The Black Chapel

by Marilyn Cruise

  “Which was?” Michael’s pacing now.

  “Well, I said you were handsome and a perfect gentlemen.”

  “Come on, is that all?” He looks beside himself and grabs my arms.

  “No, that wasn’t all,” I say, angrily. “I said that when I’m with you, I finally felt like I’d come home.”

  He looks bewildered for a moment and then he lets go of my arms. “Oh.” He walks away from me and looks out the window.

  “What are you thinking?” I say.

  “Is that how you actually feel?” he nearly whispers.

  I don’t know what to say, because I didn’t think we’d be having an honest conversation based on something I had said when I wasn’t really trying to be honest.

  “Is that how you feel about me?” He turns around and looks at me, eyes blazing.

  Oh, he’s so handsome when he looks at me that way. I start breathing heavily, and as if out of the blue, the atmosphere in the room has changed. I feel a shiver going up my spine and I lick my lips. Then I realize that I do feel at home around this god of a man. “Maybe.” I lean my hip on the backside of the couch.

  He throws his head to the side. “Scarlett! This is supposed to be a business transaction.” He touches his forehead, his eyes are irritated now.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, angry with myself for having been so open. “It’s just when I’m around you, everything feels so—” What’s the feeling? “Right.”

  Suddenly Michael’s in front of me, so close I can feel his breath on my head. I look up and he turns me so I’m facing him. His eyes search mine, as his face lowers and as if he’s asking me to let him kiss me. I respond by lifting my lips toward his, and then in the blink of an eye, his mouth is on mine. I wonder what I said that granted this response, but I refrain from overthinking it. I want to enjoy every moment of the attention he is giving me.

  “I can’t stop thinking about your wet, smooth skin,” he says, pulling away just enough to get the words out.

  I try not to grin too much. My plan had worked, just not exactly in the timeframe I had wanted.

  His hands cradle my face and make their way down to my hips. He pulls me close. Oh, his hands are so powerful, so demanding. And he smells so good. I never want the kiss to end.

  “We shouldn’t—” he says between kisses, but I really don’t want him to stop.

  I knit my fingers through his hair and tug at it. Pulling him back, I see the hungry gleam in his eyes. He smiles and I smile back at him.

  He lifts me onto the back of the couch and presses himself toward me. I feel his erection against me, and I feel a powerful surge of desire jolting through my body. I reach to feel him, but his hand stays mine.

  “We shouldn’t—” he says again.

  This time, I can hear he doesn’t really mean it. His hands explore my body, stopping at my breast. He gropes me and I gasp. Then his hand makes its way underneath my shirt to my back and he undoes my bra. He comes to the front and fondles my breast again with one hand and pulls me closer to him with the other, pressing his erection between my legs.

  “You are so amazing,” he says. He helps me out of my shirt and I’m sitting before him completely naked from the waist up.

  “You are so beautiful, Scarlett.” His eyes are ravenous. “Should we talk about this before we—?”

  “No,” I say, afraid too much talking will only make us too aware of what we’re doing.

  He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him. He’s so strong. He carries me upstairs into my bedroom, and I realize it’s finally going to happen. Michael unzips my skirt and I remove it along with my panties. Once I’m undressed, his eyes scan my body. “You are utterly enchanting.”

  I worry that he’ll recognize me as Samantha, but he doesn’t seem to be thinking of her at all. Only me, Scarlett.

  He takes his shirt off, baring his sculpted shoulders, and tight abs. I walk over to him and touch his firm, hairless chest. He’s so chiseled he looks like the God of the Greek gods.

  I feel my desire for him grow stronger with every passing second. He pushes me backward, walking me toward the bed. I feel him and reach for him. This time he doesn’t stop me. I pull his erection out, feeling his fullness, my fingers not able to reach all the way around. I moan, highly anticipating that soon he’ll be inside of me. He removes his pants, and now we are both standing naked next to my bed. I’ve never wanted a man like I want Michael Manning.

