Her Wicked Ways [3xR - Rated R] 9/?

[Andrea]

<b>Her Wicked Ways</b>
By Andrea
Rated M/R
Romance / Humor
<i>Standard Disclaimers Apply</i>

<b>Warnings:</b> Not proofread.


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<b>Part 9</b>


The tears I had been holding in for the better part of the night spilled out as soon as I hung up the phone after my mother?s abrupt parting. I was tired and restless, and quite surprisingly, heartbroken as well. I kept hearing the soft thumping of Trowa?s head against my door, the husky murmur of his voice threading through my conscience, seducing me, convincing me. And it hurt. It hurt, hurt, hurt. It fucking ripped me apart, and I wanted to be fine. I wanted to smile and laugh and say to hell with this. To hell with us!

Except there never had been an ?us? to begin with. Not really. This was exactly why I never got into a relationship. Feelings and emotions were too complicated; they tangled reasons and common sense. It made you stupid and mindless. It broke your heart beyond repair.

How could one man, and not even one that spectacular, weave his way so intricately into my life seemingly overnight? Was it really that easy? Was <i>I</i> really that easy? And I guess I wanted to feel at least a little bit happy; isn?t there a saying that goes <i>it?s better to have loved and lost, than not have loved at all</i>? It hurt too much to cry to be thankful. Too much anger and resentment and damned hurt inside me to really want to smile.

I wanted to hate him. But I was too much of a coward.

It had been a life-threatening experience trying to get to work, the stupid building seemed to have moved up a couple of blocks from its supposed address, as it took me longer than forever to reach my office. Even the fucking cabby had thrown me sad-looking gazes through the rear-view mirror, as if somehow trying to convey how sorry he was that my utterly pathetic ass had been dumped.

Asshole.

This one had to be the longest days of my entire existence. Not a single minute was spent in a semblance of peace, call it phone calls, e-mails, looks, or whispered words, I was the target of everyone?s pity. And I was pathetic, sitting at my desk, staring blankly at the flowers sitting on my coffee table, their girly colors making me smile, and forever wondering who?d sent them. I imagined Trowa had to send at least one of those two arrangements. Either way, it wasn?t likely that I was ever going to find out.

I promptly reached for the phone.


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??I?m cranky, and tired, and I swear I want to grab his head and smash it so hard against the wall it? breaks. His head, not the wall.?

Billy raised an eyebrow by the end of my tirade, scribbling on the pad resting on her lap. I wonder if at the end of a patient?s therapy, they?re allowed to read it. I?ll have to ask.

?You?ve always had a lot of repressed anger in you. I think this is a great topic to just let it all out.?

I glared at her. ?I?m not in the mood for your ?breathe in, breathe out? therapy.?

She chuckled, shaking her head as if I?d just said the most amusing thing in the world. ?What are you going to do now??

How many times had I asked myself that very same question? ?The thing that gets to me the most is all the people trying to be sympathetic when they know shit about our situation. There were reporters outside my apartment building this morning, as if I was some kind of celebrity. Don?t they have anyone else to bug??

?What about your mother? Has she called you, yet??

I snorted, crossing my arms as I slumped back on the couch, the soft cushions groaning beneath me. ?But of course, first thing in the morning.?

Billy leaned forward in her seat, pushing her reading glasses higher on her nose bridge. ?And??

?She slammed the phone on me, naturally. She?s the one who?s been pushing me?I can?t believe that bastard knew from the very beginning they were planning this. That selfish asshole, he could?ve warned me.?

She looked at me a long minute, just sitting there in a contemplative manner, before she moved to take her glasses off to put them on the table beside her, along with the pad. ?I will tell you this, not as your psychologist, but as a friend. Maybe things happen for a reason.?

?Yeah, yeah??

?Relena, listen. You?re in love with the man. I understand this is all new to you, but it?s not something to be afraid of. This whole ordeal has given you the opportunity to get to know him, and he you. Maybe things are a little more complicated now, but why ruin something that?s good for you? After what you?ve told me, he obviously cares about you, holds a genuine affection towards you, beyond sex and superficial attachments.?

