Chapter 11 Betraying Pleasure
Around 5 am, Alaia called a cab and went to work.
Slowly gripping the doorknob, her eyes stuck on the "G & G" sign on the door. She knew Tim would be in his office since 4 am, working on the morning editorial. Her heart drummed loud and fast, thinking she had to lie again. All because of that damn Zane!
"Where have you been?" The second Alaia stepped inside, Tim hopped off his old, wheeled office chair. The wrinkles on his forehead faded away, and his face relaxed.
"I'm so sorry. My battery ran out," Alaia lifted her phone while her stomach knotted regretfully, downing her first lie. "So I couldn't call you, uncle." She thought it was strange Tim never called the police. Not once did she call him. "I rented an apartment!" Alaia clamored.
"Thank God you're ok! I was about to call the police," Tim sighed, already hugging her. It seemed the heavy stone pressing on his chest just got lifted. Of course, he was worried, not hearing and not seeing her for entire three days and nights.
Alaia's head lightly bowed, feeling ashamed for everything she had become because of that devil. Tim was scanning her expensive clothes with a questioning face, coercing Alaia to shift the topic.
"Aah, I got exclusive access to Throne!" She exclaimed, hoping that would do and her uncle wouldn't doubt her words.
"Really?" Tim's face lit, his eyes gleamed, and he sat back on his chair, now only talking about the Throne. "They are starting to film it today. Go on, off to New Jersey!" He said, sliding his car key over the desk. "Your Mazda eats too much gas. Take mine instead."
After an hour and a half of drive, Alaia reached the spot where the Throne's crew gathered. She took her camera out, taking a photo after photo. And she interviewed and interviewed actor after actor, actress after actress, meeting many celebrities and film industry professionals. Including Jessica Hughes. The woman was a thorough green-eyed monster, doing nothing nice to Alaia. But Alaia managed to handle her at last.
It took her hours of hard work.
Still, it wasn't enough to stop the memories. She knew this area pretty well. After ten years, it was her first time in New Jersey. Today was Quinn's birthday, and their hometown wasn't far away.
The first day of filming finished.
It was 4 pm. Zane ordered her to be in his home by 7 pm, ready to fuck. There were 3 hours more, so she had enough spare time.
Fuck him! Fuck Zane Nash!
She sat in her car and drove through Quinn's and her hometown, the Avon-By-The-Sea. Leaving her car somewhere by the road, Alaia bought fireworks and sparkles, heading to Avon Beach on foot. They used to play with fireworks on their birthdays. And that was what she did now. Only this time, she was crying while doing it.
She remembered them, often playing house here, pretending to be wife and husband. Quinn had promised many times he would marry her. But instead, he would marry Fiona Wilson now.
When Alaia's family got into sudden trouble, Quinn was abroad with his mother. Tim had no choice but to take her to other city, and she didn't even say goodbye to Quinn.
Quinn didn't remember her as she remembered him. But she couldn't expect him to remember. After all, they were children back then. She didn't blame him.
Alaia was smiling and crying over her reflections all at the same time. Then her phone rang. She glanced at the screen.
"Fucking Coyote!" She annoyingly shouted out loud, seeing it was Zane calling her. She frowned and muted the phone, looking at the ocean's sparkling surface. Waves slowly began to rise, foaming white in the distance. The wind started, riffling through her hair, drying out her tears.
Alaia closed her eyes, thinking it would make her feel better.
When she opened her eyes again, it was dark. She grabbed her phone, seeing it was 6 pm. And then she noticed 84 missed calls and 30 unread messages, all from Zane.
"Asshole!" Alaia angrily screamed, not giving a fuck she was about to be late. She didn't become his whore of her free will. That bastard forced her. But then she stopped, pondering.
Is he worried about me? The next second, the phone rang again, and this time she picked it up.
"Where the fuck are you?" Zane's angry scream almost deafened Alaia. She now regretted answering his call.
"New Jersey," she calmly said. "Taking photos for the Throne!"
"You liar! I hate liars!" Zane lowered his tone, but Alaia could picture him gritting through his teeth.
"Ok. Ok. I'm at the beach, Avon beach. I'll be back soon," she said, expecting him to yell at her more. But Zane hung up the phone sharply.
ASSHOLE!
Alaia cursed and walked to Tim's car, got inside, and turned on the key. It only echoed with a rapid, clicking noise. She tried it again and again, but nothing happened. Her uncle's old car wouldn't start.
Next, she called a few cab operators, but no one wanted to come to where she was. Not even an Uber driver wanted to pick up her order.
Ugh! Goodness! How will I come back to New York now? Alaia helplessly thought.
