The Lottery

by Alexandra O'Hurley

  “You are going to move in and be here…a year?”

  The eyebrow lifted again, and he began speaking to her like she was a child. “You bought a ticket…for the lottery…yet you didn’t bother learning what it entailed? Yes, I will be grabbing my bags and hopefully pulling them inside your apartment, which hopefully is not as dirty as you are, and I will be living in there for the year I signed up for. Believe me, at this moment, it is the last thing I want to do.”

  “Okay, so the details are hazy, you don’t have to be so rude.” Turning, she started to walk in through the door, hurt a little that her present was apparently prettier on the outside. “I just didn’t realize that you would actually live here, nor did I realize it was for an entire year. But don’t let me stop you, by all means gather your junk and drag it inside my dirty apartment.” Halting, she stopped him, placing a finger into the middle of his yummy, broad chest. “And by the way, it isn’t dirt, its paint. If you are going to live here you had better get used to it.” She knew her crabbiness and her mouth was all driven by the hellacious hangover she had, because under normal circumstances, his words would have turned her into the mouse Sam always claimed her to be.

  “Big difference. Dirt, paint, it’s all a mess.” He pulled his bags inside the door and dropped them. He was so tall and wide, he barely fit through the half opened door, and it made her insides melt. He stood with his hands on his hips, and looked around her space. Looking back at her, he glared. “Where do I go from here? Where is our room?”

  “Our room? Umm, I don’t know.”

  He looked at her like she had sprouted a second head. “You don’t have a bedroom?”

  “Of course I have a bedroom. I just have no idea where you will be sleeping since I didn’t think I would win; I did not make arrangements for you.”

  “Well, if you have a bedroom, then I have a bedroom. What is there to arrange?” He finally gazed past her and spotted the large artist’s loft beyond. “Oh, well, artist rustic…how…quaint.”

  The way his nose curled up when he said the word quaint further pissed her off. “I’m so sorry my lodgings are not up to your standards, but it is what it is. I am a painter, and I live and work out of this studio. I live completely alone, and was not expecting a year-long house guest, so plans will have to be made as to where you will sleep and all that.”

  “Great. What do you have against me sharing your bedroom? I will be sharing your bed at night. That’s usually the plan.”

  “Sharing? Mine?” Karlyn blushed. “Can you..uh...excuse me for a moment?”

  Before she could pull away to compose herself, she felt his hot fingers wrap around her wrist, and she was pulled against his muscular chest. The air was knocked out of her lungs as she looked up into his face, noting the perfect curve of his lips and the deep cut angles of his face. She could lose herself all day just staring at him.

  She had seen pictures of men this gorgeous, but had always thought they were a myth. As his sweet smelling breath warmed her face, drawing her attention back to that perfect mouth, she felt the hot brand of his cock resting on her stomach. Tingling sensation raced to her nipples and her mound, as she watched transfixed while his mouth descended towards hers.

  Pulling back, afraid of what was happening; she attempted to pull from his arms. His steely grasp was too strong and she could not free herself from his grip. A tremor flitted down her whole body at the strength he seemed to wield, and she felt dampness spread in her panties. His lips neared hers again, and she pulled back once more, but not enough and she felt the soft graze of his mouth against hers. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and he appeared to take the sound as he acquiescence. He pulled her tightly to him, the hard ridge of his manhood showing her how ready he was to fulfill the promise his kisses made.

  Heat erupted all over her body as his hands skidded down her back and onto her bottom, and the only thought that crossed her mind was taking off her clothes and allowing him to finish what he had started.

  As one cool hand snaked up the back of her shirt and moved to the clasp of her bra, she was reawakened. Pushing against his hard chest, she took a deep, calming breath, attempting to cool the ardor he had flamed.

  Backing away, she could not look him in the eye; embarrassment over succumbing to his charms within five minutes of him walking through the door was nearly devastating.

