by Kira Blakely
She could hardly breathe, but she didn’t care. Dawson was still wrapped around her, his arms holding her tightly even as he softened inside her. If she had thought that she was frigid before, he had proven otherwise, and she reveled in the knowledge. He groaned and reluctantly pulled out of her, rolling over and pulling her with him to nestle her in the crook of his arm with her head on his chest.
They were both completely exhausted, and even though Alexa tried her hardest to stay awake, her eyelids were just too heavy. They fluttered closed as she started to drift off to sleep. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming, but just before she lapsed into slumber, she thought she heard him say something.
“My idea of heaven would be to spend all night, every night here with you like this.”
18
WHEN ALEXA WOKE UP the following morning, it took her a moment to remember where she was. And then the memories of the previous night flooded in and she wanted to pull the covers up over her head and hide in embarrassment. She wasn’t ashamed at what they’d done, but she did feel a little appalled that she’d gotten so drunk during the gala.
What on earth must Dawson think of me, she thought, feeling absolutely mortified by her behavior. Not only had she thrown accusations at him at the start of the night, she’d then proceeded to get drunk in front of some of his business partners and competitors.
She peeked over at the other side of the bed and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that he wasn’t there. He’s probably halfway back home by now, trying to get as far away from you as quickly as possible. She knew that he would never actually abandon her like that, no matter how much he might think about it, but she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had left.
“Good morning, beautiful.” The bedroom door opened and in walked the man in question. He gave her a smile that could only be classed as beaming and she found herself smiling shyly back at him. “I wasn’t sure what you like to eat for breakfast, so I ordered a little bit of everything. I figured that after last night’s exertions, you’d be ravenous.”
Alexa gave a moan of embarrassment and dragged the covers up over her head to hide the fact that she was blushing, much to the amusement of Dawson. “A gentleman wouldn’t have reminded me of that.” She felt the bed shake as Dawson started to laugh, and she grabbed the pillow beside her and threw it at him playfully.
“Wait. Did you say breakfast? Did you really bring me breakfast in bed? That’s another first for me.”
“That’s a crying shame. You deserve breakfast in bed every day, as far as I’m concerned.” She could hear the sincerity in his voice and was touched by it.
They shared the contents of the breakfast tray, making small talk about nothing in particular as they ate. Then, Alexa remembered what she thought she’d heard him say as she drifted off to sleep the night before.
“Can I ask you something, Dawson?”
“Of course. You can always ask me anything you want.”
She wasn’t quite sure how to broach the subject, so she just came out with it. “Just before I fell asleep last night, I thought I heard you say that your idea of heaven would be to spend every night with me like we did last night. What did you mean, exactly?” She sounded obtuse, even to her own mind, but she really wanted to know so that they didn’t get their wires crossed again.
It was Dawson’s turn to blush, and that was a sight that she’d never thought she’d see. But he didn’t try to change the subject or avoid answering the question. “I meant exactly what I said, even though you weren’t really supposed to hear me. You’re making me see the world through different eyes and in a different light, Alexa. You always show compassion to people, even people you don’t know, and you’re making me want to see more of the good in people, too.” He held her gaze as he spoke and she could see that he really meant what he was saying. “Ralph always told me that I should never try to judge them and that I should always try to see things from other people’s perspective, and that’s something that I think I’ve lost sight of a little. In the car yesterday, you cried for a little boy you’d never met and for the man that he would become. I watched as you gave money to a homeless man, and I know that it was money you could ill afford to give away, but you did it anyway, because his need was greater than yours.” His voice was filled with an emotion that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “I find myself wanting to be a better person because of you, even though I don’t think I’m necessarily a bad man.”
“You’re a good man, Dawson – no matter who may have told you differently in the past.”
He smiled and leaned over her to give her a kiss that left her breathless. “I have no idea where our relationship is going to go, but I would like a chance to see where it might take us. That’s if it’s what you want to as well.”
“I’d like that, Dawson. I’d like that very much.”
The End
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Billionaire In
The Making
A Company Ink Novella
The Prequel
Kira Blakely
1
AS HE WATCHED THE WOMAN GET DRESSED, Dawson couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. He’d gone and lost his virginity to the class bike - so nicknamed because every other male kid in high school had probably ridden her.
He’d thought that he would feel good about finally getting laid, but in all honesty it made him feel a little repulsed. Maybe it’s because it didn’t actually mean anything other than a means to an end, he thought to himself despondently. Yeah, and it could also have something to do with the fact that it was the promise of you getting her a joint to smoke after Friday night’s game that had her opening her legs for you.
“Don’t forget to get me my weed in time for Friday, yeah?” Her nasally voice almost made him wince in distaste, but he hid it well and just nodded at her as she left the locker room.
