Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries

by Anthology

  Amelia pins me to the lockers. Her tiny body overpowering me. Her hips grind against the hard ridge of my cock while her tongue traces along the tattoos on my chest. “You were amazing tonight. I knew you could do it,” she softly murmurs between licks.

  “I couldn't have done it without you,” I groan. My hands grope at the firm globes of her ass.

  “That was all you out there.” She teases her fingers along the V of my hips. “Watching you in the ring got me so wet,” she admits. Her hand dives into my shorts. A low hiss escapes my lips as the pads of her fingers dance across my length. I’m hard as fucking steel, my dick desperate to be buried in her tight sweet pussy. “You got me breaking all my rules.” Her fingers curl around my cock, stroking me as she talks, “One night with this cock and I'm completely hooked.” Her strokes become stronger and greedy, like she owns my cock, and she does. She's the first woman in a long time to get this reaction out of me.

  “Show me how much you want my cock, Angel.” With quick hands, she relives me of my shorts. Goddamn, she's just as ravenous for me as I am for her. She grabs me by the shoulders and whirls me around, pushing me down on the bench. Her hands move to the hem of her dress, sliding the red fabric up over her hips, revealing her bare delicious pussy. Her thighs glisten with her sweet juices.

  She kicks her heels off and straddles my waist. Running her fingers between her wet folds, she brings her hand up to my lips, pushing them into my mouth. Her taste on my tongue makes the beast inside me growl with need. My hands take purchase of her hips, slamming her down on my thick length, making us both cry out as she stretches around me.

  My hands find her zipper, tearing it open with ease. I release her creamy perfect tits. They bounce in rhythm with her hips. Those pink nipples are hard as diamonds and begging for my mouth. She lets out a gasp as I suck one into my mouth and tweak the other between my fingertips.

  “Mmmm, Deacon,” she moans, bouncing faster and harder on my lap. Her greedy pussy pulsing and pulling me deeper.

  She works a hand between us, fingers working her clit. Her other arm wraps around my shoulders, nails digging into my flesh as she holds me tight against her. Her head drops back as she finds her release. I think the whole hotel knows my name now, her loud screams are echoing through the locker room.

  The waves of her orgasm ripple against my cock. I hold her steady while my hips buck hard up into her until my own release sends shock waves through my system. We are so fucking perfect together.

  Amelia softly kisses my sweat-laced shoulder up to my neck. “Hi,” she whispers, kissing along my jaw.

  “Hi,” I reply, sliding my hands around the back of her thighs and rising from the bench, keeping firmly sheathed inside her warmth. I walk us into the showers. Turning the knob, the warm water rains over us. Setting Amelia back on her feet, she removes the remains of her wet dress from around her waist. A smile tugs at my lips, looking at the trail of bite marks I left all along her body. There is still a perfect imprint of my hand on her hip. All those assholes at that mansion know she's mine.

  “So, am I supposed to walk through the casino naked now?” she asks, looking down at the shredded red fabric.

  “Sorry about that, I got a little carried away. I have some extra clothes you can use, and I’ll send Veronica, my nutritionist out to get you a new dress,” I reply.

  “You don’t have to send her to get me a dress, that’s not her job. I will just wear what you have and grab something on the way back to your room. I knew I should have bought more than one dress when I got here.” Her last statement brings back the question of how and why she is here to the front of my mind.

  “What are you doing here Amelia?” I ask, slinging my arm around her waist, needing her close.

  “I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I would drop by and check out your fight,” she says coyly.

  “You just happened to be in Las Vegas on the same night I'm here.” I give her a sideways glance. “Don't play coy with me Amelia. You told me, not ten minutes ago, that you were addicted to my cock.”

  She looks up at me through her dark lashes, pulling her lips nervously between her teeth. She’s cute when she's nervous. “I came here because I wanted to see you and make sure you were okay,” she admits. Not gonna lie, that made my ego grow about ten feet tall. She came here for me.

  “So, do you do that for all your clients?” I ask.

  “Well, no.” Her voice fades.

