Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries

by Anthology

  We come to a stop in front of a closed door at the end of the hallway. I can hear faint moans coming from the other rooms. Amelia opens the door and pulls me inside. The room is on the small side. In the middle of the room is a queen-sized bed flanked by two curtained windows. On one side, there is a wooden nightstand with a box of condoms and a bottle of lube sitting next to a lamp. On the far wall, next to a closet, there is a mirror hanging above a dresser, and a bathroom is tucked away on the other side of the bed. This is not what I was expecting. I was half expecting a dark room with a sex swing hanging from the ceiling and whips and chains lining the walls. This looks like an average bedroom.

  ****

  Amelia

  “So, Mr. Saint, what brings you to my door this evening?” I ask, slipping my hands inside his leather jacket. His powerful chest is hard against my palms. I’ve been with my fair share of athletes; their bodies are some of the most finely tuned machines in the world. Even through his clothes, I can tell Deacon’s body is on a level all its own. As his jacket slides off his arms, I notice his shirt can barely contain his thick roped arms and massive broad shoulders. He’s a powerhouse, but his soulful brown eyes exude kindness. A far cry from the intimidation of his body.

  “To be honest, this wasn’t my idea. I’ve lost my last three fights, and my manager is so worried that I’ve lost my edge, he set this whole night up for me. He thinks you have some luck changing magic about you. I think this whole thing is ridiculous,” he admits. Honesty, how refreshing.

  His eyes are watching my every move as I drape his jacket over the dresser. I'm used to men looking at me, my boobs came in when I was fifteen, but Deacon’s gaze is electrifying.

  “I wouldn’t say that I’m magic by any means, but I do possess a knack for helping clear the mind. Something has obviously gotten you off your game. A champion boxer doesn’t start losing overnight. What was going on around the time of your first loss?” I ask. I watched a few YouTube videos of Deacon’s fights before our session. In previous fights, he had such an unwavering confidence. Every punch was precise and powerful, taking his opponent down within the first round. But now there is a hesitation, like he’s questioning every decision.

  He sinks down on the edge of the bed, and his gaze drops to his hands. “My trainer passed away last year. Back when I was a kid, he kept me out of jail. He was one of the few people who believed in me. He was more of a father to me than my deadbeat dad. Now that he’s gone, I have no one in my corner.” The sadness in his voice sends a twinge of pain through my heart.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss. I can see how that could make you lose your edge. Saying goodbye to someone who meant so much to you can be hard. If I had to guess, I’m pretty sure your trainer wouldn’t want you throwing away everything you worked so hard for. I’ve seen a few of your fights.”

  “You’ve watched my matches?” he interrupts me.

  “There is this thing called the Internet. I used that Google box to look you up.” That gets him to smile. “It’s part of my job to know all about my high paying clients.” I settle between his legs and slide my fingers under his chin, bringing his eyes up to mine. “You are one of the best boxers in the world, question is, do you still believe that?” I feel like a therapist right now. I’m supposed to be seducing this guy, but all I want to do is fix him. Take away the pain that is weighing so heavy on his shoulders. “I can fuck you, and numb the pain for a brief moment, but until you let go of the pain you are holding onto, you will never get your head right.”

  “I get everything you are saying, and I know that is what I have to do, but right now, I just need something, anything, to get my mind off the pain.”

  “That I can help you with.” I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra. The sadness in Deacon’s eyes gives way to a dark lust filled gaze as his watches my every move. His nimble fingers help to work my thong off my hips. If it’s a distraction he wants, then a distraction he will get.

  “Fuck, you’re so damn sexy.” His deep growl makes my clit throb. He buries his face between my legs; his beard tickles my inner thighs. He kicks my legs wider with his foot while his tongue tastes my lips. My head drops back, hand fisted in his jet-black hair. He sucks my clit into his hot mouth, sucking and nibbling on my little bundle of nerves. His thumb pushes inside my wet channel at the same time his index finger pushes inside my tight hole. My body surrenders to him completely, letting him take all control away from me.

