Ivory
"Where are you going?" Mom asks with endearment and sorrow both laced in her words. Where exactly, I don't know. I don't even truly want to see him at this moment, but my intuition is driving me. I don't want to work today, see everyone, interact with everyone. Not today. Not after what I just saw.
Continuing to busy myself with grabbing my things, I answer without looking at her, "I have to see him. Tell him. I have to." My words are quiet, unsure, as if I'm doubting myself before I even begin the task. Without turning around, I can feel her suspicious eyes narrowing at me.
"Ivory, are you telling me or yourself? You don't seem so sure about this," she asseverates sullenly.
Turning around to her, I snap, "I'm sure, okay? Just quit questioning me!" My eyes soften regretfully as she adverts her eyes from mine. "Mom, that's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I am just so shaken. I just... could you just... give me a minute?"
Mother's eyes knowingly nod, and she lets me leave the house without another word. Needing the fresh air, I decide to walk the block or two to the hotel. A pool of tears is tearing down its barricade that I am struggling to maintain. Slowly, my demeanor falls. As I near the building, I gulp down my trembling fear, not willing for others to see my breakdown. Not bothering to acknowledge anyone else, I hurry to the elevator. When the doors open on his floor, I scurry out and down the hall to his office. Without knocking, I fling open his door, and storm in.
"I want out," I announce.
Hunter stares up at me from his computer screen where he is typing rapidly. I wait apprehensively for him to say something... anything. His eyes darken, and he stands up intimidatingly. After running his eyes over my body, he breaks the silence. "Excuse me?" his voice is challenging, daring me to disobey him.
"I want out," I repeat, a bit more unsure of myself.
"Of what?" he inquires, taking a step forward.
"Of this," I answer gesturing around us. "I want the bet called off. I want out."
His eyebrows furrow, and his eyes turn to a dark slate. He is dangerously angry, but he's controlling it. "And why is that?" he asks, his voice eerily calm.
"I-I can't take it anymore," I stutter nervously, wringing my hands. "I want it to end."
Another step closer. "There's nothing I can do. You're mine now. All mine," he whispers, his voice lustful.
"I can't take the accusations. I can't have the business suffer. I can't do this. You deserve more," I say, hopeful that this will end.
The lust that filled his eyes is replaced with angst. My shoulders tremble, and my hands quake. "I want you and only you. I need you and only you. I plan on getting what I want, what I need," he promises before crushing his lips on mine. It doesn't take long until my body responds to his touch. My lips ferociously kiss him back, and my hands travel through his hair to rest by his neck. As soon as I respond, he pulls back. My hope plummets downward. With an assertive voice, he demands, "Ivory, don't ever talk yourself down, especially in my presence."
The memories of this morning return, pulling me deeper into Hell. "Why shouldn't I? There isn't anything special! You didn't seem to think so!" I shout, my volume rising with my fury.
"What makes you believe that? If I thought you weren't special, then why would I make love to you? Why would I start this damn bet?" he rages on, his voice competing with mine.
"You left me like I'm another one of your one night stands. This damn bet is stupid, and I want out!" I fume.
"I'm sorry, Princess, but you can't simply get out," he dictates. "I won't let you leave me that easily." His words send a ripple of shivers down my spine. It takes all my will power not to throw my arms around him.
"Damnit, Hunter! You can't make me stay!" I yell. There's no one that can rile me as much as Hunter can. He is able to make me the most irascible person in the universe, but he can be the water to my fire, the relief. He can annoy me to no end, but I wouldn't have it any other way.
"I take that as a challenge," he susurrates into my neck before leaving a trail with his lips up to my impatient ones. Fervently, our lips battle for control. Several moans ring out through his office. His touch fuels my burning flames as he claims my mouth as his own. After what seems like mere seconds, he pulls away. "Now you understand how much I need you," he declares before leaving me alone and forlorn.
I sit at the front desk of the hotel, tending to guests that enter. Not a ton of families has booked a room today, but that's mostly because it's the middle of the week. Without anyone for me to serve, I search through our computer to make sure no orders have been placed through our website. Empty. It seems as if I have no choice but to do nothing. As I lean back in my chair without work, the desk's phone rings, and I eagerly jump to answer it.
"The Clarion," I answer in a business-like tone.
"I'd recognize that voice anywhere, Ivory?" a male's voice replies.
Puzzled, I rack my brain, searching for a name for the voice but to no avail. My mind draws a blank. "I'm sorry, who is this?" I ask with confusion evident in my tone.
"Ryan Richardson at your service," he introduces himself with an arrogant pride.
"Oh, yes, I remember you," I recall the day at the hotel I was unfortunate to stumble upon him. I can feel the cunning smirk on his face as he thinks of my answer.
"Good because I remember you," he responds with a vulgar tone that causes me to shiver involuntarily.
"Sir, is there a reason for this conversation?" I ask, a bit miffed by his crude attitude.
After taking an unreasonable amount of time to answer my question, he finally speaks, "Princess, I'd like to book a room, your finest please." His use of the endearment that I have adjusted to brings the opposite of what it does when spoken by Hunter. As the words are uttered from Ryan, I feel as if I need to take several cold showers to rid myself of the filth.
"Sir, you should not call me that," I advise him, not taking too kindly to his choice of names for me.