  “You let me fuck you all night without paying. You flew all the way to Vegas and let me fuck you again without paying, and, by the fact that you are still standing here with me, with the hope of me taking you again shimmering in your eyes… I think you like me, huh Angel? I'm under your skin just like you are embedded in mine.” I press her against the cold tile, sheathing myself in her welcoming warmth. My hips rock slowly against her.

  “Look, I'm just here to make sure you are okay and get one last ride on that pretty cock of yours, so get that idea out of your head. After we are done with our shower, you will never see me again.”

  I buck hard up into her, warning her that she's not in charge here. “Sorry, Angel, you aren't going anywhere until I say so.”

  ****

  Amelia

  It’s three in the morning, and I’m lying in Deacon’s bed in his penthouse suite. His warm lips are trailing along my neck. His hand is between my thighs, lightly strumming my clit while he lazily fucks me. This night has been a blur of incredibly hot sex since we left the locker room. If Deacon wasn’t fucking me, we lay entangled in each other’s arms, talking and exploring each other’s bodies. He got me talking about my life outside the brothel. I told him about my time in Hartford and New York, and how once I have enough money saved, I want to open my own lingerie shop. I've never told anyone about that. At one point, I let him make love to me. It was sweet and beautiful and so not like me.

  He’s got me breaking all my rules. I'm opening myself up to him and that's far more intimate than any of the sex we've had. I'm letting myself be vulnerable around him. I’m getting attached and I can't let that happen, no matter how incredible he is or how he makes me feel. This is just a moment of stupid weakness. I’m just acting like this because he has an amazing cock and that is it. Sorry sweets, but you’re falling for Mister Good Dick. Shut the fuck up, you stupid voice. I’m not falling for him.

  Before my mind can go any further, Deacon rolls me onto my back. He cages me in with his massive frame, resting his elbows on either side of my head. The loving look in his eyes is making butterflies flutter in my stomach. “Come back to Chicago with me.”

  “You're under the influence of good pussy, you don't mean that.” I brush him off. A small part of me wishes it were true this time around.

  “Amelia, I want you to come home with…” I put my fingers over his mouth stopping him.

  “Deacon, I've heard this speech before. You want to take me away from this life and make me your own little sex toy.” I push him off me and climb out of bed, wrapping the sheet around me.

  “Though having your pussy twenty-four-seven is a bonus, that's not all I want from you.” He follows me out of bed and stands in front of me naked. “Amelia, can't you feel the connection between us? It's like a magnet pulling me to you. That's why the sex is so goddamn phenomenal and why neither of us can get the other out of our heads. I want you to come to Chicago with me, let me take care you, and you can open that shop you've dreamed about,” he pleads his case.

  “You can say all the pretty words you want, but it's not going to sway me to uproot my life and move to Chicago, only to have it ripped away from me six months down the line when you get bored with me.”

  “How could you think I would get bored with you?”

  “Because I see it every day in my business. Husbands, boyfriends, they come to see me because the women in their lives don't interest them anymore. You are surrounded by gorgeous women throwing themselves at you. What assurance do I have that you won't
lose interest in me when you find someone new and more exciting?” One of the things about my job that drew me in was the sex without strings. I get the perks of sex without having to get attached. No heartbreaks, no arguments, no disappointment or sadness when the relationship ends. My heart never gets hurt this way.

  “I would never toss you aside for one of those groupie whores.” He cups my face in his hands. “You are the only one I saw in that arena. I want you, Amelia.”

  I pull away from his grasp. “Well I don't want you. I never should have come here. I let some good dick cloud my mind for a moment. I'm just the whore and you are just a client. A client I hope to never see again,” I say, shattering any hope he has about us living happily ever after. The light in his eyes burns out, and I can hear his heart breaking in his chest. I'm a selfish asshole but I'm saving him the humiliation of bringing home the whore he picked up from the brothel.

  He turns abruptly and walks into the closet. When he returns a moment later, he has a couple stacks of cash in his hand. “If I'm just the client then, here, this should cover for services rendered,” he says angrily, reaching for my hand, slapping the stacks in my palm.

