13 comments/ 29336 views/ 31 favorites New York Flip By: lamoureuse Maggie's Story: Maggie looked at her reflection in the mirror over the Ladies' Room sink. She wiped away a tiny smudge from her eyeliner that virtually no one else would have noticed. Dipping into her purse, she reapplied lipstick. It was a new neutral shade they called "Cashmere" that made her well-formed lips look full and pouty. She suppressed the sigh that often sought release when she regarded her face, now showing signs of maturity and some tiny fine lines. She knew she shouldn't complain, because even though she was now forty-five, most people took her for almost ten years younger. But still - Maggie could see the inevitable march of time, and couldn't help feeling a little melancholy. To fortify herself, she spritzed a tiny bit of her favorite perfume on her breastbone before heading back out there. She was in the Ladies' Room of a fashionable lounge on the Lower East Side. Maggie's team at the office, a group of four women between the ages of 25 and 30, had chosen the venue. This was one of their quarterly team dinner nights; while Maggie had chosen the restaurant -- this time it had been a very hip Japanese place in Tribeca -- she'd left the after-dinner drinks choice to her team. They selected this ultra-cool cocktail lounge that required a reservation made by way of a secret, non-published phone number you could only get if you "knew someone". Maggie was happy that it was nearly the end of the week, and that her team had this opportunity to unwind and relax. She wished she could do the same. Work had been very stressful for the last several weeks, as they anticipated the firm's earnings announcements. She didn't relish having to deal with all the communications necessary next week, once her firm's executive management announced that they'd narrowly missed expectations and would have to go through yet another belt-tightening exercise. The financial services industry has been struggling since the tough summer of 2008, and her role as the chief of marketing and communications had been a particularly challenging one for the last several years, as a result. Still, she thought, she should be grateful, because they were better off than many. An alarming number of her industry acquaintances had been downsized in recent years and were still looking for work. As she made her way back to their table through the glamorous retro 1950s style bar, she saw that their group had been invaded by several men who seemed to be in their early thirties or so. Great, Maggie thought, here we go. She resolved to say her goodbyes as soon as she finished her drink and leave the younger women to their fun. It's not that she didn't date - since her divorce she dated quite a lot. She also was no stranger to the one-night stand. Maggie wasn't a prude by any means and had what might be characterized as a pretty healthy libido. It's just that in places like this one - clubs full of B-list models, C-list celebrities and Wall Street types in various states of inebriation - she would not even try to compete. Looking around, Maggie thought: I'm at least 15 years older and three dress sizes larger than most of the women here. As she approached her chair, Allison, a slim blonde 25-year old project manager, who happened to also be one of her most intelligent and ambitious direct reports, exclaimed her delight at Maggie's return. Her high-pitched voice was loud from too much bourbon, but she still managed to be very lady-like. She introduced Maggie to the men who had joined their table, and one nearest to her stood and smoothly pulled out her chair. Maggie only half-turned and caught a quick impression of the man that Allison introduced as Nick. She registered his height - he was very tall - and a mass of dirty blonde, stylishly mussed hair and dark clothes. "Oh, thank you. No need to get up." She said over one shoulder, a rather mechanical smile on her face. "Don't be silly. I was raised to stand up when a lady arrives." He countered. His voice was very deep and he exuded confidence. What a player. Maggie thought. Try that out on someone your own age. This almost made her laugh out loud at the self-deprecation, but she quickly stifled the impulse. As she sipped her drink, she scanned the other men around the table and quickly assessed which of her staff drew their interest. The one called Drew was focused almost exclusively on Allison. Maggie thought they'd make beautiful children. He was as dark as she was fair, and he had a similar patrician elegance. Probably also a trust fund baby, like her project manager. The man named Paul was more of the 'boy next door' type: like a former football player with a marshmallow center who was everyone's best friend. He seemed to be about 30 or so, and Katie, her logistics manager, seemed to think everything he said was absolutely hilarious. Ah, the mating dance, Maggie thought with a sentimental smile. To her right, Rob seemed intent on showing Jenna every app he had on his smart phone. They were now comparing their favorite music downloads. Maggie had witnessed how Jenna could turn a 350-lb Teamster into a quivering mass of jelly when she was angry, but right now she was giggling behind one hand like a Geisha. Rob had the look of an aging skateboarder-turned-IT executive, complete with the hipster eyeglasses. He was wearing a hoodie under his posh suede jacket, and sported a five thousand dollar watch on his wrist. "Where's Amy?" Maggie asked the crowd in general. Allison answered for the group. "She's over by the bar talking to Brad." Allison had to shout a little to be heard over the music that had just started playing. The lounge had a live band that evening - they played a sort of cool Latin fusion. Maggie had