“TAKE THE DAY off. Rest. I don’t want you to feel weak or disoriented.”
“Dorian, I am perfectly fine. I feel good, really,” I respond, applying my mascara in the vanity mirror of my bathroom draped in a terry-cloth robe. Dorian’s hips are wrapped only in a fluffy white towel, showcasing his hard, taut body, making it impossible to focus on the task at hand. I’ve already nearly poked my eye out twice.
Running his hand through his messy, damp locks, Dorian twists his lips to one side, making him look unbelievably cute and boyish. “I don’t know, Gabs. It worries me to have you out there right after you’ve used. The exchange of power between two forces is extremely draining. Especially for you. I loved it- hell, it was incredible- but you shouldn’t have done it.”
I spin around, completely taken aback by his comment. “What did you just say?”
“Uh, it worries me to have you out after you’ve used and you shouldn’t have done it?” he recalls with a raised eyebrow.
I shake my head, cocking my head to one side. “No. What did you call me?”
“Oh, yeah. Gabs,” he smiles sheepishly.
I smile back at my beautifully buoyant lover, relishing in our lighthearted banter after weeks of distress. Tammy is healed, his father is gone, and there has been no sign of my paranormal stalker. For now, all is right in the world.
“You’ve never called me that before. My friends are the only ones that call me that,” I remark, returning my attention to applying my light makeup.
“Am I not your friend?”
I put down my eyeliner and gaze at Dorian’s reflection in the mirror. “I’d say you are much more than that.”
Dorian closes the distance between us and places his hands around my waist from behind. “But we’re friends. That’s one of the things I love about you. Even if there was nothing sexual between us, even if I didn’t love you as deeply as I do, I’d still like you.”
He turns my body around to face him, guiding me by my hips. I gaze into his bright blue, twinkling eyes, noticing how youthful and carefree he appears. “I’ve never had that with any woman, and it is seriously blowing my mind. I don’t just like holding you, feeling you, making you come until you cry… I like talking to you. Knowing you.”
I fight the urge to burst into a fit of girlish giggles and settle for a sweet, tender kiss instead. I like Dorian too. Besides Jared, he’s the only other guy that I’ve opened up to. I’ve peeled back all my complicated layers and revealed the scared, stubborn, crass girl that I really am. I’ve let myself feel with him. And the fact that even after he’s learned all those things about me, bullshit and baggage included, and still wants me, reconfirms my decision. I will love Dorian until the day I die. And even if that day is tomorrow, I will fight for this love- for him- because he is worth it.
“Well, other than just being a cool ass chick, I know exactly why you like me.” I press my lips against his for a quick peck before turning back around to finish primping. “I am my father’s daughter, Dorian. Maybe you see a piece of Alexander in me. You miss him.”
Dorian takes a step back, visibly shaken by my observation. Oh shit. I guess I can add ‘tactless’ to my list of attributes. Yet, he’s not angry or saddened by the memory of my deceased father and his best friend. He’s thoughtful, surprised.
Finally, he nods, and flashes his ridiculously sexy half-smile. “I do. I miss him. And I guess you do favor him in some ways.”
I move into the bedroom to dress. Though I’m not ready to leave him, I have to be at Cashmere in thirty minutes to open. “Tell me about him,” I say with a gentle smile. I know that revisiting this part of Dorian’s past could potentially hurt him.
He flops onto the bed and sighs, looking up toward the ceiling as if he is recalling a distant memory. “I have to admit, at first Alex hated me. Being the spoiled, entitled eldest son of the king, I thought I could flex my so-called authority even after I joined the Shadow. I was wrong. We were all equal, all brothers. Alex quickly kicked my ass and I never forgot it.”
What? My dad kicked Dorian’s ass? How is that even possible? Dorian is invincible. No one could physically hurt him. At least I couldn’t.
“He taught me the ropes, whipped me into shape. He wasn’t much older than I was, yet he was so much more grounded, humbled. Disciplined. Being that he was the illegitimate son of a nobleman, he had to work for what he achieved. He knew what it meant to be a man. And he taught me more about that than even my own father.”
