by Amy Marie
"Prince Patrick!" Sylvia jumped off the bed, waving the remote around. "It makes sense now!"
He shook his head, trying to clear the confusion away. "I'm Patrick Everett. My parents are Mark and Andrea Everett and we have a family owned furniture business just outside of Raleigh. I was here for a bachelor party weekend with my two buddies."
Sylvia hit the mute button on the remote. "If you're some famous dude, why hasn't anyone filed a missing person's report?"
"Because—my name is Hairston Patrick Everett." He held up a hand when Sylvia looked like she wanted to comment. "Don't say it—now you know why I go by Patrick. Hairston is my mother's maiden name. My parents would have used my full name and the guys probably thought I left town."
Sylvia dropped back on the bed. "I can't believe you're famous. How did I not know this?"
"You said you don't watch television. There's no way you would know. I mean, unless you'd seen the billboards all over North Carolina or listened to any local radio station."
Sylvia chuckled. "You're a prince—ish. Who hates to sleep on uncomfortable beds. And I'm a peace officer. We're the Prince—ish and the Peace! You know, like The Princess and the Pea?"
He grinned and shook his head. "You're kinda crazy, you know that?"
She jumped back up and wrapped her arms around Patrick, resting her cheek against his chest, reveling in the simple contact. She'd been a lot lonelier than she'd ever thought. "I'm so glad your memory came back. Does that sound teenage girl with a crush on a celebrity—ish?"
"Very much so." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. "Know what else I remember?"
Sylvia tilted her head to look up at him, her green eyes shining. "What?"
"I'm not married and I definitely don't have a girlfriend."
"There's still the little issue of professional conduct and all that. I never should have let things progress last night at all."
He placed his hand on her shoulder and looked into those amazing pools of emerald where Sylvia hung her heart and then kissed her forehead lightly. "As soon as this case is wrapped up, we are going on a real date."
She nodded. "I'd definitely be on board with that. It's been a long time though, I might be out of practice."
"We will figure it out together."
Those green eyes lit up with a hint of excitement. "Do you remember where you live?"
He smiled. "I do. Downtown Raleigh, North Carolina. In fact, I should call my parents."
Her expression changed to one of concern. God, he loved watching the color in her eyes change. "You can't! Not yet. I don't want word to get out you remember anything. If someone is still after you, they will step up their game."
Patrick frowned. "I suppose you are right."
She squeezed his hand lightly. "Very soon."
He needed to speed the process up so they could stop being witness and Marshal. Now that he knew who he was, he wanted to get to know everything—and every inch of Sylvia Fairfax, the woman behind the badge. "I want to go back to that alley one more time. There's still some missing details and I think it would help to be there; trigger my brain some to fill in the blanks."
"Yeah, that would help, I bet." She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and dialed a number. "I just have to let my boss know your identity and that your memory is coming back. Then I'll arrange us a ride to the beach."
Patrick watched as Sylvia sent her texts and arranged them an Uber pick up. The seriousness of her job seemed so at odds with the way her eyes opened straight in to her soul. Sylvia felt everything very deeply, even if she appeared cool as a cucumber on the outside. That much he'd already learned about the woman that had slowly begun to take over his heart.
"Okay. The car should be here in five minutes. You ready to solve this case?" Sylvia's excitement made her cheeks pink and those amazing eyes sparkle.
Patrick stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in. "Let's do this."
Chapter 8
Sylvia sent a quick text to Mack, updating him on the progress they'd made since he'd left that morning. Even though he retired in less than a week, she knew her partner would be interested.
At least she'd thought so. When no reply came by the time the car pulled up to their destination, Sylvia dropped her phone in her pocket with the sound on so she'd hear it if he responded.
"You good?" Patrick sat beside her, fiddling with a thread at the hem of his shirt
"Yup." He opened the door and stepped out of the car. Sylvia followed him. She'd decided to let Patrick take the lead, to see if that helped his memory.
