“What do you mean you can’t make a Sex on the Beach?” A white woman with a curled lip leaned across the counter and into Nikita’s face. “How old are you? Twelve?”
“I can make it.” Relief flooded Nikita’s eyes as Jalisa started mixing together ingredients.
“Where were you? I was getting scared.” Nikita grabbed onto Jalisa’s shirt. “Is this blood? Should I call the cops?”
“No, baby.” Jalisa turned down the music and waited for the screams of protest to die out before shouting, “We are only serving beer for the next hour!”
“You’re going to be gone for an hour?” Nikita held onto Jalisa’s shirt like a comfort blanket.
“I need to take care of something. I’ll tell you all about it when we go to sleep tonight.” Jalisa gave her sister a tight hug before dashing off to the bathroom.
Throwing open the door, she almost ran into Erik. He was washing the wound on his face with a wet paper towel. The mark across his face was angry and red, puffing up in a threat to scar. He sat on the downed lid of the toilet while Jalisa hunted under the sink counter. Way in the back, a first aid kit with a yellowing label sat. She pulled it out and turned it over in her hands a few times. A thin layer of dust had collected all around it.
“This thing is ancient. Are you sure you don’t just want me to take you to the hospital?” she asked.
“Band-Aids don’t exactly expire.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Peroxide should be in there, too.”
She collected the peroxide from the cabinet and a couple towels from the bar while he removed his shirt. The light blue blood-stained fabric was tossed into the corner of the room. Jalisa tried not to ogle him. It wasn’t right; the man was injured. Still, her eyes wandered over to his upper body.
He wasn’t as muscular as Stone, but he did have some definition. His abs hid while he was sitting forward, but when he stretched up to grab a towel from her, they peeked out. His shoulders were broad with a few freckles. A soft dusting of body hair trailed from his navel and disappeared under his pants. A tattoo of a Russian word sat just underneath his left collarbone.
Jalisa took the towel he was applying pressure with and spread it out on the floor to catch the peroxide. She pre-opened all of the gauze, tape, bandages, and ointment she would use and sat them on the sink counter. Almost dropping the peroxide when she caught him staring at her, she gently stretched his arm out.
“Um...this is going to hurt. I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay.” He leaned toward her, close enough for her to smell his woodsy cologne. “I’m tough. Didn’t you see the fight?”
“I did,” she admitted. “But you’re still human, and you still feel pain.”
“Go ahead,” he whispered.
She tipped the bottle and poured hydrogen peroxide all over his cut. His sharp intake of breath was proof that it did hurt. Bubbles fizzed around the cut, and pink tinted runoff dripped down to the towel. After repeating the process a few times, cold peroxide soaked into the knees of her jeans.
“You okay?” she asked before putting the cap back on the bottle.
“Doing fine.” The words were forced through gritted teeth.
“Liar.” The tension was broken with their shared laughter.
“While I’ve got you here, I want to thank you for beating Stone up. I’m not nearly strong enough to do it myself, and he really deserved it.” She quickly followed it up with, “Not that I condone violence, and I’m sure that if it had been left unsettled, God would have fixed it, but it is still nice to see a horrible man get what is coming to him.”
“If you feel that way then I guess you must have heard most of the conversation.” He pressed his lips into a thin line.
“When I got there, no one was bleeding,” she commented quietly. “I know about Marie bringing us here to make us into prostitutes.”
“It won’t happen,” Erik vowed. His eye held hers, truth swimming in their blue depths.
The two were quiet for a moment as Jalisa debated whether or not he was trustworthy. She thought things over while she inspected his wound. It wasn’t really that deep, but it was in a dangerous area: right on the forearm, in the meaty part that bleeds heavily. A few inches up and Stone would have accidently slit Erik’s wrist. She closed his wound with butterfly bandages.
“Did you really mean what you said? I have two weeks to build a life before Stone puts me in a stranger’s bed?” Her voice was as soft as her touches on his injuries.