I slip on my modest red floral shirtdress, accenting it with a tan belt, all the while beaming with pride at the thought of my father having a positive impact on Dorian, the man that I love. To know that he helped shape and mold the compassionate, decent Dark One that stands before me today makes me feel somewhat close to him. And proud to be his daughter.
“My father’s family…you said their name last night. What was it again?”
Dorian nods. “Polemos.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, slipping into my wedge sandals.
Dorian is still sprawled out on the bed, only a towel covering his tantalizing nether regions. He seems so comfortable in his skin, so self-assured. He looks at me, his eyes filled with nostalgia. “War. He was a great warrior. All the Polemos are.”
War. He was a fighter, just like me. And my mother was a bad ass in her own right. Now it all makes sense. Learning about my parents is more than just an education. I am learning about me, the girl I never really knew. The girl that was spelled to appear mundane and insignificant.
Dorian tugs at the hem of my dress like a child trying to summon his mother. “Don’t go,” he whines playfully. “If you stay, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“You’ll tell me anyway. Besides, the boutique can’t run itself. Can’t make you much money if I close up shop every time you want to play hooky, boss man.”
Dorian shrugs. “What do I care? I have no need for any of it.”
“Then why do you own all this?” I say waving my hand around the room to indicate the luxury apartment complex. “You have all these businesses but you don’t care?”
My spirited lover laughs heartily, even going as far as to throw his head back with glee. “I thought you would have figured it out! It’s all a front, all constructed to lure you. I present a convenience so you never have the need to look elsewhere.”
“What the hell?” I shriek, placing my hands on my hips.
Dorian lifts his palms in feigned defense. “Calm down, killer. It was for your own good. I had to ensure I kept you near. To protect you. And I wanted to make you happy, honestly. I want to give you everything you could ever want and need. I’m extremely wealthy, Gabriella. Every business I’ve acquired has been for you. It’s all for you.”
His heartfelt admission successfully stops me up short, causing me to release my tightly clenched fists. “Oh. So what…you want me to be a kept woman?” Barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen comes to mind if only I could cook…or even conceive children.
“Not at all. You would never allow it anyway. I get the feeling you have an aversion to authority, not to mention your inability to relinquish even an ounce of control.”
“Damn right!” I smile.
“Plus, I like your spunk. Your independence. Your refusal to take any of my shit. And I like that you make me feel young. Free. You are sincere and real. My entire life I’ve been surrounded by women who felt like they hit the jackpot as soon as they met me. They were ready to let me walk all over them just as long as they could say that they were connected to me somehow. And I did just that. I’d get what I wanted and move on without a second thought. But women like that bore me. I like a challenge,” he winks.
“I hardly think I was much of a challenge, Dorian. I showed up at your hotel room, remember?”
“But you knew what you wanted. And it wasn’t money or status or even the exterior. There was something else there. Other than you being so horny you nearly came the first time I touched you,” he chuckles.
What the hell? What’s gotten into him?
Oh. Me, of course. Just as Aurora emitted her lustful desires into him, Dorian has received my good-humored crudeness. Just like the first time I transferred my amorous feelings into him. The next day he was different- witty and teasing. Sheesh, so I guess my tacky sense of humor is my superpower.
“Well, sorry, I hadn’t been around the block as many times as you, old wise prince,” I jibe. “Besides, you don’t fight fair!”
“I never said I did, little girl. Now… about you going to work. You might as well undress and get back in this bed with me or I’ll be forced to be very undiplomatic with your body. Again. And this time, I’ll make it hurt.”
My eyes grow wide with shock and excitement at the memory of Dorian completely immobilizing me and manipulating each of my pleasure points. And as much as it scares me to admit it, the prospect of seeing him in his darkness, unleashing the vicious beast inside of him that completely shatters every ounce of my resolve, arouses me.
“No! I really have to go to work! Carmen will be waiting outside!” I plead. “Why don’t you just come with me? And if you see that I’m weak or moody, we’ll come straight home. I promise.”