He walked over to the trash dumpster where they'd found him that night. A dark stain still colored the concrete.
"That was a lot of blood." Patrick pressed the toe of his shoe to the stain. "How did I ever survive that?"
"Scientifically, there may be several reasons. The bullet missed a major artery, for one. It was also really cold and the low temperatures could slow blood flow." Sylvia pointed to the ground where they'd found the other body. That had been a carotid artery shot, every pump of his heart had been deadly after the bullet pierced his neck. The killer knew what he was doing with that one. "Look at that stain. Now, that's a lot of blood."
Patrick shrugged. "I guess so."
"Do you remember anything new?" Sylvia didn't want to prod too much but the temperatures were dropping quickly.
"Actually, I do. As soon as we pulled up, I remembered why I'd come to Virginia Beach in the first place."
Sylvia rubbed her hands together to create a little warmth. "Really?"
He nodded. "My best friend from childhood is getting married this month. We were here for a bachelor's only weekend with his brother."
Sylvia narrowed her eyes as she considered this. "You said that earlier. But, you were alone."
"I know. I left the bar we'd been at because my friend is a pig and I didn't want to be a part of his games."
"Ah, cheated on the fiancée, did he?"
Patrick shrugged. "I assume so. I told them I had to make a call, walked out, and next thing I know I hear a man begging for his life. Said he wouldn't testify and that he'd escaped so he wouldn't have to."
"That's really good, Patrick. That helps us a lot."
"Do you smell that?" he asked, looking around.
Sylvia frowned and sniffed the air. "What is it? I don't smell anything."
"It's that same smelly cologne that the killer wore. I'd know that stink anywhere."
A soft click, as someone pulled back the hammer on a revolver, sounded behind them. At the same time Sylvia also recognized the heavy scent of a very familiar aftershave.
She spun to face the person aiming a gun at them. "Mack! What are you doing?"
Mack glared at them, a snarl of a smile twisting his lips. "Tying up some loose ends. Not sure why you didn't die the other night Prince Patrick but I'm here to rewrite the ending of the fairy tale."
"Mack!" Sylvia reached for the gun but Mack jerked his hand out of the way.
"Let me do this, Syl. I'll keep you out of it if you can just keep your mouth shut."
"I can't let you kill a witness!" She stepped between Mack and Patrick.
Mack waved the gun, motioning her to move but Sylvia stayed put. "I already have. If this numb nut hadn't shown up and tried to play hero, we'd have both been long gone from here and no one would have known."
"You're retiring in a few days! Why risk murdering our own witness?" Sylvia looked angry but Patrick saw the hurt dark in her eyes.
"You think my government retirement is gonna be enough? One good payoff from the Carisi family and Susan and I could live well in our golden years. I gotta think about my family. Now stop talking. Both of you face the wall and get down on your knees."
"Mack—"
"Shut up already, Fairfax, and just do as you're told for once in your ridiculous life!" Mack poked her shoulder blade with the barrel of his revolver. "And you, prince boy, make sure you die this time."
&
nbsp; "Drop the gun, McCoy!"
"What?" Mack spun, the revolver still in his hand. "What are you doing here?"
Sylvia turned around to the self-satisfied smirk of Agent Wright of the FBI. She let out a long breath of air. "Right on time."
Wright motioned to a couple of guys to take Mack into custody. Her former partner set the revolver on the ground and lifted his hands.
Patrick looked from her to the men and back again. "I don't get it. How did they end up here?"
"I texted him and asked him to meet us here. I thought he might be helpful if you hit a mental block."
Patrick wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. "Do you have any idea how amazing you are?"
Sylvia shrugged. "Kinda. But you can tell me anytime you want."
"What if I show you?" He leaned in and Sylvia met him halfway, pressing her lips to his.
"All right, you two. We're still technically on the clock." Agent Wright tapped an imaginary watch on his wrist. "We need to let the locals know and get everyone together for a big debriefing. Statements from everyone!" Wright laughed. "I'll take this guy. You two catch a ride with one of my agents. Patrick has to give a statement about what happened that night. I assume your memory has returned?"
