When the Sun Goes Down Read online

  Seeing that I’m completely going against my better judgment and wearing blue and silver tonight, I opt for my grey metallic demi cup bra with the matching thong. Sitting on my bed, I carefully slide my iridescent thigh highs up my perfectly toned legs and hook them to the grey garters. Stockings and garters are a must for me anytime I leave home after sunset. This is one rule that can’t be broken. When I slide the sleek, delicate material onto my body and attach it to the clasps that perfectly frame my tight ass and sweet pussy, a switch goes off in my head — a switch that locks away any sliver of goodness left in my soul and turns me into a fierce predator with only one goal in mind ~ to dominate and destroy.

  I glance at the clock and see that it’s a few minutes past ten, which means that I need to get a move on. I quickly slip into my dress and shoes, then take one last look at myself in the full length mirror. I should feel bad for the men who cross my path tonight. Too bad I don’t. I swallow down the last of my drink as I walk towards the front of the apartment. Stopping to rinse out my glass and placing it in the dishwasher, I then grab my clutch off the table and head out the front door.

  Emerging from the elevator, I give Andres, the nightly security guard, a quick smile and tip of my head, before escaping into the cool March night. Leo is waiting for me with the SUV, just as he is every night, and I hurry into the backseat of the black Range Rover. He closes the door behind me and hurries around to slide in the driver’s seat.

  “Where are we headed tonight, Miss Kat?” he asks as we pull away from my building.

  “The World Bar Trump Towers. I’m feeling feisty tonight and need some international blood.” I reply in a sharp tone. He glances up into the rear view mirror and catches my eye. His expression speaks volumes, but he’s smart enough to not say anything.

  I raise my eyebrows at him. “Do you notice anything different about me tonight, Leo?”

  “You’re not wearing black, Miss Kat,” he says without even having to think.

  “You’re always so observant. I really don’t pay you enough.”

  “You pay me more than enough, but thank you for the compliment.”

  He smiles at me in the mirror, and I allow myself to return the friendly gesture. Being in his presence calms me like no other. He is the only male in my life that I never intentionally want to hurt, but I know that I still do. Daily. Our relationship is unconventional and most definitely unhealthy. He is the closest thing I know to love, yet it’s still so fucked up that I’m not even sure that’s the correct terminology for it. I know he loves me, and I care about him as much as I can, but that’s not saying much.

  Before I can spend any more time thinking about Leo, we pull up to the building and he hops out of the car to come open my door. I take his offered hand and slide down off of the black leather seat. As my feet hit the ground, I give him a quick peck on the cheek. “This shouldn’t take long,” I tell him, and he simply nods knowingly. I stride confidently though the door, and once inside, I scan the room swiftly before making my way to the lit up marble bar. Every person present, both male and female, watches as I make my way across the room. I feel their eyes on me, and instead of making me uncomfortable as it would many people, I feed off the attention.

  The bar is quite crowded for a Monday, which pleases me immensely — more of a menu to choose from. I select the open chair in between two men who both appear to be there alone. The one on the left is a little old for my liking, but the one on the right caught my eye immediately. The bartender, dressed in his white tux, scurries to greet me.

  “What can I get for you to drink this evening, ma’am?”

  “Grey Goose Martini. Dry, dirty, and with a twist, please.” He nods his head with a smile and steps away to make my drink.

  “There’s nothing sexier than a beautiful woman who knows how to order a drink,” the older gentleman says to me. I refrain from rolling my eyes and swallow back the words that I want to say. It’s time to play the game.

  I look over at Grandpa and grin. “How sweet of you to call me beautiful; thank you so much.” One good look at his face and I know that even if his age didn’t rule him out, his uni-brow would’ve. Thankfully, the bartender arrives with my drink at the perfect time to end this conversation that’s barely started. I thank him and take a sip of the cocktail. Perfection.

  “That has to be the poorest attempt at a chat up I’ve ever heard,” a deep voice with a thick British accent murmurs in my right ear.