Dorian smiles and nods at the idea. “Home,” he murmurs thoughtfully. He sighs then stands to his feet, letting the towel around his waist drop to the floor. His impressive semi-hard length instantly makes my mouth salivate. “Like what you see?”
“I do. But I’ve got to get to work, Mr. Skotos. My boss can be a real hard-on,” I giggle. “Now get dressed so you can see your hard-earned money at work.”
We opt to walk the few minutes to Cashmere to enjoy the bright, warm sunshine. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, and I instantly lift my head to let the sun’s rays kiss my face. Ahhh. It feels divine. Almost as good as Dorian’s kisses.
“You channel the sun,” Dorian notes, as I skip ahead, swinging my arms like an actress in a ridiculously cheesy tampon commercial.
“Huh?” I ask, spinning around to gauge Dorian’s beautiful face. He looks stylish and dangerously sexy as always, dressed in linen pants and a crisp button up shirt rolled up to his elbows.
“You feel rejuvenated in sunlight, right? Stronger?” He awaits my baffled expression. “Hmmm, maybe you are more Light than Dark,” he remarks with a smirk.
He’s right. The sun does put me in good spirits. But I thought everyone had that reaction when it was sunny versus rainy and gloomy. “True,” I respond. “You don’t feel that way?”
Dorian shrugs, strolling gracefully as if the pavement is his runway. “I don’t have an aversion to it. I won’t burst into flames,” he chuckles. “But it does nothing for me.”
I nod, recalling the loose translation of Dorian’s first name. “I bet you’re an amazing swimmer.”
Dorian’s eyes twinkle as a nostalgic smile creeps onto his face. “I am. Skiathos has the most beautiful, crystal clear waters. I wish I could take you there.”
“Maybe one day you will,” I reply, taking his hand in mine. I don’t have the heart to tell him that I’d already been there very recently. In the dream his father gave me.
We approach the storefront just as Carmen is parking her car and I quickly unlock our fingers to avoid any skepticism, earning a pointed glare from Dorian. I’m sure Miguel informed her of my relationship with him, the now full owner of Cashmere, yet I feel it would be tasteless and unprofessional to make it obvious on the job.
The look of shock and adulation sketched on Carmen’s face as she takes in Dorian’s startling splendor makes me giggle internally. Poor girl. He still has that effect on me, especially when his eyes are smoldering with licentious desire and danger.
“Carmen, this is Mr. Skotos. He’ll be checking up on us today,” I say, unlocking the front door and ushering them inside.
Carmen extends her trembling hand. “N-Nice to meet you, Mr. Skotos. Um, uh, I’ve, uh, heard so much about you.”
Dorian smiles warmly, obviously trying to dispel any stuffy feelings of formality. “Please, call me Dorian. And I’m not here to check up on either of you. I know you’re doing an excellent job here.” He places his large hand in Carmen’s and she instantly recoils.
“Ack! Sorry! I didn’t mean to shock you,” she says stroking her palm.
Dorian looks at me quizzically for a beat then returns his gaze to Carmen where he waves off the strange occurrence. “No worries. Good to meet you Carmen.” He looks to me and says, “I’ll be in the back office. I have some paperwork I’d like you to sign when you have a moment.”
Something has surely ruffled him, though he’s doing well at masking it from Carmen. She seems none the wiser, shuffling off to prepare for the morning’s opening. Dressed in high-waisted harem pants, a white tank and jeweled heeled sandals, Carmen’s keen eye for fashion is definitely a strong selling point. I don’t require anyone to buy or wear the clothing at the boutique. All I ask is that the staff strives to promote similar styles that we carry and be creative with making it their own. So far it has worked with women both young and old. I want the store to exude individuality and personal diversity, rather than what’s just hot for the season.
“Carmen, I’m going to grab the cash drawer. Holler if you need anything, ok?”
I head to the back office where our safe is kept to find Dorian lounging thoughtfully at the desk. I close the door behind me, well aware that there’s something he needs to tell me.
“What was that all about?” I whisper, though I know there’s no way Carmen can hear me all the way back here.
