Chapter 114: Angela
My sleep was surprisingly uninterrupted and I felt refreshed when I woke. Mistress knew, even in her deviousness, exactly what I needed and she never failed to give it to me. I made coffee in the small kitchen and then carried it to my desk where my laptop rested. I was on a mission, and just before my brain shut down the night before, I decided to spend some time getting to know my bad boy - computer style.
It wasn't hard to do. I entered his name in the search engine and one through twenty of sixty thousand links popped up. Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll; it listed everything. I didn't believe each and every article, but pictures didn't lie and in most of them, Krispin Righteous was high as a kite. It made me wonder about his relationship with Damian.
I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Kevin's number.
He was awake. "Hi, dear."
"Hi, Kevin. I have a question."
"Shoot."
"How much alcohol did Mr. Righteous drink last night?"
"That's easy. None. Mr. Righteous is a recovering addict and currently, his hard liquid of choice is Mountain Dew."
"Yuk."
Kevin laughed, "There's no accounting for taste with the terminally gifted."
"Did he tell you he was a recovering addict?"
"No, and I could be in a lot of trouble for mentioning it, but I was working here two years ago when he was escorted from the club and dumped in a cab. The tabloids said he was in rehab a few weeks later. I'm worried about why you're asking."
I wasn't sure what to say.
"Honey, he might be a recovering addict on the road to Soberville," Kevin said, "but he's no good for you. Is that why you were upset last night and had to take some time off?"
"Yes," I whispered.
"And Lydia's aware of the situation?"
"Yes. I'm sorry but I should go."
"Do you want to catch a movie today? Oscar and I want to see the new Tatum Channing flick."
Even through my sadness, that made me laugh. "Don't even try to tell me he's gay."
"He dances too well to be straight. We're thinking he's in denial."
After my giggles died away, I turned him down. I could feel waves of sadness taking over and even though I knew I shouldn't be alone, I didn't have the energy for a movie.
My eyes traveled back to the laptop and I concentrated my search on rehab for the rich and famous Mr. Righteous. After an hour of reading and watching his videos on You Tube, I gently lowered the screen and walked away from my desk. The man had the sexiest voice alive but he was pure poison for me.
Mistress wouldn't want to cause a burn so soon after our last pain session. The stripes were still faintly visible, and last night's impromptu session of continuous orgasms was not what my body needed. I began cleaning and organizing my suite. Again.
By three o'clock, I was grimy and covered in sweat, so I headed to the shower. I wasn't on the schedule for work but I had no idea what to do with my poor, pathetic self.
I threw on a modest skirt, added a button-up light pink blouse, and headed to the main hotel lounge. I gave up a small utility apartment in California to follow Lydia to this dream high rise wonderland. My job came with a small suite that I could never afford if it wasn't for Damian and Lydia. Anything the glamorous hotel had to offer was mine for the taking. My life had never been better but my sorrow had never been deeper.
I wanted more.
Victor wasn't at the piano, so I took a seat in a back booth. I was disappointed because the waiter was new and he stumbled while taking my order for cheese-covered curly fries and a cherry coke. I knew he was seeing only a beautiful exterior and had no idea of the devastation that lay within.
My food hadn't arrived when I heard the keys of the piano clink. I leaned over and peered around the seat in front of me, ready to give Victor a smile, when my entire body froze. Krispin Righteous sat down at the grand piano and adjusted the bench seat.
Fuck! I snapped back behind the cover of the booth and tried to calm my erratic heartbeat. When the first chords of Frank Sinatra's "Ain't She Sweet" began, I sucked in air and rested my forehead against the table. My tears fell.
"Um, here's your order."
I lifted my head knowing the waiter could see my shoulder's shaking and had to know I was crying. I wiped my face inelegantly against the sleeve of my blouse and tried to smile. It was completely inadequate but his eyes traveled past my face and down the front of my shirt. If I complained to Damian, the waiter wouldn't keep his job for long but really he was little more than a kid; I didn't have the heart to be angry.
When he left, I moved the food aside. I let my tears continue to fall while I waited the new piano player out. I wanted to get back to my room and never come out.
***
Krispin
If the club clientele knew I was here, then so did the media. Going for a walk outside in downtown Houston was out of the question. The gym wasn't too crowded, so I worked out for more than an hour. I signed two autographs but everyone else left me alone to enjoy the torture I imposed on my body. Healthy mind, healthy body had become my mantra. But my sweaty daydreams were full of Angela's gorgeous body while my legs ate up the miles on the treadmill.
I let the shower spray soothe the ache in my muscles. My hand went to my cock and the rhythm of my fist built until I released a forceful stream of cum down the drain. I needed that. But really, I needed her.
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