by April Lust
No, I like the arrangement we have going. Keeping Lily as far from my world as possible, pretending we’re in love and preparing to spend a normal night in each other’s company.
Maybe later I’d take her to my place for a little more personal conversation. Our bodies sure had done a lot of talking last time.
That memory and her beautiful face staring up at me now make me smile.
“Are you going to let me in?” I tease. “Or is this as far as I get?”
Lily jumps at my questions, holding the door open and gesturing me through. She fumbles through an apology, her cheeks, throat and chest suffusing with her embarrassment. She’s radiant.
My gaze drags over her body.
Her plush curves fill out a strapless, uncomplicated black dress, the bottom of her flouncy skirt brushing above her knees. Her hair is down again, a clip dividing the top section from the bottom.
I see a necklace, the same silver heart-shaped pendant she wore earlier in the day when I had a front row seat to her bare tits. She’s wearing nude-colored stockings.
I see her toes curling at my head-to-feet survey. I follow her to the sofa in her living room.
She has a small place. Most of it, I realize, is within my sight from the center of the room. There’s her kitchen to my left and a small hall to the rooms to my right. Her flat-screen TV is a prize though.
Seeing where my attention has gone, Lily fetches the remote from the coffee table in front of me and hands it over. Then she grabs the gossip magazines spread out on the table and clutches them to her chest, mumbling, “I’ll be right back.”
I let her do her thing. I’m the one who’s early, so I guess I’ll have to be patient. Turning on the TV, I flip to the local news and then to the St. Louis news channel. It’s all vapid, so I find a sports channel I like and fall into a college basketball game.
“Local team?” Lily is back for a moment.
She’s wearing a flowery white sweater over her dress, the hem reaching her natural waistline. It’s parted open, and it sways with her quick movement behind the TV toward the direction of the kitchen.
She’s making a commotion in there, and then she returns, toting a perspiring glass for me.
“It’s strawberry and watermelon lemonade,” she says of the pink drink. Stepping back when I accept it from her, she waits on me like a proper, attentive hostess.
It’s certainly not my drink of choice—I’m more of a scotch kind of guy—but I take a sip anyway.
“But if you’d like something warm…?” Lily hugs her arms about her middle. She looks more troubled than she should, making me think this isn’t about the beverages she has on hand at all. “I have hot chocolate?”
Reaching out to rest the glass on the coffee table, I drag my hands over my knees and smile at her. “No, it’s fine.”
She nods, lingering to watch the game for a minute and then she excuses herself again.
My eyes track her naturally, gaze following her as she crosses the room to disappear down her short hall. I hear a door closing softly, and I should let my mind focus on the TV but I’m suddenly curious about my date.
I sensed her enthusiasm in my office when I asked her out. Most women are like that.
Only a lot of the ladies I’m with have agendas. Lily doesn’t.
She’s in this predicament, stuck on a date with me because she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and now she’s helping me right it by playing along with this alibi.
I couldn’t cross my T’s and dot my I’s without her cooperation. Sure, I gave her a little wiggle room by asking her out instead of commanding that we be together, but I was being a gentleman. I think. For fuck’s sake, I haven’t been on a real date in two years, and even then I wouldn’t have been considered chivalrous.
Those women with agendas I roll with? Well, they aren’t the type who care much about being wined and dined. They like it better when I suck and fuck them.
Lily is a simpler girl, and classy for it.
Bonus, I enjoyed fucking her once and I’m already fantasizing about our next romp, yet I also want to make sure she knows I’m putting effort into this too.
But I can see what she sees—I’m the guy holding all the cards and she’s thinking she has no play. Not entirely true.
After all, she has me asking her on a fucking date.
I admit to myself that I’m curious. How does a girl like her see me? How is she taking this, and how far will she let me go?
The evening is early, and I have plenty of time to explore my way to the answers to those questions. I wait out the final fifteen minutes to our date with impatience. I bite my tongue to keep from ordering her to hurry up.