  His gesture sends a knife ripping through my heart. I let the stacks of bills fall from my hand, and I bolt for the bedroom door before the tears start to fall. Running through the suite, I pick up my shoes and the bag with my new dress. I’m in too much of a rush to get out of here that I don’t stop to put it on. I fling the door open and sprint down the hallway for the elevators still wrapped in the sheet. As my finger slams down the call button, Deacon comes running out of his suite toward me. He is four doors away from reaching me when the elevator doors open. I dart inside and press the close button repeatedly. They are just about closed when Deacon appears in the small crack. The pain in his eyes radiates to my soul. He yells, “I love you, Amelia, please don't go.” The doors seal shut and I collapse to the floor sobbing. I broke my rules and let myself get attached, and now my heart is paying the price.

  ****

  After heading straight to the airport from his hotel, I was lucky enough to catch a flight home. A few hours later, I am back at Magnolia and stepping out of the shower. I cinch the belt of my robe around my waist and step over to the sink, wiping the fog off the mirror. My eyes are still puffy from crying. I haven’t been able to stop crying since I left Vegas. I made the biggest mistake of my life walking out on Deacon. All he wanted to do was love me and take care of me, and I let my fear of letting him in my heart push him away. I’m an empty hollow shell of my former self. I wanted to protect myself from getting hurt and, not only did I destroy myself in the process, I hurt Deacon.

  Drying my hair, visions of Deacon’s face as the elevator doors closed flash before my eyes. The sadness in his eyes makes the wound in my heart throb. I drop the hair dryer in the sink. My hands drop to the edge of the counter as the tears stream down my cheeks. In anger at myself, my arm sweeps across the counter, sending everything flying across the room. I slump down to the floor, crying into my hands. I'm such a fucking idiot. I think I love him, and I let him slip away before I could see if it was real. No, I know it was real, and now it's gone.

  ****

  Deacon

  My foot taps anxiously against the floor of the plane, wishing this fucking tin can would fly faster. The atmosphere on the plane is alive with excited energy. My crew is still celebrating our win last night. I should feel like the king of the world right now, but all I feel is sadness. Watching Amelia vanish behind those elevator doors was gut wrenching, especially after the way I treated her. I let my anger get the better of me. She was scared and defensive, and I acted like an asshole instead of easing her fears. I raced down to the lobby to find her, but she was long gone. Leaving me with an empty heart and a ton of regret.

  I'm not giving up the fight. Every bone in my body is telling me that we are supposed to be together. She's mine and I will do everything in my power to bring her home.

  ****

  Amelia

  There is a knock on my door promptly at seven. The Senator is right on time. I managed to scrape myself off the bathroom floor and stitch myself back together. The scotch in my system is numbing the pain for the moment. I just pray I can make it through the next couple of hours before I fall apart again.

  I put my best fake confident smile on and open the door. The Senator is standing before me looking dapper in his dark blue suit. The top two buttons on his crisp white shirt are open and his tie is partially stuffed in his coat pocket. He’s relaxed and smiling. There is a cocky confidence sparkling in his emerald green eyes. His first day on the campaign must have gone well.

  He steps across the threshold; his eyes roam my body. The corner of his mouth quirks in appreciation of the view. Red lace bra and thong with a matching garter. The Senator’s favorite. “You look positively ravishing tonight, Miss Amelia.”

  “Thank you, Senator.” A bubble of emotion catches in the back of my throat. I choke it back before the tears start fall. Keep it together Amelia. His hand rests on the curve of my hip and it sends a rush of guilt through my body. The well-placed stitching holding me together is beginning to tear, and I realize I can’t go through with this.

  Just as I’m about to push him away, Deacon comes bursting through the door, dragging two security guards behind him. He manages to shake them off, and they lunge for him again, but they are no match against Deacon and his fierce left hook. They both end up back in the hallway on the floor wincing in pain. He turns his attention back to me, pushing the Senator out of his way as he stalks over to me. My breath hitches when his hand cups my chin. His touch makes me feel whole again.

  “You can’t just barge in here,” the Senator barks.