  “We shouldn’t—” he says again. This time he smiles playfully.

  “Are you sure?” I say. “Because I could stop right now if you’re not sure.”

  His gaze turns soft. “No, I really want you.” He halfway smiles and then lifts me up by surprise, causing me to laugh. Looking me in the eyes he says, “But just so we’re clear. This must not change our deal.”

  “No,” I say, though every ounce of me wants to say: It totally changes the deal.

  I’m so excited—I can’t calm my body. Does he truly want me as much as I want him? His hands lightly caress my shoulder, then my chest, he my abdomen.

  “You feel like an angel,” Michael says. “I can’t wait to be inside of you.”

  I feel so hot, and the throbbing feeling in the deepest part of my lower abdomen needs release. “Oh, Michael,” I say.

  He lays me gently on my bed and then sits down next to me, his eyes scanning my body. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he says.

  I wonder how many women he has been with, but decide that now is not the moment to bring it up. He kisses a trail up my leg, to my inner thigh, and I open myself to him a little more to let him in. I judder with each cold, wet kiss and then his tongue glides in between my legs. He breaths heavily, and the hot, humid air excites me even more.

  “You smell like Heaven,” he says, inhaling me deeply.

  I let out a moan and he takes my moan as an invitation to open my legs even further. He licks his fingers and then slides them into me, and then starts moving them. I think I might come right now—it’s that arousing.

  “Does this feel good?” he asks, his eyes searching mine.

  I moan again—louder this time. “Yes.”

  “I want you so bad, Scarlett,” he says. “But I won’t until you come first.”

  He moves his fingers faster and faster until I feel myself begin to climax. I’m rising higher and higher, until I feel myself reach my peak “Oh, oh, yes!” I say.

  “Now, I’m going to take you.” He straddles me on the bed and then stops. “Do I need to use a condom?”

  I shake my head. “I’m on the pill,” I say. Quite a way to lose the moment, but he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it.

  He smiles softly, and then rubs himself up against me, exciting me even more.

  “Please,” I say. “I want you so bad.”

  Then slowly, he glides into me and starts moving. “You are so wet, Scarlett.”

  “I’m so wet for you,” I say. He’s the one who has brought me to this point of no return, of desire and of sheer need. He moves faster, stroking me on the inside. I feel my body build again, ready for another climax, willing for another moment of pure pleasure.

  “Oh, Michael,” I say.

  “You like this? You want this?”

  “Yes,” I say, the peak emerging like a burst of fire.

  “Oh, Scarlett. You drive me crazy. I can’t get enough of you.” He’s moving so fast, slamming into me, the sweat of our bodies mingling.

  I feel myself climaxing, and he yells my name, banging into me two more thrusts—so deep, so gratifying and so forceful.

  Michael is propped up on his elbows, and he exhales, his head dropping down. He lifts his head and his eyes connect with mine. “What a woman you are,” he says.

  I smile and feel my cheeks flush. “You’re not so bad yourself.” If I were to be truly honest, I’d tell him that he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. But I can’t say that. I’d be admitting far too much far too soon.

&nb
sp; 16

  Michael is only the second man I’ve been with, but I can say without a shadow of doubt that I hope he’ll also be the only man I’ll be sleeping with moving forward. The first one was the last loser I dated, and it was more forced than anything. The difference is, with Michael, I really wanted the sex, and he made me feel things I’ve never felt before.

  “That was incredible, Scarlett.” He kisses me gently on my forehead.

  “Yes, it was,” I say. He’s holding me close and I feel so full of bliss I can’t stop smiling. Not only is he a very endowed man, his hips can do the most amazing things, making me reach a whole other level of climax.

  His fingers glide across my skin and I start to feel the heaviness between my thighs again thinking about what he has just done to me.

  “I hate to ask, but what time is it?” he asks and kisses my shoulder.

  I roll over and check my alarm clock. “Two thirty.”