no idea who Brad was, but assumed he'd come with the rest of these guys. She jumped when she heard Nick's voice in her ear. She'd almost forgotten about him sitting to her left. "What are you drinking?" He asked. His arm was resting across the back of Maggie's chair as he leaned toward her to talk into her ear. When she leaned back to look at him, she came into contact with his lean muscles and flinched away almost as if she'd been burned. His eyes moved from her face to his arm and back again. A sardonic smiled crossed his face, which Maggie now looked at for the first time. Dammit, she thought. How ridiculously handsome is this one? He seemed to be in his mid-to-late 30s, or perhaps even older. For a brief moment she felt bad for him. He was the odd man out at this table. She speculated that this didn't happen to him very often. But, Maggie reasoned, he would not be in a solitary state for long - not with that "kisser", as her mother used to say. He looked at her, smiling enigmatically. His eyebrows shot up to emphasize the fact that he was waiting for an answer. "I'm sorry?" Maggie asked. He leaned even closer this time, his lips almost brushing her ear. "What are you drinking?" He asked again. His voice was the kind of deep baritone that usually made Maggie's knees weak. When he finished posing the question, he didn't move back more than an inch or two - so his face was still unnervingly close to Maggie's. She leaned back a bit and again made contact with his arm - still curved across the back of her chair. This time she forced herself to be cool and allow the contact. Despite herself, Maggie felt a tiny rush of sexual energy moving through her. She noticed that his eyes were dark, velvety brown and his skin glowed with a healthy tan - the kind you get from being on boats in the sun. He had very white, perfect teeth. A Palomino boy, she found herself thinking, and probably an actor. She thought he looked vaguely familiar and assumed it was because she'd seen him in some Indie movie or other. It pissed her off. This was the last thing she needed right now, some idiotic crush on a younger man who wouldn't seriously look twice at a woman like her. Perversely, Maggie decided it was time to play a little. "It's a New York Flip." She answered, picking up the martini-style glass and bringing it to her lips. She didn't take her eyes off the Pony Boy, as she decided to call him. She watched him watch her mouth as she drank from the glass. "Want a taste?" She asked, her voice rather husky. He seemed slightly surprised at the sexual innuendo. She feigned an innocent expression and held the glass toward him, a mischievous grin hovering faintly on her lips. She saw a slow, wicked smile grow on his handsome face. There was a danger there that Maggie found exhilarating, in spite of herself. "Oh - definitely." He replied. He reached for the glass, but rather than taking it from Maggie, he closed his fingers over hers and drew the glass to his mouth, taking her hand along for the ride. His eyes were locked onto hers. This son of a bitch is smooth, thought Maggie. "Like it?" She asked, as he slowly released her hand. "Delicious." He answered, a crooked grin on his wide, sensual mouth. "We should order you one, then." She said, smiling, as she turned her gaze back to the table in general. She could feel him continuing to look at her face in profile, and was grateful that the dim lighting would mask the flush she could feel blooming in her cheeks. Just then, Amy returned with someone Maggie could only assume was Brad. Tossing her tiny purse on the table, she announced that they were going to dance. Then Brad took Amy's hand, and spun her expertly as they headed away back to the tiny dance floor. Allison immediately jumped up and said "Yes - let's go dance!" And was followed by Katie, Drew and a very reluctant-looking Paul. Jenna and Rob were now sharing one set of earphones, trying to watch a video together on his phone. Maggie realized she had no escape in sight from Pony Boy. Feeling the need to flee, Maggie sighed slightly and decided to stick to her original plan - finish her drink and leave. She took another sip, trying to calculate how much of her drink was left, when a waitress appeared at her side and deposited another round down for the entire table - including a new cocktail for Maggie. "Oh really? Another round; who ordered these?" She asked the waitress. "Mr. Sinclair ordered these." Said the waitress. She gazed over at the Pony Boy with a strangely simpering look. Maggie thought - yeah, that doesn't help me, who the hell is Mr. Sinclair? Her eyebrows arched up questioningly. "That's me." Said the Palomino. Maggie's head snapped around to look at him, slightly alarmed that he almost seemed to be reading her mind. "In case you were wondering..." He added. "So, Maggie, tell me about yourself." As he asked the question, a glass broke somewhere in the lounge. Nick's eyes began to wander around the room. As she saw his attention wander, Maggie realized that he was beginning to tire of babysitting her already. Nick looked down at his watch - a very elegant Swiss chronograph. "Listen, I'm sorry." Maggie said. He glanced back to her briefly, but his eyes continued to find their way back to the far corner of the lounge. From where Maggie was sitting, his attention seemed to be drawn to a crowd of rather toasted models in tiny dresses who were gathering around a magnum of champagne. "What do you mean? Why are you sorry?" He asked. "All the beautiful girls are occupied, and you're stuck here with me. I'm sorry. I bet that never happens to you." She had his attention now. The Palomino cocked an eyebrow at her - he wore a smile seemingly meant to charm, but it didn't reach his eyes. They seemed very thoughtful