Rock Bottom

by K. Webster

  “Holy shit,” Kenny bursts out. We both look over at him in question. “I can totally work with this.” He’s grinning like a fool.

  “Come on, sir.” I pat Donnie on the shoulders. “It’s past our bedtime.”

  He stands and takes my hand. As we go to leave, I see the rest of our dinner party standing in the doorway of the room. Their expressions are varied. Leonard is wearing one of disgust—no surprise there. Mrs. Jennings is smiling, but her eyes are glistening with tears. Daphney is wearing a half smirk that’s full of pride for her brother. And Dr. Jennings is glaring. Asshole.

  “We’re leaving. Thanks for supper,” I tell his mother.

  I almost have Donnie to the front door with Kenny on our heels when a voice halts us.

  “Son, you do have talent. Nora’s correct. I never should have discounted that fact. Drive safely.” With his brief words that somewhat resemble an apology, Dr. Jennings strides out of the entryway and down the hallway.

  Leonard pops in behind us with Daphney in tow. “Drive safely,” he says mimicking Donnie’s father sarcastically. Then, under his breath, he adds, “White trash assholes.”

  “Excuse me. I forgot something,” Kenny mumbles to Donnie and me.

  I expect him to go get his wallet or something. But instead, he stalks over to Leonard so that they’re practically nose to nose. Both men are glaring at each other. Daphney tries to pull Leonard out of the way so that Kenny can pass, but Leonard forcefully yanks her back to him, causing her to yelp.

  Donnie is already jerking away from me, but Kenny beats him to the punch. Literally.

  “I hope you have good health insurance because I’m about to break your fucking nose,” Kenny snarls. Lightning quick, he hauls back his fist and slams it right into Leonard’s face. Blood immediately gushes from his most likely broken nose.

  And on that note, we leave Daphney to play “doctor” with her loser-ass fiancé.

  “I still can’t believe Kenny punched him,” I laugh as I curl my naked body against Donnie’s. Once we got home from the dinner, we took a hot bath together and are now cuddling under the covers.

  “He would have earned one from me too if Kenny hadn’t have knocked him out cold. I’ll get him next time though. I promise.”

  I rest my cheek on his pectoral muscle and lazily trace the tattoos on his chest with my finger while he strokes my hair. After a stressful evening, this feels like bliss.

  “Did your check come?” he asks, kissing the top of my head.

  I groan because, when I picked through my mail at lunch earlier today, it still hadn’t arrived. Lola not only took money to have me sexually assaulted, but she also failed to pay me my promised portion as well as my final check. I suppose she needed the money for another lip job. Bitch.

  “No, and if she doesn’t send it soon, I’ll be in trouble.” My laugh is hollow. I really will be in trouble because my credit card statement will show up soon and the call center pays for crap. Borrowing money from my dad might be the only option.

  “Why would you be in trouble?”

  I don’t want to have to ask him to pay back the money I used to bail him out. It was my choice to do that. I’ll suffer the consequences.

  “No reason,” I purr and slide my hand down to his cock to distract him. Gripping him, I slowly stroke him while teasing his chest with my tongue.

  “Fuck, woman. Don’t change the subject.” His breath hitches as I pick up my speed.

  Sliding down his body, I position my face near his dick. And oh what a dick it is. Donnie’s dick makes Jansen seem like he was in Little League, whereas my man plays pro.

  My tongue darts out and I tease the tip of him as I taste a bead of pre-come. While I stroke him, I use my other hand to gently massage his balls—he loves it when I do this.

  “Subject officially changed, babe,” I murmur softly before sliding my mouth over his length. My eyebrow cocks up smugly.

  “Shit, Nora. Shit,” he growls, grabbing on to my hair with both hands.

  When he urges me to go faster, I oblige. I love that I can make him wild just with my mouth. Taking him deep in my throat, I relax and let him thrust a few times before pulling back up so I don’t gag. I’m glad that I was able to switch his attention away from my credit card to my mouth.

