Chapter Twenty-Two

Jordan

The lobby of the Barclay was fairly empty when I arrived. It was quiet and I looked around for Chastity but didn’t see her. I took a seat near the small indoor fountain and pulled out my phone. I hadn’t realized a text message had popped up from Chastity.

Meet me in my room – and make sure you lose your shirt before you get here ;)

A smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I read the words. She’d said she wanted to talk, but hell, I was a warm-blooded man who’d take makeup sex over talking any day of the week and twice on Sundays. The idea of fucking her wildly, of getting all our rage out in the bedroom, turned me on more than I would have imagined. My cock was already growing stiff as I approached the private elevator to her suite. Not having a code to use, she was going to have to send the elevator down for me – which she did. The doors opened and I stepped inside, leaning against the back of the elevator as I rode up to almost the top.

I took a deep breath, feeling relieved that she’d forgiven me. While her life wasn’t for me, I still couldn’t stop thinking about her. No one made me feel the way she did, and I was about to prove that to her. If we were going to make things work, we’d have to make some changes and come to a few understandings, sure. We could make it work if we tried.

As the elevator approached her floor, I started unbuttoning my shirt. I was going to make sure I obeyed her wishes and desires, after all. When the elevator doors opened, I stepped out and let my shirt fall to the floor.

The suite was dim and gloomy, with thick pockets of shadow clinging to every corner. I looked around and didn’t see her at first. The place actually looked empty for the most part. Except for a small table near the window that had a few lit candles a bottle of champagne on ice. I looked at it for a moment, watched the flickering candlelight dancing off the bottle of champagne and smiled. When I looked around a little more closely, I noticed the path of clothes leading down the hallway to the bedroom.

Dirty girl, I thought and smiled to myself. My erection strained against my jeans, begging for release – but even more, begging to be sheathed inside of Chastity once more. Looking at the trail of clothing on the floor, I decided to follow suit and start undressing as I walked down toward the bedroom.

I unzipped my pants and let them fall to the ground, leaving just my boxers on until I was right outside the bedroom. The door was shut, so I turned the knob, the excitement and anticipation rising with in me. My cock was harder than hell and it was protruding from my boxers, making my arousal more than obvious. Figuring there was no sense in trying to be modest, given the hard-on poking through my boxers, I quickly lost them before opening the door.

The room was dark and at first, I couldn’t see a damn thing. I stepped inside, letting my eyes adjust to the pitch black of the room. I didn’t see her, but I felt her step up behind me, coming out from her hiding place behind the door.

I turned around to face her, and she quickly grabbed my face, pressing her lips to mine. Her tongue pushed past my lips and right away, I knew that something wasn’t right. Her smell, her taste and most of all, her height – no, something was very wrong. This wasn’t Chastity, it couldn’t be. I pulled away, but not before a bright light flared, completely blinding me.

“Jesus Christ!” I shouted, covering my face and trying to find the source of the bright, white flash – which wasn’t easy to do, given that I was seeing spots in front of my eyes. A camera flash. Meaning, a photographer had been in the bedroom. I’d been set up.

My eyes adjusted a moment later though and my eyes grew wide when I saw who was standing before me. Confusion gripped my mind for a moment as I stared at Jessa Bond – the model who’d been with Chastity’s assistant at the gala the other night. She was smiling, wide, and reached out for me.

“I’m so glad you came,” she purred, her voice sultry.

She ran her fingertips down my chest, stroking my bare skin with her hands. The bedroom door behind me opened and slammed shut again, and when I turned, Jessa blocked the way. She was naked – completely naked. As was I.

“Who the fuck was that?” I called out, pushing her aside.

She said nothing, so I opened the door and ran down the hallway, looking for whoever had been in that room with us. When I got to the living room, I found that the elevator had already left. The photographer was already downstairs, and I was still standing there, naked. I hurried around the suite, grabbing up the clothes I’d discarded so hastily, trying to get dressed, as Jessa stepped from the bedroom.

Even in my current, frantic state, I could see that she had a nice body – a very nice body. She was, after all, a model. Her red hair fell over her shoulders in bouncy waves, and her lips were bright red and smudged with lipstick. She was smiling at me.

“Come on, Jordan,” she purred. “You and her are old news anyway. Why don’t you just relax, have a glass of champagne, and have a little fun with me tonight. The room’s already paid for, why not take advantage of it? And me, while you’re at it?”

“Fuck off,” I muttered, pulling my pants up. “You set me up and I want nothing to do with you, got it? Just stay the fuck away from me, you bitch.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what the press is going to say,” she said. “Unless, of course, you’re willing to give me what I want. Give me what I want and those photos never see the light of day. Say no and tomorrow, you’re front page news, baby.”

The press. Could they legally release such photos? Could they actually publish photos I didn’t consent to have taken? I didn’t know. And I didn’t trust the media as far as I could throw them, but I didn’t think they could do that.

“They publish those pictures, I’ll fucking sue their asses,” I said. “And yours too for setting me up.”

Zipping my pants, I slammed my fist into the elevator button, my anger growing every second I was near Jessa fucking Bond. I threw on my shirt and silently begged for the elevator to come up already. I figured the photographer was already long gone, but I had to try to reach him and stop him from sharing those pictures. I’d smash his fucking camera if I had to – wouldn’t be the first time, after all.

“Go ahead,” Jessa said. “But it’ll be too late for you and Chastity anyway.”

The elevator doors opened, and I stepped inside as Jessa pouted.

“We really could have had a lot of fun together, Jordan,” she said. “I like my men rough and dirty. And I just know you could fill those needs for me. Sure you won’t reconsider, baby?”

“And I like my women to have a little more respect for themselves,” I said as the doors closed.

I cursed at myself as I reached for my phone, hastily dialing Chastity’s number – her real phone number. I growled and slammed my fist into the wall of the elevator as the call went straight to voicemail.

“Chastity, we have to talk,” I said. “And we need to talk soon.”

As I rode the elevator down, knots in my stomach and rage gripping my heart, I reviewed my options. And really, the only option I had was to run over to her place and talk to her in person. Tell her about what just happened and what she could expect to see.

I didn’t want to have to do it, but there really was no other choice.