by Dori Lavelle
Done, I observe the new me in the mirror. With makeup on, I look closer to my age, different from the woman who left City Lake. I’ve always looked younger than my age. Looking more mature gives me a much-needed burst of confidence.
I don’t stop at the facial transformation. My hair needs work as well. I pull out the straightener I bought yesterday and force my thick, tight curls to straighten. Wearing my hair straight is a first among many transformations. And after almost an hour of fighting with my stubborn locks, I decide I like the look. My hair looks longer, falling like a waterfall of dark honey to the middle of my back.
I’ve officially crossed the bridge to the other side. No going back now. To finish off the look, I return to the bedroom and step into a pair of jeans that hug my body a little too tight and an ivory blouse that does the same. I’m usually not allowed to feel sexy, but I do. This is me now, the me that’s not brainwashed by a man who looks down on others while ignoring his own sins.
As I step out the door, wrapped in the smell of vanilla and jasmine lotion, I’m a different woman, newly reborn.
I make it to The Little Black Dress twenty minutes before I’m supposed to be there. I hate making people wait, so I always make it a point to be on time.
Maximo Donatello is exactly the way Brynne had described him, almost bald with a big belly and eyes that remind one of a snake. Every time he moves, he reeks of sweat and cigarettes. It’s dislike at first sight.
As I sit across from him, the feeling of insecurity snakes through me.
“Hot damn.” The toothpick between his lips bounces as he speaks. “You’re one pretty piece of eye candy.” He props his feet on the table next to a pile of folders and links his fingers behind his head.
I reluctantly thank him, and he proceeds to ask me questions that have nothing to do with the job.
“Do you dance?” His eyes drop to my chest, making my skin crawl.
I swallow hard. “Um, no. I—”
“That’s a shame. Your body is made for dancing.”
I don’t respond because I have no idea what to say to that.
“What your favorite kind of music?”
“I like various kinds.”
“Aah! A girl of many flavors. I like that.”
What’s that even supposed to mean? I don’t ask. I don’t think I want to know.
He doesn’t say anything more for a while, not with his mouth at least. His eyes are doing all the talking as they roam across my body.
Finally, he gets up from the desk and comes to my side. Goose pimples spread across my skin when he places his warm, sweaty hands on my shoulders. I fight the urge to shrug him off. I hold my breath instead and wait.
He lowers his lips to my ear. “The job is yours if you want it.” He lifts his hands off my body and walks back to his chair. “So, do you want it or not?”
I force a smile. “I’ll take it.”
“Good. Now get out of here and buy yourself a black dress for your uniform. Make it sexy. And remember one thing. Here at the LBD, whatever the customer wants, the customer gets.”
7
Neal
I’m desperate to get through one night without hurting.
I’ve stayed at The Millennium for longer than I’d planned. I wanted to stay a week, but it’s two days after that deadline. It’s hard to let go, to give up the search for Sonia. Every day and night I’d searched for her in every piece of fabric in the room, every drop of water that flowed out of the showerhead, in the air around me. Still, she was nowhere to be found.
That’s why I’m here again, at The Little Black Dress in search of relief from the pain that’s hell-bent on tormenting me. In spite of my resistance, I’ve lost control.
The posh bar with a purple neon-lit entrance located on the first floor of the hotel wasn’t there when Sonia was alive.
I hate that everything has changed. And I hate myself for not being able to suck it up, to move on. I’m not the first man to lose his family to death. I won’t be the last.
People make it through this hell, they rebuild new lives despite the loss. But I’m incapable of doing that. I’m broken beyond repair.
I lift my Scotch to my lips, take a drink, and follow the burn down my throat. It’s a good distraction from my personal hell. Again, I promise myself it will be my last glass, as I did yesterday and days before that. Tonight, I’ve had a few drinks already.
Someone taps me on the shoulder. Before I look up, I push the worn-out photo of Sonia back into my wallet where it belongs, a high-quality coffee-colored snakeskin wallet I’ve carried since before she died. I hate that, like the memories, I cannot stop her photos from fading with time.
“Can I get you anything else, sir?” The cocktail waitress in front of me is striking. I saw her yesterday, admired her from a distance, but she never served me. Some equally pretty girls brought me my drinks.
Of all the women in this place, she’s probably the most beautiful. That was the thought that crossed my mind when my eyes landed on her the first time. But up close, she’s more than beautiful.
She’s not only a knockout, but she has the same innocent doe eyes that Sonia used to have, eyes that had made it hard for me to look away, eyes that made me fall in love with her back in high school. Our love had been so intense that we tied the knot the day we graduated from school. My family thought we were nuts, but why wait when you know? Her death two years later ripped my heart out.
Seeing someone who reminds me so much of my dead wife makes my thirst for alcohol that much more powerful.
I run a hand over my disheveled hair and make a mental note to have it cut to my favorite hairstyle, the crew cut. “I’ll have another Scotch on the rocks.”
“Of course. Coming right up.” She walks away, her body swaying gracefully in her tight black dress.