?He and I are not made for long term relationships, Billy. We?re both too independent and too? spontaneous for a serious attachment; I saw him with his ex-girlfriend having lunch on Sunday for god?s sake!? Not to mention I had slept with a complete stranger not a week ago. But she didn?t need to know that.

?Communication is key, Relena.?

Communication, my ass. ?And what about my father? Do you really think I could just marry Trowa, knowing he?s just a tool in my father?s plans? I?m not that shallow to marry him just so that I can secure my thrust-fund.?

And Billy just shook her head, because really, what else was there to do?


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It was remarkable how quickly he moved on; only four weeks ago he had announced our break-up, turning me into a martyr, turning my own mother against me. It had been only four weeks?a month!?, as I?d wallowed in my misery, drowned myself in work, as I turned into something I could barely recognize and yet?

The asshole had the audacity of proposing to Krista Fuck-Me Mackenzie, and, if rumors were correct, given they ran like wildfire, spreading through the social networks even before it hit the news, apparently he had shown up late to their date with a massive bouquet of sterling roses. Yes, fucking, goddamned asshole. It was like a fish-slap to the face, giving the bitch the same kind of flower he had given me for Valentine?s. What a way to find out, huh?

I was in shock; all this time wondering and just torturing myself and now that moron was engaged to <i>her</i> of all people?! This called for drastic measures.

It didn?t take long to arrange all my paperwork, call the airline to book a flight, call the hotel to book a room, and send an e-mail to Tristan saying I was going away on vacation. It also didn?t take long and much effort to convince Quatre to go away with me to Port Elizabeth. A business trip of sorts, not that anyone needed to know that.

Certainly it would be a great opportunity to supervise the construction site, meet with O?Hara for that long over-due contract revision and still manage some downtime to just sit back and enjoy South Africa?s sunny coast.

Dorothy proved to be an obstacle, not that I hadn?t seen that one coming, as she had insisted on booking her own flight and joining us to help supervise the project. And honestly, she had all the reasons to demand all this as she had been the one in charge of this project in my stead, yet letting her come was just not an option.

Of course, Quatre had been more than ecstatic about this trip, sounding as surprised as he was thrilled with the prospect of going all the way to South Africa, <i>just us two</i> as he had put it. Somewhere in my heart I knew that what I was doing was wrong, taking advantage of Quatre?s attraction to me just so I could get back at Trowa, yet not feeling wrong enough to let my conscience take over. The asshole had humiliated me in front of everyone and I was going to show him just how good I rolled over and played dead. With Quatre.


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There was something almost godlike about Quatre Winner; a combination of assets, from the top of his sunshine hair, to his aristocratic face, all the way down to his lean, hard body. The high cheekbones, the pronounced jaw-line, the set of his broad shoulders, even the hypnotizing stare of his aquamarine eyes. Everything about him? it felt good. It sat well on my very bruised ego to know that a man of Quatre Winner?s caliber was attracted to me.

One week turned into two, and then into three; meeting early for breakfast, lunching together at whichever restaurant or caf? we happened to come across, and often had dinner near the pier, where this little seaside restaurant boasted a cellar with the best goddamn wine collection I had ever known.

Seldom I thought of Trowa and Krista?s engagement, diving myself fully into the site, the hiring and Quatre. Well, at least that?s what I tried telling myself. During our first week, we got a visit from a representative from Winchester Corporation, one of the leading hotel chains in the world, pitching an offer to acquire a managing contract with Winner, Ltd., seventy percent of property net revenue, thirty percent corporate management net gain. It was a sound offer, catchy and pretentious, and the major reason why our stay had prolonged so much. Two weeks of negotiations and we ended with an eighty percent property gain vs. a twenty percent corporate profit.