  When I feel him tense up, I know he’s going to come soon. Once more, I take him as deep as I can go and he fucks my mouth again. It only takes a couple of thrusts before he bursts out with his orgasm. This time, I do gag, and it all runs out all over him. Oops. I’m still getting used to his size and just how much he comes—the man will make lots of babies one day. The thought warms my heart.

  His laughter booms, and even though I have come running down my chin, I giggle too. I’ll never get tired of this man’s laughter. The sound is beautiful and reaches right inside me, soothing my soul with every chuckle.

  “I’m changing your name from Naughty Nora to Nasty Nora.” He grins down at me.

  Shooting him the bird, I slide off the bed to find a towel. After I’ve cleaned us both up, I curl up beside him again.

  “Nora?”

  “Yeah, Donnie?”

  “I paid off your credit card.”

  I sit up and glare down at him. “What?”

  He just smiles—fucking smiles at me. Smug bastard.

  “You let me give you a blow job knowing I was trying to change the subject and you’d already taken care of it. You’re a pig,” I pout and roll away from him.

  He’s quick, though, and snakes an arm around my waist, hauling me to him so that he’s spooning me from behind. “Nora?”

  “Yes, Donnie?”

  He kisses the back of my head, and I can tell he’s thinking hard about something. “I want to take care of you.”

  I roll around his words in my mind but don’t say anything for a moment. “Okay,” I finally whisper. We’ll take care of each other.

  He chuckles as he slides his hand to cup my breast. “Hell, Nor. Has anyone ever told you you’re easy?”

  “Opposites must attract, because you’re very hard,” I tease.

  Pushing his cock against me, he shows me just how hard he is. “Stormy?”

  “Yeah, Man Who Will Be Castrated Soon for Calling Me Stormy?”

  He chuckles but goes quiet before speaking again. “You’re my calm. I completely understand now how Bobby and Chaz feel about June and Ryan.”

  My heart tightens because that statement is a powerful one. Those men would walk through fire for their wives—their loves.

  Love.

  Does he love me? The man who’s softly kissing my hair?

  Do I love him?

  Without a shadow of a doubt.

  From the moment our eyes locked in the middle of that crowded room at the ball, something sparked inside us that has never come close to being snuffed out—with each passing moment, it grows bigger, brighter.

  “Donnie?”

  “Yes, Nora?”

  He eases me to my back and covers my body with his, planting a kiss on my nose. My legs spread apart so I can bring him closer to me. His hard cock is sandwiched between us, but he doesn’t move to push it inside me.

  “What are you thinking about right this second? No filters. Tell me.”

  He speaks tenderly and without hesitation. “I’m thinking about how much I love you, little lady.” His eyes seem bright. Like the sun. I bask in their warmth.

  I smile because, somehow, I knew.

  “Nora?”

  “Yes, Donnie?”

  “What are you thinking about right this second? Besides my thick cock, of course. Tell me.”

  I smile again. “I’m thinking about how much I love you, sir.”

  He smiles too because, somehow, he knew.

  Dipping his mouth to mine, he kisses me as he fully enters me. This act of making love means so much more in this moment. It’s sealing a deal. The deal is that he’s mine and I’m his.

  End.

  Of.

&n
bsp; Story.

  “Nora?” he groans as he thrusts into me.

  “Yes, Donnie?” I whimper back.

  “I love your hurricane hair and your little boobs.”

  I moan when he goes deep and kisses me hard. “Donnie?” I pant as I near my orgasm.

  “Yes, Nora?” he murmurs against my mouth.

  “I love when you call me Stormy.” Then I cry out when I climax, and his hot orgasm fills me moments later.

  He breaks our kisses to lift up so he can see me better. “Nora?”

  “Yes, Donnie?”

  His eyes grow more serious than I’ve ever seen them. “Even before I hit rock bottom, you saved me.”

  My turn to deflect with humor. “I’m a nine-one-one operator. It’s my job.”

  He grins and pecks my nose with a sweet kiss. “You’re mine, little lady.”

  “You’re mine too, sir.”

  A couple of months later…

  “Please tell me where we’re going,” she begs, batting those long, brown lashes at me from the passenger’s seat.

  “No.”