“I did.”
“How can you be so sure? Why do you care in the first place?” She tapped a square of gauze over the butterfly bandages to soak up the blood.
“I know Stone. We go way back. I know how he typically works, and therefore I can predict his actions. As for why I care in the first place, well, I think anyone would care for such an amazing girl.” He tilted his head like a dog and brown hair spilled across his forehead. Jalisa reached up without thinking about it and brushed it back into place.
“Sorry.” Her cheeks burned in embarrassment as her brain caught up to her actions.
“It’s okay.” His non-injured hand came up and tucked one of her twists behind her ear. “Now we’re even.”
It was almost an accident. The two leaned closer and closer until it just happened. A rose petal of a kiss. Soft and gentle with a hint of love. A caressing of lips that promised so much more to come. It was over in a moment, but the feeling lingered.
“I’ve wanted to do that since I first saw you,” he murmured against her lips.
“I don’t believe in love at first sight.” She ducked her eyes down and tried to focus on anything else. Taping some gauze down, she rolled more over top of her previous work to protect it.
“Then allow me to take you on a date.” He pulled his arm back when she was finished.
“Where would you take me? I’d love to see more of Los Angeles.” Jalisa picked up his shirt from the corner and handed it to him, trying to create a distraction.
“I know just the place. How about next Monday?” He tugged the shirt on, blood and all.
“I’ll think about it.” She didn’t to commit to anything because of the change in her situation. No longer could she sleep soundly at night knowing that Stone was prowling around and plotting to use her body for financial gain.
Jalisa slipped out of the room without giving him a sure answer. Due to the lack of cocktails, the bar’s population had thinned out substantially. Marie was back and lounging behind the bar, popping some bubble gum in her mouth. Nikita was slumped over the bar, her lips moving quickly. Her older sister recognized the sight of her in prayer and tapped her gently on the shoulder.
“I was so worried.” Nikita embraced her sister. “Please explain what’s going on.”
“What is going on?” Marie poked her nose in. Jalisa noticed that her blood had been cleaned up and the only trace of the altercation was a few pink children’s band-aids decorating her limbs. “Please, explain, Jalisa.”
“Nothing.” Jalisa faked a smile. “I’m just having a bad stomachache. I think it might be stress. How do you deal with it?”
“Certainly not by putting a fourteen-year-old in charge of the bar.” Marie let a bit of her real personality slip before returning to her facade. “Sorry, I'm stressed, too. I mostly deal with it by shopping. Nothing like a little retail therapy! And alcohol. Lots of alcohol.”
“That doesn't explain the blood on your shirt,” Nikita pointed out. Jalisa’s gray sweater had a few splotches of blood on the side from where she must have grazed Erik’s arm.
“Oh, that?” Jalisa batted her eyelashes at Marie to look innocent. “Grenadine syrup. I spilled it on myself. I think that might have actually contributed to the stress. I just felt so bad since you had just bought this for me. And it's so cute.”
“It is so super cute.” Marie lit up as Jalisa began to speak her language.
Chapter 5
“This is a pretty long way to go just for a date.” Ja
lisa felt underdressed compared to him, and that made her worry about where they were going.
Erik was in his usual tailored suit and dark colored tie. Jalisa, thinking they would just head over to a local restaurant, was in a red sweater with a white collar, a pair of dark wash jeans, and some tall black boots. Marie had let her borrow some makeup, but since she was white and very girly, none of it quite fit Jalisa. In the end, Jalisa settled on some light blush and dark eyeliner.
“You said you wanted to see Los Angeles, so we’re going to see Los Angeles. I’m taking you to what I consider to be the best little hidden jewel of Los Angeles.” He reached one long arm out and turned down the radio.
Despite all of his suits, his car was very unassuming. It was a simple black four-door, probably a couple of years old. The inside was meticulously clean and smelled of fresh pine despite the lack of an air fresher. The city whipped around them, and occasionally he would point out a sight or two. When the car finally stopped, they were in front of a garden.
