Chapter 5: Hypnotised

Sarah finds herself in a world she never dreamed existed, as the elusive Darius, begins to reveal his secret identity...

Chapter 5: Hypnotised

I love this town!

On our way to the bar, the limousine pulls up at a set of red lights where a male hooker with large Shania Twain style hair, wearing a short sparkly black mini dress and thick blue eye shadow, leans in through the open window.

"Wanna f**k for a hundred?" He asks in his burly voice.

"No thanks, I'm not that kinky nor nearly drunk enough!" I giggle and he flips me the middle finger.

"Frigid hoe-bag" he barks as the car begins to move again, leaving him behind and cursing on the sidewalk.

Isn’t LA fantastic!!!

The driver pulls up outside the entrance to a bar adorned with stone masonry style walls, and a large heavy, wooden and cast iron door; the type that was seen around the medieval era of castles and Kings.

Standing, guarding the fort, are two tall, buff, bald and heavily tattooed gentlemen, both are wearing identical tight black tank tops, dark cargo pants and army style boots. They can easily pass for brothers as their features are similar in many ways. The one exception being that one has tanned olive skin and the other has dark velvet, like milk chocolate; both are terribly big and scary. They are in charge of security at the main door, crowd controlling the long cue of well-groomed people waiting outside for an opportunity to enter the popular establishment.

Upon exiting the car, I walk the red velvet carpet feeling like a movie star, with photographers flashing their cameras at me from all directions, behind their appointed yellow line, where they must strictly stay. If I were them I wouldn’t step over that line either, not if I didn't want those two big bullies to go all commando on my arse.

“Name please” a lady dressed in a long, curvy, white satin number with blond, wavy, shoulder length hair draped casually around her face, stands gazing at me with her deep penetrating grey eyes, awaiting my reply.

“Oh. Umm, it’s Sarah Montgomery but…” I'm about to say that I'm not on the list. How can I be? I'm not a VIP. I'm not anyone special. I'm ready to turn and join the end of the line when -

“Okay, you may proceed, have a good night.” She points a slender finger in the direction of the bar. I look back at the people behind me, wondering how long they've been waiting on the sidewalk for. I hesitate, considering telling the truth, that she has obviously got my name mixed up with someone else that's similar. I eye the beautiful woman in white nervously, who sighs at my awkward delay. I sense that she's starting to become agitated having to wait for me to leave, so that she may continue with her work. Looking back once more over my shoulder at the bored crowd, I make an impulse decision to not correct her mistake, and hurriedly walk inside.

As I pass under the stone canopy, with thick dark stained beams covered in ivy, I am able to get a glimpse of what awaits me inside the luxurious club. I can't help but think of the pubs back home in Perth, and how they look nothing like this! I don’t even think we would call this a bar back home, more like a sophisticated member’s only club. From out here, I can't see a pool table, juke box or burnt-out bar maid in sight, and there's certainly no funky aroma from years of built up spew and urine dredged into the carpet, clouding the air, lurking in the entrance way to hit me in the face the moment I cross the threshold. 

No, this is something entirely different. This place screams, ‘LA’s most exclusive hang out; reserved only for the rich and famous’.

Passing through the large archaic wooden doors, I begin to understand exactly how Alice must have felt when she first entered wonderland. The sponginess underfoot from the luxurious soft white woollen carpet, leads me down a short corridor, underneath a canopy of brilliant crystal chandeliers to the open main room. The massive feature wall on the far side of the room is covered in a pearly white fabric, with intricate patterns of black velvet damask, casing the entire walls surface. It is adorned with images of erotic art deco. Marble statues of naked muscular men and petite busty women featured in provocative dominatrix style poses, are positioned around the room.

I pause, both in shock and awe of the masterpiece closest to me which demonstrates a man on all fours polishing a female’s clitoris with his extended tongue. I am interrupted in my ogling by a young woman with 1940’s style slicked back, fiery red hair, full ruby lips and dark green eyes. Her pale skin is sweetly scented with my favourite, j'dore, Christian Dior perfume and she's wearing a velvet body hugging, floor-length scarlet dress that accentuates her décolletage erotically, the fabric just covering her feminine attributes. She places her head gently on my right shoulder with one hand poised on my lower back, the other hugging at my midriff.

“Isn’t it fabulous?” Her voice is husky yet contrived.

“Oh” her presence, and the lack of personal space startles me. “Umm, well fabulous is one word for it I guess; or another could be - bizarre?”

The upper-class American lady doesn't respond as expected. She tilts her head so that I can feel her cool breath on the hollow of my neck, her big emerald eyes, gazing into mine. My heart prematurely starts beating faster. I pray that she doesn't try to kiss me, or else I may offend when I'm forced to decline the offer.

“Bizarre” she mirrors my assumption, “how so? “

A lump begins to build in my throat. The un-comfortable distance between us is narrowing as she pushes her br***ts firmly into the back of my shoulder blades, the contours of her body spooning mine, and the grasp of her arms around my torso, becomes tighter. Her other hand softly brushes my neck and adjusts my head ever so slightly, tilting me to the side so that my ear is closer to her protruding lips. She is so close that I can feel them brush against my skin and I can smell the sickly sweet aroma of her breath.

“Well -” I try and focus, but my voice is becoming shaky and awkward.  “It’s not exactly what one expects to see when walking into a bar.”

She chuckles lightly, amused by my answer.

“I see, and how does it make you feel?” She purposely emphasises the word by whispering and drawing it out.

