Lola

It’s three-thirty in the afternoon and I’m running out of the animal clinic. When Nick and Matt asked me if I’d like to transfer to Duality, I agreed since it’s closer to my house, although a bit farther from the clinic. Since today is orientation, I have to get there earlier, which is why I’m in such a rush.

Breathlessly, I finally get to the bus stop and plop down on the bench and exhale when a very familiar yellow Corvette stops right in front of me. Fox rolls down his window and motions for me to get in. I do.

We’ve been texting back and forth for the past couple weeks. He hasn’t asked me out again, which is disheartening but I know what a huge baggage it is to date me. I can’t blame the guy. But I can’t say it doesn’t hurt. Still, I don’t have many friends, so having him as a friend is better than not having him at all.

During the last few days he’s texted me a bunch of silly jokes. Yesterday he sent me a text asking if I was “reds or stripes,” referring to the local gangs from my bad neighborhood. To which I replied with a middle finger emoji.

The truth is, he’s not exactly what I expected him to be. He’s funny and sweet and thoughtful—he even offered to change the lightbulbs in my kitchen when I complained my landlord hadn’t done it and I couldn’t reach that high up.

“You said you weren’t sure if you’d make it on time today. So, I thought I’d pick you up.”

“That’s so nice of you, thank you, Fox,” I say as I fasten my seatbelt.

“After the meeting we have about four hours to kill. Maybe we can grab something to eat and then you can change at my house and I’ll drive you back with me. What do you think?”

Today is the soft opening of Duality. The invitation list looks more like a huge private party, but still it’s a big night and there’s even supposed to be some press coming. I was going to stick close to the club, grab something quick from a fast-food place, then change in the locker room at Duality. Fox is offering a meal and a shower.

It’s a no-brainer. “That sounds heavenly.”

“Great.”

And it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s still at the curb, his body rotated toward me so that I can see his lips, which is so unbelievably thoughtful. He changes shifts and we roar off to Duality. I’ve seen all the ads around town but this is the first time I’ve seen the club. Honestly, I’m not impressed. It looks like a warehouse in the middle of downtown Miami. I look at him and shrug. “Wait until you see the inside.” He parks his car and we head into the club.

“Just a warning. In there, I’m one of your bosses. You can’t try to attack me. No sexual advances, okay?”

I stare at him, my mouth wide open and then we both start laughing. I hate laughing because I know I sound like some sort of seal. My tone and my volume are probably embarrassing him right now so I take a breath and swipe the tears under my eyes. “I’ll try not to throw myself at you.”

“I’m sure it’ll be hard. But I have faith in you.”

The new staff, some from Panic and some brand-new, are all sitting around waiting. Fox heads straight to Nick and Matt and two other men at the front of the large room. They shake hands and pat one another’s backs while I go sit with a few other members of the Panic staff. A couple of colleagues smile and wave at me; I shyly wave back. I know everyone just assumes I’m really shy so they tolerate my standoffishness.

Or…maybe they talk about me behind my back.

I see everyone’s heads snap to the front, so I do the same. Nick is clapping in order to get everyone’s attention. I’m sitting a bit too far off to see exactly what Nick is saying, so I have to squint.

That’s when Fox interrupts Nick.

“I don’t think the folks in the back can hear you.” He grabs a few barstools and moves them around. Then he pointedly crooks his finger at me to sit at one, which happens to be so close to Nick, it’s just awkward. I try not to narrow my eyes at Fox when I have to move the seat a bit back. A few others, who were probably just fine where they were sitting, are also moved to the front, and then Nick starts again. It’s nice that Fox is trying to help, but it’s not what I need. I’ve been taking care of myself just fine my whole life, I don’t need him coming in and moving things around to accommodate me. Plus, he’s drawing attention to me, and I like to blend in. I’m not like him. I mean, hiring an interpreter would have been less obvious. He might like the limelight but I like the shadows.

Nick explains the concept of Duality, which I’m familiar with since Fox told me about it. The top floor is basically a risqué semi-nude nightclub and the bottom is similar to Panic. Then Matt says a few welcoming words and we’re introduced to David, one of the co-owners. I’ve seen David at Panic before and I know he’s very good friends with Matt and Nick. The rumor is that he and his wife just recently moved to the States from France. I don’t know the entire story but he seems nice and, according to Matt’s speech, David will be taking the reins at Duality together with Fox.