  He kisses me again on the lips and then hops out of bed. His derrière looks like it should be on the cover of a men’s fitness magazine. “I have to go to work,” he says.

  He’s fully dressed and he sits down on the bed next to me. “I had a really good time.” Then he pauses as if uncertain whether or not to share something.

  “What was it that I said that made you attack me?” I smirk.

  “Attack you, did I?”

  “In a nice way,” I say.

  “That you felt at home with me. I’ve never had anyone say that to me.”

  I smile, wondering if he feels the same way about me, also. “I said it to your mom, too, but I didn’t quite get the same reaction out of her.”

  He laughs. “I don’t know what she’s thinking. I may never know.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to put you in a difficult spot,” I say.

  “Don’t worry. You’re not.”

  We smile at each other.

  “I’ll miss you,” Michael says and kisses me before standing up.

  “I’ll miss you, too.”

  He heads for the door. Before leaving, he says: “I just want to make it clear that I didn’t do this for show.”

  “Then why did you do it, Michael?” I tease.

  He pauses and then shakes his head, saying, “You are just too—”

  “Too what?” I ask.

  “Irresistible,” Michael says.

  I’m irresistible?

  Oh, and keep Christmas Eve open. Formal dinner at my house at 5:00 p.m. Everyone will be there and they are excited to meet you.” He’s off.

  I sigh quietly and smile. Wow, what a man.

  That night at work I inform Laila that I cannot and will not under any circumstances entertain Mr. Manning ever again. I tell her that I thought about it and feel completely degraded by the experience. She looks shocked, but agrees to inform Mr. Manning that I will no longer be available if he comes back.

  Tonight is another night of our Christmas theme. I have requested the rest of the week off to plan for my wedding, though I haven’t told anyone here about it except for Anne.

  “You are crazy, girl,” Anne says when I tell her what happened with Michael. I still can’t stop smiling thinking about it.

  “You had better get me a new car once the deal has gone through,” Anne says.

  “I’ll get you five cars,” I say.

  Anne nods her head. “And a house?”

  “Maybe,” I say. I perform two numbers, and there is no sign of Michael anywhere. I’m so relieved. Maybe he has changed his mind about Samantha. My plan is coming along nicely. But during my last number he shows up and sits right up close next to the stage.

  I try to dance as far away from him as possible, but I still can’t avoid his intense glare. What the hell is he doing here? Once my music ends, I can’t get off the stage fast enough. I see that he gets up too and approaches Laila. Spying on them from behind the wings, I see her shaking her head. He’s persistent though. And finally I see Laila head for the backstage door. Crap! She’s coming for me.

  I run to the dressing room and hurry out of my costume. I manage to have my jeans and t-shirt on by the time she’s back, hoping she’ll just see that I’m halfway home already.

  “Scarlett!” Laila yells halfway across the room. She only calls me by my real name when she means business. “I need to see you in my office right this minute.”

  I wince, but follow her to her office. Once inside, she says, “I told Mr. Manning what you said, but he is insisting on seeing you again.”

  My heart hits the concrete and shatters into a million pieces. He’s cheating on me. I remind myself that he’s cheating on me with me, but it doesn’t really make things better. Should it?

  “Mr. Manning is willing to pay up to fifty thousand dollars for an hour with you, and I’m sorry that I have to say this, but if you don’t accept, I’ll have to let you go, Scarlett,” Laila says. She leans forward on her desk and gives me the evil eye.

  “No, you can’t do this. Performing in the Sanctuary isn’t in my contract. I was just hired as a dancer, not a roomie,” I say. Tears are suddenly in my eyes, and I know this is all coming down on me because I created this problem and now I’m receiving my punishment.

  “What is your hesitancy with this man? Did he not treat you well?” Laila asks.

  I wring my hands in my lap. “He did. But—”

  “Was he rude?” Laila asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Vulgar?”

  I shake my head again and press my lips together.

