by Chloe Maddox
Dean was standing there looking as bad as she felt with his hair sticking up wildly, his tie askew, and his suit looking like it had been slept in.
Alexa turned around to leave. “Please, stay.”
The sound of his voice made her reluctantly turn around and face him. Madame Teresa nodded at both of them before she quietly left the room.
“You were gone when I got back.”
“The message was very clear, Mr. Withers. Our business was concluded. I saw no further reason to burden you any longer.” Her voice came out sounding stiff and cold. She hated it, but she had no other choice.
“Damn it, Lexie,” he swore under his breath and moved towards her in two strides. “I was scared, okay? Terrified, actually, of opening myself up to you, so I ran. I figured a few days would clear my head, and I would talk to you when I got back. But you were gone.”
Alexa shrugged.
“Please don’t shut me out. I’m sorry I hurt you, Lexie.” He reached up to caress her cheek. “I was so desperate not to have anyone leave me. I figured I’d go ahead and do it first. You deserve better than that. Please don’t give up on me.”
He dropped to his knees, clasped his hands together and begged her.
“Dean, please stop.”
He stood up. “I’ll make it up to you, please. I love you!”
Alexa stared at him. “What did you just say?”
Dean looked shocked before he regained his composure. “I love you, Alexa. I love everything about you, from the way that you mutter to yourself during movies, to the way you shove handfuls of popcorn into your mouth as soon as the movie starts. You are brave, smart, kind, and the most beautiful person I have ever held.”
Alexa continued to stare at him, hardly daring to believe her ears. “Dean, I—I love you too.”
His entire face lit up as he crushed her to him, running his hands over her body. “When I thought I lost you, it nearly destroyed me. I don’t ever want to feel that way again.” He began kissing her hair as Alexa laughed and held onto him.
In between their tears and laughter, they continued laughing until their lips met, and they sighed. Soon emotions were flaring and in the heat of passion he helped her push down her pants as she tore open his shirt, without a care that they were still in Madame Teresa's office.
Alexa kissed his chest and every inch of his face as he held her close to him. He began to run his hands over her stomach feverishly until at last he moved down to her center and plunged his fingers in. Alexa grinded against him as he placed pressure and buried his head in her hair. He added one more finger and quickened the pace. “Come for me, baby.”
That was all the encouragement that Alexa needed to topple over the edge. As she struggled to regain her breath, her hands moved down to open his zipper and she guided him into her as she pressed her lips to his. She wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her and held her by her ass, then he began to move inside of her, slowly as they maintained eye contact and whispered to each other throughout.
They came together and then stood panting, basking in the aftermath of their lovemaking, foreheads pressed together. After a moment Dean pulled back to place a kiss atop her head and a shiver raced the length of her spine. She buried her face in his chest, arms wrapped around him, and breathed a contented sigh.
“About that dress you were wearing the first night I met you.”
Alexa tilted her face to look at him. “What about it?”
“Do you think Madame Teresa would let you have it for good? I’ve got some pretty good ideas what to do with it.”
Alexa laughed as she pressed her lips to Dean’s for a sweet kiss.
THE END
Virgin Sunrise
Chapter 1
Laurel knew that it could be a lot worse.
She didn’t just know it, she understood it. She had felt it before; she had been there.
That’s why she thought that where she was now wasn’t so bad, all things considered.
At twenty-six, Laurel West could pinpoint the exact moment things had gone south, which was more than she could say for a lot of people. A lot of people weren’t lucky enough to be able to tell when things took a turn for the worse. They usually didn’t figure it out till much later; probably during their forties or fifties.
Laurel was one of the lucky few who picked it up early on.
It wasn’t exactly a blessing, though to be fair, it did help her out. It toughened her up quicker than she’d thought possible, and it taught her to look out for herself. Those were two things she definitely wouldn’t give up for the world. Even though sometimes, she missed what it felt like to be completely happy, and not feel like a prisoner of her own demons.
Laurel West was tall by many standards, curvy in all the right places with long brown hair, and eyes the color of emeralds. She had been told she was a beauty most of her life, but she didn’t think much of it until the day it landed her in the worst kind of prison. Or at least, that’s what she thought initially.
Laurel sighed as she dropped to the floor and began to take off her mud caked shoes. She knew she shouldn’t have been out so late, especially considering the fact thatearlier it looked like it might rain, but she hadn’t felt like heading back to La Boheme just yet.
She was now soaked to the bone with vomit on her blouse, and had raw knuckles from a bar brawl that should not have gotten so out of hand. She winced as she touched the tender parts of her hand to assess the damage. She didn’t think that she’d broken anything, but it definitely felt like she had sprained something. She’d have to ice it, then wrap it up once the swelling went down.
And all because of a guy who just couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
Laurel couldn’t understand why some men just couldn’t understand the concept of ‘no’. It seemed to baffle them to no end, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why. It was a simple two letter word that encompassed pretty much everything you would want to say. No excuses or justification necessary. That word alone should suffice.
