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CHAPTER SEVEN

ZAND

T here was something about Chanel, something special, fresh, alluring. She was unique. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I couldn’t sleep thinking about her. She was in my dreams. She was in my waking thoughts. I hoped she would accept my invitation for a tour.

When she magically appeared at The Castle, I had to fight to keep my composure. I fought to hold back a smile. This was the feeling I had when I liked a girl in high school. I hadn’t felt this way in a very long time and I felt this way about Chanel.

Stunning was the first word that came to my muddled mind. Chanel was even more beautiful than she was yesterday. She showed up in a sexy, sandrift-colored fitted dress. I wanted to rip from her body. Did she wear it for me? Was she trying to tempt me? Did she know how good she looked in this dress?

Something about this particular woman rocked my confidence. That feat was rather difficult for any woman. I was always on an elevated level of arrogant. I would never claim that all women were the same, but I never felt such warmth radiating from any other woman.

Her alluring brown eyes seemed to gaze deeper into me than I wanted to acknowledge. It could all be in my head, but there was a tingle in the air, a chemistry that I was sure that I wasn’t making up in my wild, kinky imagination whenever she was near.

I ushered her down the hall toward the elevator. I tapped the button for the third floor. As soon as the elevator doors closed, I entangled our arms and held her hand. I squeezed her palm. This felt familiar, but I was sure I’d never met her in the past.

“You okay?” I breathed between exhaling.

“Yes.” She didn’t look at me. She was anxious. I could almost hear her rapid heartbeat in the quiet of the elevator. “What’s on the third floor?”

“The members’ only private lounge, a few dressing rooms and several offices.”

“Oh.”

We both remained silent until the elevator doors opened. I guided her out of the small metal box. Instead of pulling her behind me, I walked a pace suitable for the very sexy high heels she wore.

“Zand.”

“Yes.”

“Do you work here?”

“Uh, I wouldn’t call it working.” I raised an eyebrow while she wasn’t looking. I stopped in the doorway of one of the dressing rooms. “This is the room for the main talent, mainly recording artists and their entourage.”

“It looks nice.”

“It’s been remodeled.”

I never gave tours, but I wanted to impress her. But I also didn’t want to look like a braggadocious prick. I wasn’t sure if I was succeeding. It was important for me to be cool, although I wanted to fuck the shit out of this woman. I could only imagine how divine her hot molten orgasm would feel coating my cock.

Chanel stepped into the room, pulling me in behind her. She was leading me and I loved it. It also gave me a split second to salivate over her nice, perfect ass. She examined the walls laced with framed photographs of famous and not so famous celebrities. I’d seen these photographs a thousand times. I instead examined her glowing, exposed skin.

“Have all these people performed here?” She asked.

“Yes, everyone on the wall has performed on the stage.”

“That’s very cool.”

“Honestly, some of the younger artists I don’t know their music. I’m getting too old. It’s hard to keep up with the newer talent.”

“You’re not getting old.” Her lips twisted in disbelief.

“Huh, well, age is relative.” I countered.

“How old are you?”

She wanted information, and that was a good sign for me. She was interested in me. “You really want to know?”

“Yes, I’m thirty-two. Now it’s your turn.” She batted her long eyelashes at me. They were her real lashes. I hadn’t seen real lashes in a while. Fake ones appear to be the rage for a few years now.

“I’m twenty-eight.” Going on one hundred and four. “Do you have something against older men?”

“You mean younger men.” She corrected.

“Yeah, younger men like me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Four years isn’t a big age difference.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, it’s not at all.”

“There’s an invitation only Halloween costume party coming up in two weeks if you’re interested.”

“Are you going to be there?” She inquired.

“Yes. It’s no pressure, but you’re invited. We can go together or you can meet me here.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please.” Did I just say please?

“No, it’s just a costume. You said a costume party. I don’t have a costume. I haven’t dressed up for Halloween in years.”

“How many years?”

“Like five years. ”

“You have time to find something.”

“Are you wearing a costume?”

“Yes, I will be in costume.” Little did she know I was always in costume.

“What are you going to be?”

“My costume never changes. I will be a vampire.” Chanel laughed. “Is that funny?” I needed to hear her answer.

“No, no, it’s just vampires have been done so many times.”

“That is true. But it’s easy. I already wear black every day.”

“Yeah, you do.” She agreed.

“There’s literally no work on my part.”

“But change is good.”

“Okay, if not a vampire. What do you suggest?”

She shrugged her bare, delicate shoulders. “I don’t know, Iron Man, Captain America, something like that.”

“Superheros?”

“What’s wrong with superheros?”