  Karlyn rushed up the antique wrought iron stairs to the artist loft. Racing to the vid phone on the far wall, she called Sam. Having absolutely no idea what to do with a man, let alone one as sexy as this one was, regardless if he was a complete ass, she needed help and fast. Not like a lesbian would be able to do much better, but hell, it was all she had at this point. Sam took her time answering, but looked nearly as exhausted as Karlyn felt.

  “Jesus H. Christ, can’t I get some fucking sleep?” Sam rubbed her fists into her eyes and looked through squinted eyes at the screen before her. “Oh, good morning Karlyn. I thought you were someone else.”

  “Sorry to call so early, but I have big problems, and those problems are your fault.”

  “What the hell did I do?”

  “I won.” Karlyn was at a loss for words, throwing her hands up into the air for emphasis, as she had no idea how to explain her situation with the possibility of the hunk downstairs hearing her. That was one of the only pitfalls of loft living, few walls, little privacy, but considering she spent most of her time alone, it had never been a problem until now.

  “You won? You won what?” Recognition finally fell over Sam’s features. “Oh my God, you fucking won the baloney pony? That’s freaking awesome!”

  “NO! It is not awesome. Did you know said pony boy gets to live here for the next year? At my house? Possibly in my bed? Or that I am in the deepest of shit right now? I can barely afford to support myself, let alone some guy who walked in here expecting me to be rich and have this wonderfully appointed palace. I can’t give him the life he expects. He is evidently used to being pampered, and he’s a little bit of a jerk. Strike that, a lot of a jerk. The thought of riding his baloney is not all that appealing at the moment.” Taking a deep breath, she sunk into the giant bag chair on the floor. “What the hell am I going to do, Sam?”

  “You will be fine. My friend Miranda’s boss was looking over some of your paintings last night at my place, and she asked me to contact you about doing a piece for her. A commissioned piece could really give your career and your pocketbook a shot. I will get you her number later; I have it around here somewhere.”

  “Okay, that may cover one of numerous issues here, but one piece will not be able to cover all of his expenses, especially since he looks like the pampered type used to the finer things.” She stood up and walked closer to the edge for a moment, peering over to see if he was eavesdropping. Inching back after seeing that he was in a corner inspecting one of her large wall murals, she lowered her voice anyway. “And he just stated that he expects to share my bed.”

  “Mwarrr, girlie. This was the point of the lottery. To get laid. Repeatedly. And you sort of have to be in the same bed to get laid. But then again, it doesn’t necessarily have to be the bed. It could be the couch. Or a chair. Hell, the bathtub is a personal favorite, but then again the shower…”

  Karlyn cut her off before she could ramble further. “This is serious, Sam. I don’t need a list of where you have had your sexual exploits. Don’t you see the issue?”

  “I guess I don’t. You have the next year to spend with this man and there are millions of women right now that would kill for this experience. Thousands spent ten million a ticket to have that chance. I don’t see what’s so wrong with getting your money’s worth.”

  “You…spent…ten…million…dollars? You have got to be friggen kidding me! There is no way I can accept this now!” Pulling her fingers harshly through her hair, she felt as if even more pressure was being rested squarely on her shoulders. “Are you insane? Ten million dollars?”

  “Too late, you can’t turn him
away. No refunds. No refusals. And you are worth every cent, especially now since you actually won. He isn’t my type; I’m not into dicks, so you have got to take him. He’s your present and for you to refuse would be poor etiquette.”

  Karlyn raised an eyebrow. “I’ll remember that the next time I come over to your place to watch a movie and you burp and fart all night. Etiquette, my ass. You wouldn’t know etiquette if it came up and bit you.”

  “Whatever. And since you are going to be put out thanks to my gift, maybe you can sell me that gorgeous set of magnolia paintings you just did.”

  “Great, another handout?”