Laurel shook out her hair, letting the pins fly all around as her brown hair tumbled in waves around her shoulders. She combed methodically with her fingers in order to calm herself, something she had been doing since she was a kid, and she began to feel the tension seep out of her body. She rubbed the soles of her feet as she stared up at the towering La Boheme.
La Boheme was the most famous establishment around these parts.
Not exactly the place anyone wanted to end up, but while you were here, you got to enjoy very specific and exotic tastes. It was inherited by a stout American woman who was able to make people quiet down merely by pinning them with her deathly glare. Julia Norbert was a formidable business woman; ruthless when it came to anyone opposing her, a worthy opponent on the battlefield, and unbeknownst to many, a very kind and maternal woman when it came to her girls. She always thought that, just because they were in this business, it didn’t mean that they shouldn’t be treated with respect and affection.
They catered to the needs of men with unusual tastes to be sure, but that meant that they actually held the winning cards. They just let men think that they were in control, but everyone was quite aware of who was really in charge.
La Boheme had been around for twenty plus years, but the building never showed it. All the previous owners made sure to revamp and renovate it every couple of years with improvements in plumbing, the paint, and state of the art security.
Julia Norbert was no different. The only thing that stayed the same was its name. Leftover from Julia’s ancestors who were French hippies, it quite suited the place with its somewhat medieval presence and its gothic looking gargoyles with their rose and flower crowns.
Laurel always thought that it was rather odd that it looked like something out of a Bram Stoker novel on the outside, whereas on the inside, it was quite different. The inside had a spacious living room with a small theater, and the girls all had com
fy rooms upstairs. There were very few rules at La Boheme, and mostly Julia was a fair boss; so long as everyone kept their noses clean, stayed out of trouble, and did their best to lure in the patrons with the hard bucks.
Laurel could hear the drizzle behind her, and she peered at it from over her shoulder, wondering how long it could possibly last, otherwise they’d never hear her from out here. She’d already tried pounding and yelling till her voice grew hoarse.
She brushed her hair behind her ears and leaned her back against the wall, cursing the fact that she’d forgotten her key card inside. She couldn’t seem to remember the password for the security lock either, and no matter how hard she searched her fog addled brain, nothing was coming up.
She squinted at the door and pursed her lips as she tried to concentrate really hard.
She shrugged as she drew her knees up to her chest, and rested her head there. Thunder cracked across the sky, lighting it up in shades of white and grey, and Laurel watched in amazement at the way it completely transformed the sky.
She looked left and right and decided she was lucky that she had remembered to grab a heavy jacket. She slipped off her vomit soaked shirt, crumbled it into a heap beside her and quickly slipped on the jacket, reveling in its warmth and smell of fresh detergent.
She peered at her watch and wondered how long she could possibly stay out here without catching a cold. She didn’t particularly care for that though, especially because tomorrow was a big night. They had one of the most renowned patrons coming in.
Her face scrunched up, and she sneezed. She cursed under her breath as she jumped to her feet. Black spots danced in her field of vision, and she leaned against the wall to try steadying herself and get a handle on things. She knew she had had too much to drink, but she didn’t think it was a big deal, considering it was her night off.
She pursed her lips in grim determination as she stared at the door, trying to jog her memory.
She took her bottom lip between her teeth and began to thoughtfully chew on it as she titled her head this way and that. She stood back and tried to visualize the door opening, or at least the number for the door, but try as she did, all that came out was blurry and fuzzy around the edges.
She brought up her foot and gingerly tested her weight against the door, noting that it didn’t even budge an inch. She narrowed her eyes as she squared her shoulders, cracked her neck and rammed herself against the door.
She swore as sparks of pain flew up and down her body, and her arm reached out to rub her sore elbow. She began to curse herself and bleakly looked around the street, wondering where she could find a warm place to rest her head for the night and get out of the rain.
Suddenly, an idea occurred to her.
She dashed towards the front lawn, and dropped to her knees as she quickly began searching the grass. If she could only find some pebbles.
She managed to find the pebbles a minute or so later, and by then she was absolutely drenched to the bone. Her clothes stuck to her body, and her shoes made a squelching sound as she stood there in the rain. Laurel’s eyes sought out a familiar window, and her eyes lit up when she realized she might’ve discovered her good friend Faith’s window.
She drew her hand back, blew on the pebbles for good luck, and tossed a handful at Faith’s window. She could feel the rain beat down her back, and she contemplated standing under the veranda for a while, but she was worried that if she did, she’d miss her window of opportunity, and Faith would see that there was nothing outside.
Laurel decided to try one more time, and if not, she’d just sleep on the porch.
She grabbed a handful more, and hurled them with all her might. She stared at the window, willing it open, and hoping that Faith chose that particular night to stay up later than usual and read.
Laurel’s head fell forward in dejection as she wondered what she was going to do next.
***
She heard a sound, and her head snapped up as she felt her heart soaring in her chest. A small head poked out the window and cursed as she realized it was raining.
“Who’s there?”
“Faith, it’s me. Open the bloody door. I’m freezing and I forgot my keys.”
