Until the Lightning Strikes: Happily Ever Alpha World

by Christensen, Elle

  3

  Rachel

  “Rosa,” I groaned as I put my head down on the cool surface of the table. “There is nothing out there. What am I going to do?” We’d met for lunch in the school food court, but I couldn’t seem to choke down my pizza.

  She sighed, and I could feel the tap of her fingers on the laminate. “Rachel, I need to tell you something.” She sounded nervous, so I lifted my head and stared at her. Rosa was the most confident woman I knew. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen her look unsure and fidget in the ten plus years I’d known her. She avoided my gaze for a minute, biting her lip. Then she straightened up and ran a hand through her short, dark curls. Her brown eyes held determination, and she cleared her throat.

  “You know my parents support me while I’m going to school.” I nodded. Rosa’s parents were awesome. Marie and Diego Sanchez had even helped to shield me from my parents and their life. When I was a kid, I’d often stayed at their house when my parents were either in the mean drunk territory, or they simply disappeared for days on end. I was like another daughter to them, and they had even offered to help with my education. But, I couldn’t let them do that. I needed to do this on my own.

  “Well, I felt guilty that they’ve been paying for absolutely everything. I wanted to prove that I could stand on my own two feet if I had to. So I was toying with the idea of getting a job when a friend of mine made a suggestion.” Rosa narrowed her eyes at me and pointed a long, beautifully manicured finger my way. “Hear me out before you flip your shit,” she demanded.

  I raised my brows, a little worried that she was going to tell me that she’s was selling her body, or drugs or something. But, I kept my mouth shut and nodded for her to continue.

  “You know the art program here is one of the best in the country.” She didn’t wait for my response before continuing. “Well, it turns out; they pay the models for their painting, drawing, and sculpting classes on the high end.”

  I frowned, not quite understanding. “I thought they only used nude models for the section on the human body.”

  Rosa cocked her head to the side but didn’t say anything. She just looked at me as though she was waiting for—“Holy cats!” I exclaimed when it hit me. “You’ve been posing naked?”

  Reaching across the table, Rose slapped her hand over my mouth. “Would you keep it down, Hermes? The Gods are gonna hear you, along with everyone else and I don’t need them up in my business.

  I swallowed hard, then nodded, and she took her hand away. “What the fudge, Rosa?” She glared at me. “It’s not like I’m being paid to have sex, Rachel,” she hissed. “It’s fucking art.” I flinched at her language, and her eyes softened. “Sorry.” My determination to be everything my parents were not included the language I used. I wasn’t one to swear because it reminded me too much of my parents. I associated those words with their yelling and drunken insults (hurled at me and each other). So profanity always seemed overly harsh to me and grated on my nerves. “But, seriously. There is nothing creepy about it. It’s almost clinical. They are looking at your body to learn the human form and translate it onto canvas, or mold it out of clay.”

  Her argument did make sense. And, while Rosa was still a virgin, like me, she was pretty uninhibited, so I supposed it shouldn’t have shocked me so much. It wasn’t like we hadn't read all the same dirty romances, but I imagined Rosa would be the one making use of that knowledge in the future, not me. “Why are you telling me this now?” I wondered aloud.

  Rosa clasped her hands on the table and leaned in as though imparting a vital secret. “Since the program here is so well-respected and well-funded, they pay their models at the top of the scale. And, if they like the model, they tend to use them frequently. It’s an easy job, right here on campus, and good money.” She watched me expectantly.

  I reared back when it suddenly hit me where she was going with this. “You can’t possibly be suggesting I become a nude model,” I gasped.

  “Why not?” she challenged. “You’ve got a fantastic body, Rach. And, even if you didn’t, they are always looking for different body types.” I opened my mouth, but she knew exactly what my next argument was going to be and steamrolled right over it. “It’s nothing like your mom, Rachel. She takes her clothes off to shake her ass in front of anyone high enough stick a dollar between her butt cheeks,” she sneered. “It’s one step above a disease-ridden whore-house.”