I expect my heart to jump out of my chest cavity, caused by the sheer adrenaline pumping through my veins. I'm angry that she has the audacity to be so obtrusive. About to protest her advances, I am prohibited by an un-expected calming sensation that washes over me.

Suddenly I'm lost in my own body, numb, emotionless and frozen.  Something's come over me. A supernatural entity that I cannot fight. Her power is intoxicating and the temptation to yield to her desires is indisputable. I can't move. My body is no longer under my own control and I start to panic silently, my mind being the only responsive part of my body.

The words I speak next aren't my own. I'm merely the puppet and she is my master, oppressing my own will and keeping me tame.

“It makes me feel…dirty.” I answer mechanically, even if the voice does resemble mine, it's not. This is forced, unnatural and out of sorts. She's merely using me as an instrument, speaking through me, without consent.

Moving her hand down between my thighs, my temperature automatically spikes.

I try my hardest to fight the numbness; to regain some control over my emotions, but my attempts are futile.

“Tell me more” she whispers innocently, as though this is acceptable behaviour. The lull in her sweet voice commands me to divulge information of a sexually explicit nature. “Tell me all the wicked things you would like me to do to you?”

She kisses the indent of my neck, causing goose bumps to explode over my entire body like a wild rash. I'm desperately trying to fight the urge to give in and not surrender the answer she demands.   

I want to scream out for the torture to stop, but my efforts are useless. Something dark and compelling is overpowering my ability to take back my self-control. My body breaks out into a cold sweat, and my knees threaten to give way under the pressure of this unnatural power-play. Her force becomes stronger, toying with my willpower, of which I am desperately losing the battle. 

“I want you to…” I begin to speak the words involuntarily, but am quickly stopped. Pulled from her unescapable grasp, an angry male voice, whose influence commands the highest respect, intervenes. 

It's Darius.

“Celeste, let her go.” His voice is furious, but low enough to not gain any unwanted attention.

The woman isn't startled by his vicious attack, instead she laughs at him with a playful, cheery disposition. Instantly I'm released from her lure, allowing me to regain control of my emotions.

“Oh Darius,” she teases and strokes her finger delicately over his cheek, “You do get possessive over your little pets don’t you?" Her voice hisses with jealousy, but I can't fathom why she could possibly be envious of me, not when she is clearly the most beautiful woman in the room, possibly even in existence. 

"I was only playing with her. It’s not like I would have done anything,” She looks back coyly at me, licking her lips as though the thought of possessing me is mouth-watering, “not here anyway.” She chuckles darkly, and I cower under her hungry glower.

“That’s enough” Darius growls once more, causing Celeste to whimper in pain at the sound of his livid voice. A look of remorse briefly washes over his face, and his tone changes from heated, to lenient, within seconds.

“Be gone with you” he waves a hand in the air to dismiss her.

She doesn't reply. Ignoring his frustration she twirls daintily around, unaffected by his officious attitude, purposely whipping him in the face with her hair as she leaves. I can't help but assume that it's more of a subtle warning than retaliation, to not speak to her like that again.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as if to focus and regain control of his temper. Opening them again moments later, I swear they seem darker, but begin to loosen around the edges as he calms down. Finally they once again resemble the emerald green I have come to adore. I second guess what I've just seen. My eyes do have a bad habit of playing tricks on me.

“I apologize. Celeste can be somewhat callous, when left to her own devices.”

“That's an understatement." I shiver, recalling the lack of self-control I experienced under her forceful influence.

"A friend of yours is she?” I snap, sarcastically. I'm not impressed in the slightest by the company he keeps.

“Yes, an old friend who sometimes over steps her boundaries, but she has always been honest with me, and is very loyal”. He attempts to defend her inexcusable behaviour.

“Loyal? You make it sound like she's your possession.” Suddenly I'm furious. The anger that’s been building inside of me is now threatening to spill out into a full-blown argument.

He chuckles lightly at my observation. “No. Not in the slightest. I can’t imagine that any man can keep her under his control, not for a second.” He laughs even harder at the thought.

“Funny” I reply sarcastically, not a hint of humour in my voice.

“Oh come on Sarah, no harm done."

He pauses to assess my demeanour with a cautious expression. I'm not sure if he knows about her hidden talents of manipulation or not. Maybe he does and has realised that I know too? Perhaps I'm not supposed to know? Perhaps it is some big secret between the two of them?

I shake my head, and discard the thought that there is something unnatural about Darius and his friend. I have to stop thinking the unthinkable, before I completely freak myself out with unfathomable implications which can't possibly be true? Can they?

"After all, I did rescue you before you started ravaging each other. I must say, I didn’t think you were that way inclined -”

His attempt at a diversion has worked, “I’m not!” I protest.

“Of course you’re not." He wears a crooked grin, "Celeste has a way about her that makes even the most devoted of heterosexual women have homosexual desires.”

“But I didn’t -” before I can finish defending myself, Darius has already started to walk away in the direction of the bar. I have to almost break into an Olympic sprint to keep up pace with him. Suddenly, without warning, he comes to a dead halt in the middle of the floor and I slam, head first, into the back of him.

'Ouch, that hurt', Darius, whose body is hard as a rock, is un-phased by the collision. He must be really toned underneath the tight black tee and dark Levi jeans, for him not to even flutter an eyelid. It won't surprise me if I get a bruise on my head. It feels like I've had a head-on collision with a concrete wall.

