Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Margot
“Iswear, if Jeff shoots down one more of my articles, I’ll scream. Just scream, in front of the whole entire office.” Griping about my editor may not be the best or most helpful thing in the world, but it is satisfying.
Pippa glances at me, reaching out to straighten my pink and black negligee that I’m wearing over a pair of ripped fishnets. “Jeff is a ghoul. Not only that, but I heard he tried to put the moves on Marie during the staff Christmas party last year.”
I grab a fistful of her filmy white dress. “Marie quit in January!”
Her expression turns pained. “I know. Jeff is really, really awful.”
“Ugh!” I say. “Just ugh.”
Pippa wrinkles her nose at the dank hallway we’re in. We’re definitely underground and the whole place smells like piss and a million stale cigarettes. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”
“Definitely. I’ve been here before. Come on.” Pulling her down the hallway, I turn the corner and stop at a thick steel vault.
She eyes the doorway uncertainly. “If you’re sure…”
Wrenching open the door; I slowly uncover a den of inequities. Loud pop music plays and the bass actually shakes me where I stand. There are few lights, mostly strobes here and there. As we head in, closing the door behind us, it’s obvious just how crowded the dance floor is.
Everybody who’s anybody is here right now. Excitement hums through my veins.
Pippa smiles at me, holding out a pill and a bottle of water. “Here.”
Biting my lip, I giggle. I take the pill, a little MDMA mixed with a tiny bit of powdered mushrooms. Just enough to make everything pretty, shiny, and fun. Swallowing it with water, I pass the water back to her. She takes a pill too, grinning when she’s done.
“Ready?” I ask.
“So ready.” She grips my hand and pulls me into the crush of people. The song changes and a female singer comes on, her voice like a siren’s call, pulling people onto the large dance floor. Around us, gorgeous people dance together and separately, some of them grinding on each other.
I let go and throw my hands in the air, celebrating my freedom and my body.
Pippa and I garner male attention immediately.
Everything is heady and pretty from the drugs: the lights seem a little brighter, everything much funnier than usual, and the cool beers that someone hands us seem to slide right down our throats.
I don’t let anyone get too close, though. One guy in particular keeps trying his luck and putting his hands on me again and again despite the fact that I dance away each time. Finally I’ve had enough.
I get close to his ear. His arms envelop me. I whisper to him. “I have a knife hidden in my garter. I will cut you if you touch me or my friend again.”
His eyes go big and he takes a staggered step back, raising his hands. I make a go away gesture with one hand and twirl, my negligee spinning out like a top when I do.
When I stop spinning, giggling and starting to feel the effects and the drugs pulsing their way through my system…
That’s the moment that I lock eyes with Stellan. His gaze is smoldering. His eyes are light blue, but they are searingly hot. Possessive, almost.
I shiver as he strides over to me. He doesn’t say a word. He just cups my face and pulls me close, leaning in for a kiss.
My breath freezes in my lungs.
My whole body tingles strangely.
It seems as though there is an odd electric current jumping between us, sparking as his lips draw closer to mine.
My eyes sink closed.
I push onto my tiptoes, needing his kiss like I need air to breathe.
Like a river running down to the sea, I rush to press my lips against his. And there is an immediate jolt of sensation. I clutch at Stellan’s shirt and his hands tighten on my jaw and hip where they hold me.
It’s perfect. A moment in time that is free of flaws.
Stellan crushes me against his body for a split second. I make a muffled sound, unable to speak. But if I could have, I would’ve said, yes.
More.
Please.
In the next second he seems to realize that he’s a giant compared to me. He lets go and steps back, his eyes still shining with intensity. The music pounds in my ears and slides through my veins.
“Hi,” he mouths.
I grin at him. “Hi.”
He nods toward a side room that Pippa’s distinctive red head is moving towards. I nod in agreement and he takes my hand, leading the way. As we sluice through the crowd, I marvel at the difference between our hands. His is a giant’s paw; mine looks petite and pretty holding his hand.
Feeling feminine isn’t usually something I’m interested in, but there is something about his sheer size that makes me blush. Is there a correlation between his massive height and the size of his cock?
That’s really a dirty thing for me to think, but could it not actually be true?
I giggle to myself as Stellan pulls me into a small side room.
The first thing I notice is that music is quieter in here; the second thing is that there are a bunch of old bench-style car seats strewn around.
Stellan leads me over to where Pippa, Erik, and Lars have already made themselves comfortable.
He releases my hand and sits down. I bite my lip and sit next to him, unable to keep my blush under wraps. Pippa looks at me and flashes me a grin, then leans back against Lars.
Only Erik seems on edge, constantly looking over his shoulder. What he expects to happen, I couldn’t say.
When Pippa pulls out her phone to snap a selfie of herself and Lars, Erik’s eyes narrow on her. She just rolls her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” she says. “I know the rules about photos, okay?”
That gives me pause. Why are there rules? What are they protecting, exactly?
I’m not quick enough with my questions, though. I blame the mushrooms. I just feel too good right now to start quizzing anybody.
Stellan clears his throat uncomfortably. “There are a lot of people in this club for a weeknight.”
Lars speaks up. “Especially for New York City. It seems like you all live to work.”