and alert. "Oh, but you're a beautiful woman, Maggie." The way he said it sounded automatic - rather practiced. She laughed at this, shaking her head, and finished the contents of her first cocktail. "Did I say something funny?" Pony Boy asked. Leaning in and putting a hand on her shoulder, he let it slide it down her shoulder blade. The gesture felt like condescension to Maggie, given the circumstances. But the warmth of his hand on her back through the silk of her blouse brought a fresh rush of wetness to her panties. She couldn't decide it if made her want to slap his face, or let him stick his tongue down her throat. Something snapped inside of her. Her posture became very erect and her eyes flashed with anger. He withdrew his hand. She turned to regard him for a fraction of a second before speaking. "Look, handsome, I know what I look like and I know who I am. I'm a self-made woman with a triple digit IQ. I'm certainly twice the age and twice the size of the girls you usually sleep with. Yet you sit there, oozing charm, telling me I'm beautiful, and what? Am I supposed to think you have all this depth, because you see beauty where no one else would? Am I supposed to be flattered because you're bored enough to patronize me? Sorry, there's no need to waste your time on me. I'll leave you to the beautiful idiots and cougars - if that's what you're into. But thank you for the drinks, seriously. Have a good night." Maggie winked at Nick as she finished her speech. He sat back in his chair, seemingly stunned, his expression unreadable. She rose from her chair and walked away, toward the bar. As she made her way there, she could feel his eyes boring into her back. She forced herself to walk slowly and prayed she wouldn't trip or do anything to ruin the sense of cool she was so desperately trying to create. At the bar, she leaned over - immediately attracting the attention of the bartender. He walked up, smiling, and leaned in for Maggie's order. She asked for a New York Flip for herself, and for the man at the table she'd just left. He glanced back to her table, smiled and nodded, then moved away to make them. Maggie could tell from her peripheral vision that Nick continued to look at her as she stood at the bar, but steeled herself against looking at him. Happy that she'd turned the tables, a tiny little smile broke across her lips. Still, she thought to herself, it might have been nice to fuck him. This made her laugh out loud. She didn't care who was looking. Nick's Story: Nick was in his office approving some of the invoices that had piled up while he'd been away dealing with his mother's latest crisis. He had a tremendous amount of faith in his club manager, Richard, but he still preferred to manage the accounts payable and payroll process personally. He just didn't like giving up that much control, however competent the manager. As the majority shareholder within a syndicate of partners, Nick held the bulk of the equity in this lounge and three others around the city. But this one - called "Cream & Sugar" was by far his favorite. It was the first lounge he launched in Manhattan, and it was the realization of a business concept he'd had since graduate school. He still loved coming here. His private office, sound proof and tucked away upstairs from the noisy, bustling lounge, had become a second home to him. Brett, the head bartender this evening, rapped lightly on the door before opening it and leaned his head in. "Hi boss. There are four guys downstairs who said they want to see you. They asked me to come and find you." Nick looked back at the monitor of his PC, a cynical grin on his face. "Oh yeah? What is the story this time?" "Well, one of them said his name is Drew, and that he's your nephew or something." At this, Nick looked back up sharply, a slow smile spreading across his tanned face. Drew is the oldest son of his big sister, Ellie. With no kids of his own and no inclination to have any in the near future, Drew was the closest thing Nick had to a son. "He's early!" Nick exclaimed with a grin. "He wasn't supposed to get to the City until Saturday. How long has he been waiting?" Brett's face registered surprise that the kid's story was true (they looked nothing alike) and that his boss registered such warm emotion. In the two years he'd worked here, he didn't recall seeing him ever show any kind of softness. It humanized Nick more than Brett thought possible, and he liked it. "Oh - only a few minutes. He's with a few friends." "Please set them up with whatever they want, and tell them I'll be right down." Nick dove back into his work, running quickly through the urgent emails and tidying up the most immediate financial issues. Then he quickly powered down his PC and snapped off his brass desk lamp to go join his favorite nephew downstairs. Drew was moving to the City to start a new job at a big Wall Street firm downtown. He'd finished his MBA at Dartmouth two years ago and joined the training program at a fund management shop in Boston. Drew had, however, always wanted to spend time in New York. Nick was only too happy to make a few calls - after all - his reach into the financial industry in the City was pretty solid. Two of his syndicate members were investment bankers, and he had dozens of top brokers on his VIP client list. As Nick ran down the steps to the main floor, he ran a hand through his thick mane of unruly hair. He was tired and feeling a little jet lagged, but seeing Drew might just be the tonic he needed. The two weeks he'd just spent in La Cote d'Azur had brightened the natural highlights in his dark blonde hair and given him a deep tan, but it had been draining to his energy levels. His mother, Danni, had yet another tiff with her on-again, off-again paramour