Lily pops out five minutes to six, our initial meeting time. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she says quietly.
She has a clutch in her hands and her smile is now painted in a soft pink. Nervously, she nudges her chin at the television. “Did you want to finish the game?”
“Nope, I’m good.” I shoot off of the couch to punctuate a point—screw this, I’m done waiting.
Turning off the TV, I carry my half-full lemonade glass to her kitchen, barely taking in the space in my hurry to get back to Lily and get us on the road.
She slips on the black pumps from today. She doesn’t seem to have a large shoe collection or many coats in her closet. But I haven’t seen the dress Lily’s wearing, so it gets me wondering if it’s new. Hopefully she hasn’t gone out of her way for me. I’d take her in a paper bag, really. Naked would be even better.
Before my hard-on gets out of control, I lead her outside where Lily locks up her apartment and we head to the elevator.
Lily is silent until we’re in the elevator. I press for the ground floor when she speaks up.
“I never did ask, but why are we heading out so early?” She cranes her neck up at me. “Dinner was at seven thirty, right?”
Smoothing my hand down her back, I absorb her shudder and enjoy the play of desire warring with her curiosity, the mess of it flitting about her face. She’s a truly sensual little thing.
“It was going to be a surprise,” I drawl, “but we’re going to St. Louis for dinner tonight.”
“St. Louis?” Lily repeats, her head lowering at the opening elevator doors.
We walk out together, my hand at Lily’s back, and her heels galumphing over the tiles of the foyer and onto the carpet leading out through the front doors. There’s a lock protecting residents, but I managed to slip in earlier courtesy of another resident entering the building.
Of course it hardly mattered there being a lock if residents and their visitors let in anybody willy-nilly. It’s enough for me to wonder how safe the building is.
Lily draws me from my thoughts, her shivering alarming me.
“You’re cold,” I observe. Getting her bundled into my Lexus, I crank up the heat and fire up the seat warmers.
Lily springs up, her mouth forming a delicious circle. “That feels...nice.”
That draws a chuckle from me. My GPS is on from having used it to find Lily’s place, but I close it since now I know exactly where I’m headed. “Buckle up,” I tell her, changing gear and reversing the car out of the visitor’s parking.
I take the car zero to sixty pretty quickly, liking the smoothness this baby offers on the road. I invite Lily to play with the radio and choose her favorite station. She shies away from my offer and I’m a little irked.
Then she says, “I can get to know someone by their music choices.”
“Can you?” I glance her way, catching bits of her in the dark. It’s a little easier with the atmospheric, blue-white LED lights lining the cushions of our seats and the cup holder between us. “Fine, my music it is.”
I tap around on the screen fixed to my dash, finding my programmed playlists, meticulously organized by genre and alphabetized by artist. I find a favorite and watch for her reaction.
“You listen to country?” she asks, hand clappin
g out the beat to the song.
“I listen to everything, so long as I like it. My tastes are eclectic.” I grin at the sight of her smile.
The mood in the car is set, and it remains easygoing all the way into the city.
Chapter 8
Luke
St. Louis is on us before we know it, and I’m zipping the car through the streets, navigating the evening traffic. When we get to where I’m headed, I parallel park on the curb. I catch the passenger door as Lily is stepping out, closing it after her.
“I need to pay the meter and then I’m all yours.” I feed coins to the machine and fill it up for a good three hours. I plan to keep Lily with me for as long as possible. I can’t assume she’ll let me take her to my place, seeing as the first time was a fluke. A fucking lovely gift from fate, but a fluke nevertheless.
I don’t rely on randomness when I do business, and Lily is a loose knot in a business dealing gone wrong. She saw my little informant-turned-greedy traitor Derrick die, and though I’m sorry she was a witness, I haven’t shed a tear or lost a bit of sleep that I ordered a hit on that goddamn little rodent.