Dorian shakes his head. “You never told me Carmen and Miguel practiced Santeria.”
I give Dorian a skeptical look. “Uh, probably because I didn’t know, not to mention, even know what Santeria is. So what…you felt something with Carmen? Is she something?” Geez, first Morgan, now Carmen too? Do I have any normal friends?
Dorian shakes his head. “No, not Carmen, exactly. Or even Miguel. Someone in their bloodline. A Bruja, a witch. Could be nothing, or could be…bothersome.”
What? This just keeps getting more bizarre. “So you can pretty much sense any other mystical being by touch, right?”
“No, I can sense any power source around me. Carmen sensed me by touch, and I got a glimpse of her bloodline. She doesn’t know what I am though. That never happened when she’s touched you, I presume.”
I shake my head. “So there’s like…forces all around us? Like you?” And me.
Dorian chuckles a bit, folding his hands behind his head. “Of course. We, as well as the Light, have the ability to deflect. But if we’re deflecting, we can’t detect what’s around us.” Dorian turns the swivel chair to follow my movements as I walk over to the safe to retrieve the cash drawer. “We’re everywhere, Gabriella. You’d be surprised.”
I finish concentrating on the combination lock, biting my lip in determination before looking at him skeptically. “So since we’ve been together, we’ve come across others? When?”
Dorian shrugs and flashes me a crooked grin. “A few times. Our first date actually. The waitress at the sports bar was Light. Do you remember?”
How could I forget? Our conversation was so seamless, so fluid. I couldn’t believe someone so inexplicably sexy could be so down to earth. And there was something off about the waitress. She was visibly shaken just at the sight of him, afraid even. After Dorian confirmed that she wasn’t just some scorned ex-lover, I chalked it up to poor service.
“I remember that! She was damn near scared of you. But you left her such a large tip. What was up with that? I thought you guys all hated each other.”
“Relations aren’t as volatile as they used to be. We can’t very well go around killing each other, can we?” Dorian’s eyes flash to the door. “Carmen is coming. You better get out there and make me some money,” he says jokingly.
I go to leave the office and nearly collide with Carmen just as her hand is raised to knock. “Oh crap, I’m so sorry, Gabs! I was just seeing if you needed any help. It’s a few minutes to nine.”
“Here I come.” I look back at my playful lover once Carmen retreats to the front of the store. “I’ll be back to check on you. Try not to break anything, ok,” I say with a wink.
The morning zips by and we are surprisingly busy for a Monday. Word must’ve gotten out about the delicious Greek god observing quietly, causing most of the shoppers to lose their bearings, along with all intelligent thought. I spy Dorian slyly while ringing up an older woman, probably mid to late 50s, who is nearly drooling while fishing out her credit card. I don’t mind her ogling eyes; she spent nearly $3000, scoring Carmen a sizable commission.
By noon, Amy, another one of our sales clerks comes on shift and I am thankful for the help. Her reaction is as staggering as Carmen’s when she lays eyes on Dorian, and a little grin creeps onto my face. After the lunch rush, I send Carmen on her break, even though we are still pretty busy.
“I’ll help,” Dorian says after I assure Carmen half a dozen times that we’ll be fine for an hour without her.
I look at him with a questioning brow. “Um, you? Have you ever done retail? Or even worked a regular job? Ever?”
A wide, animated grin spreads across his gorgeous face. “Nope. But I think I could handle it. I’m a very hard worker,” he breathes seductively. Mmmm, very hard, indeed.
I am painfully aware of Amy’s eyes on us, puzzled by our casual exchange. She doesn’t know about our relationship and I intend to keep it that way.
“Ok, Mr. Skotos. Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with.”
I try to put some distance between us, diverting my attention to a new display of edgy, skull-adorned baubles from a local designer. I know he’s probably scowling at my back right now, but he doesn’t get a chance to stew for too long before he is bum-rushed with a barrage of hopeless female consumers who buy any and everything he touches.
Once Carmen has returned and sales have slowed a bit, Dorian requests to speak to me in private about some paperwork. As soon as we enter the office, he locks the door.