  She sticks her tongue out at me and I laugh. I’m fucking nervous as hell about how she’ll react to my surprise. I’ve been working my ass off while she’s been at her day job. Everything I’ve done has all been for her. For us. For our future.

  As we drive along the strip toward our destination, I reflect on our relationship. Ever since I came home from the hospital, we’ve been virtually inseparable. I even had a gorilla Chaz moment and insisted she move all of her clothes to my house. As soon as her lease ends, I’ll put my foot down again and she’ll be with me permanently.

  Everything is riding on tonight.

  Things could go one of two ways, and I hope desperately that it goes in my favor.

  “Nora, do you trust me?”

  She turns and smiles, threading her fingers through mine. “You know I do, Donnie.”

  I exhale heavily. Now I’m getting nervous as fuck. She squeezes my hand.

  “Whatever it is that you’re internally freaking out about, just stop. I’ve always got your back. Got it, sir?”

  This will work.

  “Got it, little lady.”

  When we turn down the road where the old Gentleman’s Burlesque used to be, she tenses beside me. Fuck. This better work.

  “Where are we going?” she asks again, this time nervously.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “Nobody hurts my woman. Do you understand? Nobody hurts her and gets away with it, that’s for damn sure.”

  Her brows furrow together in confusion as we pull into the parking lot of her old job. The job where fucking Lola allowed awful things to happen to my woman. My lady.

  “Close your eyes,” I instruct. My voice shakes because I’m mentally freaking the fuck out. What if she flips her shit? Will she hate me?

  “Okay.” She closes them without hesitation. Her voice is strong.

  My Nora fucking Storm. She should be panicking that we’re in the parking lot of her worst nightmare, but not my Nora. No, she’s being strong for me. She can sense the anxiety in my voice and she’s doing that magical shit she does where she engulfs me with her calm, beautiful power.

  She takes care of me.

  And I will always fucking take care of her.

  I climb out and hurry around to her side of the car. Clutching on to her hand, I help her out of the car. She looks sexy as hell in her dark skinny jeans that showcase that tight ass of hers. Her dark-grey sweater hangs off her shoulder, and I’m tempted to bite the flesh there. I grin when I notice that she’s wearing the black knee-high boots I love. I’ve even convinced her a couple of times to let me fuck her in just the boots—nothing else. My girl aims to please.

  My gaze slides up to the new sign blazing beautifully on the side of the building.

  “Open your eyes,” I tell her finally.

  She blinks them open and is quiet for several seconds. My heart beats against my chest. I step behind her and wrap my arms around her middle, resting them on her stomach.

  “I did this for us,” I explain softly. “There’s more inside. Do you want to go in and see?”

  When she nods, I sigh in relief.

  “Nora, I’m sorry. Maybe this was a bad idea. I just thought—”

  She cuts me off by spinning in my arms and kissing me hard on the lips. “Thank you.”

  I hug her tight and look over her shoulder at the sign that now proudly displays “Lady Hurricane’s Piano Bar and Lounge.”

  “There you two are,” a deep voice calls out from the front door.

  We both turn to see ol’ Stormy, the manlier version, standing in the doorway.

  “Dad? What are you doing here?”

  I release her so she can go hug her father. Without his help, none of this would have been possible.

  “I wanted to see my baby take the keys to her new club,” he beams proudly. Then he puts an arm over her shoulder and guides her inside.

  I follow them in and hear her gasp. It’s a good gasp.

  “It’s beautiful,” she murmurs.

  It better be beautiful. I spent a goddamned fortune transforming it into a 1920s-themed bar.

  “How did you manage to buy this place from that greedy bitch? This club was her life,” she wonders aloud.

  I let her dad explain.

  “Do you remember my friend Paige? The investigative journalist from the station that you’ve met a couple of times while visiting me at work? Anyway, I told her about what Lola had done to you. She discovered that there was a lot of shady shit going on after interviewing other dancers. When she found out about the tax liens on the property and the fact that Lola was about to go bankrupt, she passed the news on to me. Donnie, his lawyer, and I worked to strike up a deal to buy the club. It was a steal. After we closed on the sale, Paige turned in her findings to the police, and now, there’s a warrant for her arrest on a variety of accounts. You weren’t the only one she pulled this crap on.”