“Drink?” he hands me a flute of champagne from the waiter carrying a silver tray. I'm confounded by his ignorance. Seriously, he can't be so tough, that he can't feel any pain at all - can he? Perhaps arrogance abounds him? Maybe I have him wrong? Maybe he is more like his conceited female friend, than I first thought? I try again to argue the point about Celeste and her unusual powers of persuasion, but my attempt is thwarted once more by his uncouth interruption.

“A toast, to our new business partnership,” Raising his hand as though he's holding an imaginary champagne glass in the air, he taps my filled one with his hand, and pretends to take a good swig of his non-existent beverage.

“But you don’t have a drink in your hands!” I merely state the obvious.

“Of course! I told you I don’t drink.”

Darius is definitely a strange man, and his jokes are deplorable. However, his ridiculous sense of humour is amusing in a silly way. He actually thinks he's funny, which makes me smile.

“Now, that is beautiful.” His penetrating eyes are gazing deep into mine.

“You look like the first sunrise when you smile like that.” He's staring down at me in awe. I can't comprehend why he is so smitten with me? I shyly look down at the floor. My cheeks burn with embarrassment at his unashamed pick up line.

“Don’t be shy, you have a wonderful smile " it’s a compliment; for one so pretty, I assume you would be used to them” he pauses, for what seems like an eternity. Curiosity is etched onto his brow, and he places a single finger on his plump, luscious bottom lip; tapping it repeatedly and yet still, he does not speak.

I shuffle from foot to foot, and look down at my black heels - perhaps I should have gone with the silver strappy ones instead? Maybe I should have asked Mario to style my hair down instead of pinned back with curls?

Gosh, is he still looking?

I dare to sneak a peek. His eyes are focused solely on me and my awkward fidgeting. His inquisitive glance has been replaced by that of desire. His eyes are bright with hunger, and he sighs heavily, folding his arms across his chest.

“I have changed my opinion of you,” he continues, his voice dark and mysterious, very self-assured.

“Come again?” My heart does a double kick. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous around him and why his opinion matters.

“You are an enigma, wrapped in an enigma.”

I don't like the way he speaks in riddles. It confuses me, which I find frustrating to say the least. “What do you mean?” I demand, without actually raising my voice. I hope I was successful at sounding confident?

“With you, Ms Montgomery, I believe things aren’t as they seem. On the surface you wear the mask of a strong, independent woman, but underneath you are quite the opposite. Perhaps this is a defence you use to guard yourself from getting emotionally hurt?”

I am dumbfounded, paralysed all over. How on earth could he possibly know me? Especially when I try so hard to keep my past hidden.

No way am I going to crumble under Darius or any man ever again. I can't. I won't. I've come too far to let everything slide now. I just need to compose myself, play it cool.

“Sorry but I think you have me confused with somebody else.”

“Ah, well that is a shame. My apologies” he bows his head slightly in a show of respect, a brief look of sadness washes over his angelic features.

“That’s ok”. I breathe out, releasing my pent up reservations. My body automatically relaxes in response now that I'm not in the firing line.

“It’s just I have this talent, that usually lets me feel a person’s true self.”

“Really?” I reply sarcastically, folding my arms across my chest, in a desperate attempt to stay in control. I feel the uneasiness creeping back up, inside me again.

“Really -” He seems very self-assured, and I start to panic again. I have to remind myself that he's just talking bull-s**t. There's no way he can know me as we hardly know each other. I'm not going to be intimidated by him and his silly little game. 

“Well, I beg to differ." I chortle, "On our first meeting you called me a b***h, but now you think I’m the opposite? When you keep predicting what a person could be like, it’s not hard until you eventually guess right. That’s not a talent, that’s just perseverance.” 

“Right, well when I first met you, I didn’t attempt to read you because..." he pauses, now he's the one feeling embarrassed, his voice quietens, but it doesn't stop him from speaking the truth "You took my breath away -”

He moves closer to me, his confidence is returning in droves, whilst I cower and sink inside myself. What I really want to do is take a step backwards, but I know that will only fuel his ego. So I stand my ground and hold my head up high, contrary to the anxious mess I am inside. He takes another step forward.

He's only centimetres from me now. If I reach out I could place my hand on his defined chest. The sweet smell of his cologne fills my senses. My knees begin to weaken, and I have to swallow the lump that has built in my throat. My heart starts beating erratically, and I'm finding it difficult to breathe. It's easy to predict what he is going to do next. He's going to try and kiss me, I just know it! I'm going to fall apart right here, into a million pieces, in his arms.

But I've come so far over the years to prepare myself for such a moment. I can't let this happen. I won't let myself get hurt again. I have to stop this, before it goes any further.

“Now -" I interrupt, taking a deliberate and lengthy step back, as much as the tight fitting dress will allow; all the while not breaking contact with his burning stare. I almost lose myself - it' so easy to be complacent around him. But that’s how hearts get broken. When you trust someone, you let your defences down and that’s when you become vulnerable. Well, not me. I need to stay focused, my attempt is mediocre at best, but the words convincingly leave my mouth anyway. Despite my reservations, I am pleased with my efforts.

"I am your manager and you are my client. We have a professional relationship, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

Deep down I regret every word. My heart has never felt this way - not for any man before, not like this. But I have no choice. I have to keep this professional. Anything else will be inappropriate and will only complicate things, not to mention, it's risky getting involved with the employees.

Darius moves back, creating a greater distance between us, which allows my anxiety to ease. I was too nervous before to acknowledge the chemical reaction in my body to his closeness. The tightening; deep in my belly relaxes, and I'm left feeling empty and disheartened. But this is the right thing to do, I think?