As she brings me my drink and returns to the other guests, men who are also staring at her endless legs and small, well-formed breasts, I can’t keep my eyes off her.
The way she moves, the gentleness in her voice earlier, and her smile are so familiar to my heart.
Sonia is returning to me through the cocktail waitress. Or maybe I’m just beyond drunk. But hard as I try, I can’t look away, as though afraid she might disappear.
I order more drinks than I know I should just so she can return to my table, so I can get to see her dimpled smile again and be caressed by her voice.
I’ve been attracted to women in the years since Sonia’s death, but the feeling that I was cheating on my wife had plagued me to the point none of them stayed long enough to capture my heart. Why don’t I feel the guilt now? Have I completely lost my wife?
As my eyes follow the waitress around the bar, it hits me that I have another kind of thirst, stronger than that for alcohol, and only the dimpled waitress can quench it. Only she can make the pain go away tonight.
“What’s your name?” I ask when she comes back to me.
“Eva.” Her shy smile deepens her dimples. Her big blue eyes avoiding mine, she wipes down the table.
My dick hardens in response, making my pants painfully tight. I long to lick her dimples, for her to make me forget for one night who I am and what I’ve lost.
“Are you new here?” The slur in my voice can’t be covered up.
Her eyes return to my face. “How can you tell? Am I that terrible at my job?”
“Not at all.” I lean back and widen my legs under the table. “You’re fantastic. Just wondering, that’s all.” The truth is, she definitely looks less experienced than her colleagues.
Since I’ve been here tonight, she has dropped a tray and knocked over a drink. She also doesn’t seem as aware of her sensuality like the other girls around here.
“It’s only my third day.”
My dick twitches at the purity and innocence in her voice that not even the rock music can dilute. I want a bit of her innocence. I need a good fuck with a nice girl. My brothers would be proud.
“When doe
s your shift end?” I ask, horrified at the thoughts that taint my mind.
She straightens up and chews on her bottom lip for a moment before responding. “Midnight.” She walks away, but glances over at me several times during the time I wait for her to finish working. It’s almost as though she knows what I’m up to.
Finally, ten minutes after midnight, she walks past my table, carrying a handbag. I call her over before she disappears, or I start to think straight.
“Do you need another drink? I’m off duty, but I can get one of my—”
“I just need a little help getting out of here.” I let out a booze-tainted laugh. “I’m a little unsteady on my feet. Do you think you can help me out?”
“I don’t know.” She blinks several times and twirls a lock of her hair around her finger.
“I really need your help and you seem nicer than everyone here.” I pretend to struggle to get to my feet even though I’m more sober than an hour ago, when I stopped ordering drinks. I feel like a dick for lying to her, but I couldn’t possibly tell her I want to fuck her.
“Fine. Okay.” She places her hands around one of my biceps. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
8
Eva
My hand wraps tighter around the stranger’s arm, his muscles hard beneath my fingertips.
What do you think you’re doing, Eva? This can’t be right.
As we walk through the lobby of The Millennium, the sexy man’s body leaning into mine, I silence the voice inside my head. I keep moving.
People are staring but I ignore them, looking straight at the elevators ahead. I’ll take him to his floor and get back into the elevator. We never have to see each other again after tonight. But why does the thought make my heart ache a little?
When my little voice speaks up again, I shut it up by reminding myself that Maximo said to do whatever the customers want. I refuse to see anything wrong with helping this man. Except I can’t help wondering if there’s more to this.
I hate to admit it, but there’s something going on inside of me that won’t let me leave him in this state. The moment I saw him back at The Little Black Dress, something inside me shifted. Despite the butterflies doing cartwheels in my belly and my breathlessness every time our eyes met, something in his eyes had tugged at my heartstrings, something deep and sad.
Next to him, I feel like I’m in an out-of-body experience. When the elevator opens, I don’t hesitate before helping him inside. We’re the only two people in the roomy, mirrored space that smells of expensive perfume.
Moments after the elevator starts to move, he presses a button and it jolts to a stop.
“What are you doing?” I whisper through my dry throat just as a shiver runs down my spine, closely followed by the sensation of being flooded with warmth.
He tilts his head to the side and smiles. “Tell me one secret about you. What aren’t your eyes telling me?”
Like a zombie, I answer his question. I feel like I’ve known him forever, as though we’re not strangers, as though something invisible connects us somehow. “Before I moved to Vegas a couple weeks ago, I was left at the altar by the man I dated since childhood.” Tears warm my eyes, but I blink them away.
His jaw visibly tightens. “What fool would do that to a woman like you?”
I shrug and give him a brave smile. “How about you? What secret aren’t your eyes telling me?”
“I want to make love to you.” His eyes never leave mine.
“You—” My body stiffens in shock and my breath catches in my lungs, even though I can feel my nerve endings tingling. “You want—”
“I’ve been wanting to do it all night.” He takes a step closer. “Give me just one moment with you. No strings attached.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear and I shiver. “Give me the permission to fuck you right now, right here. I can make you forget the fool that ditched you, for one moment.”