He should have been feeling pleased with himself. Shit, he should have been elated that his cherry had gotten popped by someone with obviously more experience than he had. But all the act had made him feel was vindicated in the thought that there was no such thing as a good woman. All there seemed to be were women who would do anything to get what they wanted.
He knew that he wasn’t being fair in his assumptions that all women were the same. He also knew that his deep-rooted distrust for the so-called fairer sex was a direct result of his own mother’s abandonment because of her heroin addiction. He didn’t even know her name or anything about her other than the fact that she’d had a habit that had caused his birth to be premature and his life afterwards to be one filled with hardships and devoid of love.
He didn’t hate women. Far from it. He had a small handful of women whom he adored as friends. But he’d yet to find one that he actually wanted to be in any kind of long-term relationship with. It could be because almost all of the women who’d fostered him had never shown him any kind of compassion or any semblance of love. It could be because he’d listened as foster moms and dads had argued over whether they should take in another child because ‘it would give them more money each month’. Or it could simply be that he’d never met the ‘right one,’ and he didn’t think he’d ever be convinced that she actually existed.
So far, life hadn’t shown him that it could offer him anything good, but he was determined to make something of himself – he just didn’t know what or how yet. He was seventeen and had just a few months to go in school, and he was determined to graduate, no matter how hard he had to work. He’d been lucky to actually find a high school that would take him, considering how many times he’d been expelled for fighting and vandalism. He knew that most of it was his own fault. This was his last chance, and he couldn’t afford to get thrown ou
t of this one.
2
THE ONE THING HE HATED more than school was when the school bell rang to announce the end of the day. Going ‘home’ to the children’s home he now lived in was nothing to look forward to. He could honestly say that he had no good memories of the place. If anything, it was the complete opposite, with his earliest memory being literally locked in the bedroom at nights without a light on. Hell, there wasn’t even a bulb in the light fixture, and the older boys had either comforted the smaller ones who were afraid of the dark, or in some cases laughed at them and called them babies. Dawson had gotten into fights on more than one occasion when he’d stood up for the younger kids.
With the ‘care-givers’ yelling, and the kids crying and whining, it was nothing short of miraculous that he hadn’t run away. Fuck, it would probably be more peaceful living on the streets than in this hell hole, he’d thought on more than one occasion. He’d even had to fight the urge to run away and actually live on the streets rather than go home every night to the hell that ensued at the home, and if it hadn’t been for his best friend, Ashton, who he had more or less grown up with at the home, that’s probably exactly what he would have done. But he had less than a year to go at school and at the home, and Ashton needed him just as much as he needed Ashton – especially if they were actually going to do what they were so determined to do and graduate.
Besides, the gym he’d joined gave him some semblance of normality; it was a place where he could do his homework in relative peace and take out his frustrations and anger at the world in the boxing ring. Ralph, the guy who owned and ran the place, had broad shoulders and a willingness to listen to the kids who frequented his gym, and he always seemed to know when something was troubling them. His place was more than just somewhere where kids could work out. It was a sanctuary of sorts.
Ralph had been watching him pummel the crap out of the punching bag for the past twenty minutes, and a blind man would have been able to see the anger that spewed out of the young man. Ah, son, what have you gotten yourself into now, he thought as he made his way across the floor to take hold of the punching bag that Dawson was busy torturing.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” Dawson’s words ended on a whoosh as he threw another punch at the bag.
The older man winced at the power behind the punch, but he kept hold of it. “About whatever it is that has you knocking the sawdust outta my poor bag here.”
Dawson shook his head and wiped the sweat away from his eyes with his forearm. “Nothing to tell.” The old man just grunted in response, and Dawson knew that he wasn’t fooled for a minute. “I hate my life, Ralph. I hate everything about it.” He threw another punch that made the bag swing on its chain.
“Everyone has a cross to bear, son, and this one is yours. But are you gonna let it stop you from making things better, or are you gonna overcome it and become stronger as a person?” Ralph had been running the gym for long enough to know that there were some kids you could help and some who simply didn’t want helping, and he’d known Dawson long enough to know that the kid could go places if he really tried.
Dawson finally stopped punching the bag and grabbed at the towel that was slung across his shoulders. “I’m just tired of it, Ralph. I thought things would get easier, and I’ve been doing good at school and getting my grades up, but I never feels like it’s enough.” He threw a smile at the man that held more cynicism than any seventeen-year-old should ever have. “I got laid today for the first time, and even that felt wrong. Probably because she was nothing more than a slut and it was in the boy’s locker room at school.”