O?Hara would turn CEO based on-property to supervise on behalf of Quatre seeing as he wouldn?t always be in South Africa, while Winchester Corp. would provide the personnel to manage the different executive-level positions in the different departments such as Sales and Marketing, Finance, Engineering, Loss Prevention, Front Desk, Housekeeping, Operations, Food & Beverage, etc., including a co-CEO who would be permanently on-property as General Manager on behalf of Winchester Corp.

?It?s set, then.? Wufei Chang, the rep, said stonily as he gathered the scattered documents, shaking hands with Leon McNamara, Winner, Ltd.?s lawyer and then with Quatre and myself. He was definitely a man of very few words.

?Why don?t you stay and enjoy dinner with us, Mr. Chang?? One would never think this man had just signed a contract worth well over a few million dollars; at least, one would never be able to tell by the way he lounged so casually on his chair, one leg crossed over the other and one strong elbow resting comfortably on the top of his chair?s backrest.

?I?d rather not, thank you for the offer, anyway. Still have a few phone calls to make before the day?s over.? With that be bowed respectfully, gave a curt nod and turned to leave.

?And I better leave as well. My flight leaves early tomorrow morning and I still need to pack. I?ll see you back home.? Leon said warmly, his sixty-three year old body sagging tiredly with his heavy sigh.

?Get some rest! You?re starting to look your age!? Quatre called loudly at Leon?s retreating back, making the older man give a hearty laugh.

?Behave, boy!? But he was already too far away for us to hear the rest of his words. But it went something along the lines of ?like father, like son?.

Quatre laughed anyway, apparently used to these antics. ?He used to work for my dad, has known me since I was but a baby in diapers.?

I smiled at the warmth radiating from his voice, that kind of warmth that can only surface with remembrance. ?Don?t tell me he changed your diapers??

He laughed again, and I was left to grasp at the tatters of the women?s hearts around us as his face alighted with laughter and his handsome features looked even more stunning. ?Among other things.?

I gathered the heavy, leather-bound binder containing the copy of the signed contract, among other documents detailing the specifics of the deal, snapping it shut resolutely. ?I can?t believe you managed an extra ten percent profit gain in less than week??

?It?s Friday night.?

His eyes regarded me with such intensity it made my face burn almost self-consciously. ?I know.?

He chuckled huskily, taking my hand in his and bending low to whisper a kiss across my knuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. ?Let?s go out and celebrate?, he commanded softly.

It was as dangerous as it was enthralling, this whole mess I had created. Was I really up to playing with this man?s feelings? I kept telling myself that it was only business, I kept trying to convince myself that getting back at Trowa was justification enough to string Quatre along.

I knew I was playing with fire, but I?ve always been up for a good game. Then again?

Who the fuck was Krista McKenzie compared to Quatre Raberba Winner?


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We made it to the hotel in less than ten minutes after we left the club, and I stumbled into his room gracelessly, giggling like a schoolgirl after just having her first kiss. He laughed along, grabbing my arm to help steady me, preventing me from face-diving into the carpeted floor. I felt the buzz from the wine gurgle in my sight, making the room spin somewhat before righting itself when Quatre pulled me upright and wrapped a strong arm around my waist, steadying me once again.

He led me further into his suite, and the large white bed was pure ambrosia as I collapsed on it, laughing all the while as if he?d been dancing the Irish jig in a tutu. I laid back, shaking my head for no particular reason, enjoying as the ceiling wavered, collapsing into my peripheral and then zooming up to its original location. I could feel the sizzling of excitement churning inside me, I was tired, exhausted, but also hyped up, something inside me coiling in anticipation.

I was distracted as Quatre walked into the room, already missing his suit jacket, the white shirt still crisp-looking despite the long day. He moved to undo his tie with one hand, while he walked to the windows to close the blinds with the other. He looked rugged and dangerous, like those popular bad boys all the girls want and never get. I couldn?t stop smiling, for some reason, and I couldn?t explain why his eyes looked so dark; perhaps it was the lightning, perhaps I was a little too drunk, but when he moved to stand at the foot of the bed, I couldn?t help but feel drawn to the swirling navy of their depths.

And I laughed. Hard and long and unrestrained.