“Kid’s costumes? You know, at twenty-eight, I am considered an adult male.”

“You would make a great Iron Man or Tony Stark.”

“I will consider it.” And I would, just for Chanel. “There’s more to see.”

I took her hand again, and I led Chanel down the blood red hall.

“How do you like the red walls?” I asked.

“Very colorful.”

“I helped paint them. I haven’t done that in years. The interior decorator and events coordinator wanted to add a splash of color. The walls used to be gray. There was bright red paint everywhere for a week until a real painter showed up and fixed the mess we’d made.”

“I like the red walls. It’s jazzy. The third floor is completely different from downstairs.”

“It’s modern décor here and the main floor is more, I don’t know. ”

“Game of Thrones.”

“Yes, if Game of Thrones and Medieval Times had a baby.”

“Exactly.” She giggled.

Once down the hall, I led Chanel to the closest room with the steel door. The door was open, but it was the only door of its kind in the building. I stepped inside with Chanel, closing the door behind me. Natasha and Nick were sitting together and watching the CCTV monitors.

“This is the security room.” Our presence in the room alerted Natasha. Her shoulder length platinum blonde hair bounced as she turned her swivel chair to look at us. She stood and made her way across the room to engage us.

“Zand, you’ve bought a guest.” Natasha’s thick Russian accent bounced around the walls.

“Yes, this is Chanel. Chanel, this is Natasha. She’s head of security.”

“Nice to meet you.” Chanel gave Natasha a cautious wave.

“It’s nice to meet you as well. What are your pronouns?”

“I don’t ah.” Chanel muttered. “I.”

“She, her.” I offered. I wanted to help her out.

“Are you straight or bi?” Natasha abruptly inquired. There was no way I was going to share Chanel with any man or woman. Natasha needed to back off.

“Straight.” Chanel offered a single word. She was completely taken aback by the question, respectfully, of course.

Natasha poked her lips out and rolled her eyes. “Too bad for me. You are very beautiful, very sexy.” Natasha raised an eyebrow as she chewed her bottom lip.

“Th, th, thank you.” Chanel stumbled over her pleasantries. Was this the first time she was hit on by a woman? I found that hard to believe.

Before a wave of discomfort took over, I decided it was time to leave the room. I had to get away from the Russian temptress. She had a way with women and bedded more babes than me. I wasn’t jealous, but I think her Chechen accent really turned women and certainly man on.

“Zand, there was a call for you from someone named Gillian. I didn’t recognize that voice or the number.”

“Gillian.” I didn’t mean to repeat the name, but I was a bit taken aback.

“Da.” She confirmed in German.

Gillian, a name I hadn’t heard in a long time, and I wished it had been longer. My face twisted as I tried to keep all my emotions in check.

“Zand.” Natasha called to me.

“Yes.” I snapped back into the moment.

“Is this someone I should know?”

“No, not at all. But he isn’t someone I would call a friend.”

“So what do I do if he calls back?”

“Send the call to me immediately.”

“Da.” Natasha’s eyes left me to rest on Chanel. “We can discuss this at a later date?”

“Yes, we can.” I appreciated her ending this conversation. Just the mention of Gillian rattled me and sent a barrage of questions directly to my brain.

I seized Chanel’s wrist and pulled her into the hallway. After a few more stops, I lured her into my private office.

“This is the manager’s office.” I closed the door when we were both inside the spacious room. “It has a lot of amenities.” I waved my hand to the right. “Its own private bathroom with a bathtub and shower, a small kitchen with appliances.”

“Nice. Where’s the manager?”

“There are a few managers. Someone manages the bar, the events. Natasha manages security, the grounds, the maintenance.”

“Who manages the entire place?” She was thinking about it. I could tell by the inquisitive look in her dark eyes. “Is it okay that we’re in his office?”

“It’s cool. I know the owner. ”

“You do?”

“Yes, we go way back. He’s a recluse that lives alone, in a basement apartment, just a few blocks away. Some people think he’s quite bizarre.”

I took a seat in the huge black leather chair behind the glazed marble desk.

“Zand.” Her eyes squinted as they focused on me. “You own The Castle?” Disbelief marred her voice but didn’t stop her from asking.

“I do.” I let my words sink in. Her face didn’t change, and that I took as a good sign. “Please take a seat.” Chanel stepped into the plush chair on the opposite side of the marble desk. Her descent into the chair was elegant. Seeing her move was a sight to behold. She was graceful like a dancer. I couldn’t be the only one under her spell.

“No, seriously?” She questioned. There was something cute about her disbelief.

“Yes, seriously.”

“No, bullshit?”

