Pleasure and Sin

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Hello, Sister!”

Why was this little snitch calling again? What does she want?

“What is it Roselle?”

“I heard you were on your way to cool off the fuming billy-willies in Paris. Enjoy the paparazzi, it's my gift to you!”

“Don't you think it's time to drop your childish tantrums and think like an adult?”

“You…”

“Come off, toddler. I know you're an attention seeker, but I'm busy with my life to care about you. Get your s**t together and stop crawling in my way, b***h!”

“Laurina!” She shrieked. I hung up and pushed through the crowd with Jack shielding me, the hotel securities were doing their best holding them off.

“Tell us what is going on!”

“Are you getting a divorce?”

“Is your boyfriend the reason you've been having miscarriages these all these years???”

I paused. Held my breath, shut my eyes for a few seconds while gritting my teeth to calm myself. The last question rang in my ear, so this is what Roselle meant when she called it a ‘gift’ earlier on the phone call. Using my pain against me? Such a loser.

I opened my eyes and heaved a sigh. My eyes met that of the reporter who stood a few feet from me, he was still holding his mic towards me, his eyes darting to catch up with every bit of mistake he was hoping to pick from me.

“Is this what reporting is about these days?” I queried.

“What?”

“Is this what reporting is about these days?”

Some of the reporters dropped their mic and pulled backwards, their heads hung low in indignation.

I pressed forward to gain momentum.

“David Stone,” my lips moved reading out his name.

“Reporters live for everything.”

“I see…”

I moved closer. He said everything, right? Let's create history then.

“Then, I have something to make a worthy headline for you…”

Without warning, I landed two resounding slaps on his right cheeks. He flinched, fell backwards air escaping his lungs, with one hand on his cheek and his microphone a few meters away, he sat still on the ground flummoxed and mouth agape.

The camera flashes went wild once again as the reporters regained their spark after being taken unaware. A slight smirk curled at the corner of my lips, a wave of satisfaction washed over me as I walked away.

“To the airport.”

The driver drove off the moment my words landed. Jack handed over some documents to me.

“These are the names of the investors you'll be meeting and their faces.”

I collected it without looking directly at him. From the corner of my eye, I could tell he was staring at me. His eyes moved to my wrist, I glanced at it as well; there was a bruise. Which was probably from the reporter's microphone while fixing his brain earlier. I recoiled my hand to avoid his preying eyes.

Jack drew me closer and straightened my hand. I tried to release myself from his grip, but he was stronger so I just reluctantly relaxed. He brought out an ointment and applied it lightly on my wrist, then gently plaster the bandage on the area I was grazing.

My eyes moved slowly and landed on his face; I loved the way his eyes sparkled even when he's pissed, his nose was well sculpted and aligned beautifully with his eyebrows, his thick eyelashes long and curly. Slowly, my gaze fell on his inviting lips. Damn!

I gulped. Gosh! How would it feel to be sucked with these lips? My p***y twitched at the thought of getting sucked by him, it would feel so good. The sight of his veiny hands sent warm sensations throughout my whole being; I wish he could just hold my waist with those hands and thrust into harder harder.

Then his eyes met mine. Jeez! What were you thinking, Laurina? I snatched my hand from his and sat back to calm my wandering thoughts. He stared at me for a while and looked away.

The atmosphere of the city bathed with an exuberant mixture of shadow and glow welcomed me the moment I stepped out of the airport.

“Paris…” I muttered and sniffed the air around me, letting myself embrace the warmth that sieved through the lights.

It felt like my soul was free as I stood thousand of miles away from the people that watched me in disdain while plotting my downfall through every step I took. As for Charles, I'll make him pay for treating me like a rag.

The drive to the hotel was calm. The warm glow emanating from the streetlamps cast a buttery light over the cream-coloured Haussmann building making the ancient architecture look alive and soft. The aroma of freshly cooked bread from a faraway bakery breezed past my nostrils.

“Mercí,” Jack said, shaking the chauffeur that dropped us at the hotel.

“You speak French?”

“Ouí. I grew up here with my mother.”

“Oh. It's not in your CV.”

“It wasn't necessary.”

The hotel staff rushed out to handle my luggage and guided me to my room. It was the hotel I frequented whenever I had a business meeting in Paris.

“Bonjour Madame, bienvenue à l'hôtel Red Monument, nous sommes ravis de vous accueillir,” one of the staff greeted with a brilliant smile on her face.

“They're welcoming you.”

“I know,” my response was cold, but I didn't care. Facing the staff, I smiled calmly and responded, “Mercí.”

I sank into the couch. Nothing felt new, just my regular room always preserved for me. There's a family hotel here in France but I stopped lodging there because I was always spied on by the people my father and my half-sister sent to spy on me.

Taking the second shots of Armagnac that was brought in as room service when I refused the dinner that was brought earlier, I hummed along to the classical French music Passacaille that was playing on the record in the background.

Such a perfect moment.

“À la santé de l'esprit des affaires et de la vengeance !”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“Nothing. You can take a break, we'll leave the hotel very early.”

He shrugged and walked towards the door. He is impatient. Can't he see that I feel lonely? Why is he in such a haste to get out?

“Jack…”

He turned and walked towards me.

“Is there something you…”

I grabbed him by his collar and kissed him so long and hard. He didn't push me away and didn't reciprocate, he must be offended.

The silence that followed stung, it was as if I had been buried in a hollow pit. My stomach felt as if everything within me had sunk into a deep pit, a wave of toxic crimson spread over my collarbone and a rush of livid red painted my cheeks as the last shred of my dignity vanished into the abyss. I withdrew and turned away from him.

He grabbed my arm and pulled me in, his face close to mine and I could hear him breath huskily. He stared at me, his gaze low and sensuous, his blue eyes piercing my soul and making me want more, then his deep voice raspy breathed in my ear, “You started this, let's end it,” finally wrapping my lips with his.

Kissing every part of me like I was his last supper, my breath hitched. He swirled me around and pinned me to the wall, his hands moving under my shirt.

“I want you to suck my p***y, Jack.”

He moaned as I slid my fingers down his trousers, frantically unbuckling his belt and grabbed his c**k. It was so hard. Gosh! I want this so bad. I could feel the slime ruining my panties, my wet p***y twitching recklessly. Why does he make me so wet?

I gasped as his fingers circled my n****e.

“Please f**k me. I want you.”

“You're so annoying. If you want my c**k beg for it.”