  Smirking, I turn slightly to get a better look at the other guy sitting next to me. I do a quick assessment ~ early thirties, attractive face, full head of medium brown hair, nice teeth, not overweight. Yep, I think I found a winner… or a loser, depending on whose point of view you’re considering.

  “A chat up, eh?” I ask playfully. I lean in close to his ear and whisper, “Something tells me that a ‘chat up’ isn’t what he is really looking for.”

  He chuckles and shakes his head, then takes a long drink of the amber liquid in his rocks glass. “Something tells me that you’re a smart girl.”

  I smile my most innocent smile and lock my eyes on his. “I’m fucking brilliant,” I say with a serious face. He stares at me for a second, almost as if he can’t believe I just dropped the F-bomb, and then bursts out laughing.

  “Well bloody hell, aren’t you the best thing I’ve met since I’ve been here?” I beam back at him. He rearranges his body position slightly so that his knee is gently resting against mine before continuing. “I’m Benjamin, by the way.”

  “Nice to meet you, Benjamin. I’m Chloe,” I lie.

  And… game over. I win. The victories aren’t always this easy, I actually prefer when they put up a little more of a struggle, but tonight I’ll take it. Over the next forty minutes, I entertain him by pretending I care about his important marketing job and his growing up in London while sipping on my drink. I laugh when I’m supposed to, touch his arm and leg here and there, and pretend that I don’t notice him staring at my boobs. Finally, he asks if I’m interested in sharing a night cap at his place. After explaining that I’m not the kind of girl that goes to a stranger’s place, I suggest a hotel room. As his eyes light up and he adjusts his crotch, thinking that he’s sealed the deal, the disgust rolls through my body. They are all the same.

  Benjamin pays for both of our drinks and we walk out of the bar, hand in hand. Leo is waiting and ushers us into the vehicle. The surprise is evident on Benjamin’s face, but he refrains from saying anything. By the look of his clothing and the Hublot timepiece adorning his left wrist, he’s no stranger to luxury, but I’m guessing that he wasn’t expecting this from me. Once we are both securely in the back seat and on our way to our destination, I twist in my seat and place my hand high up on his thigh.

  “Benjamin, would you be interested in playing a little game?” I ask, my voice dripping with sugary sweetness. He first looks down at my hand and then slowly brings his gaze up to my face.

  “Absolutely, my pretty little Chloe,” he replies with a shit-eating grin. His words make me want to vomit, but instead, I scoot my hand up a bit on his leg and bite my lip suggestively. He leans into me and lightly kisses my exposed neck. “Whatever you want to do, I’m good with,” he murmurs against my sensitive skin.

  I reach underneath my seat and pull out a piece of heavy black fabric. Crawling onto his lap and straddling his thighs, I gently brush my lips across his before tying the blindfold around his eyes. I feel him tense a little bit as I take away his sight and the excitement begins to bloom inside of me. Next, I retrieve the metal restraints and cuff his wrists together behind his back.

  “You’re a kinky little thing, aren’t you?” I can hear a trace of fear in his voice but the bulge in his pants that continues to grow tells me that he’s eager for what he thinks is about to happen.

  “You have no idea, Benjamin,” I respond in a husky voice. Seeing him so vulnerable, without the ability to see or move his hands, has my body humming. “You won’t forget this ni
ght for quite some time.” I look over my shoulder to get Leo’s attention and twirl my finger in the air, indicating that I just want him to drive around. This isn’t going to take long; I’m losing interest in this guy before the fun has even started. Briefly, I question what is wrong with me, hoping I’m not growing soft, but then I look down at my dress and I know… I should’ve worn black. It’s my own fault for breaking the rules.

  Turning my attention back to him, I lazily begin to unbutton his dress shirt to expose his chest to me, followed by unfastening his belt and dress pants. I skillfully pull his pants and boxers down over his hips until they are around his ankles. His medium-sized cock is standing at complete attention and I can see his pulse racing in his neck. I climb back on his lap, pulling my dress up around my waist and begin to grind my panty-covered pussy on his bare cock. The neckline of the dress pulls down easily along with my bra, so I pop my boobs out and stick them up to his mouth. He needs no words of encouragement; he quickly draws one of my nipples into his mouth and begins sucking forcefully. I increase the speed and pressure of my movements while he devours my breasts; my pussy’s growing more and more wet as I anticipate what’s about to happen.

