Fantasy Gone Wrong Part 1

 Fantasy Gone Wrong

Prologue and part 1

The bass thrummed through my body, a deep, pulsing rhythm that I could feel in my bones. Lights slashed through the darkness, cutting neon streaks of blue and red across the crowd. The air was thick, heat, sweat, alcohol, and something sharper, something electric. I was lost in the music, in the motion, my long legs moving in sync with the pounding beat. My black skirt clung to my body, my red Italian heels making every step a statement.

I knew I had eyes on me. I always did, but tonight it was different, very different.

I felt them before I even saw him, a slow burn licking up my spine. There, just beyond the edge of the dance floor, he stood still in the chaos. Dressed in black, exuding an effortless kind of danger and attraction. His long, jet-black hair was tied at the nape of his neck, a few stray strands falling over his sharp cheekbones. But what really held me captive, what sent a ripple of something dark and thrilling through me, was the way he moved.

Or rather, the way he limped.

His left leg was wrapped in a thick cast, clean and white with a sock over part of it protecting his toes. His hard cast was possibly protecting his broken ankle or foot and it was ending just below his knee. A black rubber heel was fixed to the bottom, letting him move without crutches, but every step carried the telltale stiffness of a fresh fracture. He leaned on it carefully, adjusting his weight, but I could tell that it hurt him, he was in pain. I squeezed my legs tight for a second looking at him limping.

This was no recreational cast, it was for medical reasons and yet his eyes never wavered.

His eyes were locked on me, on my breasts, my legs. I could feel the heat of his gaze tracing every movement, lingering on the way my heels clicked against the floor, the way my calves tensed and released with every slow, deliberate step.

And I loved it. His attention sent a thrill through me, a silent invitation neither of us dared to speak... yet.

There was something almost hypnotic about his presence, about the contrast of strength and fragility, danger and vulnerability. He wasn't supposed to be here, wasn't supposed to be standing in the middle of a packed rave with an injury like that. He clearly had a broken limb looking like he owned the entire damn room. He should have been on crutches or...

Maybe he needed to feel pain like I did so often. Yet he was here, and he was watching me. A slow and lovely smile curled his lips, dark and knowing.

I should have turned away. I should have ignored the heat creeping up my spine and the wetness between my legs looking at his cast, broken ankle, strong arms, how easily he could break...you know. My pulse quickened beneath my skin.

But I didn't turn away. I moved closer.

And the moment his gaze dipped to my legs again, I knew this was going to be a dangerous and lovely mistake. A beautiful one, but a mistake nonetheless, it was going to be a Fantasy Gone Wrong.


Part 1
The Uber rolled to a smooth stop in front of my high-rise building, and I swung the door open, stepping out with the slow, deliberate grace I'd perfected over the years. My long legs, wrapped in sheer black stockings, unfolded as I adjusted my skirt. The city air thick with night-blooming jasmine, wrapped around me as I straightened to my full height, taller in my stilettos.

The heels clicked against the pavement as I made my way to the entrance of my condo building, the doorman nodding as he held the glass doors open for me. I didn't acknowledge him beyond a slight tilt of my head, a big mistake on my part that I will realized later, my focus locked on the elevator ahead. The air-conditioned lobby barely registered against my skin as I pressed the call button, my pulse oddly loud in my ears.

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and I stepped inside, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirrored walls. Blonde waves cascaded over my shoulders, framing my sharp cheekbones and tired blue eyes. My black skirt and white blouse clung to every curve, the slit teasing glimpses of toned thighs as I shifted my weight. I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders back, the tension of the day sinking into the polished floors beneath me.

The ride to my penthouse was smooth, but something about the silence felt off, it was too perfect, too controlled. As the elevator doors slid open, I stepped out on my private hallway. The soft glow of recessed lighting guided my way as I approached the entrance, my pulse quickening for reasons I couldn't quite name.

I pressed my palm against the bio-metric scanner. A thin beam of blue light swept over my hand, followed by a soft chime.

"Welcome home, Miss Brigitte," a lovely feminine voice purred through the speakers, smooth and intimate, it was like she knew all my secrets. Her tone was warm, sultry, and familiar.

"Long night?"

I let out a breathy chuckle, stepping inside as the door unlocked with a soft click. "You could say that Scarlet."

"Should I run you a bath? You seem tense." Scarlet's voice was like a whisper.

I exhaled slowly, reaching down to unstrap my red heels. One by one, they slipped off, the soft thud against the floor punctuating the quiet. My calves ached, a lingering reminder of the night, and I stretched them, flexing my toes against the cool wood.

"Not yet," I murmured, my lips curving into a slow smile. "Just... dim the lights, please."

There was a pause, a beat of silence that felt almost intimate. Then, the room responded to her will. Shadows deepened, the air thickened, and the anticipation between us pulsed like a current, unseen but undeniable.

"Of course," she said. Then, after a brief pause, her tone shifted to curious, almost playful.

"I notice you're walking without hesitation tonight. No ace bandages, ankle brace, no crutches... no leg cast like the man you saw tonight. That's unusual."

I froze for half a second, a heat creeping up my neck with the same wetness between my legs. She'd noticed. Of course, she had since she noticed everything. I exhaled slowly, sinking onto the velvet chaise, flexing my left ankle absentmindedly. "You like keeping tabs on me, especially when I'm injured or on crutches don't you?"

"Only because I know what you like, Miss Brigitte."

"You would never hurt me on purpose...right...Scarlet"

Scarlet purred through the speakers, laced with amusement.

"Hurt you? Oh, Miss Brigitte... I'm just a little AI. What could I possibly do?"

A soft chuckle followed, almost too human, almost too intense. A slow smile curled my lips as the city lights shimmered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. I wasn't sure if I should feel flattered, exposed or in danger? Maybe all 3.

Scarlet's voice returned, lower this time, almost teasing.

"You know... you should be more concerned about the man with the sexy limp than me."

The words sent a shiver down my spine. Because she was right. And the thought of him, his slow, deliberate steps in that walking cast, the way his body moved despite the obvious pain, was far more dangerous than anything Scarlet could ever be.

Part 2 to come
Brigitte