In Hugs of Dream

“Ladies and gentlemen, everything is fine, everybody is alive, nobody hurts, please come back to celebrating until we put into shape,” Alex said in a tense voice. Angie didn’t even raise her head up, she understood clearly that the whole audience was looking at them. All she wanted was to sink into the ground. God damned those pills. She felt that Alex was going somewhere but she didn’t move. Alex went into the lift, pushed the fifty-eighth button and carefully put the girl to the floor.

“Can you stand? Or maybe, should I call for a wheelchair for you?” a soft baritone sounded over her ear.

Angie looked at him through the sheet of her wet from champagne hair and froze. He was much more handsome than in magazines and the Net. He eyes of astonishing blue color watched smiling that actually made her glad. Everything happened so fast that she couldn’t invent a story to tell.

“Thank you,” she whispered in a husky voice, trying to move away from him, “but I can stand on my feet.”

He nodded silently and turn away. Angie, otherwise, couldn’t take her eyes from him. She had to admit that her perfect plan had some defects: if somebody of them could seduce, it was he. His sexual energetics filled the small space of the lift so quickly that she felt it on the physical level. The masculinity was reflected in every feature of his haughty face; she studied his proud profile, straight aristocratic nose, arrogant chin, sensual manly mouth, which crooked in a light sneer and felt waves of light vibration shaking her bode from the top to the heels. “God, he is just irresistible!” she thought. Her gaze moved and got caught up to the mirror wall of the lift. “God, who is this?” the thought run through her mind and for the second time on that day a wave of desperation covered her. She was in one lift with a walking sex machine and looked like a winy seamaid. Wet hair was hanging like icicles covering her face and breasts, one eye which avoided the fate of his brother being buried under the layer of her hair was in a captivity of flowing mascara. She felt utterly discouraged. So here was the seduction of a millionaire. In this form she could pour whiskey into him only with a force that didn’t fit her physical training level. She mournfully sighed and lowered her head. Bad luck today!

Alex was standing straight and looking at his companion with the corner of his eye, she was similar to a little kitten, who was poked into the milk with its face; so touchingly helpless and… wet. It all could be very funny, if not the fact that his tender bits were burning because of the quite impressive kick of her slim leg, which was shown flirty from the dress slit. The leg was dainty; the figure was good too, but her face was hard to be seen though he could more or less suggested that there was everything according to the price of the plastic surgeon. As the today’s world demanded. All that he had already seen, touched and tasted. Possibly he had a simple depression, even if the women made him feel boring. Thus, in a complete silence they reached the fifty-eighth floor. Lift doors opened and they came into the entrance hall with two massive oak tables on each side and a white carpet in the middle. Alex opened the door with his key and, giving her a bow, pronounced:

“Welcome to the holy of holies, milady. You didn’t name yourself, how shall I address to you?”

“Carrie Meeber,” Angie barely audibly soughed, calling the name one of her favorite characters, hoping that Mr. Perfection didn’t read American Classics’ books and went into the office. Through the layer of her hair, she saw a big room with an artificial fireplace and a huge table behind which there was the stained glass window and the whole New York was observed through it, like on the palm. She stood still for a second from such a magnificence, comparing it to her study in the restaurant which now seemed to be a mouse’s hole. She slowly approached to the window and saw the same picture that Alex had been observing from this place an hour ago. Big city never slept.

“If you want to take care of yourself, Carrie,” she heard a soft baritone behand her back, “you may go to the shower-room till I’ll change clothes.”