A cool, malicious echo of laughter rings out. "Oh, but you have no problem when my brother calls you that," he slyly retaliates, an edge of bitterness defines his sentence.
Instead of retorting with an insulting name or two, I assure him, "Sir, I'll book your room right now. Is there any special requests?" As much as I want to abruptly end the call, I cannot.
"I want the room for one night only. Tomorrow I will be arriving around 6pm. I will be accompanied by a woman, so everything must be in shape. Oh, and one more thing, I want you to serve us our dinner," he deviously informs me with no doubt a leer grin on his face.
With my mouth agape, I concoct a sane reason of why I cannot possibly wait him and his lover. I can't plan to be sick, and he knows I work all hours. That's it! The wedding will finally serve of some use! "Sir, I'm sorry, but I will not be working tomorrow. Tomorrow, I am resigning due to my wedding," I state as if it were planned beforehand.
Ryan sighs and mutters a curse word. "Ahhh, yes. The wedding with my brother," he resentfully says.
Ignoring his comment, I pull the call to an end, "Sir, everything is planned, so if that is all." I'm pretty sure that pulling out my hair one by one would be more to my fancy than speaking with this man!
"Okay, Darling. Oh, tell Hunter I said hi," the fiend commands me before cutting the line.
Startled by his second name, I visibly shutter, and my mind travels back in time to him.
"Darling, I'm home!" his beastly voice calls through the house, welcoming me to my doom. There's no doubt that there is a slur to his words. He's been drinking.
Knowing the consequences if I don't answer, I speak up, "Honey, I'm in the kitchen." My anticipation skyrockets as his stumbling strides become closer. I meekly shrink into the counter as he rounds the corner. A triumphant smirk plays across his handsome face as he notes how scared I truly am. He takes a step forward, but I am stuck where I am due to the counter. When he is right in front of me, I begin to tremble violently. Aiming to soothe me but only becoming more formidable, he runs his index finger along my cheek.
"Hey baby, miss me?" he questions with a silk-like quality. I eagerly nod, not wanting to upset him further. "Pour me a drink darling," he demands with a tender tone. I turn around to face the counter where his alcohol his, and with quaking hands, I pour him a glass of the drink. He nuzzles my neck as I busy myself with the glass. When I turn around to hand it to him, there is a tear in my eye.
"You shouldn't drink this much," I voice timidly without meeting his eyes. I wince as the stinging pain of his palm meeting my cheek registers. "I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. I am just worried about you," I ramble, desperate to cover my mistake.
"Damn right you're sorry! You don't have any right to tell me when I should stop drinking, understand?" he orders sharply. I nod, waiting for the chastening that is sure to come. "Say it before you get your punishment," he instructs.
"I love you, Adam," I whisper feebly.
Furious, I slam the receiver down and exhale through my nose. The nerve of that man is suffocating. A soft chuckle causes me to look up startled. Hunter stands in front of the desk with a casual, amused grin on his beautiful lips.
"Who was that babe?" he asks as if his endearment is typical and doesn't set my body ablaze.
I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, "No one important." But Hunter knows better. He indolently rests his elbows on the counter and leans forward.
"It seems as if you were speaking to the devil by the way they got you worked up," he notes in a teasing manner.
I tisk my tongue indifferently. "He was more than the devil," I scoff. "Your brother called," I tell him.
Immediately, his eyes darken to a shade almost as black as midnight, and they turn vehement. I'm a bit terrified of his reaction, but I reassure myself that I did nothing wrong, so he cannot be mad at me. "What did you say to him?" he asks in a low, steady timbre that brings apprehensiveness.
"I asked what he wanted," I reply in a strong, bold voice. Hunter stares at me expectantly, signalling for me to continue. "He wanted a room for tomorrow, so I booked him a room. He requested that him and his lady friend are to be served by me, but I declined because I am resigning today," I tell him, feeling victorious that I did absolutely nothing wrong.
"Good babe. Don't be here tomorrow to tend to him. Let the front desk worker deal with him," he commands with high authority. I nod my head, already not planning on seeing the demon. "Let's go babe," he says warmly, calming down.
"Where?" I inquire, puzzled because no plans were set, and I'm not aware of any future meetings today. Still not knowing of the arrangement, I stand and stroll to his side where his arm possessively snakes around my waist.
"Dress shopping," he replies before smacking a kiss square on my lips. With a content smile, I walk in step with him to his awaiting car. With chivalry, he holds the passenger door open for me to climb in before entering his side. As we pull away, I grab my cell, and I inform Mom of our whereabouts.
"Mom's gonna meet us at the shop," I inform him as he makes a left. A deep red tint tinges my cheeks when he rests one of his hands on my lap and squeezes my thigh lightly.
"Sounds great," he approves without taking his eyes off the road.
Author's Note:
So we have the misfortune of speaking with Ryan again and Hunter and Ivory have a small battle for the nth time, but what can I say? Provide me with feedback of what you think! Comments and votes are so uplifting! (I favor votes a bit more!) Sorry if I am late replying to messages. Recently, I dropped my Ipod and cracked the screen again, so I am currently working on shipping it away to receive a new one! Patience is key!
QotC: Who do you think he is? (The man Ivory refers to.)