His words touch me so deeply I feel both shame and arousal. The idea of sticking it to Adrian is tempting, but there’s more, an innate desire to do something I’ve never done before, to be reckless. There’s something about this man that makes me want to do whatever he wants. He hypnotizes me.
One night with no strings attached. It sounds so intriguing.
The moment is magical. And he’s close enough to touch, to kiss. I want to kiss him so badly it physically hurts. For the first time in my life I want to follow my sexual desires and see where they take me. I’m unattached and I’m incredibly attracted to this stranger in front of me.
If Adrian can do whatever he wants, why can’t I? I’m a free woman.
But I’m not that irresponsible. As much as I want this and already feel the heat between my legs, I ask one question that would determine whether this happens or not. “Do you have . . .?”
He reaches into his pocket and brings out a small golden package between his fore- and middle finger. He doesn’t even look drunk anymore. He knows what he wants, and I think he believes he’ll get it. The confidence in his eyes is incredibly sexy. He knows I want him as much as he wants me. The electricity is undeniable.
“Say yes.” He unzips his pants.
My eyes holding on to his as though for courage, I release my grasp from his arm and reach behind my head. I slide the hair tie from my hair, letting it pour down my back.
As though I’m a completely different person, I reach down and slide my little black dress higher up my thighs. “What if we get caught?” I slide my bottom lip between my teeth.
“We better hurry before that happens.” He’s already rolling the condom on.
He doesn’t give me a chance to back out as he presses me against the mirrored wall.
His lips are on mine and the kiss is the best I have ever tasted. His tongue caresses mine only for a moment as though in greeting and then dives right in.
The kiss turns hungry and desperate as his hand wraps around my thigh and brings my leg around his waist. His breathing is labored when he completely sweeps me off my feet. I gasp when he pushes my uniform further up my thighs, out of the way. Then his hand returns to the place that interests him the most. A strong finger pushes away the piece of fabric that covers my innocence.
Shaking, I throw my head back and it hits the mirror. My body is too distracted to feel the pain.
“You are so incredibly hot.” He gives my neck a long lick, from the hollow to the tip of my chin. “Say you want me.”
“Yes.” The word tastes desperate on my tongue. Beneath the fabric of my dress, my nipples become taut. “I do . . . oh, so badly.”
“Good, because you’re about to have all of me.” Shuddering moans escape from my lips when he pushes into me inch by inch, rocking my entire body. His hardness sends a shockwave through me.
As soon as we pass the virgin bridge and enter into a world I had never allowed myself to even dream about before marriage, I let myself break while holding on tight.
My fingernails claw into his shoulders. My back arches, my hips roll and slam into his.
My body seems to know his body. I don’t know how, but it does. It welcomes him completely, tightens around him, and we dance to the finish line. Our journey ends with another scream from me and a roar from him.
As I come for the first time in my life and my body tingles beneath his fingertips, I know sin has never felt so good.
I want more of the forbidden fruit. Much more. It can’t end with just a taste.
9
Neal
Before I open my eyes, I already know something is wrong although, in a strange way, it also feels right.
I open my eyes slowly to meet the morning, to face the consequences of my actions. The blinds have not been drawn yet, but the slices of sunlight cutting through the edges make it possible for me to see enough. For a while I stare at the ceiling, hands clasped behind my head.
I can hear her breathe gently next to me. I know what I should do. I should wake her up and ask her to leave. I cannot believe
I let it get this far, that I allowed her to spend the night. For years I’ve been an expert at fucking and walking away. What the fuck happened?
She was meant to quench my thirst for Sonia and afterward we could go our separate ways, but I got greedy. The more I thrust into her against the walls of the elevator, the more I wanted. Before I knew it, she was inside my suite and I was fucking her all over again, taking my time to relish the feel of my dick inside her warm tunnel. Rule number two shattered.
Since Sonia died, I haven’t had sex with the same woman more than once.
I had promised her one fuck only. No strings attached. I don’t have any strings that could attach to a woman anyway. My pain chopped them off a long time ago. Or so I thought. Now here we are.
The sound of her soft snore and the scent of vanilla floating from her skin forces me to look at her, to watch her sleeping. She sleeps on her side with both hands under one cheek. Her hair is a pool of rich silk on the starched white pillows.
Wake her up. Ask her to go.
I want to. I need to. I have to. But when I rehearse the words inside my mind, an unfamiliar ache spreads through my chest and the headache of indecision nudges at my skull. My dick is also betraying me under the sheets.
What if? What if I have her one last time, a final goodbye, so to say? Surely there’s no harm in that.
No. As much as I want to fuck her again, the guilt of cheating on Sonia has returned. Especially since I made love to another woman in the same room I had made love to her.
Fucking Eva again would be another mistake I can’t afford to make. Except that my damn cock seems to have a life of its own. How the hell am I supposed think and do the right thing when it stirs every time she lets out a breath?
I clench my teeth tight to restrain my desires. Damn it. It has never been this hard to walk away. What’s wrong with me? A pussy is just a pussy, for God’s sake. I can have another by tonight if I want. The LaClaire charm has never let me down before.