“I understand” he responds curtly, and politely breaks eye contact.

He's finally getting the message. Anything on a private scale isn't possible between us. But the final stab of rejection would confirm things for him, just in case there is ever any doubt.

“Thank you for the gifts -" I whisper, trying to sound as convincing as possible, but inside I hate myself for doing this to him.

"But in future, please don’t feel the need to serenade me, your advances will not be returned.”

His uneasy smile carries an air of disapointment. I feel horrible. I'm a terrible terrible person. He's hurting, I know this. It's exactly why things can't be allowed to progress further.

“I understand, but I didn’t buy them for that reason. If I’m going to be photographed by the paparazzi I would rather be standing next to someone who looks important. Image is everything in this business, as you well know.”

I'm instantly deflated, like a big balloon that's just had a pin put to it. I thought the gifts had been because Darius liked me, but I was wrong. How stupid of me, to think that he thought of me in that way. I almost fell for the whole disappointed look too. He's clearly just a man with needs. There is nothing more to it than sexual chemistry.

“So the jewellery? -” I spit angrily; my ego has taken a pounding and is trying desperately to recover some dignity. Who on earth would buy someone something from Tiffany's if it wasn't to impress them? It's just absurd!

“Just for photographic purposes.” He abruptly brushes off my interrogation.

“Right, well I’m glad we got that all cleared up. But there is one thing. The other night when you took me back to the hotel -"

“I’m sorry, I have to stop you there” he raises his hand in the air, “I think I know where this is going and don’t worry, nothing happened between us. I would never take advantage of a woman in your state. Although it was a little amusing when you chucked your knickers in my face and called me a sexy tiger.” He chuckles darkly.

“What?” I'm positively horrified.

“You were like a vixen! Did you know you get quite aggressive when you’re drunk? If I hadn’t left when I did I think you would have tried to hump my leg…actually correction, you did try to hump my leg. It was, how can I put this? An experience I will never forget.”

“Oh - no.” I put my head in my hands.

“Yes”

“No, no, no” I shake my head back and forth in horror. I know exactly what I’m capable of when I’ve had a few too many. I've been referred to in the past as a cougar gone wild, even though I am still young - ish.

“Yes, you did!” he laughs harder, amused by my stunned expression.

“But don’t worry, I wasn't offended. Actually you were very entertaining.”

“I’m so sorry.” I place my hand either side of my face, and shake my head, trying to apologise and make a mends for my inappropriate behaviour. But what I really want to do is dig a deep hole and jump in it.

“Don’t ever apologise for being yourself. Witty, beautiful, charismatic and well…just plain crazy”

“Crazy?” I shriek. Great, is that how he sees me? Wow, really professional. Good one Sarah!

“Yes, crazy. You try and act smart, like you have it together, but you keep doing such amusing things.”

I burst out laughing, he's right. The tears begin welling in my eyes from laughing so hard. Darius is in hysterics too.

After a few moments, we are both able to calm ourselves. Staring openly at each other, the silence growing between us isn't awkward, but still my heart begins racing, as I look into the depths of his glistening eyes.

A single second, is how quickly it takes for me to realise I have feelings for this beautiful man standing before me. Darius means more to me than a client or even a good friend. I’m kicking myself for letting this happen. How stupid am I, to let down my guard, allowing me to fall like this, deeply and unconditionally in love with him. But professional protocol says that we simply can't be anything more than this. So I shall suffer in silence, keeping these overwhelming emotions inside of me, locked away. He can never know how I really feel. Serves me right, allowing this to happen. I shall love him in my dreams, but never in reality. From this moment on, every time I see his lovely face, I will be tortured a little more. I can only dream about us being together, knowing that the possibility of anything more, can never be.

“How about another drink?" He breaks the silence first. I think it's adoration in his voice and eyes, but I can't be sure. I swear he knows exactly what I'm thinking. "Wait here, I'll get you a cosmopolitan.”

“That’s my favourite, how did you know?” I smile, puzzled. No barricades exist between us now. We're free to talk loosely, without any reservations or constraints. It feels like I've known him my whole life, and after some time spent apart, we've finally found each other again. 

“I told you, I know everything. It’s my talent, remember?” He smiles angelically, cheeky, lovingly and needing. All the while his infinite stare never leaves mine. He does this to me; makes me giddy and weak at the knees.

“Actually, you told me repeatedly last night!" He quickly adds, before turning away, "I'll be back -" Unwillingly, he walks off in the direction of the bar.

Lost in thoughts of adulated fondness for my new client, I fail to notice the fiery red head standing quietly beside me.

“You sure seem to be his flavour of the month.” Celeste's voice is smooth and provocative in my ear.

“Oh, it’s you." I scoff, taking a step sideways, away from her.

"Look, I don’t know what kind of voodoo you did on me back there, but I’m not into you like that, and I certainly don’t appreciate being felt up against my will!”

She smiles crookedly, exposing a set of perfectly gleaming white teeth.

“I'm sorry for that. I didn’t realise who you were. It’s just you're the first person to say my artwork is bizarre. Everyone is always saying to my face how much they love it. Blah, blah, blah. But you, you gave me your honest opinion and that makes me…" I start to feel a small shred of empathy towards her…"horny.”

All pity gone! She proceeds to smell my hair, so close that I can feel her breath on the back of my neck, the fine hairs stand on end, and I involuntarily shiver.

“You’re the artist?” I ask, hoping that my inquisitive nature will deter her advances.

It works. She moves slightly to the side before replying. “Oh yes darling, I take people’s darkest fantasies and make them a reality for everyone to enjoy.”