  My cheeks burned a little, and I stared down at my lap where I was twisting my fingers together. The truth was, I had considered turning to stripping a couple of times when things got desperate. Like they were now…

  “It’s also not the same thing you’ve considered in the past,” Rosa said gently, reading my mind. “Teasers is a very respectable place and my friend who worked there couldn’t say enough good things about the owners. Apparently, they really take care of the girls.” I lifted my gaze, and she met my eyes, making me feel better when they were free of judgment. “But, I know how much it bothers you, so I won’t bring it up again unless you ask, okay?”

  I nodded, relieved that the conversation was coming to an end. I should have known better. Rosa steered it right back to the modeling gig. “Seriously, Rach. It’s the only thing I can think of unless you’re willing to let my parents help you out.” I glared at her. “That’s what I thought,” she stated.

  My mind began to truly digest Rosa’s suggestion and while I didn’t want to admit it. I was coming to the same conclusion. Desperate times called for drastic measures, and Rosa was right, I didn’t see any better options.

  However, I wondered if—when the time came—I’d really be able to do it.

  * * *

  I stood in the small room that connected to the class where twenty students waited to paint my naked body. Pulling the sheet I’d been given tighter around my body, I tried to take a deep breath, but it seemed to be lodged in my chest.

  When Rosa had introduced me to, Dr. Leonard, the chair of the department, she’s mostly ignored me. With only a cursory sweep of my body, she announced, “You’ll do.” Then she went back to focusing on her computer, typing quickly. Rosa continued to wait silently, so I did too. After a minute, the printer on the table behind the professor came to life and spat out several pages. Dr. Leonard spun her chair around, snatched the papers, then reversed her position. “Here’s the contract,” she said briskly as she shoved it at me. “It’s an easy job. You’ll be given a sheet to cover with at the beginning and end of the class. You’ll be instructed when to enter the classroom. The professor will give you direction on your pose, but they will not touch you. Remain still. Don’t talk. Then leave when you are dismissed.” I nodded, following along even though she was speaking at warp speed. “Fill that out and leave it with my assistant. Your first class is this afternoon at four.” Once again, she turned to her computer, but this time, it seemed that she was dismissing us because Rosa gestured toward the door. Before I reached it, Dr. Leonard called out with one more instruction. “I forgot to mention; you are not allowed to have a physical relationship with any student in the class. It’s spelled out in the contract, but I always like to emphasize it.” I almost rolled my eyes.

  “Yeah, that definitely won't be a problem,” I drawled. “I’ve never even been on a date, much less got to any bases or home plate. I mean, it’s not like the opportunities weren’t there, it’s just that I never felt that thing. Whatever it is that makes a person want to, you know, get physical. It’s not that I don’t want to have sex, I mean the books make it seem—“ Rosa slapped a hand over my mouth.

  “She understands.” Dr. Leonard was staring at me with a speculative expression. I gave her a sheepish smile, and she turned back to her computer without comment. Rosa dragged me from the office before I could make an even bigger fool of myself.

  I spent the time until the class waffling back and forth even though I knew I couldn’t back out now. Rosa lectured me over and over about remembering that they weren’t looking at me in a s
exual way. This was their area of study, and I was a tool with which to learn.

  I finally exhaled and tried to give myself a mental pep talk. You can do this, Rachel. Stop being such a wimp.

  Part of me wanted to peek beyond the doorway and see just how many students there were, but it would probably just add to my anxiety. After another few minutes, the same friendly girl who’d initially met me in the room and given me the sheet, stuck in her head. She’d clearly seen how nervous I was and asked if it was my first time to which I’d only managed to nod. She’d winked and suggested I picture them all in their underwear to even the score. I couldn’t help but laugh, and it eased a little of my anxiety. “You ready?” she asked with an encouraging smile. It was time to pull up my big girl panties—figuratively, considering I was naked under the sheet. With a nod, I took a deep breath and followed her out into the classroom.