  Suddenly, I pull my hardened nipple from his mouth and turn around in his lap. My back now to his chest, I roll my hips around so that his jumping cock is nestled in between my ass cheeks and my clit is firmly pressing down on his tight balls. I reach down and slide two of my fingers into my slick opening, rubbing my juices all over my mound. I know he can smell my excitement, and with the way he’s writhing around underneath me, I know that he’s dying to touch me. He keeps lifting his hips up to press further into me, but each time he does, I stop moving until he relaxes back into the seat.

  I continue the torturous treatment for several minutes, bringing myself closer and closer to my release, but never following through. I lift my hand to my breasts — pinching and pulling on my nipples — making them even harder than they were. I catch Leo watching in the rearview mirror and I smile at him, knowing that he’s enjoying the show. Nearing the end of my playtime, I dip my fingers inside my hot core once again and lean back onto Benjamin.

  “Taste me,” I instruct him as I place my fingers on his mouth. Like a starved animal, he opens his mouth and begins sucking and licking my sweet juices off of my hand.

  “Fuck, Chloe, you taste even better than I imagined,” he growls. “Please, bury my cock inside of that sweet pussy. I’m dying here.” I pull my hand from his greedy mouth and evilly laugh as I climb off of his lap. The SUV comes to a gradual stop in an unpopulated alley.

  “Funny choice of words, asshole. Unfortunately, you have no idea what dying really feels like, but you and your blue balls are sure to be uncomfortable while hanging out in the cold.” The door opens and Leo grabs him by the arms, pulling him out of the car. He’s yelling expletives and thrashing around, but he’s pretty helpless without the use of his hands and not being able to see. Before I close the door, I call out to him, “I’m sure you’ve fucked over a female in your life at some point. Consider this payback.”

  Moments later, we’re speeding away from his pitiful ass and on our way to my Central Park apartment. I continue to play with myself the entire drive back, not caring in the least that Leo watches; he always does.

  We pull into my parking spot and he escorts me up the elevator and through the front door. Once inside, he undresses me in my lust-hungry state, and then licks me until I cover his face with my sweet cream. He really does the most amazing things with his mouth — lapping, curling, sucking, and nipping until my body quakes violently with relief. Then he carries me to bed and tucks me in, kissing me on my forehead.

  “Goodnight, Leo. Thank you for taking care of me,” I mumble sleepily.

  “Yes ma’am, Miss Kat. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And he disappears.

  I arrive at work early Tuesday morning so that I can leave Mr. Ellis’ now stain-free Polo on his desk, without having to see or talk to him again. Visions of his bare chest and abs have been dancing through my mind for the better part of the morning and its really starting to irritate me. I’m still mad at myself for not yelling at him for that stunt. How dare he take his clothes off in an elementary school? What if one of the kids would’ve come back in because they left something? He obviously is an immature, egotistical ass that doesn’t care about keeping the job that he just started. Just thinking about it infuriates me.

  Slamming the car door without meaning to, I hurry across the blacktop as the sun is just beginning to peek out over the horizon at this early hour. This is not the best of neighborhoods and walking alone outside — especially in the dark — is not recommended and something I rarely do. As soon as I reach the building, I release the breath I’m holding and slip inside the door. I quickly make my way to Ms. Jordan’s classroom only to find the door locked. Shit! I didn’t think about this. I try using the several school keys that I have, including the one to my own room, but unfortunately, none of them work. Frustrated and even more irritable, I trudge off to the lounge to grab some coffee.

  Thankfully, there isn’t anyone else in there so I’m not forced to make small talk. I hastily make a quick cup, add my milk and sugar, and head out to my room. I’ve just about made it to my safe haven, or at least it had been until yesterday, when I hear someone call my name from behind me.

