taking his thumb back, he begins to slide it into her mouth as if nothing had happened, enjoying the pleasure of her soft tongue brushing against his fingertip. She frowns and uses the tip of her tongue to push against his finger as hard as she can, but the man plays a game of chase and retreat inside her mouth, and saliva begins to drip down the side of her lip. Instead of disgusting him, this scene provokes the man’s most primal desire. He wants to lick the sweet fluid at the corner of her mouth. One of the maids releases her grip on Andrea’s arm and offers Lance a golden tray with an embroidered, white silk handkerchief. Instead of taking the handkerchief to wipe his fingers, he ignores the maid and stares at Andrea with the utmost depth. “The man is a devil!” Andrea thinks, “But how can he be so enchanting at the same time?” Then he sticks his agile tongue out and slowly licks his thumb knuckle like he’s enjoying a nice ice cream. Andrea gasps. No wonder she once fell head over heels for him; few women could resist such a man. It’s almost a pity that she’s no longer the same woman who yearns for his attention and begs for his love. “I know you already have another woman in your life,” she says, “You should be happy about this divorce. I had good intentions inviting the press here to announce the news. It will be like a rehearsal for the announcement of your second glorious marriage.” He gives her a calculating smile, “Well then, since you’re being so considerate, I won’t let you down” “Good. The divorce is written in stone. Don’t change your mind or people will think less of you.” Knowing how prideful Lance is, she’s trying to manipulate him into guaranteeing the divorce. In private he can change his mind, but as soon as the press learns of the divorce he’ll be forced to stick to his word. “You don’t intend to talk to the press after today, do you?” he asks. “Of course not.” Lance nods and the maids release her arms. Andrea turns to leave the room. She wants to look her best for such an important press conference and she needs time to prepare. As she crosses the threshold, she turns around and says with ironic languor “By the way, last night was my first time. You can take it as my breakup gift to you.” Lance tilts his head and smirks at Andrea’s retreating back. Robert, the butler clears his throat, “Mrs. Hamilton’s been behaving very oddly lately. Maybe we should ask the doctor to check on her—” He’s about to say mental health, but quickly thinks better of it and swallows his words. “Odd?” Lance wonders. “It is odd. She used to be quite needy, always begging for my attention and affection. Once she even tried to make a scene by attempting suicide. Why has she changed so much? Why does she keep insisting on this divorce? Is it part of a new strategy to interest me?” Lance mutters coldly, “Let her feel smug about her hopeful little illusion. It’s nothing but a desperate power play.” Like flies she can’t shoo away, a group of maids follows Andrea back to her room. She strips and submerges herself in the large bathtub; rose petals float on the surface of the milky water. She asks the maids to bring her red wine. Twirling a rose petal, she watches the bathwater drip down her long fingers. If everything goes according to plan, tonight will be her last night at the Hamiltons’ residence. In the three years since she’s married Lance Hamilton, he has treated her with nothing but revulsion and disgust. He could barely stand the sight of her, let alone bring himself to touch her. Every effort she made to seduce him backfired, leaving him more repulsed than before. She reminds herself that all of that is almost over; in a few hours she will be a free woman, unrestricted by Lance’s capricious moods. A maid interrupts her thoughts, “Mrs. Hamilton, there’s a call for you.” Languorously, Andrea leans against the side of the tub and opens her eyes before putting the Bluetooth headset on. “We’ve confirmed that there’s a newly developed toxin in your blood,” a male voice says, “In excess, it can cause massive changes in personality, memory decline, and in serious cases even memory loss.” “Such a large accumulation of poison suggests ingestion over a long period of time,” the voice continues, “I recommend you check your food and personal things to see if they’ve been tampered with. And don’t forget to take your medication. It won’t necessarily restore your personality or partially erased memory, but it will help keep you safe for now.” “I don’t have to check because tonight is my last night at the Hamiltons’ house,” Andrea tells him. She ends the call and coils her fingers around the stem of the wine glass. She squints her lovely eyes and casually swirls the red liquid in the glass. The crystal shines brightly beneath the Swarovski chandelier. She raises the glass and turns to the camera on the wall. Only a p*****t like Lance would come up with the idea of installing a camera in the bathroom. She toasts him and the anonymous man who has been drugging her causing the drastic personality change and partial memory loss. Her pink lips mouth a silent “Cheers.” As if her marriage to Lance wasn’t horrible enough, now someone has been drugging her. “All the more reason to get the divorce!” Andrea thinks. Meanwhile, in the surveillance room Lance stares at computer screen with his sharp eyes. Her smooth and fair skin, like pure moonlight, is incredibly alluring as it slips out from beneath the milky water. He can’t help recalling the way she looked last night when she was beneath him. The intensity of the memory makes his blood run to a certain body part and he can feel it in his pants, hard as iron. He curbs the impulse to smash the screen showing the woman’s smug, smiling face. He prefers to wait to see what she’s playing at. The woman suddenly looks at the camera like she knows he’s spying on her from the other end. Mockingly, she mouths a single word: “Cheers.” He wonders what she’s thinking. Is she celebrating because she’s about to achieve her desire? Has his father pressured her into divorcing him? Or is this truly what she wants? Lance shuts off the screen. “Who is she speaking to on the phone?” “We haven’t found out yet,” Robert answers. “Then do it soon. If you can’t find the person, you can kiss your sweet life goodbye.” Lance’s calm, threatening voice sends a quiver down Robert’s spine. He lowers his eyes and hurries to answer, “I won’t stop until I find out.” Then he raises his head. He looks at Lance with speculation, “The maids say…” “What?” “They say that Mrs. Hamilton was talking to a man.” Impassively, Lance stares at Robert. Every aspect of Andrea’s life is supervised and organized for her. She doesn’t even make calls to the Aitkens without a maid present. Now his butler tells him a man has been talking to his wife? Two of Andrea’s maids walk in to report to Lance, “Mrs. Hamilton is finished with the bath. She asked me to bring this over to you.” The younger maid holds the phone with both hands and peeks at Lance with growing admiration and interest. Lance takes the phone. The screen shows a live video of Andrea getting dressed. Maids are helping her zip her dress. She is wearing a bright red, backless, lace mermaid dress which reveals the pale swells of her breasts. She has the kind of beauty that people go to war over: glowing skin, an hourglass figure, and a flawless face on which even her minimal makeup seems redundant. She is perfect. Then Andrea turns to face the camera. She intentionally pulls the front of her dress down and flashes her bare breast at the camera. Her lips, colored with retro red lipstick, pucker in a kiss to the camera. “My dear Lance, do you like it?” she asks.
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