Chuckling along, he sat on the bed beside my legs, shaking his head as he regarded me with amused eyes. ?You?re so drunk.?

?I?m not! What are you doing?? I forced myself onto my elbows; trying to get a better view of his bent back, seemingly busy removing my shoes.

?What does it look like I?m doing?? His voice sounded muffled, and I dimly wondered if it was because of his bent-over position or simply because I was wasted. Not that it mattered.

When he was done?don?t really know why it took him so long; aren?t stilettos easy to take off??he turned around to regard me, his stare too intense for me to comprehend at the moment, so I let myself lay back on the bed heavily, running a hand across my eyes to try and clear my vision. The feeling of his hand running up my bare leg made goose bumps break out on my skin, and I found it rather difficult to breathe through my nose alone, panting instead to keep myself from suffocating from the sheer wave of sensation that swept through me from the single touch.

A kiss landed on my knee. It?d been so long since the last time anyone had kissed or touched me with such undiluted tenderness; all my past encounters had always been derived from the single-minded purpose of reaching completion and satisfying a simple physiological need, devoid of caring and gentleness.

And I was speechless. I moved to grab a fistful of the duvet with my right hand, my left moving down my body to weave in his golden hair. His mouth moved up to my thigh, trailing his tongue in little teasing circles ?hot and smooth and wet?, kissing my skin until he reached the hem of my skirt, and when I thought he would move the fabric out of the way, he rearranged his body on the bed to pull himself on top of me, nudging my chin with his nose in a gentle prod.

?Beautiful.? He breathed; his lips moving against mine, the contact a whisper of a touch.

I turned my head to the side to grant him better access to my neck, his lips fastening to my throat in a moist, open-mouthed kiss, the edge of his teeth dragging down to the juncture of my shoulder. It was powerful, passionate, mind-numbing, and all I could do was try and catch my breath under his skillful ministrations.

?Quatre?? I felt the moan reverberate through my chest even before it became a sound, arching my back and pressing my aching breasts into his shirt. I felt his lips turn up into a smile against my collarbone before laving his tongue on the depression where the bone met skin. And his thumb, I arched my back again, drawing little circles against my clothed nipple?madly, intrusively?wild and passionate and insane.

The edge of his teeth ran along my left collarbone, outlining the structure to obscene perfection. But it wasn?t until his hand reached down to start unbuttoning my suit jacket, that I stopped him, my breathing ragged, labored compared to his almost annoyingly collected self. ?Wait.?

His hand stopped on the second button but didn?t move away, his head coming up to regard me silently.

God, he was gorgeous.

His hair was askew from when my hand had run through it, and its disheveled state gave him an almost boyish look, as cute as it was sexy. There was a knowing look in his eyes, even as his mouth set in a tight, sad smile. ?You?re really in love with him, aren?t you??

How could he?lying between my parted legs and after having almost devoured my neck?still be so analytical?

?I don?t? I don?t know.?

He sighed heavily, resting his head on my heaving chest, as if a burden had suddenly landed on his back, weighing him down.

?I?m sorry.?

Laughing softly, he raised his head to regard me tenderly, his hand coming up to run a thumb along my cheekbone. I felt like crying and dying, because there was no hurt in his eyes, only understanding, and I wanted it to hurt. For some reason, having him <i>know</i> cemented my feelings for Trowa, undeniably, irrefutably.

?You don?t need to apologize. It should be me saying ?I?m sorry?.?

When he made to get up, I wrapped my legs around his hips, needing him to stay, wanting his comforting presence to reassure? I didn?t understand why, exactly, only that I needed him to stay, regardless of how selfish it was of me. ?Stay. Please.?

We moved further up the bed, fully clothed and really not caring. He threaded his arm under my back and rolled me into his embrace and I went willingly, cuddling to him as if he were an oversized plush toy.

Comfort zone.

?He?s an asshole.? He said after several minutes had passed and I was beginning to fall asleep.

I made a noise in the back of my throat, not really agreeing, but not denying it either. ?I?m a bitch.?