The flicker of disappointment and admonishment in Ralph’s eyes made Dawson feel a little ashamed at his words. “Now that’s no way to talk about a lady, son. No way at all. Even if she doesn’t act very ladylike.” He handed a bottle of water to the teenager. “Remember, everyone has a story, and you don’t know why she acts the way she does any more than she knows why you act the way you do. Always try to put yourself in other people’s shoes before you judge them too harshly, boy.”
“Yes, sir.” Ralph was one of the few people in the world who Dawson respected, and the tone of his voice reflected it.
The following morning, he and Ashton walked to school together as they usually did. Dawson had just finished telling his friend about the events in the locker room the day before, and Ashton was slapping him on the back in congratulations.
“Yeah, bro! You finally got your dick wet, huh?”
“Fuck you, asshole.” He playfully pushed his friend away, pretending to throw a punch in his direction.
“Aw look. The un-loveable duo is in love – with each other.” Dawson felt his heart sink as he heard the unmistakable sound of the senior class bully jeering as his cohorts laughed along with him. “I’m surprised you didn’t fall right into that whore. I bet it was like throwing a hotdog down a hallway.” The kid was trouble with a capital T, and he liked nothing better than to make ‘the losers’ as he called them, feel even worse than they already did. He was built like a brick shithouse, but his IQ was so low that only his reputation as the star football player allowed him to get away with treating people the way he did.
“How the fuck you can stand to be near each other is a mystery. Fucking losers. Your own fucking parents didn’t even want you,” he said.
Dawson could feel Ashton tensing up beside him and his senses went on high alert. He was under no false illusions as to just how dangerous his friend could be when riled, and these guys were doing a damn good job of riling him right now.
“Come on. Let’s just get to class, Ashton.” He put his hand on his friend’s arm to try and steer him away, but Ashton just shrugged him off.
“What did you say to me, asshole?” His tone was quiet, but you couldn’t miss the menace behind it.
“You heard me, loser. I don’t even know why they let your kind come to this school. All you do is stink the place up with your smell.” The kid was walking towards them, and Dawson felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
SHIT, this was not good, he thought as he looked around them almost desperately to see if there were any teaching staff nearby who could help them. Ashton was strong enough to fight his own battles, but he’d been in so many fights that the next one would probably land him in jail.
Dawson took his hand off his friend and stepped back. There wasn’t much he could do unless he wanted to end up expelled, and he had too much riding on these last couple of months before graduation to join in the fight that his best friend seemed determined to take part in.
That is, until he saw a knife in the other kid’s hand, and everything changed in the blink of an eye. All rational thoughts regarding school and graduating flew out of his mind as he saw the glint of the knife’s blade as it reflected in the sunlight.
“Ashton! Knife!”
His shouted warning came just as the boy lunged forward, and Ashton jumped backward just far enough that the knife grazed his chest rather than plunge into it, but the stain of red as it spread across his best friend’s t-shirt was enough to motivate Dawson into action. Moving as quickly as he could, he managed to grab hold of the kid’s arm before he could swing again, twisting it backwards with one hand while the other landed a punch to his gut.
Hearing the knife hit the ground and the other boys run off, Dawson took the time to breathe a sigh of relief until Ashton started pummeling the kid in earnest. He didn’t stop until Dawson pulled him away.
“He’s done. Come on, man. Let’s get out of here.”
They made their way to the bathroom so that Ashton could check out the knife wound on his chest and the two of them could clean themselves up. Dawson’s adrenaline was finally starting to slow down, and he’d stopped shaking enough to actually talk.
“What the fuck, Ash? You couldn’t just walk away, could you?”
“What was I supposed to do, bro? I couldn’t let that douchebag get away with saying all th
at shit to us.” He shot a grin in Dawson’s direction. “He won’t try that shit again, will he? I beat the living fuck outta him. Did you see his nose spread across his face?” Dawson gave a wry smile back in return. “Thanks for having my back, dude.”
“Always, brother. You know that. We’re family.” There weren’t many people that Dawson could say that about, but he and Ashton had been through a lot together, and he was the only person he knew that felt like family. He knew without a doubt that if he ever needed anything, Ashton would always be there and vice versa.
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About the Author
For years, all Kira ever wanted to do is write her own books. After ghost writing a few best sellers for other authors, she realized it was time to start taking credit for her own work. Her personal struggles in relationships and finances had driven her to start doing what she loves, which is writing full time.
She first took to writing when she was a teenager. She fell in love with a boy who didn’t love her quite as much as she loved him. She admits this was partly due to her being slightly overweight and seriously insecure. This painful experience drove her to start practicing her craft. If she couldn’t have the love of her life, she would create Mr. Right in her romance novels, and maybe give him a few embellishments, lol.