“Wow, you’re really good.” I must try and keep this conversation flowing for as long as possible - or at least until Darius returns.

“Like my work do you? Just imagine what I can show you in the bedroom. All the things I'd like to do to you." Her weight shifts to the other foot as she leans her body into me.

"I know what he sees in you." She looks me up and down approvingly, "You are the essence of sex.”

“Look, I’m not that way inclined” I pull away, frustrated by the lack of personal space between us and her unwanted advances.

“So you keep saying. Not to worry, you shall be the inspiration for my next masterpiece. Hope you don’t mind?”

There is obviously no way I'm going to win an argument with this woman.

“Sure” I reply in defeat.

“Good. Then it’s done.”

There's a shared silence for a moment. Celeste is eyeing me inquisitively, perhaps trying to think of how best to portray me in one of her erotic sculptures. She makes me uncomfortable, mumbling 'yes' and 'hmm' and 'ah' under her breath, all the while, her head keeps moving in conjunction with her eyes, up and down my frame. I dare not move a muscle, in fear that the slightest angle may convince her to interpret a certain sexual pose. I purposely remain slouched. She can't possibly get sexy from my relaxed, hunched posture.

Suddenly her eyes widen with enthusiasm. I can feel the heat redden my cheeks - it's definitely time to change the subject.

“How do you know Darius?’’ I blurt out, only realising after the words leave my mouth that I'm actually shouting at her. I can't help it, she makes me nervous.

“Why, are you jealous?” her eyes light up, but by her continued evaluation of my body, I realise that the reason for her excitement is not in response to her query.

“No, it’s just a question” I shake my head in denial, my brow furrows in frustration.

“Small talk, right?” She winks as though I'm hiding some big secret. “Ok, I’ll play along. Let’s just say that I’ve known Darius for a while. We are great friends as well as business partners.”

“Come again?” This is news to me. Darius hasn't mentioned anything about Celeste before. If she is somehow involved in his music career, be a musician recording on the album or his artistic advisor, as his manager, I'm entitled to know everything. Especially if I have to work alongside this outrageously brazen woman.

I'm ready to dispute her involvement in Darius's music career, but she boldly interrupts.

“He owns this bar. He lets me display my artwork, my artwork attracts people. It’s a win-win situation.” Oh thank God she isn't a band member. I sigh in relief. I didn't realise until a loud whooshing noise leaves my lungs that I haven't been breathing. I was too busy fuming over Celestes involvement, to consider my basic survival instincts! Once liberated by the good news, I do a double-take on what she said - did I hear right?

“He owns this club?” I gasp.

“Bar "" She corrects me. "Can’t understand why he wants to do this ridiculous music thing. It’s not like he needs the money. Didn’t he tell you? He’s LA’s hottest asset?”

“No!” He didn't tell me that. Darius is a dark horse. A highly successful one at that! I wonder why he didn't mention this to me?

Feelings of inferiority begin to wash over me. How can I possibly compete with that? I'm merely a music manager, and a mediocre one at that. Darius is just too…too…well, he's simply too good to be true! There's no way he's interested in me. How can he be? 'LA's hottest asset', that’s what Celeste said. I thought standing in his shadow would be hard enough, but now I feel like a baseball player at night time, stuck way out in the outfield. There's no chance, not in a million years, that Darius De'Valie will look twice at me, not when he's LA's most successful bachelor in a town filled with supermodels. Oh, and he's soon to be famous, and have girls throwing themselves at him. I don't stand a chance.

“Oh don’t be glum sugar. He’s just a very private person.” Celeste is very observant, or maybe my deflated body language has given me away?

“But he owns a bar?”

“Yeah, a cliché right? I don’t know why he bought this place. Bar owners are supposed to be socialites by nature.” She chuckles lightly, and I understand her humour. Darius isn't exactly the most talkative person, he admitted that flaw himself.

We nod and smile collectively. It's quite refreshing to have a normal conversation with Celeste that doesn’t involve sex. When she isn’t distracted, she's quite a pleasant person to talk to.

“So tell me sweetie, what’s your favourite position in the bedroom? Would you be willing to wear latex, and how do you feel about whips and chains?” Her shiny ruby lips pull back to reveal her teeth, and the devious smile etched on her flawless face becomes filled with intrigue. 

I roll my eyes at the depths of her perversion and sordid mind.

“Celeste - I hope you are being nice to Sarah.” Darius has returned with my Cosmopolitan cocktail, and not a moment too soon.

“I’m always nice darling.” She coyly winks at him before making her graceful exit across the room to talk to a man she's noticed admiring her artwork. His jaw is open wide in shock. The statue in question features a woman being sandwiched between two men, while a third gentleman's dowry is being rammed in her mouth. 'Celeste is one classy lady to have such an unscrupulous imagination.' I think, sarcastically to myself.

Darius and I look at one another and smile wryly. He obviously finds the public's reaction to Celeste's artwork just as amusing.

“Celeste is certainly one of a kind” I say frivolously.

“THANKS DARLING.” She shouts from across the room.

“How did she…?” I'm shocked at how she can hear me over 15 metres away, while heavy metal music strums moderately in the background.

“She has exceptional hearing.” Darius retorts crossly, and I can't help but wonder what he's getting so upset about.

“Right, I’ll have to remember that!” I take a large gulp of my icy cold Cosmopolitan, the cool pink liquid slides smoothly down my throat in the most appeasing way. I have never tried one this delicious before. It's must be a good omen, since this is no doubt going to be my favourite new drinking hole. 