  4

  Liam

  I stood at the counter on the wall in the back of the room and finished washing my brush in the sink. The students in my Advanced Painting class filed in and took their seats at easels in a semi-circle around the platform in the center of the room. There was a torrential rainstorm outside, and some of them had obviously been forced to run through it for class because they were thoroughly drenched. “You might want to save the showers until after you get paint all over you,” I quipped, gaining a few chuckles.

  I set the brush down to dry next to the others I’d cleaned after each use, then grabbed a stack of hand towels that I kept in the cabinet. Paper towels were too rough on the hands when you were continually wiping paint or clay off of them. I made my way up onto the dais and tossed a towel to some of the more drenched students, earning smiles of thanks. When almost every seat was filled, I glanced at the clock to see it was right on time for class to start.

  “Okay, guys,” I began as I took a seat on the stool set up for the model. “We went through the Proportion of Figure & Various Styles of Figure Painting lecture yesterday. Your homework was to study figure painting by Michelangelo and review human proportion and anatomy.” I raised my brow and looked around. Most of the students nodded, though a few had guilt written on their faces. One, in particular, Dale, wouldn’t meet my gaze at all. I pulled a cheap plastic paintbrush from behind my ear and chucked it at him. He jumped, and his head flew up. The class sniggered.

  “I didn’t get to proportion and anatomy,” he hurried to explain. I simply watched him with steady eyes until he ducked his head again. “I had a date”—his face became earnest—“she’s hot as hell, man and I’ve been trying to get her to go out with me forever.” I wanted to smile at his enthusiasm over this girl but kept my expression neutral. After a second he blurted, “I promise to get caught up tonight.” I nodded.

  “Anyone else miss the proportion or anatomy sections?” I asked. A couple of other students lifted a hand, their faces flushing a little with embarrassment. I sighed and shook my head. “We are about to start a 9-section full figure painting”—I pointed to every guy in the room—“and the phrase ‘full figure’ doesn’t mean I don’t expect all proportions to be correct. I don’t what to know what your perverted minds see when you look at her.” The guys grinned, and a couple of the girls snickered.

  “Yeah,” a student named Connie, piped up. “Wipe the porn star filter from your eyes, guys.”

  I chuckled as I hopped down from the back of the platform, then turned to face the class. “Any questions?” A short, curvy girl named Merrin raised her hand, and I made my way over to her. She asked about a specific technique, and I started to answer when I saw Hillary Cramer, my temporary TA, wave at me from the door to the left of us.

  I asked her to fetch the model, then went back to discussing technique with Merrin. After a moment, I felt the air in the room electrify and crackle with static. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I swung my head around, my eyes landing on the doorway that led to a small storage room where the models changed. Time stopped, and electricity shot through my body like I’d been struck by lightning. Then a loud, thunderous rumble sounded in my ears before it exploded.

  Boom!

  There was a crackle outside as lightning lit up the sky, followed by another window-rattling boom of thunder. Still, I knew without a doubt, that it isn’t the storm that had caused it the first time. It was her.

  Clear blue eyes—filled with apprehension—stared right back at me and she shuffled nervously on her bare feet. She bit her plump bottom lip, drawing my attention away from her amazing blue eyes. I had an unexpected desire to be the one nibbling on that pink lip. Her features were classic except for her eyes, which were almost too big for her face, yet somehow made her even more beautiful. Her long, almost black hair hung in waves down her back with a part of it brought forward over her left shoulder. My eyes followed the path of the hair down to her breasts that were a little large for her slender frame. They were covered only by a paint-splattered, white sheet and almost spilled over the top on either side of the knot she clenched in one fist, holding the fabric up. She was fucking gorgeous.

  She walked over and stepped up onto the platform, then took a deep breath before dropping the sheet to the ground. I swallowed hard before all the breath in my lungs rushed out. Her body was absolute perfection. Fuck…those curves…my mouth watered. For a moment, I wondered if I’d been afflicted with the porn star filter too. I blinked a few times figuring my contacts would clear and I’d see what she really looked like. But when they refocused, she hadn’t changed. The girl had a body made for sin.