When it’s Fox’s turn to say a few words, I realize how commanding he is. It’s not just his large frame, it’s everything about him. I bet he has a loud baritone voice. Since I did hear for seventeen years of my life, I do remember sounds. I miss it so much and I often wonder if it’s worse to be able to hear only to have it ripped away. Maybe it would’ve been better to have been born deaf and oblivious to the sounds people take for granted every day like that annoying drip from the faucet or waves crashing or the cooing of a newborn baby. In this case, Fox’s voice. Oh, how I wish I knew the sound of his voice.

I can tell that his speech is assertive but friendly by his mannerisms and the way his mouth moves and his body shifts. My favorite part, though, is when he offers up that intoxicating smile—I think it’s what ultimately draws people to him. Even with his bulky arms crossed and his legs spread apart in that “bouncer” stance, he seems at ease because of that smile.

This is a casual meeting but Fox doesn’t do casual like the rest of humanity—at least in terms of his attire. He exudes cool at all times. Today he’s wearing a navy blue lumberjack-looking shirt with suede patches on the elbows, which is almost nerdy but not on him. The sleeves are rolled up and he left three buttons open, so not only are his tattoos visible, but so is his silver chest chair. It’s not an overbearing amount but enough that it makes me curious to see the rest. He’s paired the shirt with dark jeans and leather shoes that match those nerdy-yet-sexy-looking suede patches on the elbows of the shirt. His beard is trimmed and his hair is slicked back, short on the sides and longer on top.

God, he’s sexy in a man’s man sort of way. Then I realize I’ve been caught staring when the girl next to me pokes me in my ribs with her elbow and wags her eyebrows up and down. I’m sure she said something but I didn’t catch it.

I’m biting my nails by the time they introduce Iggy. I hope no one else caught me staring at Fox. How embarrassing.

Iggy, I haven’t met before. But it seems only good-looking men can manage and/or own nightclubs because this Iggy guy is hot too. Not in the same way Fox is hot, though. Apparently, Iggy is a silent partner and won’t be around much, but they wanted us to meet him, just in case we happen to see him around. After that they talk about the uniforms, the registers and all the boring human resource matters. Finally, we go on a tour of the enormous nightclub.

I was wrong about this warehouse. Very, very wrong.

This place is not only double the size of Panic, it is beautiful and elegant and opulent in a different sort of way than Panic. There are modern touches combined with that Miami glam and I can’t wait to see it at night with all the lights on. There’s no way this place isn’t going to be a hit. Everything is over-the-top and top of the line. Nothing was spared, from the elaborate chandeliers to the funky-looking mirrors in the bathrooms.

The first floor, where we had the meeting, the one that they call the “vanilla” floor is entirely white, but not like Fox’s house. Not boring white. Glitzy, gaudy white. White marble floors, white quartz bar tops, even all the art on the wall is white. When I’m in the dark with the strobe lights on, the vibe will be different, but right now it’s just a lot of white. The top floor is the opposite. It’s all dark and smoky looking with black furniture and some hints of gray. Even the crystals hanging off the chandeliers look like huge shiny onyx gems cascading down. It’s decadent.

It’s Duality.

Once the meeting is over and the staff starts to exit, Fox signals for me to give him five minutes as he talks a bit longer with the owners. When he’s done, we walk together to his car.

“Whatcha think?” he asks once we’re in the car.

“Wow.” Because there are really no other words to describe Duality.

“Told you. It’s going to be amazing. I can’t wait to see this grow.”

I smile at his excitement. “Matt and Nick are great—plus they’re really loyal. If you do well, I bet they’ll promote you or take you with them to their next location.”

“That’s what I’m hoping. I want this, Lola. This is what I’m meant to be doing, right?”

“Are you asking me or are you telling me?” I laugh but there’s something in the way he’s just said that, as if he’s actually seeking validation. It’s sincere and genuine and makes me realize that maybe he’s not as self-confident and cocky as I initially thought.

“No, I’m telling you.” He smiles but it’s not a smile I’ve seen before. The man with the thousand smiles, I think to myself. This one is vulnerable-looking. Not as uninhibited as my favorite smile, instead it’s softer and his eyes are wide as if he’s expecting something from me. An argument, maybe? Or for me to disagree? I’m not quite sure, but he continues. “I think this is it. I’m psyched about this opportunity.”