 ***

After much banter, Darius leads me to a private booth which has been cornered off using lush red velvet rope.

“Oh, I’m allowed in the VIP section?” I playfully toy with him.

“Of course you are. You’re my manager. Another drink?” I'm a little deflated at earning the title 'the manager'. I would prefer something like 'the sexiest woman I have ever seen', or something modest along those lines….

If I didn’t know better, I could swear that he is trying to get me tipsy.

If he is, It's working. A few cosmos later and I'm royally intoxicated. Darius keeps throwing free drinks my way, and like a fish out of water, I'm guzzling the tasty pink liquor back like there's no tomorrow. We sit opposite each other, laughing and sharing silly stories and jokes. Upon finishing yet another glass I notice Darius gazing dreamily at me, his smile is warm and infectious, and his translucent eyes penetrate mine. My heart begins to beat harder with desire, beckoning for his mysterious touch. Deep within my belly, I crave to be caressed by him. The silence between us continues - 

“Can you dance?” He asks out of the blue, the velvety texture in his voice is smooth like honey.

“Not in this dress!” I reply honestly, unabashed due to the false inebriated confidence I'm exuding.

“I will probably trip over like a dilapidated penguin, before I even get close to the dance floor.”

Oh My God, did I just say that? Why am I hell bent on making myself look like a complete fool all the time?

“I see.” He sighs, evaluating the length of my pretty sparkly gown. Suddenly, without warning, he moves his hands over my thighs. My heart beats wildly in my chest and I can hardly breathe. A warm fuzzy feeling takes a hold of me; the blood rushes down between my thighs, causing a tingling sensation to penetrate my lower region.

“What are you doing?” I gasp in shock at his sudden unexpected advancement.

“Well, you said you couldn’t dance in the dress. I figure, that if I gave it to you, I can take it away!”

Before I have a chance to comprehend and react, his hands have already grasped firmly, the silk fabric at my upper thigh. Pulling down hard, he causes me to jolt under the force, ripping the bottom of the fabric to expose my bare legs, revealing a slight glimpse of naked skin at the curve of my arse.

“HEY!” I yell in shock, having just witnessed my beautiful dress being mutilated in front of my eyes.

“What? Now you can dance” he shrugs, tossing the fabric to the floor as though it is a piece of insignificant rag, not designer fabric. 

“But - you - just -” I'm dumbfounded, my eyes wide with shock, as I look down at the ruined outfit I had promised in my mind, as a gift to Mario. No chance in hell he's getting it now. I don't have time to protest my disgust at his discourteous behaviour, as he interrupts my train of thought.

“There’s plenty more gowns where that came from." He smiles darkly, his eyes flicker over my long nude legs approvingly. Tilting his head to the side to asses my feminine assets, quite purposely and unashamed, his eyes smoulder as they slowlymove upwards, studying each and every curve of my body with careful precision. From underneath the thick long lashes, his fiery gaze becomes set on mine. His mouth drops purposefully open, parting his smooth plump lips. His protruding tongue licks over their dry surface seductively, like he's imagining tasting something deliciously mouthwatering.  The look of desire written on his sensual face is intoxicating.

"Dance for me,” he commands, his words are but a whisper, but are far too irresistibly sinful and wicked to deny in my inebriated state, where no rules apply.   

I briefly hesitate, but he places a cool hand on my shoulder, summoning my fullest attention. I flinch at the coldness of his touch, but I am made to quickly forget, as I look deeper and deeper into his mesmerising eyes. I find myself losing all self-control. The same feeling I experienced when Celeste tried to have her way with me; is now controlling me once more, compelling me to perform.

This time, however, the pull to adhere to complete domination is far superior. I can't decide if it's because of the excess alcohol or because it's him, but I don’t try to fight it. I want him to take control of me. I want to be used by him, in the most terrible ways.

He leans towards me; I can feel his cool breath against my skin. Nothing is making any sense. I am lost somewhere beyond his compelling lure.

“Walk to the centre of the floor -” he whispers softly in my ear, and I comply, being driven by an invisible force.

His eyes follow my every move, like an eagle, eyeing its prey. I hypnotically obey his command.

“Now dance for me” his voice carries across the room, his lips hardly move, and yet I can hear him perfectly as if he is standing right next to me.

The music changes from the hard metal music to a drum and base beat. The once bright chandeliers which had lit the room are dimmed, replaced by strobe lighting. From the ceiling at the centre of the room, a large mirror ball begins twirling, dancing speckles of silvery stars across the open floor.

He watches me closely, unblinking or taking his hawk-eyed glare from my heated body.

I close my eyes and feel the beat coursing through my veins. The rhythm and the base, thrums through me like electric.

Brushing my fingers through my hair, I release the pins that have kept it styled, the wavy strands fall around my face. I carelessly sway to the tempo, until I loose myself completely in the music.

A bead of sweat falls down my cheek and my adrenaline races. I open my eyes to search for Darius' approval. He's still watching; his body so still that he could be mistaken for one of Celeste's marble statues. His tunnel-vision is locked solely on me. I close my eyes again and dip my body, thrashing in an upwards motion, letting my hair trail after the provocative move. My lashes part in suspense of his reaction and I notice that this time, he is not alone.

Celeste sits idle by his side, her dark eyes are also on me, but unlike his, hers are like feminine catlike slits, entranced by the thrusting of my hips to the beat.    

There's something erotic in knowing that you're being watched as a sexual object, the focus of desire. Even curious onlookers are beginning to seem aroused, their eyes stalking my every move.