“So what the hell was that about?” he questions, leaning casually against the door.
“Dorian, please don’t tell me you’re seriously upset. I don’t want people to think that I got this job just because we’re fucking. That’s tacky.”
Dorian’s face suddenly twists up in a violent sneer, his eyes darkening into a menacing glower, yet his eyes are bright and raging. Oh shit. I’ve offended him.
“Fucking?” he hisses. “I tell you that I would lay down my life for you and that translates as just fucking?” His body slowly lurches towards me in an inhuman way, as if he has no bones or joints to constrict his twisted movements.
Shit. I really have a way with words. “I didn’t mean it like that! I know what we have, but it will be perceived as just me screwing my way up the ladder.” Tentatively, I reach my hand towards him, letting my fingertips stroke the base of his jaw. I’m not afraid of the monster inside of him anymore. I know it’s a part of who he is and I’ll never be able to change that. Not to mention that my own inner demon could be substantially more venomous. “I hate it as much as you do. I’ve wanted to touch you all day.”
Dorian cages the vicious beast, letting the charming, alluring man I know and love resurface. “You have no idea how hard it has been to keep my hands off you.” He bites his bottom lip, nestling into my touch before pulling me towards him by the small of my back. “I don’t like you hiding what you are to me. I don’t give a damn what people think.”
“But I do,” I say against his hard chest. “I want to be taken seriously. I want to earn their respect.”
“Hmmm. Noble. Yet not good enough for me. I want them to know. And because you’ve made me so angry, I can only think of one way for you to pay for your misdeeds.”
My head snaps up to meet his smoldering gaze and I register exactly what he means. Before I know it, I am bent over the desk and my dress is raised over my ass.
“Hey! Dorian, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper fiercely.
“I’m going to fuck you, little girl,” he grits, kneading my backside. “Since that’s what you think we’ve been doing all this time.”
“I didn’t mean it like that! Oh God, Dorian, they’ll hear us!” Even with the store’s stereo system blaring, there’s no way we could be discreet, considering how spirited we both can be. Sex with Dorian is always so dynamic. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I hear the familiar sounds of his belt and zipper, and heat instantly pools and pulses between my legs. Dammit! His lips are on my ear, nibbling gently, his cool breath sending shivers down my spine.
“That’s the point. I want them all to know just how good I make you feel. Just how much your body craves this.” He nudges his hardness against my ass. “Just how hard you come when I live inside you.”
Holy shit! As if my body could betray me any further, I am suddenly dripping wet, panting feverishly as I steady myself against the desk. I feel the hard thickness of him slap the top of my lace-clad ass as he slides his slacks down to his ankles. He quickly relinquishes me of my panties and I hurriedly step out of them.
“Please,” I beg in a breathy voice. “I don’t think I can be quiet. I want you too bad.”
Dorian strokes the searing fire between my legs and I unsuccessfully muffle a moan. “Good. I want to hear you. I want you to scream my fucking name,” he says between gritted teeth. “You need to remember who I am. Remember who owns this.”
Dorian parts my legs wider by inserting his knee between them, still stroking my throbbing swell with precision. He slips a finger inside of me, and I bite my lip to refrain from crying out his praises. He stirs my insides, fingering my walls, feeling them contract and quiver around him.
“Baby, you are so wet for me.” To my dismay, he removes it and I hear the sounds of sucking. “Mmmm, you taste so sweet.” Again, Dorian slides the finger inside of me, repeating the delightful torment, causing me to grind against his single digit. He removes his finger, and places it in front of my face. “Suck,” he demands.
The fuck?
I look at his long, agile finger, glistening with my own nectar. I bite my lip apprehensively before Dorian urges his finger into my mouth. Oh what the hell. I devour it, eagerly sucking it like it is Dorian on my tongue. Tasting my own juices only rouses me more and I begin to rub against him, yearning for him to fill me until I burst.
“Greedy little girl,” Dorian mumbles in my ear as he takes his hand away. He brings it to my front, stirring my clit as he eases me into position. I feel his knees bend behind me as the head of his penis finds my soft slit.