“Oh, you charmer.” Jalisa waved at him. “I bet you take all the girls here.”
“Only when they’re as pretty as you.” He reached over and took her hand, giving it one small kiss before sliding out. Jalisa was collecting her purse right as he opened the door. Helping her out, he planted another small kiss to her fingers. Jalisa could almost feel the princess crown atop her head; it was a very welcome change to be treated so well.
Since she had found out Stone and Marie’s true intentions, her days were filled with praying and tears. The night she had told Nikita what was happening was one of the worst in her life. The look on her little sister’s face was one she never wanted to see again for as long as she lived. The two girls had agreed to keep acting normal while Jalisa worked with Erik to make a plan.
It proved to be very difficult to feign normalcy. One of Jalisa’s biggest fears now was that Stone or Marie would pick up on the little changes in their behavior. Jalisa recoiled from Marie’s touches, and their conversations were strained. Nikita no longer smiled at Stone and refused to play video games with him. Jalisa had assured him that she was not mad at him, she only wanted to spend more time to herself so she could process the loss of her father better. It made Jalisa’s stomach churn to use her father in a lie, but it was in their own best interest.
When Jalisa received her first paycheck, she tucked it away in a pair of socks under the bed. Nikita counted it all up, and they had around a nine hundred dollars, six hundred after Jalisa bought groceries and paid the one bill she agreed to take on. Apartments in Los Angeles were expensive, and with Jalisa not wanting to be traced, they would first have to buy fake IDs and the papers to back them up. It would take at least three thousand before they could move out on their own, and even then, Jalisa would have to find a high-paying job and fast.
“You’re zoning out.” Erik stopped on the walkway to the garden. “I promise you everything will be okay. I’ll figure this out.”
“I know that you’re going to help us, but I still worry. Our lives – Nikita’s and mine, I mean - are changing so fast. I feel like I’m being thrown around on a roller coaster.”
“Just relax for today.” He smiled at her, bringing one hand up to caress her cheek with his thumb before kissing her. “We’re at the Exposition Rose Garden. Joy is in the air.”
He was right. The smell of roses graced her nose and sunshine touched the earth with a heavenly glow. The fall chill was banished in this place and no coats were in sight. Vendors selling sweets and lemonade were lined up on the concrete. If they were a normal couple with normal concerns, this would be a magical first date, but for Jalisa, being forced into sex work was haunting her in the back of her mind.
“I'm sorry. I promise that I'm trying to be present.” She walked hand-in-hand with him down the rows and rows of rose bushes. Other couples walked around, their smiling faces mirroring Jalisa and Erik’s.
They visited each of the vendors, sharing little snacks with each other. Erik got powdered sugar on his face, and Jalisa kissed it off. Excitement buzzed between them as the two grew closer. It was a thrill to learn more about each other. Erik seemed enthralled by minute details of Jalisa’s life.
“I like to cook,” Jalisa said. “I dream about moving to Paris. French cuisine is the crème de la crème. I’ve looked into it many times as a kid, but French is very hard to learn.”
“I was in France not too long ago,” he told her. “Not in Paris, but close to it. The country is beautiful. Most of the people who deal with tourists on a daily basis - shopkeepers, taxi drivers, waitresses, and the like - speak English. It’s only when you go into the small towns that finding someone who speaks English becomes a problem. Besides, English is much harder to learn than French.”
“Was it difficult for you to learn English?” she asked.
“Da. It took forever. I started studying when I was five, and I still couldn’t understand English television until I was a teenager.” He raised an eyebrow. “If I become your boyfriend, will you learn Russian?”
“I don’t know. Is it difficult?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
“Komu ty rasskazyvayesh.” He made a series of sounds that Jalisa had never heard before. “Ty takoy milyy, kogda ty v zameshatel'stve.”
“What?” She cocked her head to the side. “Please, translate.”
