Falling for the Family Heir

Chapter Two

Allegra was heading back to find Oscar and see how the show was going, but was distracted by one of the paintings that was tilting slightly. She grabbed the little step ladder hidden behind one of the decorative curtains. As she climbed, she heard a low, male voice in the other room. He spoke about the droplet technique that she had spent years working on. It was a rarely used technique because the time it took was commonly thought not worth it. But she had loved it because it did, in fact, add air to the piece. How would he know that, though? Then he repeated what she had just said to him to another one of the guests. A vapid female clung to every word. She rolled her eyes and laughed as she adjusted the chain the painting was hanging off of. Stepping back down, her heel caught, almost causing her to fall off the ladder.

"Damn it" she muttered.

She managed to keep from falling completely but she had scraped her hands on the ladder.

Atlas heard her exclamation, her unmistakable voice resonating through the gallery. He looked through the shutters of a separating wall, seeing the blonde inspect her hands. He was about to walk over to investigate when he heard a familiar voice.

"Atlas Cavendish, you dog." Oscar smiled widely at Atlas.

Atlas turned around and hugged Oscar, "Oscar. Fancy seeing you here."

Oscar patted Atlas on the back, "Came with a friend, you see. Very talented. Actually, you should meet her. Where is she?"

Oscar looked around for Allegra, "Ah, there she is."

Atlas realised that he meant that woman. He smiled, beckoning over a waiter and whispering something into the waiter's ear before joining Oscar. Oscar jovially introduced the two.

"Atlas, meet my friend, Allegra. She is an artist. Allegra, this is Atlas. He is…well, he might be God."

Oscar laughed and Atlas laughed with him. Oscar saw Allegra's bleeding hand, "Wench, what did you do now, you wild child?"

At that precise moment the waiter came with a first aid kit and handed it to Atlas. Turning towards Allegra, taking her hand, Atlas said with a straight face (hopefully), "I can take care of that for you, if you'd like?"

Allegra turned at the sound of Oscar’s voice, grateful for the reprieve, but she realized he was being followed by…wait, they were friends? Why was she surprised Oscar knew everyone? She was just about to ask the waiter for a towel or napkin when her hand was summarily taken and then he asked if it was okay. He solicitously cleaned her hand but touched underneath with his thumb stroking her. She actually held her breath. God. That had every nerve jumping. It felt like he was stroking right between her legs. Her eyes widened in shock...and then narrowed.

He bandaged up her hand, purposely caressing her skin as much as possible, trying to not come across as creepy. And by the look of the goosebumps on her hand, she was not against it. He looked into her eyes and caught her gaze with his. He wanted her. He wanted her in every way possible. He wanted to possess her, lick her, eat her, f**k her senseless, use her, know her. It almost drove him wild. Oh, he would have her. He stepped away from her but held the gaze.

Oscar jumped in, oblivious to the heat, "We should go visit your lounge and talk about Allegra's work, Atlas. I think you would be interested." Atlas nodded, "Great minds think alike."

"Great, let’s go!”

Atlas smiled fondly at Oscar’s ebullience, "Head down and ask for my driver. We'll go together."

The drive to his lounge was about ten minutes, but Oscar did most of the talking.

"Allegra, Atlas' lounge is just awesome. It is incredibly exclusive and, to be fair, mainly a sausage fest. But I just love to find an excuse to go there.”

Atlas escorted them both into the building. "Excuse me for a moment." He showed them in before calling Cindy.

"Cindy? Yeah hi babe. Listen. We've had our fun, haven't we? You have, I have. But babe, we have just fallen on flat ground. It's been tons of fun though, sweets. If you need a ride, I'll send a car over, OK? It's over, though. Thanks, doll."

Cindy was mortified and sounded a bit pissed. How typical! She had been warned that Atlas was a player but this was beyond the pale. She wore a thong for him!

Atlas went in to join Allegra and Oscar.

Allegra had never felt so irresponsible in her life. They were in the middle of one of the biggest moments of her career, and she had just walked out. But she had to admit the lounge was pretty intoxicating. Oscar breezed in and she followed, somewhat in awe, of the opulence of the lounge. Men were everywhere but Atlas took them to a corner and she sat opposite of him, silently watching.

Atlas ordered them all drinks, the bar special for today. Moscow mules, replete in actual copper mugs. Oscar looked at Allegra happily, thinking he was helping her massively.

"So Atlas. What are your thoughts in investing in art?"

The corner of Atlas’ mouth lifted in response to Oscar’s brazenness. Finesse in business negotiations was lost on Oscar, but luckily, that was a part of his charm. "I'm not against it. But I steer away from it. There is not much authenticity left. So why bother investing in something I don't believe in?"

Oscar seemed shocked, "But…its very lucrative. I thought it would be right up your alley."

Atlas nodded, "Yes, but not with the arts. It frustrates me too much. Art, music, theatre was all meant to be an escape. But now….now it's just overcommercialized s**t, Oscar. That gallery we went to? Only ONE painting was good. And people walk right by it. So, it's...it's just pure bullshit on a gold platter. Exhausting."

Atlas put his drink down on a coaster, but another man tapped Oscar on the shoulder before he could respond, excusing himself. It was just him and Allegra again, sitting opposite each other.

They both sipped, staring. Playing a silent game of who was going to speak first. She saw his eyebrow lift in acknowledgment of it. She captured her bottom lip to keep from chuckling but it snuck out anyway.

"Fine. Which painting did you like?"

He chuckled, taking another agonizing sip of his drink, ordering a whiskey sour before replying, "The same one you liked. It was…breathtaking actually." He smiled sincerely, "I saw you touching it."

Her breath caught at his words. Her whole body was on fire and she wasn’t loving that feeling. He had barely touched her but all she could think about were those elegant hands torturing her as he had his way with her. But what he was saying about her painting caught her off guard.

Clearing her throat softly, "How did you know? Did Oscar tell you?"

He frowned slightly in confusion, "Tell me what?"

He had to try and focus on her words consciously. Her whole body was screaming out to him, to touch, to explore. He gulped down his lust in the form of the well-timed whiskey sour.

She looked at his earnest expression closer. "You really didn’t know."

Her voice faltered. She smiled the first genuine smile at him since they stood by the Esquire. "I painted the Esquire. But I confess, you are the first person to decipher the droplet technique. I'm impressed. How did you know about that?"

He nearly dropped his glass, looking visibly surprised. He looked at her with a hint of softness in his eyes. "Really?" He smiled with some childlike innocence, "You just have to look at it closely enough and you could see it. Anybody with functioning eyes could have. It was genius and it was beautiful."

Her beauty increased a millionfold to him, knowing that she had painted that. He walked over to her and squatted by the arm of her chair, "It was poetry, Allegra."

He leaned in closer and whispered in her ear, "You're poetry. And I want you. I want to pound your sweet body into oblivion and make you feel a pleasure so intense, that you won't know which side is up."

Her lips parted in a soft gasp, eyes widening in sudden awareness. She couldn't help her next action. It was madness, but if so, then she was already lost in him. Her pink tongue licked his cheek, and she moved towards his perfect lips, his breath deliciously hot against her skin. She opened for him.