  “Heck, no! I have been eyeballing them for the last couple of weeks, and I think I know the perfect place to hang them. And speaking of balls - I know I am not into guys, but is he at least gorgeous? The lottery guys usually are a better class of stud. But there was always the chance of a dud. So which one is he?”

  “He’s hot as hell. He made my damned knees weak when I laid eyes on him. And he is absolutely friggen out of my league, Sam.”

  “I love it when you get mad, because you cuss almost as much as me. It’s so cute.”

  “Stop trying to change the subject. Are you going to help me or what?”

  “Help you? Whatever for? Tab A is inserted into Slot B. I have never tried it, but that seems to be the basic instructions. Go get ‘em girlie. If you are gonna have to spend dinero supporting his ass, then the least you can get is your freak on. You earned this chance and don’t forget it. Have fun with him, it may be the only chance you get to have a man. And let me get that number for you. I would hate for you to not be able to feed and water your new pet.”

  Chapter Six

  Karlyn stood looking at the blackened vid screen for a few moments, contemplating what she should do. Never in her wildest imaginings would she have considered the possibility of winning this lottery. And it wasn’t even her ticket. Damn Sam and all her generosity. As usual, Sam had gotten her in a situation she didn’t want to be in, and now she wasn’t here to help face the consequences.

  Finally walking back down the stairs, she could barely face the man still standing near the doorway.

  “Are you ready to get down to business?”

  “Business?”

  ****

  “Well since you don’t seem to want to share your bed, I guess I need to show you what I can do. Are you ready for me to fulfill my contract?” He was getting very irritated at just standing there and having her gawking at him, especially after their encounter earlier. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but there was something about her that made his blood rush to places it had not in far too long and his fingers itched to touch her. “I am here to do a job, and I figured you would want to see my sexual attributes. Just tell me what you like and don’t like and I will fulfill your fantasies.”

  Karlyn stood there open-mouthed. “Ummm…well….I don’t think I’m prepared to get down to…ummm…business…quite yet.”

  He looked quizzically at her, not used to women not pouncing on him and using him to their heart’s content when given the opportunity. Did he not please her? He was sure she was interested, because she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. She was unlike the women he had lived amongst for the past fifteen years. Somehow, she almost reminded him of his sister. Her timidity caused him pause, and he chose to back away a little.

  “So what’s the verdict on the bedroom situation?”

  “I will let you have the bed. I will take the couch. Let me show you the way through.”

  “The couch?” He raised an eyebrow, and looked her over. She was covered from head to toe in multi-colored splatter and her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He would be able to tell the color of her eyes when she finally got the nerve to look directly at him. They looked light, but he wasn’t sure. Her paint covered clothes were ratty and torn. Maybe he should be glad she wasn’t expecting him to service her immediately. It could be worse he supposed. Some old hag could be jumping his bones this very second.

  Ethan followed her down a small hallway, through an open entryway, and into a spacious bedroom. At least it was clean and tidy…a livable space. He dropped his bags near the bed and looked around the room. French doors lined one whole wall, and from the looks of it exited to a lovely balcony overlooking the city. He noticed a small garden rested there as well.

  The old roughened red brick that were in the outer walls of the space were covered with drywall on three sides, giving the room a softer look. Paintings littered the space, covering most the great expanse. If they were hers, she was definitely talented.

  He walked over to the one directly across from the foot of the bed and felt drawn inside the crazy city street scene he saw before him.

  “That was one of the first paintings I painted once I moved in here. The city just spoke to me, and I felt the electricity and the life in the streets.” He heard the happiness in her voice, it touched something deep inside him and for some reason, he grew angry. Hearing her talk about her artwork, he sensed the joy in what she did. Seeing how he had reacted to her body, there was no way he could allow himself to like her. She was no better than any of the others he had been with, and this game of avoidance was probably some kind of mind fuck. He had to be cool and unresponsive, and let her know he would not play her games.