It didn’t slip away from her that he pointed out her name making it stressed. Possibly, except business papers he still read classics. However, it would be better for her sake if he didn’t. Not raising her head, she stole past Alex to the shower-room. Appeared in it, she immediately slammed the door behind her and leaned to it. Nervous tension and flu pulls brought her to the complete exhaustion. She slowly took her hair away from her face and observed one more miracle room. Decorated with black marbles and huge mirror to the floor the shower-room represented itself the wonder of the up-date technologies. The shower cabin was separated with the glass partition and had built into the wall sprays, which could change the direction depending from the adjustments. Really, she was like the newcomer from the cave, who firstly saw the real world. She sat down on the puff standing near the towel box and let herself to take another breath and thought calmly. The events of last ten minutes ran through her head. Here she was coming directly to Alex holding a glass of champagne at hand. Here was a moment, when she was a bit swung, damn flu pills, the following moment she tripped over, and here she almost recovered her balance, just a little bit… and then there was a sudden harsh kick to her shoulder. And as it was in the slow motion, she nosedived rightly onto the dream of all female America. How was it sung in the song? Something like: “I’m a loser, baby, so why don’t you kill me?” Yeap, it wasn’t her day today for sure”.

She came to the sink and, throwing her fair curls back, washed her face, made new wings, colored her eyelashes and slightly touched her lips with the lipstick. She fluffed her humid hair putting it to the side to make pomper those icicles. She glanced at the mirror and was satisfied. In spite of the feverish shine in her eyes and pinky cheeks and… God, the end of her nose too, she looked hot enough. Powdering her face a bit, she held her head up, straighten her shoulders and left her chic sanctuary. She still felt sick and swayed from the illness but it wasn’t the time for her to give up, she had to lead all this till the end.

From the opposite side of the office Alex came out buttoning his shirt. Humid, dark hair waved a little over his forehead. Angie made a gasp, when she saw his flat, tough belly with vivid cubes and light hair path going down. Such a perfect press she saw only in magazines. She had a mad wish to come closer and checked the hard relieves with a touch. Making couple of steps, he lifted his head and stopped. His hands froze on the second button, blue eyes rounded in astonishment, when he saw a beautiful girl, who was watching him with her dark, cyan eyes and a foxy smile over her lips. Breath-taking, just unbelievably beautiful eyes. Combination of aristocratic accurate nose, lifted cheek-bones and plump natural lips blew up the imagination. His gaze lowered to her voluptuous breasts, thin waist and well-rounded hips. Her legs were hidden under the dress but he somehow was pretty sure they were slender and nice. Though, why it shouldn’t be checked. At least he had to prove his reputation of a Latin lover, which was created for him by the reporters.

He smiled and said pointing to Angie’s bag:

“Why don’t you put your suitcase?”

“Yes… No.”

“So is it yes or no?” he sneered slyly. “Feel yourself at home, Carrie. Would you like to drink something?”

“Don’t you need to come back to the party?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t think anything unusual can happen there without me. Moreover, my hair is still wet.”

He came to the ambry and pushed the button. The door slowly opened and Angie saw a mini bar. Alex plashed a little whiskey for him and turned to Angie raising his brow questioningly.

“I wouldn’t refuse form mineral water,” Angie answered. There was a desert in her throat and the room was going circles in front of her eyes. She quickly sat on the sofa.

He came back with two glasses, the one with mineral water he put ahead of her and sat on the opposite sofa. She saw penetratingly handsome, noble man who knew well what kind of effect he had on women. Everything was talking about that from his penetrating gaze of his blue, velvet eyes, strong hand brining the glass of whiskey to his lips to the loose pose he was sitting in. He, in his turn, saw a beauty girl with silk, milky skin, light natural blush on the cheek-bones and bush of fair hair tumbling down over her bare well-turned shoulders. The room was filled with invisible threads of sexual tension, which was sparkling in the air penetrating deeply under the skin of two strangers, who appeared in that room according to the will of the certain circumstances.

“Are you afraid of me, Carrie?” the husky voice sounded.

“Why do you think so?”

“Do you always answer questions?” she kept silence. He continued. “You are just pressing you glass with such strength that it seems to me it is asking for help”

Laughing, blue eyes pointed to the glass in her hands. She unhurriedly lowered her gaze and immediately understood what he meant. Her fingers convulsively clenched the glass so tightly that the fingertips became pale. She squirmed under his staring and quietly said:

“You are looking at me, as if I’ve got horns on my head.”

“Rather wing on your back,” Alex answered with a little smile. “You look like a little angel with innocent eyes, who had knocked me down in real and figurative sense.”