Not wanting to dwell on Derrick, or Russ and Keith’s mistake, I tuck my wallet into the inner pocket of my leather jacket and turn to Lily. We’re crossing the street together, my arm sliding around her waist so naturally even though I’m nearly a foot taller.
We make it work for us, and Lily isn’t shivering so much when clutched to my side. We hit the downtown, walking by stores, people watching, and chatting.
It may seem like we have no destination, but soon I draw us both to a stop.
“I thought we could work up an appetite by shopping,” I say, explaining why we’re stopping in this hole-in-the-wall boutique.
It’s on the pricey side. I should know; my kid half-sister owns the place.
“Luke,” she yelps, and I know she’s here, working tonight. She’s usually at work though. The workaholic gene runs in the family.
“Julie, hey,” I say.
I barely detach myself from Lily when Julie flies into my arms, screeching, “It really is you—you’re alive!”
If anybody else talked to me this way, I’d punch them. Okay, maybe I’d sit down and have a chat first before I used my fists.
“Seriously,” she lightly shoves out of our embrace, her hand smacking my chest. “Just who do you think you are, huh? No word from you for months.”
“I do call,” I tell her.
She settles her fists on her hips. “Doesn’t count. I need human contact, Luke. I need to see you like this, face-to-face, like family.” She sighs, shaking her head like I’m a lost cause. I might be, because she has a point. I haven’t been around to her upscale clothing boutique in, well, long enough that the last time eludes me.
But Julie being who she is, easy to let go, turns off the drama faucet and rounds on my guest—the main reason I stopped by.
“Who’s this?” Julie sizes up Lily, and then she grins. “Girlfriend?”
Lily grows flustered at that, looking to me to save face. I know what I want to say, so I say it.
“Yeah, this is Lily Erickson.”
Julie claps her hands together and legitimately bounces.
I cough through a laugh, turning away, a little embarrassed for myself.
Ignoring me, Julie introduces herself. “I’m this one’s sister; we share a father, and only half our genes, thankfully.”
“You don’t mean that.” I smile.
Julie makes a face at me, and then she winks at Lily. “So, Lily, tell me how my brother is treating you and for how long?”
Lily looks to me again. She’s doing that way too much, and Julie’s catching on. Before long she’ll suspect something fishy between Lily and me.
Nodding at her to go on and reply, I turn my back to them, reaching out to touch a dress that catches my eye. My ears are working, though, and they’re tuned on Lily’s response.
“We started dating only recently,” she tells Julie. It’s a good answer—just the right side of vague without inciting suspicion. I’m satisfied and proud. I’ll have to compliment Lily later.
“A fresh one,” Julie whistles. “Don’t scare her away then, Luke.” Leaning closer to Lily, she whispers loudly, “He puts on a scary face, but he’s a big, old softie inside.”
“I heard that,” I counter.
Julie snorts. “All right, introductions aside, I know you came in here for a reason. Out with it, Luke, what do you want me to do?”
“Actually, it’s Lily you’ll be helping out.” I hold out the dress that’s caught my eye, suddenly curious to see it on my date. Julie takes it out of my hand, her eagle-like gaze fixated on Lily, studying her subject. She gets like this when she’s in business mode.
Nodding, she turns to me. “Anything in particular, or do I clean out the shop?”
“Warm, fashionable outerwear,” I say, smiling at Lily’s wide eyes. “Impress me, sis.”
I don’t need to say anymore. Julie whisks Lily from my side, leaving me to wander the storefront while they explore the racks further back. She has a few coats on hand, but most need to be special ordered.
Julie leads Lily out to a three-sided mirror, helping her up onto the podium in front of it. She has Lily trying on a faux fur coat, but I shake my head on it.
“I hate to say it, but he’s right. You look like this gaudy thing is trying to swallow you,” Julie grumbles loudly. “I’ve been trying to sell this piece for months. It’s my Achilles heel, I tell you.”