and insisted that Nick fly over to help her emotionally adjust. More importantly, she needed him to arrange moving her things out of Philippe's house in Monaco, and back to their family villa in St. Tropez. He knew that it would only be a matter of time until she went back to Philippe, but he never learned how to say no to the dramatic and self-centered former debutante that gave birth to him. It wasn't the first time that his own life had been put on hold while he had to "arrange" something for his beautiful but perpetually needy mother. It was a wonder, Nick thought, that he and Ellie were so normal. He knew they owed that to Loretta, the governess who raised them until they were old enough to be shipped off to school in Lugano. Despite the dysfunction of their upbringing, Ellie and Nick always tried to maintain a level of family normalcy. This is why he was so close to her son Drew. Nick pushed open the door to the lounge, and his deep mahogany-colored eyes scanned the large, dimly lit room. He paid no attention to the throngs of beautiful people of various shapes and sizes. His focus was on finding Drew. Several of the models that frequented Cream & Sugar squealed and ran up to air kiss Nick as he appeared. He affixed his standard smile and greeted them with the right balance of affection and professionalism, but kept moving through the crowd. He'd actually fucked a few of these gorgeous creatures, but sadly, most were a little empty and bent on manipulation - something with which he'd had plenty of experience. The day he realized that they were all pale variations of Danni - a most disturbing, almost Oedipal discovery - was the day he stopped sleeping with his clientele. That had been more than three years ago, right around his 40th birthday. Just then, Nick spied the shock of dark hair and the lean, elegant frame of his nephew. He saw that Drew and his friends were talking with a group of women at a table toward the far side of the room. While Nick crossed the distance, he took in the scene - and was relieved to realize that Drew's taste wasn't bad. The young blonde he was chatting up was lovely, and dressed very tastefully. Her friends, likewise, all looked like nice girls - and were not clad in the current uniform Nick liked to call the "Skank du Jour". This season, the bimbos and club rats all wore micro mini bandage dresses and stripper platform heels. It was as if they wanted to look like they worked in the Porn industry. While certainly effective at snaring the one-night stand, it gave all those girls a desperate and vacuous aspect that Nick found sad. But his male clients seemed to like them well enough, at least for a few hours. New York Flip Drew caught sight of his uncle as he neared the table and sprang up, closing the distance quickly and giving him a completely unselfconscious bear hug. They finished the hug with the mutual back slap that guys do - and Drew began to introduce Nick around the table. Drew's friends were all fraternity buddies from his undergrad days at Yale, and the women were all work colleagues out on the town together. Nick took one of the two empty chairs, while Drew's blonde explained that their boss, whom they all seemed to worship, was in the Ladies Room. Motioning to Alexa, the new Ukrainian cocktail waitress, Nick asked her to bring the table another round, and get him a glass of sparkling water with lime. He rarely drank at his own lounges these days. Nick would have liked to talk more privately with Drew - but he could see that his nephew was fairly smitten with the blonde - Allison was her name. He thought she looked familiar, and knew she must have been from one of the Upper East Side clans that he and Ellie have known since childhood. He'd always found it amazing that this rarefied crowd generally found each other so easily. It was like pattern recognition. He was thinking about slipping away and telling Drew to call him in the morning. The press of business that had been waiting two weeks was silently calling to Nick, and he really just wanted to retreat to his office and get some things done. Allison began to call out excitedly, looking at a point over Nick's right shoulder. He turned and saw an impressive redhead walking toward the table. She was like a human version of Jessica Rabbit - zaftig, but gorgeous. She had an absolutely beautiful face, classically formed with large green eyes and lovely pouty lips. Her clothing was very simple and elegant - rather Chanel in style - but her hair was a wild cascade of coppery curls. The words "fire and ice" flashed into his mind. Nick could see that she'd schooled her face into a serene expression, but there was a slight tightness to her jaw, so he sensed that she was irritated underneath. He found that intriguing. As Allison made the introductions, Nick automatically stood to pull out a chair for her. She barely registered his presence, which for some reason vaguely annoyed him. She never made eye contact with him, and her politely detached 'thank you' was fairly dismissive. It made him realize that she viewed him as just one of the boys with Drew. Nick thought she smelled heavenly; it was a scent that was new to him - like citrus, verbena and sandalwood spices mixed together. He found his eyes traveling over her voluptuous body. She asked about one of the girls that had walked away with one of Drew's friends. Her voice was deep and a little husky and showed no discernible regional accent. Nick was put in mind of the smart, smooth female voices one hears on Public Radio. Women weren't usually this indifferent. It stung his ego more than he liked to admit. He felt a strong desire to make her focus on him. In fact, he wanted to make this warrior princess submit to him, if he was being honest with