  “It’s passable.” He groaned inwardly, not knowing where the crudeness had come from. There was a difference between being indifferent and being plain rude. Had he been out of the game so long that he had forgotten the rules – that he was an actor in the game of seduction and needed to play his part? Whether he had liked the picture or not, and he had, he should have stroked her ego.

  “Passable? An art lover, I see.” He turned to her and saw the vivid dejection written all over her face. She turned and exited the room. Ethan’s conscious bit at him, bile rose in his throat for the way he acted towards her. And the fact he had put that look on her face. He was there to please her, not piss her off. He was not prepared to end up tied to a bed, being whipped until he was black and blue like the last time he had pushed Ophelia too hard. But Karlyn was messing with his mind, acting like she didn’t want him there, and it was throwing him off his game.

  Pulling the portable vid screen from his pocket, he called his sister. Stuck in the hospital already, she was there while they began the cloning of her brain tissue and working on neural transference. Re-wiring the brain now would help prevent serious loss of bodily control after the surgery.

  She answered the phone, looking weak and pale. His heart wrenched seeing her this way and hoped that this last effort would be the end to her suffering. He needed to be there with her, but this was his only chance to pay for the operation and get them to a point where they no longer had to worry about poverty.

  “Good morning, sis. How are you feeling?”

  “Still a little tired, but I actually feel better. When are you coming back to visit me?”

  “In a few hours, I hope. I had to do the whole lottery thing and get settled into my new digs here. I should be able to slip out and see you shortly. Don’t worry love, everything will be better now. You will be great and we won’t be poor.”

  “Is she horrid?”

  Ethan thought to himself a moment before answering. He settled himself down to sit on the bed, and sighed. “No, she isn’t horrid. Don’t worry about me…you need to worry about yourself right now, Bailey.”

  Her body had not felt horrid pressed against his, that was for sure, and thoughts of capturing her mouth ran through his mind as he tried to finish the conversation. Less than an hour in her house and he was already under her spell.

  ****

  Karlyn stood against the brick wall of the hallway, not meaning to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help herself. She had come to bring him clean sheets and towels, but had inadvertently caught part of a conversation.

  “I had to do the whole lottery thing and get settled into my new digs here. I should be able to slip out and se
e you shortly. Don’t worry love, everything will be better now. You will be great and we will not be poor.”

  “Is she horrid?”

  Slipping away before she had to hear the response to that and feel even more disgusted with herself, she stomped up to the art loft, pulling out a fresh canvas and propping it up on an easel. Painting always soothed her, and when she felt any strong emotions, it was what she turned to.

  This guy was absolutely horrible. He had a woman in his life, yet his desire for money had been bigger than his relationship. There went her visions of Prince Charming and love ever after. This was real love in the modern day, and thoughts of his touch suddenly repulsed her.

  That is such a lie. The thought of him touching her excited her, and that alone made her even angrier. She had seen men before of course, not often, but she had been in close contact with them before. Then again, none had ever been as attractive, and never had she felt a reaction as strong as she felt with Ethan. It was hard to breathe when he was close to her, and her whole body felt engulfed in flames when he looked her way, even when something asinine was coming out of his mouth. Her panties were wet thinking about the possibilities his arrival could lead to. There was a real, live man in her house. Too bad he was an ass.

  Her brush moved in short violent strokes across the canvas. Jabbing at the cloth, pressing the pigments into the fibers, she felt the anger release. Getting lost in the action, she almost forgot about the freeloader in her bedroom. Not until she stepped back from the canvas did she realize her floral arrangement was beginning to look more like a nude male form. What the hell? She was so over her head in this situation. She contemplated the canvas, wondering if she should continue to vent her hostility, or if she should choose a new subject matter.

  “Is it all right if I go out for a while? I have an errand to run.” She jumped as he yelled his question up to her in the loft. Going to the metal banister, she looked down at him, seeing the deep chiseled face looking up at her with derision written in every line. One of his hands rested on the bottom banister. His big strong hands with incredibly long fingers that could potentially do incredible things to her.