Darius put's his hand in the air, then using a long slender finger, points towards the ground before pulling it slowly up again. I follow his command, bending down in a trance-like compliance, touching my ankle, I slowly move my fingers over my satin legs, up towards the contour of my a*s. His hand slams down once, hard on surface of the table in front of him, and suddenly I'm spanking myself. The sting bites, yet I find it immensely pleasurable.

He moves his hand over his torso, and with it my fingers imitate the move. Drawing circles in the air, he teases my chest slowly, and although I'm the one physically performing the deed, it feels as if his cool touch is on me. 

Slowly, he works his fingers upwards until they softly sweep over the hollow of my neck and to my mouth. I suck decadently on my finger as commanded, to lubricate the surface and trace it down over my midriff, down between my waiting thighs.

Darius and Celeste immediately move in synchronisation. From their once rigid frozen pose, they lean forward in approval. Moving my hand slowly up and down in unison with his fingers, a crooked grin becomes evident in the corner of his wicked mouth.

I can tell he's enjoying the show, toying with my body and making me do his bidding under his control.

“Come here” his velvety voice demands, and like a good little girl, I follow his lead.

As I approach, he puts out his hand and firmly takes a hold of me, pulling me onto his lap. My heart is hammering wildly now, my blood coursing through my veins. My heart is thumping with elation. At first, I'm startled by the coolness of his hard embrace, and for a split second I'm momentarily shocked out of my hypnotic trance. But any rebellious thoughts of defiance for my master are quickly diminished, when he slides his hands between my legs. Pressing his smooth lips to mine, he kisses me deeply. He knows exactly what he's doing.  

I've died and gone to heaven. My heart quickens pace, my breathing erratic. His cool lips brush lightly over my earlobe as his icy breath chill's my warm skin, sending a shiver down my spine, before pressing them tenderly against the hollow at the base of my neck. I throw my head back in exhilaration, then turn to meet his greedy, waiting lips once more. He stills.

Unmoving, he watches me. The suspense building in the air is electric. I wonder what he's thinking. He seems curious and lost, but for reasons I don't understand. The moment certainly doesn't warrant such a reaction.

"Do I know you?" he whispers, seeming confused. "Have we met somewhere before?"

I panic. Is he suddenly having a change of heart? Has he cruelly realised in this moment of ecstasy that he doesn't want me? Before I can inflict any more damaging thoughts upon my ego, he pushes his lips to mine, parting my mouth as we move together in perfect unity.

I become completely submerged in his alluring charm, until suddenly, without warning, he pulls away -

Again, with the unidentifiable eyes? Inquisitive frustration is etched deep within their endlessness wonder.

My heart leaps into my throat. Something is horribly wrong. I can feel it. The tension emanating from him is intense. Looking deep beyond his questioning eyes, a strange feeling occurs. 

Some distant recollection washes over me, like I have met him somewhere before? But it isn't possible. I've only just moved here to LA, and I have never met him before, I would have remembered. It's completely irrational that I should feel this way.

I know he feels the same way. The margin between his eyes creases into a deep V, and his stare glasses over. I can almost see him searching in his mind, over and over, for memories that could place a past meeting between us.

After a moment of prolonged silence, acknowledgement riddles his face. The look he wears is guilt, remorse and regret, and it pains his delicate face, making him appear vulnerable. He no longer looks at me, but through me, to another time and place, that doesn't include me at all.

With his focus somewhere else, I begin to relax. All feelings of acknowledgement towards him, instantly disintegrate. I hate seeing him like this, sad and non-complacent. I wish we can go back to just moments ago, when we were like wild fire in each other's arms. 

I contemplate asking him if he's okay, but I am silenced in my thoughts by his lips. This time, however, his kiss is more passionate. It's so sweet and tender that it reminds me a little of two lovers saying their final goodbye. We continue, tongue-tied with compassionate affection and then suddenly, everything changes. The movements become more desperate and fierce, almost angry. Pulling me closer to him, his embrace is crushing.  

He pulls away suddenly and breathes heavily. The chill from his cold, resentful stare is unbearable. The warm fire that had started to flare in my belly from his delectable kiss, is immediately distinguished.

He looks at me bitterly. My heart leaps into my throat at his malevolent stare which is cold and threatening. In response I pull my arms tightly around my midriff, a tidal wave of fear washes over me. I'm scared what he might do to me.

Closing his eyes, he takes a deep and heady breath, before reluctantly opening them again. All hostility has vanished.

I see no trace of the angry, hungry love I'd just experienced. Instead, he appears soft and apologetic, now that he's returned from wherever he went. 

"Sarah," He breathes, "I'm sorry...Sarah." He repeats my name, as though he is assuring himself of my identity. He Smiles meekly and presses his lips gently to mine, before pulling back and holding my face steady between his cool hands. He swallows hard, and leans in for another gentle kiss.        

At first, the movement feels difficult and forced, but soon enough the passionate caress of his lips against mine reverts back to the seductive allure they were before the awkward moment of confusion. The fire deep within my belly returns with vengeance, and I am lost in rapture of his uncompromising hold.

Our lips dance decadently, moving and sliding against each other's tongues fervently. The taste of his wet mouth is amazingly sweet like candy. The room disappears and we're floating, locked in elated bliss, somewhere beyond mortal existence. I'm falling, deeper and deeper, diving in recklessly, to the depths of his eternal cosmos. His kiss becomes firmer.  