himself. He'd forgotten all about the work that awaited him upstairs. Though he wanted to grab her by that sexy hair, he contented himself with draping his arm across the back of her chair as he leaned in to ask her what she was drinking. Being this close to her white, smooth skin was almost intoxicating. She was startled by his question, and when she leaned back to look at Nick, her back made contact with his arm for a fraction of a second. She flinched away from him as if he'd bitten her. Not a bad idea, he thought. He pointedly looked at his arm and then into her eyes, to show her that he'd noted and understood her reaction. As she looked fully into his face for the first time, he saw the tiniest spark of interest in her emerald eyes. She scanned him - her gaze moving over his face - taking him in. Her full lips parted slightly - her face a mere inches away from his. She seemed confused suddenly and had still not answered his query. He wanted to crush those soft, vulnerable lips. Nick couldn't resist smiling. Gotcha, he thought. He reiterated his question, enjoying her consternation. Just then, she seemed to recover. A coy shutter was drawn down over her unguarded expression and she joined his game, as if lobbing the ball back over the net. "It's a New York Flip." She said, her voice like dark honey. He saw her drink from the small martini glass, liking the way her mouth looked. The cocktail made her lips wet, and when she smiled at him, her perfect white teeth flashed briefly. "Want a taste?" she asked seductively. Nick felt his cock jump in his pants. Yeah I do, he thought. I want to taste every bit of you, sexy bitch. I'd like to put my tongue all over your body... She put a girlish expression on her face, teasing him, and offered him her glass. Nick put his hand over hers, and pulled her hand toward him as he sipped from her drink. He saw her eyes narrow at this - she clearly liked to play as much as he did. Her chest began to rise and fall a bit faster - which made her luscious breasts even more fetching. Nick could discern a lace pattern beneath the smooth silk of her blouse. She even wore pretty underwear. He wanted to tear it from her body. She asked him if he liked it - and he gave her a double entendre for a response in kind. Then suddenly, she closed up and turned away, saying something non-committal about having to order him one. Nick was mystified. Surely, they'd connected. He knew it was not his imagination. Yet she seemed determined to chill him out suddenly, pretending to focus on her staff. The one called Amy appeared at that moment with one of Drew's friends, and three of the couples went off to go dance. He wasn't sure what had just happened. It's like Maggie was somehow angry. Was she a psycho or something? Had he done something to piss her off? She wasn't getting off that easily, he decided. He saw Maggie sigh as she sipped her cocktail. She stared into the bottom of the glass with a melancholy look on her face. Alexa returned with a round of drinks for the table, including another New York Flip for Maggie. "Oh really? Another round; who ordered these?" Maggie seemed slightly annoyed as she posed the question to Alexa. The waitress looked straight at Nick, smiling, and told her it was Mr. Sinclair. Maggie's eyebrows arched up questioningly. She seemed about to speak, when Nick interrupted. "That's me." He said. She turned to him, her expression a little astonished. "In case you were wondering..." He added. "So, Maggie, tell me about yourself." Just then, Nick heard glass breaking over by the party that Mustang, the modeling agency, was hosting. Nick caught Brett's attention - giving him a meaningful look. Brett nodded in response and made his way over. Nick then turned and gave Perry - the "cooler" who sat by the entrance, the sign to go check out the situation. The last party Mustang had at his place had devolved into a cat fight, with two 85 lb girls trying to pull each other's hair out over the same photographer - whom they'd found out they were both fucking. It got pretty messy and they had to pay off a few paparazzi afterwards. Nick looked at the time - it was only 1PM. The agency had booked the table with bottle service until 2, so he couldn't toss them out yet. "Listen, I'm sorry." Maggie said. He badly wanted to turn his attention back to this sexy creature. He saw that Brett seemed to have everything under control, so he began to relax a bit. "What do you mean? Why are you sorry?" He asked. "All the beautiful girls are occupied, and you're stuck here with me. I'm sorry. I bet that never happens to you." Nick was not sure if she was fishing for a compliment, or if she was actually serious. Not yet sure how to react, he smiled at her as he tried to read her face. "Oh, but you're a beautiful woman, Maggie." He paused to see if this is what she wanted to hear. He realized that she wasn't fishing when she seemed to become even more annoyed by this statement. She laughed rather sarcastically, shaking her head, and knocked back her drink in one swallow. Nick was fascinated. Was it possible that she really did not know how gorgeous she was? What manner of asshole had burned her so badly that she felt insecure? Nick wished he knew who the guy was, so he could break his nose, or shake his hand - he wasn't sure which. "Did I say something funny?" He gently put his hand on her shoulder. Almost without meaning to, his hand slid down her back. Her skin felt warm and firm under his palm. For a moment, she looked as if that was melting the ice. He saw her close her eyes for a moment. He resolved to lean in and kiss her full lips once she looked at him again. Suddenly, she stiffened and drew herself up. When she turned, her eyes were angry - but there was something else lurking