My lucky Strike
My lucky Strike
Midpoint
My Lucky Strike
by Claudia Y. Burgoa
©2013 Claudia Y. Burgoa
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Published by:
Literally Alpaca Illustrations, LLC.
Centennial, CO 80111
Smashwords Edition
Cover Art by
Clarissa Yeo
~Jake~
Ellen McPhee pestered me all night during K&W Christmas party. The woman was attractive, petite, and blond with big breasts, any man’s dream. But I wasn’t in the mood today, until she wore me down—I’m human. I agreed to meet her upstairs, even though my little brother hated when I hooked up with his employees. Because that became a hassle for him.
‘“Mr. Knight,” he didn’t call me,’ was the most common complaint.
Taking a last gulp of champagne, I headed to the elevators. My hand met a delicate set of fingers touching the same up-button. I looked down, noticing a pair of silver high heels, with pretty toes matching the burnt orange color of the hand nails I spotted seconds ago. My gaze began to travel up her body, noticing a pair of long beautiful legs, then a black dress hugging her tight. Backless, my lower body noticed. My brain stopped my hand from reaching her bare skin. With her back toward me, I couldn’t see her face. However I got to admire her fine backside, which included a messy up-do holding her hair with loose curls around, covering some spots of her sexy long neck. My body wanted to exchange the previous date with the blond and go with this hot number instead.
Though I tamed it. The bell of the elevator made her turn my way, finally connecting her gaze with mine for a moment. As if I was invisible, she headed inside the elevator. A flowery whiff trapped me and pulled me toward her, feeling like one of Pavlov's dogs ready to get his treat. She pushed number five, while I pushed seven. First floor, now the second and the elevator car shook a couple of times coming to a halt. The lights went off and the emergency ones kicked in. My two options were to check the elevator and try to fix it, or take the opportunity to know Miss Pretty face and Hot Body. The latter excited me, but before I could give her one of my signature lines, she talked.
“Oh no, no. This is not a good thing,” she said. Her startled voice matched her face perfectly, frightened but pretty. Those light brown eyes opened wide. I smiled, but instead of returning it, she narrowed her eyes and continued babbling. “You should worry about this, be afraid.” Her hands fidgeted with the fabric of her dress. “Have you heard of claustrophobia?”
I nodded, debating if I should fix the elevator or let her continue with her rant in hopes that we’d end up in her bed—or mine. Ellen who?
“Well I invented it.” She scratched the tip of her tiny nose and wrinkled it. “Others stole it from me. Let’s see, who’s in charge of New York, Thor, Captain America…. Don’t look at me like that.” Hands on her hips, she stared at me. “We need a superhero to save the day. Because soon the excess sweat will start, followed by a full blown panic attack. You still think this is funny?”
“I used to be a hero.” I stood straight up and puffed my chest like superman. But her frown made me chuckle and couldn’t keep up with the charade. The girl was funny and had a spark, even while there was plenty of panic in those eyes. “May I offer my services; I think I can take care of the bad guys.”
“And the metal box of doom?” A ghostly smile showed up in her face. Her pouty lips begged for a kiss―I abstained. The terrain wasn’t secure yet for her to be taken and mauled—down boy. She sized me up and down, shook her head and laughed―a full blown belly laugh.
“What are your qualifications?”
What? I mouthed and touched my heart with both hands feigning hurt.
“Yeah, I can’t accept those services without knowing beforehand that you’ve really done this kind of job.” Tilting her head to both sides, she continued. “You certainly aren’t scrawny, but it’s hard to confirm with the tux.” Pretty girl gave me an up and down eye glance. “Looks deceive, you could have been using a double during duty and I would never know.”
“Now the real question is, why the change of careers?” She tapped her chin with her index finger. “Was it because you had to wear tights, or the cape, a very unsafe accessory, an Achilles heel for superheroes.”
“Who are you?” I gasped for air while laughing, my brain set on her humor, and her pretty body didn’t allow me to say anything smart. “You guessed, the yellow tights—not my color.” I whispered. “They made my ass look flat.” I composed myself, while discreetly turning to look at it―a move that made her laugh. “I appreciate if you don’t divulge my confession, I faked my death. I warned everyone—twice.” I held three fingers and she chuckled. Her brown-green eyes began to loosen up the tension. Victory. “Change the outfit or I’ll disappear.” No one listened. “Now I’m a regular bystander, with a few superpowers left.” I placed a finger on my lips. “Shh, don’t tell anyone but I stole them from the supply closet before leaving the premises.”
Not only her body, but her personality had me wanting to be next to her and drink whatever she had. I took off the tux jacket and undid the bowtie while enjoying her expression. A combo between wanting to take her shoes off and run away or stay and enjoy the show. Those laughing, crinkled eyes made me want to convince her of the second one and take it to the next level. Slowly I took my vest off, handed it to her, and then proceeded with the shirt. My company demanded me to be fit. I had a better body than Captain America—comic or actor. When I showed her my biceps she gulped with widened eyes.