?Perhaps.?

?Hey!?

Slapping my hand on his chest, he recoiled with a loud laugh, pulling me back down beside him. ?Kidding!? His laughter dimmed out to soft chuckling, and I felt the sound reverberate throughout his ribcage beneath my ear. ?At least I got you to a first name basis. Finally.?

?Ha, ha.?

I stayed up long after he fell asleep.


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The first thing that came to my mind the moment I became awake, was the disgusting taste of sleep on my tongue. I had drunk over seven vodka tonics and smoked lots of ciggies the night before and hadn?t even washed my teeth before going to bed. In fact, I couldn?t even remember when I had fallen asleep. I did remember, however, with startling clarity, what had happened between Quatre and I, and that thought alone prevented me from opening my eyes completely.

I could feel the warmth that came from my right and the light that tried to peek through my lids, telling me it was well into the morning; it didn?t surprise me, though, that I couldn?t feel the presence of Quatre lying beside me on his place from the night before. Why would that surprise me? He knew I was using him. He was a clever man; of course he knew he would be the ?rebound guy?.

Tentatively, I opened my eyes, surveying the room, trying to ignore the little disappointed twitch in my gut with the confirmation that he was, indeed, gone. I lost my balance when I tried to get up; the sheets, that I guessed Quatre had covered me with, were tangled messily around my legs, pulling tautly when I tried to lower a foot to the floor. And that?s exactly how Quatre found me; sprawled gracelessly on the floor, my business skirt?wrinkled beyond repair might I add?riding high on my thighs, and my hair falling in fuzzy ringlets around my face.

He was carrying a shiny black tray, and the smell of toast and coffee suddenly permeating the room made my mouth water. Lord, I was starving.

?I?m hungry,? I croaked, still on the floor. I didn?t get up, and neither did he lend a hand.

Grinning, I watched as he sat on the bed and set the tray in the center, expectantly looking down at me. ?You look terrible.?

It wasn?t that funny. Really, it wasn?t; but I couldn?t help it. I barked out in laughter, falling on my back to the soft, carpeted floor, keeping my eyes on his alluring figure, clad in a sexy, midnight blue shirt with white pinstripes and white trousers. Eye candy. Yummy-yum-yum. He had his customary half-smile, that one that pronounced his right dimple starkly on the sharp planes of his cheek and jaw; his mischievous eyes shining with mirth and something dark.

That smirk reminded me of Trowa?s.

Gag me, please. ?What?s that?? I asked, shifting my legs, untangling the dark red sheet. I wanted to smile when his eyes dipped to my legs, but he was subtle, a gentleman first, as he reached a hand over and helped me up.

?Breakfast? or brunch. It?s almost noon.?

I acknowledged his words with a smile, walking to the bathroom to freshen up as best as I could, given the fact that this wasn?t my room and my toiletries lay in my bag two rooms down. I purposely left the door open as I cleaned my mouth with his toothpaste, rubbing furiously at my tongue with my index finger and along my teeth, trying to get rid of the nauseous taste of morning breath. The bed was in a straight line across the mirror, and I could clearly see his face as he stared at my ass. Quatre Winner was a well-bred, high society man, but he was still just a man.

Giving him the show he was looking for, I bent over the sink to rinse my mouth off the toothpaste. That would do. Drying my face and hands with the small white towel at my right, the thought that I had never spent a morning with a man in my life so far crossed my mind. It gave me the jitters, but oddly enough, Quatre made me feel comfortable, like I was able to just be myself without feeling self-conscious.

Laying half back on the bed, with his hands behind him supporting his weight, he shot me a knowing smile, letting me know he knew I?d seen him staring at me through the mirror. His current position was on purpose, as it tightened the crisp shirt across his chest, letting his lean muscles on full, mouth-watering display. Gods, and here I thought Trowa was a Casanova. Where did all those gullible, weak-minded men I use to screw went to? Playing mind games with men like Quatre or Trowa was definitely exhausting. Weakening.