there - excitement and fear, perhaps. Nick realized that he'd mistaken fire for ice. Then she let him have it with both barrels. Maggie, her low voice quivering just slightly, launched into a little speech about how she knew who she was and she wasn't his type. She implied that he was just patronizing her because he was bored. She seemed to think he was a player who preyed upon "beautiful idiots and cougars", as she put it, and suggested he stick with them. Then she winked at him and thanked him for the drink, before rising up out of her chair and walking away toward the bar. He stared at her ass and legs as she walked away, seemingly in no hurry, her hips swaying slightly. She's magnificent, he thought. He was going to enjoy making her orgasm until she screamed. He hadn't been this turned on by a woman in years. Nick realized that he was partially aroused, and they hadn't even kissed yet. He needed to sit for a moment for his erection to dissipate. He sipped his sparkling water while he watched Maggie's progress toward the bar. As she leaned over, Brett noticed her instantly and rushed over to get her order. When she leaned forward, he saw his bartender look down her blouse with appreciation. Nick felt something akin to jealousy - a feeling pretty foreign to him. Something Maggie said to Brett caused him to look toward Nick. As he did, Nick nodded almost imperceptibly - essentially letting Brett know that she was his. He smiled and turned away to go mix a cocktail. As Nick looked back at Maggie, she was staring straight ahead, deliberately trying to ignore him, but he could tell she knew he was watching her. Then a naughty little smile broke across her full lips and she laughed to herself, as she stood alone at the bar. That was it. Nick rose from the table and walked purposefully toward her. Maggie refused to look at him until he was standing right next to her, his body inches from hers. He rested the right side of his body against the bar so he could stare straight down at her. Finally, she turned slightly toward him and slowly looked up into his face. She had to tilt her head back, because Nick was so much taller. As her eyes made contact with his, the slight smile that had remained on her face since he saw her laughing was still tugging at the corners of her generous mouth. Maggie seemed to be waiting for Nick to say something. "You don't know anything about me." Nick said calmly. "And you certainly don't know what kind of women I sleep with or what I find attractive." His words sounded slightly menacing, but his manner was sexual, rather than aggressive. The smile still played about her lips. She continued to regard him, as she seemed to digest his words. "You know what? You're right. My apologies. That was presumptuous and rude of me." "Apology accepted." Nick searched her eyes for a moment, and then added: "Can I just do one thing?" Maggie looked at him quizzically, and after a moment's hesitation, she nodded and said "sure." Before she knew what was happening or could react, Nick had grabbed a handful of her hair and leaned down, crushing her lips with his. She automatically put her hands up on his broad, strong chest, but she didn't push him away. After a couple of seconds, she began to respond to his kiss with some of the barely repressed fire he'd glimpsed earlier. As they pulled away from one another, it took a moment for Maggie to open her eyes. She looked up at him wonderingly. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he stared down into her lovely face. He gently released her hair, rubbing one thumb across her lower lip. "Come with me." It was a demand, rather than a request. It didn't occur to her to resist. She took the hand he offered and followed him toward a large door that was marked "employees only". Their Story: When they stepped through the door, Maggie followed Nick up a set of stairs. The lighting was dim, so Maggie slid one hand along the railing, while still clinging to Nick's large, strong hand with the other. He looked back at her from time to time, solicitous of her progress in her high heels. They reached a landing and he slipped a key out of his pocket and unlocked the padded door. Maggie gasped slightly, and he looked back at her. "This is your bar?" She asked. He laughed, frowning at her. "Did you think I was just another customer?" He asked. This seemed to amuse him. Maggie suddenly realized why he'd looked so familiar. About a year ago, she'd read an article that City Magazine had written about Nick and his growing array of hip lounges. He walked through the door, snapping a light switch by the wall. Dim, soft lighting revealed a very elegant office. Maggie followed him in and looked around appreciatively. When he closed the door behind them, the sounds from the lounge below faded away to a distant noise, like someone had turned the volume way down. Only the percussion could be felt through the floor, which was marble tile, covered in thick flokati area rugs. She noticed a large leather sofa, bookshelves, and a big antique desk. Along one wall were a row of flat screen monitors showing a live feed of the lounge below, and a brand new stylish PC. Maggie didn't have time to look at anything else, because just then, Nick's arms wrapped around her from behind and she was pulled roughly back against his hard body. He buried his face in her neck, and he reveled in her scent as he trailed kisses down her milky skin. She moaned as he pushed aside the collar of her blouse and his teeth nipped lightly into her shoulder. Turning around, she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to claim his mouth. His arms tightened around her until she was so pressed into his body she could barely breathe. His mouth forced hers open and his tongue plunged