  Her eyes darted around nervously before coming back to me, and that’s the moment when I remembered we were not alone but were instead surrounded by a bunch of young, eager students. Too many of them were male, and I was shocked when I felt anger bubbling to the surface. Jealousy was a foreign emotion for me and yet I knew instantly that’s what it was. Even the eyes of the female students had a red haze coloring my vision.

  “Get out,” I growled. The woman’s eyes widened, and the clear blue darkened while her cheeks flushed red. She quickly grabbed up the sheet and spun around before dashing back into the other room, slamming the door behind her. “Fuck,” I groaned. I’d been talking to the students, but I could see why she thought my command had been directed at her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I muttered as I started for the door where she’d disappeared. I waved carelessly toward the students and called over my shoulder, “Class dismissed. We’ll pick up with this on Monday.” I didn’t wait to hear their response, too focused on getting to the model before she left.

  I sprinted into the room just as she was pulling a shirt on. Her head flew up at the sound of my approach, and she froze when she saw me. After a second, she snapped, “Do you mind?” She rushed to pull on a pair of black leggings, then grabbed some lacy shit from the bench on the wall and stuffed into a tote bag. “Look, I know I was going to model nude, but that doesn’t give you the right to assume you can get a peep show any time you want.” She kept her head down and focused on messing with the stuff in her bag. “I don’t know why you’d want to anyway. Clearly, you weren’t happy with my body.” I thought I heard her voice tremble but when she spoke again, her tone was steady, and I wondered if I’d imagined it. “Which is ridiculous. It’s a painting class, not art that’s going to be hung in the Louvre.” Finally finished digging through her things, she zipped the canvas tote and lifted the strap over her shoulder. Then she stood and faced me with a glare, planting her hands on her hips. I wanted to grin when she squared her shoulders and looked at me straight on, giving me attitude rather than timid acceptance. She was incredible when she was angry. But I didn’t think it would bode well for me to smile at that moment.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, desperate to know who this goddess was.

  She looked like she might not answer for a minute, but then she growled adorably.

  “Rachel Hill.”

  Rachel. Her name was just as sexy as the rest of her. “Rachel”—I loved the feel of
her name rolling off of my lips—“that had nothing to do with not liking your body.” I jerked my thumb in the direction of the classroom. She narrowed her eyes and raised a brow skeptically. “My reaction had everything to do with liking your gorgeous body too much.” She frowned in confusion. I sighed and took a few steps toward her, unable to contain my wicked smile when she took a step back each time. It was a short distance until she found herself pressed against the wall and caged between my arms when I propped a hand on either side of her head. “It pissed me the fuck off to have anyone seeing your naked body but me, baby.” I scowled and leaned close enough to feel her breath whispering across my lips. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not yours,” she said, attempting to sound firm but the breathless quality of her voice ruined the effect.

  I smiled tenderly and ran a finger over her silky cheek before tracing her soft lips. “That’s where you are wrong, baby. The second I felt you enter the room; you became mine.” Giving in to temptation, I plunged my hands into her hair and slanted my mouth over hers.

  5

  Rachel

  Holy guacamole!

  I was kissing Liam Bennet. The Liam Bennet. A famous artist, sexy as all get out, and apparently, a seriously talented kisser. He was quite a bit taller than me, and he’d bent down to kiss me, so the front of his hair had fallen down and was brushing against my forehead. My hands took on a life of their own, and my fingers plunged in, pushing it away from his face and then clutching it in my fists at the back of his head.

  My lips had parted in surprise, and he slanted his head before slipping his velvet tongue between them. He tasted like cinnamon, and something dark and smooth that I was sure was all his own. My knees buckled a little, and Liam obviously noticed because one of his hands slid behind me, pulling me deeper into him even as he pushed his hips forward, pressing my ass into the wall.