“That’s awesome, Fox. You looked like you belonged up there with the rest of the guys today. If anyone can do it, I’m sure you can. You’re always at the club, they must see how dedicated you are.”

“I hope so, but speaking of the rest of the guys…were you checking me out?” He turns around and starts up the car with a little knowing smirk.

“No. I was glaring at you for moving all the chairs around and then having me sit dead center in front of the room.”

“I was trying to help. I’m sure you couldn’t read his lips from where you were.”

“I was fine where I was.”

“You were squinting.”

“Oh my God. You are crazy, you know that? I was not squinting. I’ve been reading people’s lips and doing just fine, thank you very much, for seven years.”

“But wasn’t it better where I sat you?”

Arg!

He looks at me with genuine confusion.

“We go on one date, if it was even a date, and now you’re moving things around for me.” I’m actually getting truly upset now.

“Wait? You’re mad? For real, you’re upset? I helped you out and you’re mad?” His face is stone. I haven’t seen this side of him before. It’s that bouncer, I-don’t-take-shit-from-anyone look. The sexy smile has evaporated and it’s replaced by an emotionless stare.

“I wasn’t mad,” I say indignantly, crossing my arms over my chest. “I mean I was annoyed, then I thought it was sweet, kind of. But now that I’m bringing it up and you’re brushing it off as if I’m being the crazy one, yeah, now I’m pissed.”

He runs his palm over his face and lets out a breath. “So, let me get this straight. You say no to dates so you can’t get rejected. You don’t accept help, including car rides home, because you don’t want to ask for help. You don’t tell anyone you’re deaf because you don’t want to be seen as weak. Who the fuck hurt you so bad that you have to be on guard all the damn time? I thought you were going to try to let me in.”

I know my eyes are huge right now. I can’t believe he’s saying all this to me. “What?”

“You don’t give people the opportunity to be your friend.” Ouch. That stings. “Sorry. That was harsh.”

“I just don’t know how people will react. I don’t want people to feel bad for me or feel as if they have to accommodate me somehow. It’s almost like I feel as if by staying away I’m doing them a favor so that they don’t have to deal with me.”

“That’s just sad. And pathetic.”

“Jesus, thanks a lot.”

He shakes his head and smirks. “How about you let people decide on their own whether they like you or not, or whether they want to be your friend or not, instead of deciding for them by ostracizing yourself first. You may be surprised at how nice some people are.”

“Says the guy who’s never been made fun of.”

“You think everyone you’ll ever meet will be a dick to you?”

“Well when you say it that way…”

“Exactly. So why not try to make friends and stop hiding your hearing impairment from everyone?”

I let out a deep breath. “Maybe you’re right.”

“It does happen on occasion.” He smirks again, the sonofabitch. “I like you, Lola. I can’t help it that I want to make things easier for you. I’m sorry that me moving you to the front offended you but it wasn’t meant to. I don’t think you’re weak. Not at all. But I’m going to do that sort of shit. I’m going to open the door for you and I’ll carry heavy shit around. But I’ll also leave the toilet seat up and forget to change the toilet paper.”

I lean forward and let my head fall against the dashboard and thump it a few times. “I’m such an asshole.” I sigh before sitting back up. “Thank you for moving me up. That was a nice thing to do and you’re right. About everything you said. I’m just not used to letting other people do things for me.” I stop and fiddle with my hair before continuing. “I had a boyfriend. We were very much in love, or so I thought. I was wrong. I was with him when I got sick and lost my hearing. When things got tough, which was almost immediately, he dumped me.”

“I’m sorry, Lola. That guy is an asshole. It had nothing to do with you. You haven’t had many people around you that you could count on. I get it. I haven’t either. But you can’t just assume everyone’s going to let you down.”

I never thought about it that way. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am. I’m older and wiser.”

“Much much older. Like an old man, older,” I tease. “Seriously though, I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. I’d promise not to do it again but it’d be a lie. I’ll do it again and again.”

And I think that’s part of the problem. I’m going to start getting used to being treated as if I’m someone important and what happens when it all ends?

“Stop thinking,” he says as we reach his house and he parks the car. He always seems to know when I’m stuck in my head. And I am stuck. But now I think I want to seize the moment. Right here, right now. I may never have an opportunity like this again—being with this supremely hot and sexy man who wants to move chairs and open doors for me and doesn’t care that I can’t hear a damn thing. I have two months before I have to leave and this opportunity is being tossed on my lap. Why am I squandering it?