inside, toying with hers. She slid her fingers up into his hair, and she ran kisses down his chin and down the front of his throat. Maggie pressed her breasts into his chest, smiling as she heard him groan with excitement as she moved back up and gently sank her teeth into his lower lip. Nick scooped her up into his arms, and then slowly sank down onto his knees, laying her gently on the rug. He straddled her, took hold of both of her wrists and pressed them into the floor above her head. Her chest was heaving. She was very excited and she could feel that her panties were soaked. Nick had her at his mercy. She hoped he wouldn't show her any. He gazed down at her, red hair splayed out wildly against the stark white rug. Her eyes were shining with sexual excitement, and her lips were red and full from all the rough kissing. He could tell she liked being restrained in this way. He'd never seen a woman look so beautiful. "Maggie, I meant what I said downstairs when I told you you're beautiful. It's crazy to me that you think you're not. I haven't wanted anyone this much in years. It was all I could do to not throw you to the floor down there and just ravish you." "What's stopping you now?" She taunted breathlessly. He groaned as he swooped down and reclaimed her mouth. His lower body slid down the length of Maggie's, and with his knee he pushed her thighs apart, grinding his crotch into hers. She could feel his erection through their clothing. She spread her legs as far as her skirt would allow, trying to give him better contact with the sensitive, moist place between her legs. He lifted his hips and released her hands so he could tug her skirt up and out of the way. He slammed his lower body into hers, spearing her as if they were fucking. The dry humping was tremendously arousing to both of them - the torture of holding off actual sex was heightening their passion to a feverish pitch. Maggie began to push his jacket off his shoulders and tug frantically at his shirt - pulling it out of his dark jeans. He rose back up onto his knees to make it easier. His jacket hit the floor, followed by his shirt. As he finished unbuckling his belt, Maggie dropped her arms back on the rug. The backs of her wrists fell into the place just over her head, where he'd pinned them down earlier. She was submitting to him. It was so much like the fantasy he'd begun to weave in his mind downstairs that he was momentarily overcome. "Fuck." He felt so much passion rise up in him it was almost violent. Without thinking about the consequences or whether Maggie would be upset, he grabbed her blouse and roughly tore it open. Buttons went flying everywhere as she gasped out loud. "Oh my god!" Was all she said, as she pulled his head down into a series of bruising kisses. He grabbed her wrists again and slammed them down on the floor, causing her to groan with excitement. "Do you want me to take you, Maggie?" His voice was nearly a growl in her left ear, as he caught her earlobe in his teeth. "Yessss..." She breathed, her chest heaving. "Yes what? What do you want? Say it!" "I want you to take me, Nick. Please take me!" Nick released her hands so he could unhook her lace bra and toss it aside. He stopped for a moment to look at her breasts. They were large - at least D cups with large pink nipples that were fully erect. He murmured the words "so beautiful" as he leaned down to capture first one, then the other tender nipples in his mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of his teeth and tongue on her sensitive breasts. He began to kiss and bite his way down her body, impatiently asking Maggie how to unfasten her skirt so he could remove it. While she reached behind her back to get to the zipper, he caught hold of her lace panties - he noticed she wore a pair of very pretty lace boy shorts - yanking them down and off of her. Grabbing an ankle, Nick removed one of her black high heels, pressing his mouth to the soft arch of her foot. She cried out, her head dropping back. She paused to look up at him, a look of near defiance on her face. "Are you teasing me?" She demanded. "You bastard - that is so cruel." "Oh yeah? What are you going to do about it?" His voice was low and very sexy, and he didn't take his eyes off of her face. "For example, what would you do if I did this?" At that, he grabbed hold of her body and flipped her over onto her stomach. "Hey!" She exclaimed, surprised by this turn of events. She tried to push herself up with her hands, but he covered her with his body, pressing her down to the floor and again capturing her hands. This time, he pulled them behind her back. He began to talk in her right ear, interspersing kisses with his words. "Yes - you're helpless. I'm much stronger than you and we're in a soundproof room. I bet you don't lose control very often, do you Maggie?" He taunted. Her heart was pounding. She became rather afraid. This was not exactly what she had bargained for - what did he intend to do? He was right - the room was soundproof and no one she knew had any idea where she was. This was a virtual stranger, and he owned the club, so all the staff worked for him. Maggie couldn't reach her purse to grab her cell phone if she tried. New York Flip "Nick?" She pleaded softly. "Be quiet." He commanded. "Accept the fact that there's nothing you can do." She struggled slightly within his grip, but his hold on her only got tighter. "Pretend all you want, but I know you secretly love this. When is the last time an alpha male got the upper hand with you, huh?" He paused for a moment, and when she didn't respond, he ran kisses along the back of her neck. In spite of herself, she found herself wanting him to keep going. "Is this making you wet? I bet it is. Let's see..." He moved down her body