  “Holy fuck,” I groan, barely able to hold myself up as he works both my holes. One of his strong arms snakes around my waist, holding me up while Deacon eats me out. Between his fingers, tongue, and the delicious burn of his beard, my body is on the verge of exploding. This man eats pussy like a fucking champ.

  Just as the orgasm starts to rage through my body, Deacon releases his fingers and throws me down on the bed like I weigh nothing. He reaches behind his head and pulls his shirt off then lifts my hips off the bed, bringing my pussy up to his greedy mouth. His tongue plunges inside me, making me cry out. He’s like a ravenous animal that won’t be satisfied until he’s devoured every last orgasm he can pull from my body. Every release is more intense than the last. My body is shaking as he pulls me over the edge, again and again.

  As the last spasm rolls through my body, Deacon lays my hips back down on the bed. My whole body feels like a limp noodle and all he’s done is fuck me with his mouth. My vision comes into focus on his dark hooded eyes as his hands are working open his belt. I pull my lip between my teeth in anticipation as he pulls out his already hard cock. My eyes drink in every thick hard inch. There is nothing small about this man. My pussy is purring for that beast to be buried inside me.

  “I think I should be paying you for the privilege of riding that beast of a cock of yours.” I scoot to the edge of the bed, head hanging over the side. I reach a hand out, wrapping it around his thick length, stroking him while my tongue lavishes his balls. He grunts his appreciation as I suck on his tight sack.

  “Open that pretty mouth,” he demands huskily, brushing my hand away.

  I do as I’m told and open my mouth for him. He grips the base and traces his tip around my lips before pushing the full length of him inside my mouth until he hits the back of my throat. He tastes so fucking good. I’ve sucked a lot of cock in my time; not one has come close to the taste of Deacon Saint. I could suck him off day and night and still not get enough. I’m so turned on, my clit is pleading for release. My fingers find my aching bud, working it in fast hard circles.

  “Is sucking my cock turning you on?” he groans, as I suck him harder.

  I moan a yes, pushing three fingers inside me, but my pussy still needs more.

  “Then spread those legs and show me how greedy that fucking pussy is for my dick.”

  My legs fall open, fingers pounding harder and deeper while my other hand works my clit. My pussy clamps down on my fingers like a steel cage, juices dripping down my hand. I usually need lube to help me get this wet. Deacon and his silver tongue have me so damn horny it’s like a tidal wave in my pussy.

  “Your mouth is fucking heaven,” he groans, fucking my face faster. He swats my hands away from my mound, then bends his huge upper body over me. “I need you coming on my tongue while I come in your mouth,” he says, before his hot mouth latches onto my clit. It's the jolt I need to send me rocking over the edge again.

  His body stiffens all around me, cock throbbing and pulsating in my mouth, which prompts me to suck harder while my hand massages his balls. A deep growl vibrates to my core as he comes hard.

  Deacon pulls me off his cock and before I can catch my breath, I’m on my back at the head of the bed, and he’s filling me to the hilt. Lips crashing against mine, the taste of Deacon and me mixes together on our tongues. We taste amazing together.

  “This isn’t going to be sweet or gentle Amelia,” he groans. The full force of his thrust pushes me further up the bed.

  “Take what you need from me Deacon.”
>
  He grips my wrists, forcing my hands above my head, driving deeper and harder. His eyes fall closed and he’s lost in his rhythm, he’s lost in me. Using my body to take away the pain, this is what he needs to feel in control again.

  Deacon pulls out, flips me on my stomach, forcing me up on my knees, and drives himself oh so fucking deep. I brace my hands on the headboard, thrusting my hips in rhythm with his. His hand fists in my hair, using it as a handle while he pounds into me with every ounce of force he has in him. I’m going to feel him between my legs for the next two weeks. His teeth sink into the delicate flesh of my neck. Normally, I don’t allow my clients to bite me, but I want Deacon to mark me, own me, make me his.