Patrick nodded. "One hundred percent and counting."
"Excellent! Let's get this show on the road then."
He hung up the receiver of the phone he'd been directed to, replacing it in the cradle, his mother's joy still fresh in his ears.
"Everything okay?" Sylvia asked.
He smiled, wanting desperately to take her in his arms. "Yeah. It is now. When Derek and Devin had returned to Raleigh without me, my parents filed a missing person's report with the Virginia Beach Police Department. Except they used my first name, Hairston, instead of Patrick, my middle name and the one I use. Just like I thought."
Sylvia nodded. "No wonder we couldn't find anything."
"Mom is making me all my favorite foods tomorrow for dinner. She wanted me to come straight home tonight but I told her I wanted a goodnight's rest before the long drive. You know, my banged-up head and all." He tapped his temple with the finger of his uninjured arm. "Plus, the room at the inn is already paid for—"
A wide smiled spread across Sylvia's lips as her eyes gleamed with humor. "And you thought you might want to try out yet another mattress that isn't going to be good enough?"
"Oh, it will be good enough." He winked. "I won't even notice if its lumpy, I promise."
"I thought you wanted to go on a real date, get to know each other?" Sylvia pouted. "I'm not interested in a one night stand."
Patrick glanced around the room then bent to whisper in her ear. "You don’t have to worry about that. One night will never be enough."
He watched, with a pleased smile, the deep flush that filled her fair skin. She batted her eye lashes at him. "Why, Prince Patrick, are you looking for a happy ending to this story?"
"Isn't that how it's supposed to go? The prince falls in love and they live happily ever after in a castle?"
She stepped in close, running her fingertips over the fabric of his shirt. "Do you have a castle?"
He leaned in and nibbled her earlobe lightly. "More like a fifth floor condo but it has a balcony, does that count?"
Sylvia reached behind her and opened a door to a supply closet. Stepping back, she pulled him with her. Once the door closed, she pressed her body against his until he leaned against the door. "I think it counts just fine." Sliding her hands up over his chest, careful to avoid his bandages, Sylvia looked up at him. Even in the dark, her green eyes glowed, like a cat's eyes.
Pressing a line of kisses from her temple to the corner of her mouth, Patrick parted his lips and whispered. "Is it time for the prince to kiss his princess?"
Instead of answering, she stood up on tiptoe and kissed him. The moment her lips touched his, Patrick knew he'd found his happily ever after.
Part Five
Temptation Tower by Cee Marie
A Modern Day Retelling of Rapunzel
Chapter 1
Body Say - Demi Lovato
The lights and music make for a heady mix of sex and seduction, setting the tone at Inhibitions Gentlemen’s Club, an elite club within Temptation Tower on the Vegas strip. The tower in which I reside. The same tower I’ve never experienced beyond my penthouse walls.
Tonight, I step out of my comfort zone. Tonight, I claim my freedom. Tonight is all about firsts.
The dancer ahead of me is finishing up her set. I’m a bundle of nerves. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. I’ve been dancing for over a decade, professionally trained but never given the opportunity to perform. Never allowed to perform. It’s always been a dream of mine. Music and dance are my passion.
My long blonde locks have been pinned up and I’m donning a sexy, short black wig, cut into a sharp bob with blunt bangs. My eyes are a unique shade of lavender. My best friend, Raquel, did my makeup and my eyes are dark and smoky, making my eyes pop.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror backstage as I reapply my bold red lipstick. I’m dressed in a black leather panty and bra set that fits my body like a glove. My legs are long and lean from years of dancing, set off by sexy black stilettos. My waist is small and flairs into my shapely hips. The bra makes my breasts look amazing.