and pulled her skirt off, ramming his face into her wet folds from behind. Maggie almost screamed with pleasure - all the more sharpened by the momentary pang of fear she'd just felt. Nick's insistent tongue was moving up and down from her ass to her clit. He pushed her legs further apart and lifted her hips slightly to get better access to her. After a few moments, he groaned aloud, causing a deep vibration against Maggie's swollen nether lips. Lifting his head, he said: "You sexy little bitch - you are soaking wet for me. You want me to rape you, don't you?" Maggie just moaned in reply, her head was spinning and she was losing her ability to reason. Grasping her legs, Nick flipped her over onto her back again. He pulled her down the rug, and fell forward so that she was directly under him, his body pressing her back into the soft, shaggy wool. "Answer me." He demanded softly. Maggie opened her eyes, looking deeply into his. Her pupils were dilated and her lips were moist and full. "You can do anything you want to me, Nick." She answered softly. His lips came down on hers in a kiss that turned very tender. "Did I hurt you?" he whispered, as he rubbed his cheek softly against hers. "No - you scared me a little." She whispered back. "But I liked it." "I'm going to fuck you now, baby. Are you ready for me?" He kicked off his shoes and impatiently finished removing his pants. "God, yes - please..." Maggie didn't speak further, though sounds of pleasure seemed to be wrenched from her as she felt Nick slide his hard penis into her. It took a couple of thrusts to get it all the way in, but then he began to slam into her with more velocity and rhythm. He groaned as he thrust himself into Maggie's wonderful tightness. This was even more perfect than he imagined. She arched her back up toward him, taking him in even as he drove into her. Her fingernails raked passionately down his back - but she was scarcely aware of what she was doing. The sting of her scratches only served to excite him further. Maggie felt wanton and strangely free - she could act the whore if she chose to, and she knew that it would only turn Nick on all the more. "Oh I knew I was going to love fucking you, Maggie May. You feel so good to me. How does this feel to you?" "It feels like a fantasy has come to life - it's so perfect, it's like I invented you. " Just then, Maggie stopped talking because a high-pitched moan took over. Nick lifted her knees to be nearly even with her ears - and he was bottoming out into her with each thrust. "Ohhh" he groaned, "You fucking sexy thing..." "How do I feel to you?" She demanded. " Do you like fu---" He stopped her from talking here by covering her mouth with his. Maggie felt like they were breathing each other in. Very suddenly he pulled up and yanked himself out of her. Before she could even question what he was doing, he roughly threw her over onto her stomach again, grabbing hold of her hips. Nick tugged her upward and she gasped as he penetrated her from behind. Her back was arched like a cat, as Nick knelt behind her and jabbed himself deeply inside. She crossed her arms on the floor and rested her head on her forearms as Nick plunged into her over and over again - pulling almost all the way out before lunging back again. He was hitting her cervix and beginning to touch her g-spot. He leaned down and sank his teeth into her left shoulder blade. She cried out from the pleasure/pain he was inflicting. She couldn't help thinking about the character called "Maggie the Cat" in the Tennessee Williams play, "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof." She felt like a cat in heat, balanced precariously on a hot surface. It was exhilarating. Nick, meanwhile, was lost in the extremity of the moment; never had a woman made him feel this way - completely unleashed and yet thoroughly in control. His own pleasure was intense beyond all prior experience - but he was incredibly focused now on her pleasure. He reached a hand under her and began to flick her clitoris with his fingers. She stretched against him even further and began to make a sound that was a moan and a desperate cry at the same time. "I want to make you come, Maggie May. Can you come for me, my beautiful girl? Huh?" He began to talk into her right ear as he rammed himself into her and teased her clit. Her breathing became ragged, and she was on the verge of tears from the raw passion he was creating. With his free hand, he pulled her hair and turned her head so that he could kiss her from behind. She moaned into his mouth as the floodgates opened inside her. Nick felt her pussy clench and unclench in rapid-fire motions around his cock. She became even wetter, and as his penis moved in and out of her at a slower pace, the slick sounds that it made seemed very noisy in the now quiet room. Maggie's strength gave out as she collapsed forward on the floor. Nick fell forward with her, adjusting himself so as not to crush her beneath him. Wanting to see her face and kiss her lips, he lifted himself enough to make her flip back over again. She moved more slowly and languidly, as if drugged by his powerful sex. Her face was moist from the ecstatic tears, and Nick took pleasure in licking the saltiness from her cheeks. She gazed up at him, a look of euphoric wonder on her face. She cupped a hand against his cheek and leaned up to tenderly kiss him. She leaned back to look at him - greater alertness evident in her wide, green eyes. She snaked a hand down and found his throbbing, still-erect penis. "Mmmm." She said. "Now you. What do you want me to do? I'm yours - so whatever you want..." Nick sighed like a man who'd finally found his way home after a long journey. "Oh, my baby. Yes. I'll tell you what I want..." And he began... --