“Whatever it is you’re thinking right now, just say it,” he says, again with that serious face.

Fuck it.

Boldly, I reach over and kiss his lips. It’s supposed to be an impulsive quick peck but he pulls me to him, cupping the back of my neck with his palm and pressing me against him. The kiss escalates and I want more. I don’t want to play games. He needs to know my intentions.

We’re breathless and leaning against each other, forehead to forehead, until he finally pulls his head back and runs his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t think that’s what you were thinking.”

I chuckle. “It wasn’t.”

“Well, I’m glad you went for the kiss instead then.”

“Me too.” I lean over and kiss his lips one last time before I get out of the car and look back at him over my shoulder. “But I’m not done yet.”

Fox

I do a double take. Maybe I misheard her. “What did you say?”

“You’re right. I haven’t really been living since I lost my hearing, and I push people away. The few times I’ve tried to date, they’ve been disasters. Men don’t want to date a deaf chick. I dated a few hearing-impaired men when I first lost my hearing but I was still not proficient in signing and I felt completely excluded from their lives because I couldn’t speak their language. It was horrible. I didn’t fit in the hearing community and I didn’t fit in the deaf community. And realizing men feel sad for me—that’s been a disaster all on its own too.”

She lets out a long agonized breath. “And getting intimate…” She makes a noise in her throat. “Nearly impossible. I can’t hear, which means I can’t really direct.”

Direct? What the fuck? It’s sex, not a fucking movie.

“I’m young and single and I have needs,” she continues in a rush and makes a face at the word “needs.”

“I know, how forward of me. But I do. I have needs just like everyone else. And when I leave I probably won’t be able to date or have sex for God only knows how long. And speaking of leaving, I also don’t want a relationship now. I’m focused and dedicated to my plan.”

I have my keys in my hands, but I don’t move, I want to hear this weird speech that I’m sure is difficult for her to say. In the doorway of my complex, as the sun sets behind her, she looks younger and more innocent than she normally does, but no less beautiful. She’s biting the corner of her lip every so often—her tell. But, nevertheless, I let her finish. I’m not going to let her off the hook. This is the small effort I wanted her to make. This is her giving me something, and I’m so ready to take it all. I just need her to finish her thoughts.

“I don’t want a relationship because I’m leaving soon. And you have your own things going on. Important things that you’re super excited about. It’s not like you’re planning to move across the planet to an impoverished country to help kids.” She snorts as if it’s the most preposterous thing that would or could ever happen. And it is—I wouldn’t. I’ve already lived in poverty and in my version of hell. I’m not going to go seek it out voluntarily. I like nice things. Down pillows, designer clothes, luxury cars. She’s right. But still, somewhere in my selfish heart the jab stings.

“And well, we couldn’t be more wrong for each other. Except that I know you can kiss and I want to be kissed and I want to have sex and I think you could do that with me. We could do that. I think it could be good. I mean, no strings attached sex. Men like that. I’m offering it. Oh God, I can’t believe I just babbled all that.” She drops her head into her hands. I think she’s done.

My head is spinning. That was a lot of information.

“That was…interesting. A bit all over the place, but interesting.”

“I’m sorry.” She walks in front of me to the inside of the complex and up the stairs. I follow right behind her, trying to process what she just offered. She’s right. Men do not say no to those kinds of propositions, especially with women they find attractive. And really, I should feel flattered that she expects me to be so good in bed that lacking one of the five senses wouldn’t even come into play.

There is just one problem with the proposition.

I don’t think I want something temporary, which is what I think she’s offering. I mean, maybe it doesn’t work out in the long run, but starting it off as a “sex only” deal isn’t going to work. It’ll get messy, fast. She’s not that kind of girl and regardless, I don’t want it. Someone is bound to develop feelings and get hurt. And the likelihood is that it’s going to be her, and I’m going to end up being the asshole who hurt her. I don’t want to be the asshole.

But, how can I say no? If I say no it would prove my father right. I am stupid, after all.

And I’ll probably lose her in the process. No sex and no Lola. The answer has to be a resounding yes.

I open the door to my apartment and turn toward her. She is still looking everywhere but at me, so I take her bag and toss it aside then turn her to look at me. “I don’t need directing,” I say, my decision made.