  Deacon lets out a frustrated growl. He pulls out a wad of cash from his wallet and stuffs it in the Senator’s breast pocket. “This should cover what you paid for your session.” He grabs the Senator by the arm and roughly shoves him out the door, slamming the heavy wood in his face. He slowly stalks over to me. His dark hooded eyes send a chill down my spine.

  “Deacon, what are you doing here?” I stutter, taking a few steps back.

  “I came here for you, Amelia. Since you walked out, I haven’t been able to function without you. There is this huge gaping hole in my chest.” He grabs my hand and places it over his heart. The soft rhythm matches my own.

  “Deacon, I…”

  He presses his fingers to my lips, stopping me from protesting. “You don’t get to talk right now.” He guides me back toward the wall as he speaks, “I’m sorry for what I said in Vegas. I was being an asshole, but what I’m not sorry for is telling you that I love you and that I want you to come home with me to Chicago. You are my end game, Amelia. I need you in my corner, and I don’t care what delusional ideas you have in that head of yours as to why we won’t work. I want you, and I will take you kicking and screaming out of this fucking house if I have to.”

  My back presses against the wall. Deacon’s hand still rests over my mouth. His words are making my head spin. He came back for me. He really loves me and, as much as my heart is going to hate this, I love him too.

  “You’re mine, Amelia.” His hand reaches around my back and unclasps my bra, his fingers gliding between my breasts as the fabric falls to the floor. My body instantly melts against his touch. My eyes flutter closed as his thumb brushes over my nipple, working it into a hard peak. “See, even your body knows it belongs to me.”

  The emptiness that has plagued me all day is slowly filling with every touch of his hands. I need more. I want to feel his bare flesh against mine, taking me, owning me. I want nothing more than to be his. I can see it so clearly now.

  He moves his hand away from my mouth. “Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” he asks with a look of hope in his eyes.

  “Where you go, I go,” I say with a confident breath. “Take me home Deacon.”

  ****

  “Amelia, baby, get that gorgeous a
ss out here,” Deacon calls out. So impatient. Oh yeah, Deacon is going to love me in this, I say to myself as I snap the final clasp on my white lace garter to the silk stockings adorning my legs. I scrutinize myself one last time in the mirror. This new line of lingerie I designed is beautiful and feels amazing on my body. My customers are going to go crazy for it.

  I opened my lingerie shop six months ago in Chicago. The shop has done far better than I ever could have imagined. My designs have been flying off the racks. This came as no surprise to Deacon. He has been incredibly supportive through this whole process. He’s also been patient with me while I adjust to my new life with him in Chicago. My time at Magnolia will always be a part of who I am, but I realize now that I was just hiding out there. I didn’t know where my life was heading. One of the bright spots that did come from working at the brothel was, of course, Deacon, my Saint. He sees the beauty in my flaws and loves me for all that I am. I don’t need hundreds of men dropping to their knees for me when I have one man who is worth more than a thousand men. He’s the only man worth getting on my knees for. The only man worthy of my heart.

  “Okay, ready or not, here I come.” I slide open the curtain to the dressing room and step out, doing a little spin. “This is a part of the bridal collection we are going to start selling. So, what do you think?” I ask, resting my hands on my hips.

  The phone in Deacon’s hand falls to the floor. His eyes darken with hunger as he drinks the view in. “I’ve never seen virginal white look so sinful before,” he says with a sexy panty-melting grin.

  “You think everything I wear is sinful, Mr. Saint.”

  “That’s what happens when the woman wearing it is sexy as fuck.” He stalks across the dressing room, stopping right in front of me. His powerful body towers over me, sending a wave of desire straight to my pussy. “You know what would make this look even sexier?” His fingers hook inside my thong, ripping it clean off my body. With nimble fingers, he opens the clasp on the front of my bra, letting the palms of his hands glide over my bare breasts as he removes the lace. One hand moves to the top of my thigh, popping open each clasp one by one. He sinks to his knees, lips tasting my inner thigh as he slowly slides one stocking off then moves to my other leg, leaving a trail of hot kisses along my skin.