His cool hand sweeps across my back, and I quiver in response. Although this touch somehow seems different now; it's smoother, not as firm.

My eyes flash open to reveal the striking red flame Celeste, standing behind me, stroking my back. I try and protest her involvement in our embrace, but I'm too weak to break the hold of Darius's strong lips on mine. He has me locked in his tight embrace and I cannot budge an inch.

Suddenly Darius sweeps his hand between my thighs; the cold sting is too much to bear. Celeste pulls my hair back, forcing our mouths to separate. Whilst Darius begins to softly kiss my neck, moving downwards, Celeste makes her move, placing her hand across my mouth so that I cannot scream.

This heinous red-headed monster towering over me, smiles dryly and purrs, almost catlike. Her prowling eyes, stalking me. Without warning, the shade of her eyes change from deep green to ultra-violet.

Darius wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer to him, not realising the imminent danger that towers over me. Her eyes appear alive, writhing and weaving, like a thousand snakes in a shallow pool, each intricate pattern is fighting for dominancy. She looks right through me, licking her lips as though she's famished, and I'm the juiciest steak on the menu.

Darius is far too engrossed to notice. To him, I am a delicacy that needs to be savoured. His distraction gives her the perfect opportunity to lean in and kiss my neck, keeping her firm hold over my mouth and nose. I struggle to breathe.   

Suddenly, I experience the most excruciating pain. Something sharp penetrates my neck, and warm liquid begins to drip down my midriff. She pushes her hand firmer against my mouth to silence my scream. I try and thrash out with my arms, but between her and Darius, I am pinned.

Before my very eyes she is changing, morphing into something I have never seen before. Her body begins shaking violently, shifting into a larger shape than is logically comprehensible for her tiny frame. Her pale skin becomes covered in a blanket of darkness and I am frozen with fear, as she continues to devour me.

My vision begins to blur, and the room starts to spin uncontrollably. I can feel myself becoming weaker by the second. I'm going to die, I know it.

As I phase in and out of consciousness, I try to focus my last remaining efforts on breathing, once Celeste's hand leaves my mouth. But I haven't the energy to scream. I hopelessly fight against the inevitable darkness.

My head falls limp to the side as black clouds begin to descend on the last of the remaining light. Before I give in to the shadows, the weight from between my thighs, lifts away. Darius forcefully throws the monster Celeste, across the room. My body falls limp to the floor.   

“CELESTE, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” are the last words I hear, before succumbing to absolute darkness.

 ***

“Open your eyes.”

A faint whisper travels across the room. Darius is sitting beside Celeste, smiling softly at me.

The drum and base song I'm dancing to has finished, replaced by a mellow, acoustic piece. The other patrons have vanished, and I stand alone on the dancefloor, in middle of the empty room. I wonder how long I've been dancing for?

“Come back, you must be exhausted.” Celeste yells, and Darius shoots her a filthy look, but she doesn't pay him any attention.

I'm confused. Walking slowly back to the table, my feet are killing me and my entire body is achy and stiff.  Darius leans across to un-hook the red velvet rope for me, when I reach the VIP section.

“Thank you for the dance,” he bows his head like a gentleman, waiting for me to be seated, before hooking the rope and sitting down beside me. He leans in closely to whisper softly in my ear, “You were fantastic!”

I sit beside him confused. Taking a swig of the warm cosmopolitan I had left sitting on the table, I feel extremely disorientated and sleepy.

Have I really been dancing all night?

The last thing I remember is Darius asking me to, and then…

I try to make sense of the blanks, the holes in my memory, but to no avail.

“Did something happen?” I ask mystified.

“Why darling, what ever do you mean?” Celeste answers, poised and smiling coyly, as if she has a deeper knowing but isn’t giving anything away.

I catch the sharp look Darius shoots her and the look of fear in her eyes. Instantly, all signs of incriminating evidence are removed from both their faces. I second guess whether I saw the exchange take place at all?

“I think it’s about time we get you back to the hotel.” Darius intervenes, stroking a strand of stray hair from my face and placing it behind my ear, being careful not to touch my skin. I swear I feel a cool chill emanating from him, which involuntarily makes me shiver. He looks at me apologetically, and drops his hand.

“Yes you’re probably right," I agree with him, clearly my mind is playing tricks on me due to the onset of sleep deprivation.

"But I’m still unsure of one thing."

"Unsure of what?" Celeste interjects, and Darius shoots her yet another caution.

"I could have sworn -” My voice trails off. The more I try and push for answers, the denser the dark wall that's fighting to block my memory, becomes.

“You could have sworn what?” Celeste asks sweetly, although I get the feeling she is pushing for something, an answer that I cannot give.

“I could swear I was only dancing for a short time - but it’s been hours?” I mumble to myself, a statement rather than a question. I'm not entirely sure of the time lapse that's occurred.

“Well, that’s what happens when you lose yourself in the dance.” Celeste grins wickedly, revealing her barred teeth from behind the blood red lips. Subconsciously I involuntarily cower from her smile, automatically wondering why?

Rising to her feet, she casually walks away, but not before yelling back over her shoulder and laughing loudly.

“WELCOME TO THE DESTINY MS MONTGOMERY, THE PLACE WHERE DREAMS COME TO TRUE -”

I look at Darius to see if he can enlighten me.  His jaw is tense, but he forces a smile and calmly shrugs. He obviously understands his friend's quirkiness, about as much as I do.

"Let's get you home, it will be sunrise soon." He purrs softly by my side while openly gazing into my eyes, and my heart melts like putty under the weight of his steadfast, brooding stare.