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “I can’t say.”

  Laila slams her clipboard onto her messy desk and stands up. “You are gonna wanna tell me about it, for if you don’t, you won’t have a job any more, you hear?”

  I cover my face with my hands and cry.

  Laila sits down next to me and places her hand on my knee. “Are you in trouble with the law?”

  I shake my head, sniffling.

  “You are not making sense, Scarlett. Please tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help?” Laila’s voice is soft like a prayer.

  I can’t tell her. I don’t know if I trust her enough to keep the information a secret. I stand up. “Then I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to quit,” I say. I don’t want it to end like this, because she has been really good to me and took me in when I desperately needed a job. But if she demands I tell her or demands I entertain Michael, I have to quit.

  “So that’s it?” Laila says, almost whispering.

  I nod. “I’m sorry. But I can’t tell you.” I stand up, open the door to the office and walk out.

  I’m quickly back at my booth and start throwing all my stuff in an empty cardboard box I found on the way over. Some of the girls are staring at me, but don’t dare approach. My eyes feel like swollen sausages, and I see in the mirror that my mascara is running down my cheeks.

  “Scarlett?” Anne returns from her performance.

  “I quit,” I say.

  “You can’t quit. You’re the star of The Black Chapel.” Anne grabs my elbow.

  “I can’t tell anyone what’s going on. I have to go.” I hug her. Can I call you later?”

  “Of course. And don’t worry. Everything’s going to be fine.” She forces a smile.

  I thank her, and then I’m off to my car.

  Heading home I see a text message from Michael. He sent it right before I got to work.

  I had a wonderful time with you today. I keep thinking of your silky smooth skin and you enthralling kisses. Looking forward to more of you, Michael

  Cheater, I think. I can’t believe I fell for this guy. Of course he’s a compulsive liar. I mean, look at the deal he proposed to me.

  Can we talk? Scarlett

  He doesn’t reply until I’m all the way back at my car.

  I’ll call you tonight. What time? Michael

  I’ll be home a little earlier than expected. Can you call me around ten?

  Absolutely. Is everything oka
y? Michael

  Super Duper! Scarlett

  I can’t tell him I know about the stripper AKA—me. I’m going to have to see this deal through like a professional. No more strings attached, no more games. I’m going to tell him that I changed my mind about being romantically involved with him and that we just need to see this deal through like professionals with a capital P.

  As I’m driving home, it’s hard to see the road. I can’t stop crying. My oh so smart plan is unraveling faster than I can keep up with. My shot with Mr. Perfect is now gone. I thought he might want the real me, especially after today. But he wants the stripper. The part of me that isn’t even real. The part of me I’m ashamed of. The part of me hate.

  17

  I just walk in the door to my parents’ house and Michael calls at exactly one minute to ten.

  “Hi, how are you?” He sounds nervous, which he should be considering he’s playing me for a fool.

  “Hi. I’m sorry I’m telling you this over the phone, but I think it is better this way. I’ve thought about our small hook-up today, and I think you were right when you said that we shouldn’t sleep together. I’m sorry I let it get so out of hand.” A lump starts to form in my throat, because I don’t actually want to reject him. But my lies have gotten out of hand, his lies have been exposed, and I feel like this is my last resort to keep the deal together.

  “Oh,” Michael says and then he grows silent.

  “So, moving forward, if we are to see each other, we should probably only see each other in public,” I say. I sit down on the stairs.

  “Okay. Was it something I said or did?”

  “No,” I lie. “It’s just I don’t think we share the same values.”

  “Like what?” He sounds completely taken off guard.

  Serves you right Mr. can’t-keep-my-dick-in-my-pants. “Like I don’t think we have enough trust in each other just yet to continue on like this. Relationships are built on trust, you know.”

  He sighs nervously. “I trust you,” he says.

  I’m floored. “Well, you shouldn’t,” I say. “So on Christmas Eve, I’ll come over for Christmas, and then I’ll…”