“I said, ‘You tell me.’ Then you looked so cute wrinkling your nose up in confusion that I said, ‘You are so cute when you are confused.’” He laughed. “Will you be learning Russian?”
“No, thank you.” Jalisa rested her arms around his neck. She rubbed her lips over his face, feeling the rough texture of his beard stubble. He peppered kisses around her face.
“I love my mother very much.” He kissed her on the nose. “She is my best friend.”
“Okay?” Jalisa’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
“My mother says that if I fall in love with a girl, I must tell her that and she will be mine.” His thick Russian accent tickled her ears. She couldn’t help but smile.
“Is she in Russia?” Jalisa asked.
“She is.” Erik stopped at a rose bush and gently brushed the petal with his finger tip.
“I bet you miss her.” Jalisa wanted to continue the conversation. “How old were you when you came to America?”
“I was around twenty-four or so. A young, stupid man. I thought I would find easy gold.” He shrugged. “Turns out you have to work hard for it, just like in Russia.”
“What do you do for work? I never see you working in the bar. You mostly just look at me with those puppy dog eyes.” Jalisa led him to a stone bench, and they sat.
“You noticed that, huh?” He chuckled before growing awkward. “I, uh, own businesses. Small stuff, really. It’s not interesting.”
Erik derailed the conversation away from his work and to Jalisa’s personal life. They spoke of where Jalisa grew up, her friends at school, Nikita’s softball team, and her father. It was all things that made her very homesick. Tears prickling in the corner of her eyes, she expressed how devastating it was to not have a home anymore.
“Things have been tough for you. I would like to make it better. Give me time. I would just hand you the money to go off on your own, but I’ve got a lot of business to take care of here. I’m in sort of a transitional period,” Erik promised her. “Before you ask, yes, I must be able to leave and start a new life with you. I would never send away such a chance to a happy life with a beautiful life.”
Jalisa started to cry at the emotions welling up inside of her. Erik was beginning to be her knight in shining armor, her light in the darkness. Was she falling for him too fast? Perhaps, but it felt good, and it felt right. Something in her connected with him in a way she had never connected to anyone else.
Erik pulled her close and wiped away her tears. The two exited the gardens as a soft twilight began to fall. Jalisa got back in her seat, slightly disappointed that the date would s
oon come to an end. Erik cleared his throat loudly to get her attention.
“I would like to invite you to my house for wine, but I do not have one. I am staying in a hotel because I have plans to fly to England soon.” He focused on the road and could not see the way she bit her lip. “The offer still stands, though. I promise it is a good hotel. You will have lots of room, and I will never force you into anything. We can order room service.”
“I don’t drink, but that sounds lovely,” Jalisa agreed.
The hotel was, indeed, excellent. He resided on the second-to-top floor in a room that could have been an apartment. The walls were cream and baby blue, with plush black carpeting. One king-sized bed full of goose down pillows and silk blankets sat in the middle. A wooden table with soft chairs was arranged next to the sliding glass door that lead out onto the balcony.
Jalisa ran a finger over the dark blue bedding. She could feel Erik’s presence behind her. Turning to him, a fever lit in her. Bold and certain, she brought his lips to hers. The air was filled with the sound of their soft kisses. Her fingers ran up his strong back and felt of his prickly undercut.
“Mmmmm,” he moaned, and her heartbeat raced. This gorgeous man was moaning from her kisses. The power and eroticism of it made her head spin.
Erik’s tongue snuck out his mouth and teased her lip, asking for permission to enter. Having little experience in men, she was unsure of what to expect but allowed him. The flavor of the sweet mint gum he chewed exploded in her mouth as their tongues danced.
Warm hands slipped under her sweater and slid up her taut stomach. He grabbed her hips and pawed at her curves. The tip of a finger dipped inside of her and then disappeared. Though the touch was only for a moment, goosebumps appeared on her arms. Her nipples pebbled and strained against her bra.
Her Russian Millionaire (BWWM Romance Book 1) Page 5