With a penetrating thrust, Dorian is inside me, stretching my pink walls, digging into my core. As always, we moan in unison at the feeling, me relishing in the intense fullness, he stunned by the gloriously snug warmth. Dorian delivers deep, deliberate blow after blow, causing me to resort to biting my bottom lip to muffle my cries. My knees buckle and tremble with every impact yet Dorian steadies me by holding my hips, refusing to show me any mercy or restraint. I can’t contain my moans any longer; I let them spill out in strained, garbled expletives and pleas to a higher power.
“That’s right, baby. Tell me you love it,” Dorian growls, quickening his pace. “Give it to me. Let go.”
With a surprising roar of my own, I buck against him, the desk screeching with each powerful thrust. I want to give it to him. I want him to feel my insides shiver and become slick with my own lustful essence.
I feel his cool breath on my shoulder as a rush of foreign babble falls from his lips. It’s Greek. Freakin’ Greek. Holy hell! Though I can’t understand him, it’s incredibly erotic and only heightens our carnal frenzy. A hand releases my hip and I feel it around the base of my throat, applying more and more pressure with every hard stroke while he continues the foreign chant in my ear. The room is spinning and my eyes roll to the back of my head. My limbs are like jelly yet I still meet him thrust for thrust, encouraging him to take me even harder.
“Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop,” I croak through the tightness at my neck, gripping his hips behind me to motivate each thrust. I’m so close I can taste it. And I want it hard, rough and wonderfully brutal.
“Ah! Fuck!” Dorian calls out loudly, releasing my neck and pounding me from behind ruthlessly as he succumbs to his own overwhelming orgasm. Feeling his heat spurt into me takes me over the edge and I unravel instantly, calling his name with reverent praise and adulation.
“Shit,” I mutter as we crumple to the ground, both of us spent and sated from our ear-splitting orgasms. Regrettably, he slips out of me but I’m too weak to protest. “I know they heard us.”
Dorian chuckles at my horrifying humiliation. I weakly turn my head to scowl at him. “It’s not funny, Dorian! Customers probably heard us! Oh God oh God!”
“Relax, Gabriella,” he chortles.
“Relax? How the hell can I relax? Shit, shit, shit! How could I have been so stupid?” I cover my face with my damp arm in shame. I might as well take a bow and accept the award for Slore of the Year.
“Hey,” Dorian coos, gently pushing my arm away and pulling my face towards his. His eyes are filled with warmth and ardor, immediately comforting my troubled ego. “Seriously. I took care of it. The room is spelled to be sound proof. They didn’t hear a thing.”
I look at Dorian in disbelief, unsure if I should be upset or elated. Before I can decide on an appropriate reaction, he’s on his feet, tugging me up onto mine. My legs are still quite shaky balancing on my wedge heeled sandals so I steady myself on the desk which has been scooted at least six inches from its original spot. Dorian bends down to grab my panties, holding them out so I can step in them carefully. He then tucks in his shirt and fastens his pants.
“Now that’s out of the way, I do have some paperwork for you to sign.” He picks up a packet of papers from off the desk and points to a field requiring a signature. “Sign here,” he says handing me a pen.
“What’s this?”
Dorian shakes his head nonchalantly. “Just some documents renegotiating your position here now that I own it in full. Nothing you need to ultimately worry about now.” He flashes me a dazzling smile and I nearly melt at how insanely beautiful and happy he looks. Reluctantly, I tear my eyes from his face just long enough to scrawl my name. “And here and here,” he says flipping through a few more pages.
I do as he requests then look up at him and shake my head. “Always business and pleasure with you, huh?”
“Why have one or the other when you can have both?” he winks. “Now let’s get you fed.”
We walk down to a little old-fashioned diner about a block away and indulge in burgers, fries and milkshakes. Of course, the milkshakes are Dorian’s favorite part and I giggle jovially at his attempt to suck down the thick froth without getting a brain-freeze.
“Geez, all that power, and you haven’t figured out a way to combat that?” I laugh.
Dorian presses his hand against his forehead and squints his eyes tightly. “You’re right. Pretty damn pathetic.”