She blushed and made a sip of mineral water tormentingly thinking up an answer. It couln’t be said that she had never heard a word of a compliment in her life but that was the tone he used. Intense, silky baritone went under her skin making every inch of her body froze in long waiting. Sexual tension hadn’t let her from the moment she appeared in his hands.

“I didn’t plan this happened, just somebody pushed me and I couldn’t steady. I’m sorry,” she said quietly still trying to get out of the spider web of his charisma, which was sucking her in more and more with every second she spent with that man.

“If I find that person I will cash him a bonus.”

“For messing up you suit?”

“For making my evening from boring to intriguingly fascinating.”

His probing gaze went over her bare leg, which was opened for the observation. Angie was melting from his husky voice and sexual eyes but it was not the time and the place for the entertainment. She understood it with her brain but her body seemed to live its own life and needs. She drank more water and ordered herself to calm down and think clearly. No matter how appealing was that etalon of a male beauty, she came here not for becoming the next one-night amusement for that rich replete man. Her power wasn’t the beauty but her brain and she put a stake on it in this game. But the thing was that her brain being under the effect of pills refused to think clearly and sharply. Her thoughts were confused; her head was going around but all she needed was to get to his table. Really needed. What she could do to get him out of the room. A sudden idea came into her mind and she said:

“Do you fell some strange smell?”

Alex ran an eye over her and sniffed.

“When I was in the shower room it seemed that the strange smell was coming out from the ventilation system like somebody was smoking or something was burning somewhere but it was very strong. And I think I feel it, too, right now.”

“It’s weird,” Alex frowned, “smoking is allowed only in special rooms and if the fire is somewhere the safety system works immediately.” Nevertheless, he stood up and went to the shower room. It was exactly what Angie was wishing for, she opened her bag quickly and took a pack with white powder from a little pocket. The doctor prescribed such one to her father when he had bouts of insomnia. Angie dumped out it with trembling hands into his glass of whiskey, shook it a little and put it back on its place.

“No smell,” Alex’s voice sounded. “Or it seemed or somebody has already smoked and aired.”

He returned to his place and took his glass. Angie saw small parts of the powder in it and prayed to the God that he didn’t notice anything. He had to be taken away. Now.

“You’ve got a very nice office.” she nervously swallowed and came to the window. “And the panorama is amazing.” she turned to Alex. “Did you kill somebody to get it?”

“My soul. It seems that I had it before building this skyscraper.”

“Did you build it?” Angie’s eyes became round.

“I had projected it and hurried the contractors. They sincerely believed that I was the real resemblance of the Devil and secretly made crosses, when I turned my back.

“I wouldn’t say that. You’re too handsome for the Devil,” the girl softly mentioned and became horrified with her popped out hasty words.

Alex finished his whiskey with one shot and approached to Angie.

“You are beautiful, Carrie.”

He carefully got her hair off her face running his fingertips over her cheek. Her skin was silky by feel and very warm. He put her chin up slowly drawing a line with his thumb finger over her soft lower lip.

“I want to taste you.”