“I know,” she whispers.

“And you’re right. I can’t commit to a relationship with you. You’re leaving.”

I want her to know it’s because she’s leaving, not because I wouldn’t want something with her. If I could, I’d date her, get to know her. See where things go.

“In two months,” she says without hesitation.

“I hate to start this off with an expiration date.”

“It has to be like this. It’s this way or nothing.”

“It’ll never work out. Someone will get hurt. You’ll get hurt.”

Her blue eyes are enormous and as I move closer to her, I see the way they gloss over with lust. “Then don’t hurt me,” she whispers. “The only way you can possibly hurt me is by messing with my future.”

“I won’t mess with your trip.”

“Then, we’re on the same page,” she says breathlessly.

“I can make it really good for you. Give you something to think about while you’re away.”

“I really hope your arrogance is on par with your talent.”

I laugh at her wit. “I want to fuck you, Lola. Have wanted to since I first saw you.”

She playfully smacks my shoulder. “You are so romantic.”

Then she—not me—she stalks closer to me. All five foot three inches of her. I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman pursue me like this. It’s sexy as hell. On the tips of her toes, she wraps her hands around my neck and pulls me down. Her lips crash into mine.

And so it begins…

I can’t get enough of her. She’s intoxicating and eager and all Lola. I know I’m being sappy, but there’s no other way I can define the chemistry between us. I want to ravage her except that she’s all limbs and claws, and even though it goes against all my instincts I let her take the lead. I think she needs it. And also, because she can’t hear me even if I were to tell her to stop or to slow down and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I want to see what she wants and needs and I honestly have no qualms about letting her use my dick to figure it out.

I’ll give her this one time. Let her get it out of her system. Then it’s my turn to play.

Lola

Oh God. He’s just so…so much. I’ve only slept with Gus and that was so long ago, I barely remember. Hell, I wasn’t even legally an adult when it happened. And the few dates I’ve been on since then, there were a few kisses but they…their arms didn’t feel like Fox’s arms. Fox’s arms are thick and even if I put both hands together I can’t wrap my hands around one. It’s just muscle upon muscle. My hand trails down to his chest, but I don’t disentangle my lips from his as I start to unbutton his shirt. I feel him leading me to his couch.

Once I’ve unbuttoned his shirt, I run my hands up his pecs and wow…more hardness and fuzz. The other guys didn’t have fuzz because well, they were boys and Fox isn’t a boy. Fox is a man and one helluva a man at that. He takes my face in his big palms and tries to guide my frantic kisses but I’m all over the place. I won’t lie to myself, I’m a mess of hormones right now. And I’m not thinking right. He gave me the green light and I’m taking it before he changes his mind and doesn’t want to fuck the deaf girl. Maybe I’ll feel humiliated later but I’m too worked up to care much about anything but getting off right now. And yes, I know I’m thinking like a horny teenage boy right now. But…fuck it.

I don’t want to stop, in fact I want more and I want it now. With his palms on my face, I move my hands down his body to his jeans. I begin to unbutton and then unzip them, but he grabs my hand to stop me. I’m about to pout but his intentions are clear when his hand goes to the bottom of my shirt and lifts it over my head. I need to undress. Duh! Two naked people are needed for this. Not just one. So while he’s doing that, I kick my sandals aside and start to unzip my jeans. Then I shimmy them down my legs and next thing you know, he’s lying on his big fluffy sofa, and I’m standing there in just a white bra and white undies, which I did not choose for a sexy moment—they were the only clean ones I had.

Damn it.

I wish I had planned this a little better.

He’s staring at me, heat in his eyes, and I’ve never felt more desired in my life, which makes the panties and bra thought immediately fly out of my mind. With all that I have going on in my life, my lack of hearing and my lack of funds, I refuse to add body issues to them. So, I stand there as confident as a woman who is standing in front of a god of a man can be.

The fact that I can see his cock bulging against his half-open jeans does something to boost my ego. He reaches in his pocket, takes out his wallet, removes a condom, and tosses it at me. “All yours.” That’s all he’s said since I attacked him. This is what I wanted, right? I’m not going to back down now. I pull at his jeans, taking his briefs with them; he lifts his hips to help me and then…Holy shit!

He is naked.

And hard.

And big.

And he’s watching me watch him.