After lunch, Dorian asks me to walk down to Luxe with him so he can check on something. I gladly oblige, more than happy to get a chance to see Morgan as well as Carlos and Jackson. Those guys are always a riot and I make a mental note to invite them to our next tequila-inspired karaoke night. Oh, the costumes! I can only imagine. As we turn on the street that houses the salon, Dorian stops me in my tracks.
“Shit. There’s someone in the salon.” His brow furrows in annoyance. “Fucking Light.”
“Do you know who?”
Dorian shakes his head, his eyes narrowing in concentration as if he’s trying to pick up some unknown signal. “No. Stay by me. Don’t touch anyone.”
“Should I just stay outside?”
Dorian looks at me incredulously, all of the good humor he exuded just seconds ago nowhere in sight. “Hell no. Absolutely not. I am a Skotos. We are to be feared. We never back down or run away from anything. Ever.”
He intertwines his fingers with mine and gives me a stiff tug towards the salon, his body humming, almost vibrating with tension. A low murmur escapes his lips but I can’t make out what he’s saying. I can tell Dorian is furious, maybe even a little nervous, but his pride won’t let him show it. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him embrace the weight of his family’s credo.
We enter the salon with the usual flourish that accompanies us whenever I am with Dorian. It’s impossible for anyone, man or woman, to not stop and stare at his exotic splendor. My stomach is snarled with apprehension and uncertainty, yet I am oddly elated at being in the presence of the Light, though I would have no idea who it could be. Would they be ridiculously beautiful like Dorian, and even Aurora? I wouldn’t be surprised, considering how stunning Natalia was.
“Gabs! Dorian! What brings you two here?” Morgan exclaims as we approach. Sitting in the sleek stylist’s chair at her station sits a middle aged woman who I see has requested a severe, trendy cut with blunt, straight bangs. Her eyes are glued on Dorian, her mouth forming an ‘O’ in admiration.
“Just hanging out. How’s everything going?” I try my hardest to seem passive but I am anxiously scanning the large room for any sign of the Light. Dorian squeezes my hand gently, noticing my distraction. He still appears impassive though the tiny furrow of his brow tells me that he is deep in concentration.
“Oooh, mija, I know you better come over here and speak to me!” I hear from behind us. We turn around to see Carlos, a hand on his narrow hip, smiling at me brightly.
“Carlos!” I beam. We cross the room to greet him but when I try to advance further to give him a hug, Dorian stops me before I can take another step.
“Mr. Skotos, good to see you,” he says with a nod. Dorian returns the gesture politely before returning to the task of scanning the room with cold, trained eyes. When he isn’t looking, Carlos mouths gestures between us with enthusiasm, mouthing, “You’re together?” I blush scarlet and nod gracefully, receiving a sassy snap and a head swing from Carlos in response.
Jackson joins us, looking statuesque in platform heeled boots to accompany the all-black attire that is the salon’s dress code. His platinum blonde hair is radiant and makes him look devilishly angelic. Omg, is he Light? He is certainly attractive enough. I stealthily give Dorian a sideways glance, only to see a subtle head shake in response. Of course not. Dorian would know.
Jackson gives me a brilliant smile, showcasing his gleaming white, perfect teeth. He has got to be the prettiest man I’ve ever seen aside from Dorian. “I just want to come over and say hi, babe,” he purrs. “X is back at my station; stop by. I know he’d love to see you.”
I see Jackson whisper something to Carlos and look at me. Carlos nods excitedly, causing Jackson to flash me a wink. He grabs a pair of shears from Carlos’s station before waving at both Dorian and I and returning to his task.
“So, anyway,” Carlos says hands still propped on his hips. “My birthday is this Friday and we’re having a little party down at that new club Aria. I really want you to come. Both of you,” he smiles.
I look up at Dorian hopefully, and am pleasantly surprised when he nods his approval. “Carlos, we’d love to,” I say. I would have gone without him, but having Dorian by my side doesn’t hurt.
“Great! Bring whoever you want; the more the merrier. And be ready to party because you know how we do!” he cackles.