H slowly bended to her and devoted himself to the kiss. No matter what but kissing was his shot. He slightly touched her lips then tenderly sucked her upper one, after that the lower forcing them to open and captured them in an insatiable, burning liplock. His tongue mildly examined her mouth, penetrating deeper and deeper. Angie was drowning in that greedy, demanding kiss. Her deceitful body became light and submissive. All her feelings were tensed like bare wires, which the sexual sparks were running through. Alex continued unbearable, delicate seduction making Angie shiver from passion. His tongue teased, penetrated in the depth of her mouth and slowly went out and then rushed into it again, until Angie didn’t give up to the mercy of the winner and hogged clinging to his body continuing wild, incomparable to anything enjoyment. Their tongues merged together in a mad dance of desire and lust till their kiss was finally out of control. She was furiously kissing him burying her hands into his hair, while his hands greedily went over her breasts hips penetrating into the dress’s slit. Their figures united in one body were lighted up with the bright lights of New York. Continuing learning each other bodies with their hands, lips, tongues, they slowly approached right to the sofa. In a moment they lied on it being captured with a crazy desire. Angie appeared to be on the top and, sitting on him, she leaned back giving the free will to his hands, what he successfully used. He pulled down the upper part of her dress setting her breasts free and nestled with his mouth up to her sharp-edged nipples. He slowly and teasingly licked with his tongue over one nipple, until Angie didn’t arched towards his insatiable mouth. Being captured with that wild primal passion they were sinking in each other’s cuddles. Suddenly his hands stopped forcing her to his hips; his tongue didn’t torture her breasts with delightful kisses anymore. Angie lowered her head and saw that Alex leaned back to the pillow and… was sleeping. For some moment she became numb then the whole reality fell upon her. She had just been wriggling in a hugs of a stranger man being ready to give herself to him right here in his office. Her body was in a flame of lust and her bare breasts were watching straight at Alex. Angie shut her eye tightly from the horror and quickly slipped down from the coach pulling her dress up. It wasn’t her, it was all about the flu pills and champagne, which she had drunk at the party. They drove her crazy, darken all rational thought in her head and almost made her one-used girl for a night. She looked back at Alex. He was lying in a relaxing pose, one hand was hanging from the coach while the another one was on his belly, his eyes were closed. She was afraid, wasn’t the doze she had given him too strong? What would happen if he died? Oh God, could it be possible that she had killed the subject of desire of every woman in New York? She shook him on his shoulder in panic but he didn’t react. She bended over him to listen to his breath and with a relief heard his light snorting. He was simply sleeping.

Without losing the time Angie with unbending legs rushed to his table. Everything was swimming in front of her eyes; her head was splitting and the light nausea came to her throat. Organizing all her strength, she started to seek through his table. There had to be the envelope from Monte-South; the most important thing was that he hadn’t made it to read. But if all her reckonings were right, he had been supposed to get it yesterday. She prayed that the envelope was there still packed. She watched through all his mail and didn’t find anything. Where could he put it? She was ruminating on frantically, putting her fingers to her temples and slightly massaging them trying to reduce the pain. The desperation was invading her. She leaned back on the back of his president chair and closed her eyes; for a moment it seemed that the dream was wrapping her. She quickly threw open them and suddenly her look fell over the little table near the door. She didn’t believe her luck, there was a sheaf of the letters on it. Possibly, this table was especially for the new correspondence not to swamp the working table. She ran to it and picked the sheaf over with shaky hands. Huston, Jacksonville, Seattle, Kansas-City. Not that! There was such a feeling that this man was corresponding with all the States. Finally! She even screamed with delight. Monte-South2. That was it. That was the right letter. She put out a cuticle scissors from her bag and softly cut open big thick envelope. There was a report with full estimate and detailed description of the land that was in five kilometers from her town, where Covert Steel Production, one of Dimond-Westwood Enterprises companies, was planning to build the factory of the converts production which was necessary for steel manufacturing. These converts would be made as for the inner usage of Dimond-Westwood Enterprises factories so for the selling all over the world as a separate product. It offered a mega profit for Dimond-Westwood Enterprises. Angie knew it all and understood that where the big money was involved, nobody was going to think what kind of loss the building of such factory could bring to the area, where the places of leisure and camps were situated. Including the camp of her father. The place that became her own home since the moment her father had quit going all over the States and bought out a little camp near the lake. His whole life Darren Northon had been travelling from one state to another one, painting pictures and playing the guitar in different bars. After meeting with merry widow Marry Catwall, he understood that he was too old for such riotous life and decided to settle down. Almost all money was spent for the reconstruction of the camp, building new cottages, making a small football field, basketball court and the berth for boats. Darren and Marry didn’t simply lived with that place, they breathed with it. Her father painted his best pictures there inspired with an amazing nature and an unusual atmosphere of that place. Situated in the depth of the woods, surrounded with the mountains from one side and with a big lake Belnesh3 from the other one, the camp was a real resort for everybody desirous to get the best leisure in the world. In winter people came there to skiing and in summer to swim in the lake, catch fish and have long walks in the woods. Extraordinary warm aura being created by them became a home not only for her but for a huge amount of people coming to them every year. She quickly found the common ground with new father’s wife, who appeared to be a brisk, cheerful woman with big heart with no children of her own, that’s why she accepted Angie as her own one. For Angie she became a second mother after her aunt who had fostered her. The real mother she never knew. She was gone soon after Angie’s birth. Hard form of pneumonia. And now when she found her family, the building of that factory in several kilometers from the camp could lead to the catastrophe. Who would rest in the camp if the air wasn’t so much filled with an oxygen? Who would gather mushrooms from the ground polluted with factory’s emissions? Who would swim in the lake and catch fish in the water, which was affected as carcinoma with toxic industrial wastes? It would be death for the camp. And what would happen to her parents who dedicated themselves for creation of such magical place? It was too scary even to just think about it. That was the reason why she was sitting in the office of that man, who could destroy everything that had been created by her family during years, and trying to put the situation in which they had appeared because of DWE’s ambitions and greed right, at least in some way.