  Sitting across the table from that evil woman was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life. Nora’s dad barely hung on by a thread as well. But somehow, we managed to grit our teeth and get through it without causing the woman any harm.

  “And,” I tell her with a smile, “I finally got something from Pillsbury Dough Lips.” She looks confused when I hand her a thick envelope. Inside is every penny that bitch owed Nora. We didn’t leave the closing table until she paid it all plus interest in cash.

  “Holy shit, Donnie! There’s way more in here than what she owed me,” she gasps as she thumbs through the wad of hundred dollar bills.

  Stormy and I exchange a look. “Let’s just say the ‘interest’ ended up being the full hundred percent of that last dance versus only seventy-five percent. Believe me, you deserve so much more than what’s in that envelope,” I tell her seriously.

  She nods because you really can’t put a price on the injustice and trauma she received that night. But one hundred percent is a hell of a lot better than seventy-five percent.

  “I’m amazed with all of this. The place looks so different. I really love it.” She grins as she admires the elegant room and tucks the envelope into her purse.

  The contractors I hired completely transformed the place. Every wall has been given a face lift to create a sophisticated atmosphere. All of the mahogany has been replaced with cream-colored wood and coordinating fabrics. Each of the low tables are romantically lit with candle pieces true to the time period.

  “I want to show you something,” I tell her as I take her hand and pull her with me over to the stage. “Stormy, raise the curtain,” I instruct her dad.

  While he goes to the side of the stage to turn on the lights and lift the curtain, we climb onto the stage. The satin curtains begin to cinch together as it rises, revealing Big Bertha.

  “Little lady, I want you to meet the star of our show, Big Bertha.” I bow and wave my hand at the giant beauty for effect.

 
“Oh my God, Donnie! She’s beautiful!” she squeals, running over to the bone colored, very expensive grand piano.

  I roll my eyes at her as she sits and tries to play “Mary Had a Little Lamb.” And just like when she tried to play it on our makeshift drums in the tunnel, she fucking sucks.

  “Stick to singing, babe. You’re much better at it.” I wink at her and scoot in beside her.

  My fingers glide along the keys as I begin playing “Lady” by Styx. Feeling comfortable with my sweet lady by my side, I sing the words to her. She is my lady. And just like the lyrics say, when she’s with me, I smile. When she touches me, my troubles are gone. This song is her song.

  The way she watches me in awe has me wanting to be a better man, always, just for her.

  My lady.

  When the song ends, I go right into “Just the Way You Are” by Bruno Mars. This time, though, my lady joins in with me. And with her arm around me and her head on my shoulder, the two of us singing together, I know this will work.

  This feels easy. Perfect. Real.

  “I knew this was a good idea,” a jovial voice booms from the front door.

  I stop playing to see Kenny, Bobby, and Chaz standing in the doorway. Kenny looks proud as punch as he grins like a fool.

  “That’s why I pay you the big bucks, Kenny Mouse,” I laugh. “You’re the idea man.”

  “This place is badass,” Bobby says in awe as they approach.

  Even Chaz seems pleased. “You know Ryan and I will have to do a cameo appearance, man. She’ll eat this shit right up.”

  Kenny hikes a long leg up and pops up on the stage. “First three months are booked solid. This place is going to kick ass. And at a hundred bucks a ticket, your dad can shove his investment bullshit talk up his ass. This place is going to bank.”

  I grin at him. Even though my dad can be an ass, he’s actually been supportive and dare I say helpful with this process of acquiring the building. I don’t want to jinx myself, but I think he’s proud of me.

  “So, Nora, what do you think? Ready to quit your day job and be a full-time singer?” Kenny asks.

  She sniffles from beside me but nods at him.

  Leaning over, I kiss the top of her head. “You okay? Are you sure you want this?” I question nervously. If she tells me no, that she hates the idea and to torch the fucker to the ground, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I only want to make this woman happy.