I gave her a peek of my abs, not much, but she got the idea of how scrawny I wasn’t. Your turn, my insides screamed, but it seemed she was human and didn’t read minds. Hoping that she’d come with me after the doors opened, I pulled the phone from ‘the metal box of doom’ and talked to whoever was on the other side. Her shallow breathing had calmed, but it appeared that she didn’t take well to enclosed places. They gave us a ten to twenty minute estimate, and her body loosened with the news. No rush, I wanted to tell them but desisted. I placed my jacket on the floor and offered her to sit on it.
“You took the job,” she said. I sat next to her and offered her a mint. It was that or a condom. The latter would look rude. “I hate big crowds and loud parties, yet I came tonight. Lack of judgment, right? Then my second choice brought me into this mess.” She said, and twirled one of the loose curls around her ear. “I should delegate the decisions department to someone else. I suck at it.”
“No you made the right choice,” I answered while taking my phone out. “It’s been years since I rescued someone, anyone. I need the practice in case there’s an alien invasion. Would you like me to take the decision making position?”
“I’m not usually like this,” she said, as if we had slept together on our first date, but we hadn’t gotten to first base yet. Not even a kiss. The girl came from another planet, and surprisingly I wanted her to take me to her mother-ship. Then she snickered, going back to my question. “Decision making position, hmm, nope, haven’t decide if I’ll fire myself yet. The paradox: to make a choice to stop making decisions. Lovely, I’m screwed. Now what do we do, hero?”
Kiss, make out, or perhaps use my condom? My phone didn’t have enough reception to play a movie. I decided to play a genius mix based on one of her favorite bands, which were pretty much the same as mine. I discovered she had a huge obsession with eighties movies and enjoyed classical music too. I pulled the keyboard application on my phone and began to play the famous Moonlight Sonata. One hand pressed to her chest in awe and the other touched my arm. She gifted me a bright smile which made her eyes twinkle and turn greenish. She had a power? I stopped and touched her fingers. A super charged current of electricity ran between us and my body wanted to ignite an entire country with her.
Cautiously, like a hunter I maneuvered with vigilance. A kiss and she’d be clay in my hands. No such luck. Another jolt from the elevator car made it move―stupid thing. I stood up and helped her stand from the floor. She was tall, around six inches, maybe seven, shy from my six three. Those heels weren’t as big as I predicted. I picked up her shoes from the floor and handed them to her, and she thanked me with a smile. The perfect moment to taste those pouty lips; however, the doors opened on the third floor where the concierge, manager, and other hotel personal waited for us. We thanked them and made our way to floor number five using the emergency stairs. She didn’t want to risk spending the night inside an elevator.
When we reached the fifth floor, I opened the emergency door for her to go in, but before she left me standing, I lightly grabbed her elbow. “Not so fast, beautiful, you’re skipping a step.” She lightly turned toward me, and now we almost faced each other. Her cheeks were two or three shades lighter than red. “The hero gets a kiss after the rescue.”
“Silly me,” she said, and placed her lips over my cheek. I moved fast enough to receive a half kiss on the lips. Wide eyes, she froze for a second before moving away and waving. “Have a great life, hero.”
“I will if you give me your name and number.” I kept holding the door open waiting for her to throw something my way. “You read the stories, watched the movies, don’t mess up with the script, babe. Destiny brought us together.”
“Serendipity,” she said loud, and quickly she covered her mouth with her hand shrugging. “If it’s meant to be, you’ll see me again, so long for now.” Her composed voice lingered for a few more minutes with her sweet aroma. I waited until she got inside a room, and then I went back to the emergency stairs, heading down.
I made my way back to the party, where my brothers and I drank another beer and visited with Dad. A month later serendipity brought us back, at JFK airport where a plane would take her to Sweden, while I just landed in America. It was worth taking a commercial plane instead of flying my own plane. She declined my request for a name or a number, only a peck on the lips and a beautiful smile. Two months later. Bam, my lucky strike.
Late afternoon on a Saturday I went to the pub while Mom and Mitch—my twin brother—finished their acquisitions for his restaurant in New York. There she was, curly brown-reddish hair, light jacket covering her canary yellow dress, and shoes that matched perfectly. No boyfriend, girlfriend or husband. The table contained a salad bowl; and a plate with fish and chips—cliché English food. When I approached, I startled her with my voice. “Is this seat taken?”
Not waiting for an answer, I pulled the chair next to her and sat. Ignoring her stare, I signal the waitress who rushed to take my order. Beer on tap and fish and chips. By then I understood that this pretty girl’s eyes changed color with her mood, from puzzled, to excited and finally annoyed. All in under ten seconds—adorable.
“Stalker,” she said, and pinched a spinach leaf, chewing on it before her next sentence. “How do you do it, did you attach a tracking device while I wasn’t watching?”
“Damn, I never thought about that one.” I faked regret and moved close enough to give her a lingering kiss on the lips, they froze—no response from her part. But her eyes went a little green with a few speckles of brown. “Paid that friend of yours.” She arched an eyebrow, grasping her fork tight. “Serendipity. And it brought me my lucky strike.” I winked at her. “Charged me an eye and leg to set this up, now can I get a name?”