Bobbing my head, I lay back on the couch. My flop lands my head on his thigh. He tenses beneath me for a second, a little surprised.
“Is this okay?” I ask, peering up at him.
“Ja,” he says. He clears his throat again. “I thought that you Americans were all prudes, but I suppose I was wrong, eh?”
One corner of my mouth lifts in a mischievous smile. “I suppose you were.”
Everyone sits and talks for a little while. I just let the conversation flow around me. At some point Stellan starts stroking my arm.
I butt my head against his chest. “Mmm. I like that. Do it more.”
He obliges, running his hand up and down my arm and across my ribs. Somehow or other a beer appears in Stellan’s hand, then another when the first is finished.
When I sit up, Pippa, Lars, and Erik are gone. I notice that Stellan is looking at me like I’m a puzzle he can’t figure out.
“What?” I ask.
He mouth turns up a fraction and he shrugs. “I am just trying to figure you out.”
Pulling the skirt of my negligee down so I’m not flashing anybody, I fold my legs up on the couch.
“I’m not that much of a challenge, am I?
New York City, born and raised. Put myself through college at NYU, which is how I know Pips.
” I stop for a second, pushing my cheek out with my tongue.
“I’m a Cinderella story, where I’m both Cinderella and the prince.
” I grin. “I never had much of anything, which gave me a work ethic like no other. With tonight as being the exception, I guess. Pippa is here, so no work tonight.”
He smiles at that. “No, I guess that would make you a bad host.”
Eyeing him, I cock my head. “I don’t know that much about Danish people. But if I had to guess, you’ve never had to think about where your next meal would come from.”
Surprise looks good on Stellan. “Ja. You are right, Margot.”
I nod my head. “Yeah. That’s what I hope for, when I think about having kids someday. That they’ll never have to think about finding food or shelter.”
He looks a little taken aback, which is the only way I know that I’ve overshared. My face goes beet red. Before he can say anything, I pull out my phone, a handy distraction.
“Let’s take a picture together,” I suggest.
To my surprise, he’s hesitant. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Come on. Just for me. I want something to remember you by after you go back to Copenhagen. Ja?”
I imitate his accent on the last word. He grins at that, rolling his eyes. “Alright. How do you want me to sit? Like this?”
He adopts a silly pose, which makes me dissolve in giggles.
“Wait, just hold that…” Dropping in the frame beside him, I pull a face. “Okay, now a serious one…”
The song shifts, changing to a young pop singer that I unabashedly love. I grin, standing up. “Dance with me.”
Stellan stands too, glancing at the dance floor. “Are you sure you want to go out there?”
I step closer and pull at his shirt, looking up at him. “I wanna dance right here. Just the two of us.”
He smiles, his hands sliding down to land on my hips. “Okay, Margot.” He pulls me against his body, biting his lip as he looks down at me. His gaze is direct and intense; I almost get lost in his ice blue eyes.
“You are very pretty,” he says, cupping my cheek. I blush furiously and yet, I can’t look away. “Your hair…” His fingers move to stroke my hair. “And the way you dress…” He fingers the bottom of my negligee. “It’s perfect. You seem to be put together just to please me. Do you know that?”
I can’t even begin to figure out how I should answer that. A smile tugs at my lips. “Then there is just one thing you should do.”
One of his hands slips down to my ass. Electricity crackles between us. “What’s that, skatter?”
Skatter. I don’t know what it means exactly, but the way he says it is enchanting. I lean my head back, presenting my mouth to him, whispering my words. “You should kiss me.”
A dimple flashes in his cheek. He doesn’t say anything, but his hand that’s on my ass presses me closer. His cock presses into my belly.
My eyes widen just a bit at the sheer size of it. That can’t be real, can it?
At the same time his face lowers, his breath teasing my lips when he stops just a hair’s breadth shy of kissing me. It seems like the most natural thing in the world to close that gap, to push up on my toes and press my lips onto his.
His lips are hot and firm. There is an immediate sense of urgency, growing with every second. I curl my hands in his shirt, needing more. I want to sink into his mouth and never return.
I feel the roughness of his stubble against my smooth face. I feel the frantic beat of my heart against the loud bass beat of the club’s music. I feel his arms tighten around me, a python with its prey in its grasp.
I feel all of it, and I want more.
He deepens the kiss, bending me back a little. His tongue invades the cavity of my mouth, dancing with my tongue. He tastes so good, like mint and beer and male, under it all.
Stellan starts moving with me, swaying against me, dominating my whole body. At the same time he presses his hips into my belly again, grinding. I suddenly have a flash of exactly what Stellan is going to be like when we go to bed together.
Rough. Dominant. Hard. But I have a feeling that he knows exactly how to make me come, how to make me scream his name, over and over again until my voice gives out.
I shiver and crush myself against him.
All my secret cravings for someone like Stellan will be fulfilled. And the best part? After this weekend, he will vanish into thin air.
Poof.
I can be as uninhibited with him as I want. He’s the ultimate one night stand.
It’s hard not to bite his earlobe when I whisper in his ear.
“Let’s go somewhere private.”
Stellan smirks, that dimple flashing in his cheek again. “Come on. We should go back to my hotel.”
He takes my hand, leading the way. And I follow him, a rush of heady excitement sluicing through my veins.