  “Harder,” I moan. “Bite me harder,” I order. He clamps down on the flesh between my neck and my shoulder. The pleasure-filled pain makes my pussy clench around his cock. Fuck, this is so damn hot. His tongue soothes over the red mark left in his wake. The next nip sends me flying over the edge.

  Deacon pulls me into his lap, hips bucking wildly. One hand is at my clit pinching my buddle of nerves between his fingers, the other hand is cupped at my breast and his hot mouth at my ear coaxes me to come again. His dirty words set me off. Through my daze, I can barely hear him grunting out his own release.

  He collapses onto the bed, pulling me on top of him, his hard cock still buried inside me. “How much for the night?” he asks, thrusting in my channel.

  I sit up, resting my hand on his chest while I ride him. “If you keep fucking me like that, the rest of the night is on me.” I slyly grin down at him. That was the best fuck I’ve had in years, and no way am I letting this man out from between my legs anytime soon.

  He rises with a devious glint in his eyes that makes my stomach flip. His hot mouth sucks on one of my pink nipples. A hand moves around to my ass, his finger teasing at my tight hole. “Then I better make sure you get your money’s worth.”

  ****

  Amelia

  I stride through the casino at the Bellagio, past the craps tables and the rows of slots, on my way to watch Deacon’s fight. After he left my bed this morning, I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. Usually when clients leave my room, I never give them a second thought. There is something about Deacon I can’t shake. The sex was phenomenal; the things that man did to my body were out of this world. He left his mark all over my body. I submitted to him last night, I never do that. Control is everything in my line of work. We give clients the illusion of being in control while all along we are pulling the strings. But I could see in Deacon’s eyes that was what he needed. He needed to gain control in his mind again. He’s been haunted with the grief of losing his friend and trainer, so I let him control me, use my body. God help me, I loved it.

  With Deacon still in my head as I left work for home, I drove past my exit, headed straight for the airport, and boarded the first flight to Vegas I could get. The only way I was going to get him out of my head was to see him again. One last fix before we say our final goodbyes. It pains me, the thought of never seeing him or having him in my bed again.

  The usher guides me down to my seat, front row center. I called in a favor from one of my regulars who I helped restore the adventure back in his marriage. I take my seat and scan the crowd. There is a group of women, a few rows over, all wearing Saint’s Angels t-shirts. I feel a pang of jealousy twist in my stomach, wondering if he’s been with any of them or any of these other girls holding signs with his name on them. Jesus, what the fuck is the matter with me, I shouldn’t be getting jealous over a man that isn’t even mine. I need to get my shit together.

  “He’s a client that’s all,” I whisper to myself, but the bitchy little voice in the back of my head is throwing her two damn cents in. If he’s just a client, then why did you follow him all the way to Vegas? I know why. He dicked you right, and now you’re cock whipped, just admit it. I think it’s time I drown this bitch with some booze.

  ****

  Deacon

  I’m sitting in the locker room with my headphones on, and the music blaring in my ears. My head rests on my taped fists, and the images of Amelia dance in my brain. I’m supposed to be clearing my head of all distractions, but all I can focus on is her and her sinful body.

  I left the mansion just as the sun was cutting into the night sky. I didn’t get a minute of fucking sleep, but I feel like I have the energy to take on ten opponents at once. I couldn’t get enough of Amelia and that tight perfect pussy of hers. Being with Amelia was like an out of body experience. She made me feel like a fucking king. Now I'm hooked and jonesing for another hit. I should have followed my instincts, thrown her over my shoulder, and brought her ass here with me to Vegas. I need her here with me in my corner.

  The song playing in my ears ends, signaling it’s go time. I slide off my headphones and rise from the bench, setting my iPod on the shelf in my locker. I reach for my gloves from my bag when I find the picture of Eric and me the night I won my first championship. That night was unforgettable. I was the underdog going into that fight, but with Eric in my corner, I proved to the world I was a force to be reckoned with. He was so proud of me and how far I had come. If it weren’t for him, I would be rotting away in some prison right now.