Why did I still think of Trowa? Why couldn?t I just forget him? His words still echoed in my memories, how he had professed? I didn?t need it. The emotional rollercoaster of being in a serious relationship was something I just wasn?t ready for. It was emotional baggage. A burden I could do without. And what if my dad took my inheritance away?

Well, maybe I did care a little about that, but it wasn?t like I was going to starve to death without it, right? Plus, not even my twisted sense of ethics would allow me to marry a man for money? even if it, technically, was my own money.

But? the thought that?something I realized the next morning of our breakup?he had said the things he said, done the things he did? without knowing about my dad?s ultimatum kept my mind tittering on the precarious edge of emotional uncertainty. His feelings really were authentic. I just couldn?t cope with that. I?m not ready to fall in love. I refuse. Period.

It didn?t make it hurt any less, though.

?Are you okay?? Quatre still laid in that same position and I realized I?d been standing well over a minute staring at this chest, lost in thought.

Smiling, I went to sit beside him, gently as to not disturb the contents in the tray. ?You called for room service? How sweet.?

He chuckled shortly, making it sound almost like a snort, before he reached to grab a toast, slathering it faintly with strawberry jam while I took a bite of a Gouda cheese roll with an olive on top.

?I have to pack my things and get ready, our flight leaves in three hours.? I had to go. The room had suddenly become stuffy.

Knowingly, his eyes narrowed suspiciously, but it was only for a moment before the look cleared and he was his sunshine self again. I wasn?t able to read his expression in that moment, but somehow my words had upset him.

?I apologize for the rush??

He cut me off, cleanly, smoothly. ?Don?t call me <i>Mr. Winner</i> again.?

I managed to laugh through the tense moment, the laid back atmosphere from earlier, suddenly feeling charged with unspoken truths. ?I wasn?t going to. I?ll see you at the lobby in an hour.? I moved to the bedroom door, and stopped to add for good measure, ?Quatre.?

Smiling genuinely, his voice cut short my escape as he rose from the bed and moved with a catlike grace that left me almost breathless, and without noticing, he backed me up against the door, his arms encasing me in his warmth as his hands settled on the door behind me, on either side of my waist.

My hand was suddenly against his chest, and neither of us was sure if it was to guard him off or to encourage him further. ?Carmen opens tomorrow night. Pick you up at seven-thirty?? But it wasn?t a question. It was a challenge.

And I smiled. ?I?ll be ready at seven.?


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To be continued?

[The Angry Angel]

Hubba hubba hubba.

Nice to see this again, where you been girl?

Aw man, if Quatre just doesn't make me swoon. My heart hurts. If he even looked at me the way he looked at Relena I'd be pregnant. Shit, Steve I'd even forget Trowa. You write him that good.

[Andrea]

Hahaha! You're always so amusing, darling! Shit, I'd be pregnant, too! I'm so happy you're enjoying my story, dear! Writing about men is so easy! And it comes so naturally... Aaanyway, thanks for the review! You're the absolute best!!!

[The Angry Angel]

Writing about men is so easy! And it comes so naturally...

Sure, Uh-huuuuh. I wonder how this talent came about, hm...

[Andrea]

LOL! I fail to imagine what exactly you're implying.

[pilot03]

Riiiiight.

[Andrea]

Huh. What's that supposed to mean?

[Kanya Barton]

Ha... I had to read a the entire story again because it had been so long since I'd read this story, but I'm glad that I did! I have to echo everyone else and say that this is a truly amazing story! I love both Trowa and Quatre... And I wouldn't mind Relena being paired up with either of them because they're just so deliciously sexy and evil in a way... Well, not evil, devilish. That's a better word.
Anyway, I can't wait to see the next chapter!
Peace out!

[hhryah]

*cackles* I love how you've written Quatre! Please do keep updating- your sexy scenes are so incredibly sexy, your Relena is hilarious and heart-breaking, and the overall story and writing is wonderful! <3

[Ice_Vixen]

Where's the next chapter?! you're killing me here. please please please continue soon!