Dorian hurriedly ushers me to his back office, giving me only a few seconds to stop and greet Xavier as Jackson cuts his chocolate brown hair into a stylish yet conservative style.
“So anything?” I ask once we are alone.
Dorian shakes his head and purses his lips in frustration. Other than Morgan, Carlos, Jackson, and Xavier, I didn’t recognize any of the other stylists or clientele. And most of them were too obviously enraptured with Dorian’s beauty to seem put off or defensive.
“But are you sure about Jackson? I mean, look at him. That can’t be natural.”
“No, Gabriella. He’s human.”
I tap my foot, trying to remember the faces of each client. “Oooh! Maybe the lady with the miniature dog. Aren’t the Light supposed to be animal lovers or something?”
Dorian shakes his head once again, walking to the desk to rifle through a pamphlet of papers. “No.”
“Or what about-”
“Dammit, Gabriella! I don’t fucking know who it is!” Dorian shouts before I can complete my thought. He glares at me through cold, wrathful eyes, obviously infuriated by my line of questioning. “Just shut up so I can think for a second. Shit.”
I do as I’m told and am compliantly silent, disgusted both with myself for obliging to his demands without resistance, and with him for treating me like a misbehaved delinquent. I would never take this from anybody else. Not even Jared. So why am I backing down now? Why am I letting Dorian disrespect and belittle me without even so much as an eye roll? What is happening to me? Has Dorian finally sexed me into stupefied submission?
The walk back to Cashmere is painfully quiet and tense, only making me more aware of my dejected spirit coupled with Dorian’s intense rage. Hard to believe that less than an hour ago, Dorian had me bent over my desk, showing me just how deep his love goes. Now there is only disdain and aggravation etched in his face.
“I think you should go,” I say to him a few storefronts down from Cashmere.
Dorian exhales his irritation in a sharp huff and looks away, shaking his head in disbelief of my pettiness. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll stay until the end of your shift.”
“No. You should go,” I insist. “We’ll talk later.”
Dorian slightly softens his rigid expression, hoping to coax me into seeing things his way. “I need to be here with you. I need to protect you.”
“Protect me from what?” I snap angrily. “Because all I see is you chasing a ghost and treating me like shit because you feel inadequate. How can you help me when you can’t even help yourself? Hell, your own dad wants you dead. Maybe you’re the one who needs protection. Go home, Dorian. I don’t want or need you here.”
I turn on my heel and march to the boutique and don’t stop until I’m nestled safely inside the solace of my office. I flop into the swivel chair and let my ragged shoulders fall in defeat. I’m angry, frustrated, and hurt, yet I have no one to blame but myself. Only Dorian can wound me like this, stripping me bare of my strength and rebellion, because I’ve let him penetrate the parts of me that I’ve kept safeguarded for so long. Only he can push me to that place that causes me to speak so cruelly out of hurt and anger, revealing just how extremely immature I truly am.
What the hell is wrong with me? What have I just done?
Dorian confided in me and I didn’t hesitate to use his deepest secrets as ammunition. He’ll never forgive me; I’ll never forgive myself. He must think I am just some petty, selfish, reckless child, and he wouldn’t be far off. He will see me for what I truly am, not the person I have wanted to be since the day I met him. Someone that is worthy of his affections. Even without the link that ties our lives together, his disapproval kills me.
I come home later that evening, half expecting to find Dorian waiting in my room but come up disappointed. Part of me is relieved; I’m not ready to face him or admit the power he has over me. Yet the honest part of me is suffering inside, feeling weak and depleted. I still want him, even though he has demeaned me, and I hate myself for feeling that way. I need him to feel safe, to feel whole. But why would he come here after what I’ve said to him? I pretty much told him that he’s failed me, making me just another person in his life that sees him as a disappointment.
Once again, my big mouth has hurt someone that I love. And even if Dorian hurt me first, there’s no excuse for what I’ve said. I am no better than his father. No, actually I’m worse. I knew how to hurt Dorian, I knew what triggers took him to his dark place, and I did it anyway.