A sincere laugh began, and continued for minutes as she hugged herself tightly with both arms. It satisfied me to see her smile that way. She seemed the kind of person who took everything too serious when others watched.
“Name.”
“You seem like a nice guy.” I hated the speech, the nice guy got turned down and then the hot guy scooped the girl. But wait, in my experience, I was the hot guy, why was she turning me down? “I told you once, you don’t want to deal with this,” she said, and waved her index finger around herself. “I’ll give you my name, but then I might have to kill you. You, being a hero, won’t allow it and things will get bloody and messy. Let’s avoid the drama and gory scenes, skip the trailer and move on to the finale where you walk towards the sunset—alone.”
I didn’t get a name, but I convinced her to give me a couple of hours with her. It took me a glass of wine and the promise of decadent pastries. We stopped at different stores to admire the local products. She bought a few scarves, a pair of shoes, hair knickknacks and souvenirs, all in cash, and none of her cards or identifications showed inside her wallet.
Before I could make a move, Mitch called, reminding me we had plans for the evening and I couldn’t cancel them. Fucking Serendipity, he loved to tease me. Once again she refused to give me a name and a number. “Let it go.” She crinkled her nose. “Life happens. There’s a reason for everything. Now, move on, Pretty Boy, and stop those stalkery tendencies.”
Her speech annoyed the hell out of me, and I shut her up with a kiss. Gentle at first. I explored her lips and got them used to mine, and continued with some pressure as my tongue begged to be let inside, gliding slowly until I met hers and had a quick playdate. Our mouths synchronized with each other, producing enough pyrotechnic material to ignite the entire European continent.
“Until next time, pretty girl.”
Next time wasn’t as long as the others; Serendipity put her next to me, in The Ritz Hotel. Liam held his stupid office celebration, and I second guessed being a silent partner. I had arrived late, but obligated I made my way to him and gave Liam a quick apology. I then headed to the room I had reserved to change into my formal attire.
“This sucks.” An angry puppy wearing a pretty yellow dress kicked the door of the room next to me with her pointy yellow shoes and cursed. “Two keys, next time ask for two. You demagnetized it―again. They’re going to think you’re stupid and crazy for talking to yourself.”
~Emma~
I wasn’t counting on seeing him again, but darn Destiny put him in front of my hotel bedroom. While I fought with the key and the door, another demagnetized badge to add to my Brownie vest.
“I’m on duty,” A voice came from behind. Great, pretty boy’s going to laugh, or worse kiss me until I lose my mind. Yes please. “The way I see it, you have two options. One, we go downstairs and get you a new card, or you can sleepover next door.” He wiggled both eyebrows. “We can continue that kiss the rude pedestrians interrupted.”
Can you say blunt? He remembered the stupid kiss, who wouldn’t. If those are his kisses, I can only imagine what he’ll do during the sleepover. Dangerous territory, did I remember how to do it? Wait, is he timing me? Cocky boy, now he’s whistling the jeopardy song.
“You’re looking for more than a sleepover, right?” I scratched my nose and crinkled it. He look up to the ceiling searching for spiders, checking the structure or praying for strength. Maybe he would give up and decided to turn around, regretting he asked me to sleep with him. Longing, and the need to share something with him, pushed me to make a decision so unlike me. “I can’t fight it, what are the odds. This is what, four, well technically three since I saw you earlier today. I should’ve skipped the party and stayed, decision making is a bitch. How much did you pay destiny―because, man, you are consistent.”
His grin, followed by a
few movements to open the door of his room, made my legs wobble. Yet, I followed him while my mouth mumbled more nonsense. “You got protection, pretty boy, because God and you only know where you stuck that thing before me.” A smooth way to remind him about condoms, right? “No names, this is a once in a lifetime event. I don’t do complicated.”
“Have you done this before?” He closed the door behind me. Yeah, but with a normal guy, not godlike boy who has the power of… make me forget my… where am I? “Because I don’t want to—”
“Take my V card?” I laughed, hiding the nerve-wracking moment. Would it be stupid to confess that I did it after our first encounter, because if a situation like this ever presented, I didn’t want to be unprepared? No, don’t be stupid, Emma. “Believe me you won’t. I’m twenty one.” I gave him a proud look while he frowned.
“Not twenty five?” I shook my head. Since I turned twelve my body and face had always said older. “Twenty one….” his Adam’s apple moved slowly.
I nodded. “And you?”
“Twenty six.”
“That’s nothing, and I’ve done it a few times before today.” I pushed my nose making sure it didn’t grow. “Though, my experience is limited to normal stuff. I’m not into weird things, like my sister. She… well, started too early in life—fourteen,” I whispered. “Oh boy, when Dad caught her having sex with two guys... Luci wanted to hire him as his right hand guy.” His frown deepened. “Lucifer,” I clarified, “as in the fallen angel—the one who runs hell. Anyway, last time I heard, she enjoys pain and all that fancy stuff. Or might be a rumor—we don’t talk to each other. But I’m game for the normal.” I think?
My lucky Strike Page 1