I feel so sexy in the outfit Raquel chose for me. It is completely modest in comparison to what the other dancers are wearing. Today is about claiming my independence and my will to break free. This wouldn’t be possible if I didn’t have Raquel by my side, encouraging me every step of the way.
Ginger exits the stage and squeezes my hand, “Knock em dead, Z.” She must see the uncertainty on my face as she walks past me with a smile. She is an absolutely stunning red head with emerald green eyes.
The DJ does an amazing job with the audience in between sets but I’m suddenly scared. I’ve never been allowed out of my penthouse suite, let alone danced for anyone. I shake my arms and hands when the DJ says, “Next up, you guys... An incredibly beautiful newcomer. This is her first night performing and we can’t wait to see what she brings to the stage. Please Welcome, Z.”
At the first sensual beats of Body Say, I saunter across the stage. I’m relaxed once the music starts, lost in another world. The lyrics are sexy and sultry, and my body immediately responds. As I reach over my head for the pole behind me, I lock eyes with the most mysteriously sexy man I’ve ever seen, not that I’ve seen many in real life. I can’t take my eyes off him as I shimmy down the pole. Demi Lovato belts, “You can touch me with slow hands,” and I begin singing the words as I dance for the man. He’s sitting by himself in a booth, sipping scotch. He’s dressed in a solid back button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. There’s ink on both of his arms from what I can see. His hair is dark and thick, just long enough to run your fingers through and tug. He has the perfect amount of facial hair. Everything about him is dark and intriguing.
The tempo of the music changes, “If I had it my way, I’d take the lead. If I had it my way, I’d take you deep.” My breath hitches when the sexy stranger adjusts himself with no concern for who’s watching. The moment is so erotic, completely different from who I really am. I brush my breasts as the lyrics continue and feel like I could orgasm right here on stage. When Raquel set up this opportunity for me, it was with the understanding I would not disrobe. I finish the song writhing on the floor, touching myself and singing, “If my body told the truth, baby I would do just what I want to”. My panties are drenched and every inch of me aches for him. And here, in front of this man and these strangers, I bring myself to orgasm while I watch him rub his cock through his black slacks.
“Holy fuck,” I whisper under my breath. The music stops and the audience completely loses their shit, cheering and shouting. I’m deafened by the thunderous applause and shrill wolf whistles—and it blows my fucking mind. I stand and take a bow, like the confident woman I’m projecting instead of the in
trovert most know me to be. If these people only knew. I look back out to find that my sexy mystery man has left. Disappointment washes through me and I walk over to Raquel, who talks to me so quickly I have no idea what she’s saying, but I walk right into her open arms and begin to silently sob.
“Why are you crying?” Raquel asks as I slowly wipe away my tears. The confidence I exuded on stage quickly fades. I can still hear the audience applauding and shouting “Z” over and over and become overcome with emotion.
“You were amazing, Z. This crowd absolutely loves you. You were confident up there. The way you moved. The emotion. And that complete eye fuck from the sexy guy in the booth,” she says with a laugh. “You totally stepped out of your comfort zone, it was flawless! You were real and raw, and I couldn’t be more proud of you,”
A few dancers come up and praise my performance. Ginger is one of them. “The first time is always the most emotional. You did great and I hope you return. The crowd loves you,” she grabs my arm. Another dancer shouts, “Did you see the guy in the booth? Damn, he was sexy as fuck.” Ginger nods, “You made love on that stage and it was hot as fuck.” That last comment finally makes me smile. As I thank everyone who approaches me, I notice the clock—it’s almost one in the morning.
Chapter 2
True Colors - Cindy Lauper
“Oh shit, Raq. We need to go.” I quickly slip into my jeans. I shrug into Raquel’s leather jacket as we make our way back to my suite.
My nerves are beginning to get the best of me as we ride the private elevator to the penthouse. Raquel has a friend who was able to override the hotel’s security system to help me escape for a couple of hours. He also was able to freeze all the security cameras. I need to get back before mother notices they’ve been tampered with or there will be hell to pay.