As the night fell, it got only colder. She curled up in the backseat of Tim's car, hugging her knees in an attempt to resist the cold. And then, she fell asleep, beginning to dream.
In her dream, Zane burned G & G's office down. The devil bared his teeth in an insolent smile. Alaia woke up in a cold sweat. Damn it! He didn’t even allow me a moment’s peace in the dream!
The night was chilly. Alaia was shaking, feeling an extreme cold in her bones.
Then, a car's brakes screeched next to her. Is it a cab? Alaia hoped, quickly grabbing a flashlight from the glove department.
She turned around, seeing a familiar male figure. He was all the way walking toward her car, but even the aura that seemed to surround him showed the power he held, and it terrified Alaia.
Zane Nash! Am I dreaming? Isn't he in New York? Alaia froze, gaping at the tall figure approaching fast. She rubbed her eyes several times as the footsteps got closer.
Gosh! It's him! Coyote is furious as hell! At me, she realized.
The angry look on his face made him appear even more macho. Zane held himself proud and straight as he quickly strode, never looking more handsome. His steel-cold eyes glared ice at her, menacingly raising his chiseled, angular chin.
"Alaia Jones!" He roared. "Get out!”
Alaia flinched, her body trembling as she stepped out of the car.
“What the hell are you doing here?" He shouted to her face, staring coldly.
"I..., um, I... set off sparkles." Alaia stuttered, pointing to a few scattered on the seat next to her.
"What?" Zane's eyes widened, then narrowed again. "Are you nuts?" He asked, writing it on his face.
He expected Alaia by 6 pm in his villa today, but she didn't show up. The Throne's crew informed him they already finished filming around 4 pm. Then he got worried, sending his men to find her. They checked out G & G's office and all hospitals. Yet, she was here all this time, playing with those stupid sparkles and not answering his calls?
Zane couldn't believe the woman! How dares she?
"Uh..., I grew up here. Nostalgia, you know...," Alaia nonchalantly stated. His angry face somehow amused her. Zane acted silly. As if he was a spoiled brat and not getting what he wanted. "I used to set off fireworks here with mmm..., my parents," she twisted a truth a bit. "Like this!" Alaia said, taking a sparkle and matches
She lit it up, and the light brightened her tiny face. She smiled faintly as she played the sparkler.
Zane stared into her. She moved her hand through the air like a fairy, writing something with a sparkler. His eyes fixed on her like he was bewitched.
"What are you writing?" Zane asked coldly, trying hard not to smile back at her.
She wrote ‘Happy Birthday’ for Quinn. But she couldn’t let Zane know that, or he would tear her apart for sure.
"I'm writing 'Thank you!'" she exclaimed, still smiling. "You saved me. I couldn't turn on my car." She admitted. Though she hated him, Zane Nash did save her. His appearance somehow moved her, and she couldn't hide it.
Zane's heart skipped a beat. Alaia Jones, the woman who humiliated him before, just thanked him. Those two words sounded so melodious from her lips. Who could imagine that? He didn't. He couldn't.
"Do you want one?" Alaia said offering him a sparkler. Zane stood still, gazing at her intensely. He bedazzled muted, desire in him blooming.
"No?" Alaia flushed under his gaze. Zane lifted his hand. But instead of taking the sparkler, his hand slithered behind her neck. He pulled her closer, leaning her head against his chest.
Then he cupped her face, landing his lips on hers. She tasted so sweet as the bloody, sweetest honey. Alaia froze. Before she could react, Zane’s tongue already danced with hers in her mouth.
Zane tugged at her coat, sliding it down her shoulders and ripping it off her. He never felt like this, never wanting any woman so bad as he wanted Alaia now. He pulled her shirt up, cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples.
"Not here, please!" Alaia moaned breathlessly. She couldn’t let him fuck her in a place filled with the memories of Quinn.
She tried to push Zane away. But she did it too weakly, looking silly even to herself.
"Right here, right now, rabbit! " Zane groaned, getting rid of her shirt and unzipping her pants hurriedly. He slid his hand down her thigh and into her panties. Alaia couldn't stand still as his fingers flickered over her clit.
In no time, he had her on her back. Completely undressed, with his fingers playing her body as the easiest-playing violin.
Alaia couldn't stop moaning. Immediately she coiled her legs around Zane's waist, letting out a heavy sigh as he filled her slowly.
"Alaia..." Zane groaned, feeling her juices coating his shaft. Alaia panted hard as he rocked above her, with each next thrust getting deeper and faster. She cursed herself for becoming so wet so quickly. And for submitting to him so easily.
The first signs of approaching waves of pleasure shocked her, betraying her.
"Zane..." She cried his name in rows unstoppably. As if she wanted him to fuck her. As if Zane was the only name, living in her world.