As she switches coats, Lily’s giggling reaches my ears. Julie is cracking her usual jokes. Lily is wiping at her eyes, her mirth bringing her to tears. It’s a sound I’m quickly learning to enjoy.
It also puts me at ease. I’ve brought her to my sister, let her in on a piece of me this early on. I have a lot at stake.
This second coat is better. Julie is good at what she does, so I’ll let the fur-coat faux paus slip. My sister grins my way, her eyes knowingly moving between me and Lily. Lily is busy studying herself in the mirror, angling this way and that, clueless of my sneaking closer.
She startles at my touch on her arm.
“Do you like it?” I ask. My gaze tracks over her once she gives me a tentative nod.
The gray wool wraparound coat looks more like a dress. It has a form-fitting shape with ruffles lining the center front. Realizing what it’s missing, I say, “I’d like to see you in it with the other dress.”
Julie perks up at the idea of more dress-up. Lily follows her to the changing room in the back.
While Julie is busy with Lily, I notice the entry of more customers.
The three young women who walk in are dressed for a night out themselves, almost in uniform actually. Their long, black coats, bare legs, short skirts, and trendy heels are guy-magnets. After skimming a glance over them, I find my attention waning and eventually turn away.
But not before I catch all of them regarding me with interest. Then I hear them moving around through the store, drawing items from racks, discussing the merits of pairing this top with those bottoms.
I stay near the front mirror, waiting on Lily’s return. But because I’m facing the mirror, I catch the reflection of one of the women approaching. She’s walking with her shoulders back, tits forward. I know what she’s up to, and I’m ready to let her down.
Thankfully, Julie returns with Lily.
My sister arches a brow at her new patrons. Meanwhile, looking as beautiful as I imagined she’d be, Lily slows to a stop and shyly meets my roving stare. Julie has the wool coat in hand, so I’m free to admire my dress choice for my date.
Leaving me to Lily, Julie hands me the coat and steps in to greet her customer. By that point I’m swiveling to regard Lily fully.
“Cliché, I know, but I have to say it—you look stunning,” I tell her. I help her up to the podium, a little wary of those heels of hers. Finding her gaze in the mirror, I smile. Her lips tilt up, telling me she likes the woman she
sees as well. I add the finishing touch.
Smoothing the coat over her shoulders, I let my hands skim down to frame her waist. I tie the coat’s sash from behind, aware of Lily’s response to me. Her body tenses under my gentle hands. It only makes me want to hold her more, but we have an audience.
I murmur, “Go and change. I’ll be out here waiting for you.”
#
Julie has the young woman and her friends around the podium now, a cream-colored pant suit on debate. When she lingers to the side, letting the girl group mull over the outfit, I nudge my head to the changing rooms. “Could you wrap up that coat and dress privately?”
“Sure.” She brightens up, hopping to do as I ask.
Ringing up my sale quickly, she rounds the counter with the shopping bag, handing me the receipt. “Would you like me to distract her?”
“Could you?”
Julie grins. “Is that a challenge?” She puffs, waving me to the door. “You go on and let the professional do the work.” Then, grabbing a sleeveless floral-patterned blouse from the nearest rack, she marches in the direction of the changing room and leaves me assured she’ll have a good excuse for my absence.
With the shopping bag tucked in the trunk of my car, I’m back in time to catch Lily walking out with Julie. My sister pushes the blouse back on its rack, straightening it before joining us.
My arm slides around Lily’s waist, drawing her closer, as Julie watches on.
“You two lovebirds enjoy your evening. And Lily, you’re always welcome here.” She sees us off.
We walk from the boutique to the restaurant, La Sœur, the only place I know offering French-American cuisine in the city. I don’t need a reservation here, not when the owner is an acquaintance.
“Mr. Hanley.” The maître d’, a familiar face, steps around his podium with a warm smile and a firm handshake. “We’re in for a treat with your presence.”