  “Miss Foster? Is that you?” I know who that annoying, nasally voice belongs to without even turning around. Groaning internally, I plaster on my fake smile and spin around on my heel.

  “Good morning, Principal Matthews. How are you today?” He makes his way towards me, sucking in his gut and puffing out his chest as if it makes a difference in hiding his awful personality.

  “It’s great to see you here so early. I love when my teachers are so eager to please.” It’s not just the double meaning of the words he uses, but the disgusting tone behind them as well, that makes me want to hurl all over his shoes.

  Before I have a chance to reply, he looks down my body, probably to stare at my boobs, and asks, “Bringing a change of clothes to work?”

  Confused, I look down at the shirt draped over my arm. “Oh, no, this is Mr. Ellis’. He needed me to get some stains out of it for him,” I explain.

  He raises his eyebrows at me and smirks. “Wow, Trina, you work fast… yesterday was just his first day. I knew you were hiding something behind the big glasses, bun, and frumpy clothes you wear every day. Maybe you and I can go out for happy hour one afternoon,” he suggests, placing his hand on my shoulder.

  I step out from under his touch, keeping the smile on my face even though I really want to throw my hot coffee on him and knee him in the balls. “No sir, you’ve completely misunderstood; I gave Mr. Ellis a bloody nose yesterday by hitting him in the face with a door. However, you are right, I am hiding something… a team of attorneys that wouldn’t think twice about suing you and the school system if you imply anything such as you just did or touch me ever again,” I say in my sweetest voice possible.

  He sniggers, “You’re an elementary school music teacher; you couldn’t afford one attorney much less a team. Not to mention, it would be my word against yours. I’ve been a principal for over fifteen years and never had a single complaint; you’re a second year teacher with no family or friends.” My eyes widen at his statement. How the hell does he know anything about my personal life? “You look surprised. I’ve done my research, Miss Foster, and I know more than you think. You should tread carefully if you want to keep your job, and meeting me for a drink one afternoon would be a step in the right direction.” He reaches up and strokes my cheek before turning around and walking away, whistling You Are My Sunshine. I hate him. And I hate that song.

  I slink into my room as tears begin to fall down my cheeks. I had a bad feeling about that man when I interviewed for this job, but there weren’t many openings available, so I accepted the position and have tried my hardest to just go unnoticed. Most men make my skin
crawl, but he… after what just happened, he makes me murderous. I set the shirt and mug down and sit on the edge of my desk. I can’t help it, I begin sobbing to the point I’m shaking. It’s more than him just coming on to me, I’m petrified about what he’s learned about me and my past. I bury my face in my hands as I try to hide the tears and regain my composure when two strong arms wrap themselves around me. Frightened, I peek out over the tops of my fingers into two different colored eyes overflowing with compassion and kindness. Lucca.

  I can’t get in the bath fast enough this evening. I need the jets to power wash away my awful day and the bubbles to carry me to a happier place. It’s only Tuesday and it’s been one of the worst weeks that I can remember in a long, long time. The icing on the cake was the phone call from my step-mom this afternoon.

  “Hello, Viv. What does he want?” I answer the phone, thankful I didn’t grow up in the pre-caller ID generation.

  “Well, aren’t you delightful, as usual,” she replies in her snotty voice. “You’re father wants to know if you’ve come to your senses and are going to come visit your little brother.”

  Sighing loudly in her ear, I tell her the same thing I’ve told her for the last six months. “Look, I’m sure he’s a real cute baby, and nothing against him, but he’s not my brother… just like your husband is not my father.”

  “You’re an ungrateful, little spoiled bitch, you know that? I’m not sure why Bobby even tries with you.”

  “Touché” is my only response before I disconnect the call.

  There are so many things I want to say to her. The fact that she’s only a couple of years older than me and talks to me like I’m a child is probably what drives me the most crazy about our conversations. She’s a gold-digging, power-hungry whore that got all of her prayers answered when he got her pregnant. I would tell her that again, but it really does no good, and I’ve just stopped caring. They are not a part of my life.