“Laurel?” Faith’s blonde head poked out a lot more, and she frowned as she squinted her eyes and tried to make out where Laurel was. Her eyes widened in surprise as her eyes finally landed on Laurel, who was standing there looking like a wet rat.
“Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you try to wake somebody up sooner?”
“Well, I did, but nobody was answering. I’m pretty sure everyone is already fast asleep.”
“No, they aren’t. A lot of the girls are actually still awake.”
Laurel gave her a wry grin. “Faith, I’d love to stop and chat about the semantics and logistics of the whole situation, but right now, I’d rather come in where it’s warm, and after I get into some dry clothes, we can debate it from here till tomorrow, okay?”
Faith laughed. “Oh, shoot, of course. Wait, I’ll be right down.”
Laurel dashed towards the veranda and stood there trying to ring the water out of her hair. Her coat seemed to be relatively dry compared to the rest of her clothes, and that was because of the material. She wrapped it tighter around herself as she rubbed her hands and blew on them.
“Come on, Faith. What’s taking you so long?” she mumbled under her breath as she began to jump up and down to keep her body warm. The sound of locks and clicks let Laurel know that Faith had finally come.
“Finally!” Laurel dashed inside where the heater was already on.
“Jeez, dude. Come on. Let’s get you into some dry clothes.”
The girls hurried up the stairs and to their room where Laurel immediately stripped and reached for a heavy sweater and her sweatpants. She stuffed her feet into the biggest pair of woolen socks she could find, and she wrapped her hair in a towel to keep it from dripping.
“Thanks, Faith. I was soaking wet.”
She turned to find Faith smirking at her. Recognition dawned on Laurel’s face. “Wait, what? No, come on. Don’t let your mind go there. I didn’t mean it like that.”
Faith shrugged as a smile threatened to burst forth. “You’re the one who said it, not me. I didn’t even insinuate anything. All I needed to do was look at you, and that’s all.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t need to insinuate anything. I know you too well by now. It was all over your face.”
Faith thought about it for a moment. “That’s actually probably true, but still. You thought of it too, so you have a dirty mind as well.”
Laurel opened her mouth to protest then shot Faith a grin. “Well, I would disagree, but you’re probably right about that.”
“As I always am.”
Laurel snorted. “You are not always right.”
Faith shot her a look as she plopped onto the bed opposite her. “Name one time I wasn’t right.”
Laurel paused. “Well, I can’t think of anything right now, but I’m sure it’ll come to me,”
“Until it does, I rest my case. I am always right.”
Laurel plopped onto the bed next to her. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you right now.”
“El, what happened to your hand?”
Laurel reflexively glanced down at her hands forgetting for a moment about her bruised knuckles, and the swelling. Her priority had been to get dry, and she did that, so everything else had kind of taken on the backburner.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a fight.”
Faith stood up and walked over to the bathroom where Laurel could hear her running the water. She emerged a while later with a wet towel and an antiseptic. “You need to clean that, then keep the towel on. I’ll go get some ice and a bandage from the kitchen.”
Laurel began to clean the cuts, and Faith emerged a while later and helped her take care of her hand.
“Thanks buddy.”
Faith tossed
the towel in the laundry basket. “Sure. Do you want to tell me what that was about?”
Laurel flinched as she flexed her fingers before she wrapped her hand up. “This guy at the bar I went to. I was enjoying my drink and talking to some people that I had just met, and he just comes up and asks if he can buy me a drink. When I said no the first time, he walked away. When I said it a second time, he actually tried to grab me, and you know how I feel about abuse.”
Faith pattered her shoulder comfortingly. “I know, but it’s okay. You handled it.”
Laurel held up her hand as proof. “I sure did. I think he’ll think twice about trying to make a woman do something she doesn’t want to do.”
“Preach, El. I’m glad you’re okay though, but you haven’t answered my question. Not technically, anyways. Why did your hand get hurt?”
Laurel shrugged. “He and this other guy were being jackasses, and I just snapped and went for the nearest guy. He’s the guy who tried to lay his hands on me in the first place.”
“Looks like you socked him good, El.” There was a tone of admiration in Faith’s voice. Laurel shrugged as a smile played at the corner of her lips.
“Well, anyway, when I got back, I realized I forgot my key card inside, and I tried to call you guys, but nobody was answering, then I got the pebbles idea.”
“So you went all Romeo on me.”
Laurel waggled her eyebrows. “I had to get your attention somehow.”
“Be still my heart.” Faith playfully batted her eyelashes. “Whatever will I do?”
“Do all my chores for a week.”
Faith raised an eyebrow. “That’s your best shot? Really? Come on, put a little more backbone into it.”
“Well, I was trying to go easy on you.”
Faith laughed. “Oh, by the way, did you hear about the big news tomorrow?”
“The girls were talking about it before I left. We’re getting a world renowned patron, huh?”
“Yeah, apparently. His name is Colin Randall, and he’s a self-made billionaire, but word on the street is, he’s very hard to impress. We’ve got our work cut out for us. Julia is so going to bust our asses on this one.”