  I never got the chance to say my goodbyes to Eric before he died. I was in New York when I got the call that there had been an accident. Some idiot truck driver fell asleep behind the wheel, swerved to the wrong side of the highway, and hit Eric’s Land Rover head on. He was gone before the ambulance arrived.

  Holding the picture in my hand, I can hear Amelia’s voice in my ear telling me if I don’t let go of the pain I will never get my head straight. “Thank you,” I say aloud. “Thank you for everything you did for me. You took a chance on me when everyone else was willing to just throw me away.” With every word, the weight I’d been carrying begins to lift. The fog in my mind gives way to the light. “I miss you old friend, you may be gone, but I know your spirit will always be in my corner.”

  I slip the photo back into my bag just as my new trainer, Jackson, walks in. “You ready boss man?”

  My lips curl up in a confident grin. “It’s Romeo Gonzales’ day of reckoning.”

  The roar of the crowd and the pulse of the music sends adrenaline coursing through my veins. My hands are steady, my head focused. I am as sharp and clear as glass. My eyes are fixated on the ring, the place I feel most at ease. My home.

  “WE LOVE YOU SAINT!!” The crowd chants and screams my name. It’s my job to give them the show, the thrill they have all been waiting for.

  Jackson holds the ropes open for me. I step into the ring, and the beast that has been hiding for so long roars inside my chest. He’s been hiding in the dark waiting, lurking, ready to feast on his next victim. I shed my robe, tossing it to my crew in the corner. Romeo is bouncing around the ring showing off to the crowd. He’s been talking a big game all week, calling me out as a has been and saying that I should just hand over the belt instead of embarrassing myself by going head to head with the great Romeo Gonzales. He can run his fucking mouth all he wants; he won’t get a rise out of me. I’ll prove myself where it counts, here in the ring.

  I start to pan the crowd and lock eyes on her. My Amelia. My heart pounds wildly in my chest, and the beast lets out a possessive roar. The crowd disappears and it’s just her. A beam of light in a red dress. Even fully clothed she looks like sin. Those long lean legs that looked so damn good spread wide for me last night are crossed, keeping me from seeing that pretty pussy of hers. A growl rumbles from deep in my chest. The need for her burns deep in my bones; it only angers me that I can’t have her.

  Her eyes pan my entire body. My dick twitches as I watch her warm tongue glide across her lips as her eyes fixate on the bulge in my shorts. She adjusts in her seat. Just my mere presence has her turned on. Our eyes meet again and a smile erupts across her face. I return her smile with a wink.

  The announcer comes on the microphone and pulls my atte
ntion away from Amelia. I cross the ring, meeting Romeo in the center.

  “Good luck, old man,” he says with a cocky grin. I stay hard and focused. While Romeo spent his week as the media string puppet, I spent mine studying his moves. He has a fast right but his left is slow as fuck. He comes out fast and hard in the first few rounds, wearing himself out quickly. If I can bide my time and let him tire himself out, I’ll have him on the ropes.

  The bell rings and, out of the gate, Romeo throws the first punch just as I knew he would. I duck out of the way and land a fist against his rib cage. I can feel Amelia’s eyes on me and it makes me feel even more powerful. I’m no longer fighting for myself or for the crowd. Tonight, I’m fighting for her. Romeo takes a few cheap swings, barely inflicting any pain. I retaliate with a clean shot that rocks him. Romeo is still dazed, wobbling on his feet, so I take the opening and rain down the hits, sending him falling to the canvas out cold.

  The Ref grabs my arm and lifts it high. The crowd is on its feet, going wild. The only face I focus on is Amelia’s, my lucky charm. She’s on her feet cheering, screaming my name. I get free from the crowd in the ring, jump over the ropes, and head straight for her. All I let her get out is a muffled hello before I crash my lips against hers. She deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping in my mouth. Her lips are warm, soft, and dangerous.

  The possessive beast in me takes over. Grabbing her hand, I drag her through the crowded arena to the locker room. We burst through the door, crashing against the lockers. Our movements wild and hungered. Lips, teeth, limbs, a tangled mess of need ready to explode.