She glanced at sleeping Alex Dimond. His face relaxed in the sleep the rough expression was changed with the boyish one. He was undisputedly the most handsome man who she had ever met in her life given her the real whirlpool of passion. Remembering what had been going on in this room a few minutes earlier, her skin was covered with goosebumps. He didn’t do anything bad to her actually but his company aimed at the most important thing in her life, at the calm of her parents. She didn’t have any other way out. She accurately cut the thread which was the report sewn with and got out the inner content of it, then she took the same report from her bag, put the title and the last pages of Alex’s report to it, stuck the attaching with number of pages at the last list. Then she put the new report into the envelope and carefully glued it again, then put it back on the table to the other correspondence. The previous report she placed into her bag. The data in the new report were corrupted so much that the building of such factory was not only unprofitable but in fact impossible. Now she had to get out of there. When Alex woke up she would be far away from him and he would hardly understand what had happened in real. Overdid, drank and fell asleep. Pleasing herself with those thoughts Angie softly got up from her knees and felt the headrush again. Clenching her teeth, she made couple of steps, opened the door and froze. The pair of two black eyes were watching her cautiously.

“Who are you?” Maximillian Westwood asked.

Angie opened her mouth to answer him and everything went dark. Max only could hold out his hands and catch the falling girl. He stared at her in dismay. That was the same girl, who had fallen on Alex today. Evidently she had a day of fallings today. Or she was the another huntress for super rich husband and had casted out the lines for Alex who possibly slipped away from the set trap in some magically way and a real lady had nothing to do but try her charms of temptation on him. By the way where was Alex himself? Max peeped into the office and surprisingly saw his best friend and partner sprawling on the couch and slightly snorting.

“What the hell?” Max blew up.

CHAPTER 4

Max was measuring with his steps the hospital hall expecting for the doctor. He had a chaos in his head and he really needed to know what the hell had happened. He remembered the events of this evening with horror. Falling on his hands girl, his friend in a complete blackout, an ambulance and now it was the hospital. Concerning to the fact that he couldn’t stand the hospitals since the moment he had got into it after the car accident and all in blood a fourteen-year-old girl had appeared to be near him in an oxygen mask. And he was lying right beside her and watching, and as from the side he saw himself as a person who had taken the wheel being in alcohol and drug intoxication and was the one and only guilty in that accident. The accident, that caused them both being in one ambulance. Then the months of rehabilitation and alcohol and drug treatment followed. That accident had completely changed him and now he was the another person. But the memory of that horrible evening kept the disgust to the hospitals for the whole life. And now he was stuck here for the full hour in an expectation and complete ignorance, when finally, at least somebody would explain him what was going on. What happened in that office? Who was that girl? What happened to her? And at last, what happened to Alex?

Suddenly the door of Alex’s ward opened and the doctor came out of it. Max got up from the sofa and rushed to her.