“No, bullshit.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Her eyes beckoned me to be truthful.

“It’s better to show than tell. I didn’t want to look like an asshole. Saying certain things too quickly can make you look like an asshole.”

“How is that?”

“I can’t really say, hey neighbor, I own a nightclub. I can get you in for free. Sounds like a total lie.”

“No, it wouldn’t. It doesn’t. Not coming from you. I get— I tell the truth vibes from you.”

“I believe that is a compliment.”

Chanel smiled. “It is. Your place, the club, is nice, really nice.”

“Thank you. The employees keep it that way. I have a great team of people that are good at their jobs. ”

“Why do you live in the basement apartment and not here?”

“The law, Chicago law. This area, this block and this building are commercial property and not residential. Basically, it’s against the law to take up residency. I live close by. I can walk over and be here anytime I need to be.”

“Do you think it’s wise to walk the streets at night alone?”

“I do okay. I know how to scream and run.”

She giggled. “Yeah, that’s good. Not very effective on the streets of Chicago.”

“Were you applying to be my bodyguard?”

“No, no, I only know how to scream and run, too.”

This time, I had to smile. Her words, her phrases, her sentences were charming.

Our conversation flowed without any awkward silences. We enjoyed a few hours together. We had a few drinks, and we even danced together on the crowded dance floor. I could dance, but I didn’t dance. I wanted to please her. Whatever she wanted, I was obliged to give her. Seeing her happy produced a tingle inside my body. It was more than the twitch in my cock. I couldn’t ignore it.

We left together in her car. She didn’t want me to walk home alone, and I thought her protective nature was adorable. She was a decent human being. I envied her.

She parked, and we both walked toward the back door of the apartment. She was going to have to go upstairs to her apartment. I was going to have to go downstairs to my apartment. I didn’t want this to end. But I didn’t want to come on too strong. I had to think fast. When we stepped into the apartment building, I had to say something.

“Chanel, do you want to come over for a drink?”

She paused. “Yeah, sure.”

I couldn’t contain my smile. So I turned to hide my face. I turned to the stairwell and started walking down. Chanel was right behind me. I moved slowly because I knew she was in high heels.

I put my key in the door and opened it wide enough for Chanel to walk through first. I entered behind her and switched on the light. I watched her as she looked around the open living area. I kept a clean and neat living space. It was a habit I inherited from my father.

“So, this is your place on the inside?”

“You look like you disapprove.”

“No, no. I don’t know what I expected. Your door is black.”

“Did you expect a grubby, ancient dungeon?” I joked.

She giggled. “No, it’s just you’re in the basement, the only apartment in the basement. I didn’t think the basement apartment would be so nice and big.”

“It looks big because I don’t have much furniture.”

“You’re a single man. You don’t need much. But your place is really nice.”

“Thank you.”

“Maybe I can see your place one day.”

Chanel turned to look at me. Her shoulders rose in a slight shrug. “Maybe.” She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her shoulders.

“I can turn the heat up.” I rushed over to the thermostat and adjusted the temperature. I turned back to Chanel. “I tend to have it too cold most of the time.”

“It’s not you. I’m always cold.”

I rushed over to her and rubbed her arms up and down with my hands. “Your arms are cold.”

Her skin was smooth, sugary, and sweet. I pulled her in close to me. She smelled like cotton candy. My senses went into a dreamlike state as I pulled her in closer to me. I remembered the taste of cotton candy and I recalled being fond of it, just as I was fond of her.

Her scent was meant to seduce me. It was working. The things I wanted to do, but I couldn’t. I had to be gentle. I didn’t want to scare her away. On occasion, I was known to be a bit scary in the bedroom. I had to refrain from showing her that side of me. She wasn’t ready, and I wanted to savor her insides a few times before we parted. She was sure to dismiss me eventually and I couldn’t blame her. I was not the long-term relationship type.

My nose brushed against her hair, and I got a whiff of coconut. My hands snaked around her back, and I felt my cock jerk. There were so many lovely scents bouncing off one woman. How did other men resist her? I had to use so much restraint.

“Zand.” Her voice knocked me out of my trance.

“Yes.” I pulled back to look at her radiant face.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, yes, it’s right around the corner. First door on the left.” I removed one hand from her body to point toward the bathroom. I removed the other hand to let her step away from me. I watched her walked down the hall to the bathroom.

If I had the mind to mate, she would be perfect for me. But I would never choose a bride. I had been there and done that and vowed to never let another woman have that much control over me. I would never commit, submit, or permit a woman to have all of me.

Women were good for sex, sometimes conversation and nothing more than that. I stood by this mantra.