I’m not sure where to start because I’m so damn hungry I want it all. Appetizer, main course, and dessert. But right now I’m so utterly desperately horny that I really just need a release.

I go straight for his mouth again and as I kiss him, his soft beard tickling my face, I feel his hand snake around my waist, down the elastic of my undies, down my ass, and down even further until he’s there.

Oh!

I start wiggling and writhing as he grips my throat like he did that first day he kissed me, except I’m standing and he’s lying(ish) down. His fingers are now inside of me pumping hard, my wetness dampening my panties, and I’m gripping the foil condom packet in my hand. His fingers are thick and everything just feels so tight I can’t even imagine how it’s going to feel when his cock is inside me. The sensation starts to build. “More,” I moan, and before I know it my white cotton panties are in shreds on the floor.

Quickly I rip open the package as he takes his impressive cock firmly in his hand and I roll the condom onto him. He lifts me to straddle him and I move up to position him right at my entrance and slowly—ever so slowly—slide down. We’re in perfect sync, and I know—I feel—this is going to be nothing like any other experience I’ve had before.

I don’t know if he says anything but I do know that I’m speechless. I groan and moan at the sensation and I can feel by the vibration on my palm on his chest, that he is making some sort of sound—almost like a growl.

The feel of him in me goes from a bit uncomfortable to so freaking sensational as my fingers bite into his chest. I move up and down, up and down, finding my rhythm. Nothing has ever felt so good in my life. I close my eyes and I swear I can feel him everywhere, as I ride him for what feels like forever. I’ve never felt so free and uninhibited before in my life.

Fox

I wonder if she even knows I’m here.

I’ve never seen a woman lose herself so completely during sex. I wonder if it’s because it’s me she’s fucking or if it’s just the way she fucks. I watch her tits, her nicely sized, pert tits, bounce up and down as she rides my cock like she’s in a fucking rodeo. Her head falls back and her pussy squeezes me. I know she’s about to come, and I’ve done absolutely nothing to get her there. Not one damn thing. Well, except provide the dick. I’m harder than I’ve ever been in my entire life and I want to make this good for her, but she’s not giving me a chance. And honestly, I’m in awe of the way she’s taking what she needs. So, I let her.

I bite the inside of my cheek, trying not to come as I watch her lose herself to an intense orgasm. I hope I’m not bruising her hip with the tight grip I have on her. When her muscles constrict so tightly around my cock, it takes everything I have not to blow with her. But I refuse to let our first time come and go this way. She’s been let down before and if I let her down, she’s going to assume this is what sex is like. And yes, this is sex, but this isn’t good sex. This is just getting off. And why just get off when you can have mind-blowing orgasms? From what she’s said, I think she’s never experienced that before. And a woman like Lola, who just rode my cock like a fucking prize-winning bull rider, deserves a mind-blowing orgasm.

Once her breathing slows and she finally opens her eyes and releases her death grip on my chest, where I’m sure she’s pulled out some hair, she smiles shyly.

I chuckle. “Enjoy yourself, Tiger?”

“Yes, actually.”

“I feel a little used, if I’m being honest.”

She shrugs and drops down on top of me. I slap her ass and then flip us over. “Oh no. No snuggling. This isn’t over.”

Her eyes are closed so I grab her chin firmly and she opens them lazily. “Now that you got that first one out of the way, let’s do this right.”

“That wasn’t right? It felt right.”

“I’m sure we can do better.” Since we’re still connected I position one of her legs over the back of the couch and the other one over my shoulder and start to move in and out of her slowly. Painfully slow. Maybe not painful for her, but painful for me because I’m ready to burst from her erotic use of my cock two minutes ago.

I have her complete attention right now as I move over her. Fuck she’s beautiful. I can’t get over how natural she is in her beauty. Her best features are her huge expressive sapphire-colored eyes. Whomever she needed to direct was an imbecile. I don’t need a fucking map; all you need is a bit of time and to pay attention—she lets me know exactly what she likes by the little O that forms on her lips or the way her eyes widen or how they shut tight in pleasure when I move my thumb down her flat stomach and lower still until I circle her clit over and over.

I bend down and suck one of her nipples into my mouth and absolutely no words leave her lips as her back arches, her pussy clenches and her little hands fist the sofa, making me wild. Tightly squeezing my cock, she comes again, her legs wrapping around me and I follow right behind her in a mind-numbing orgasm that leaves me breathless and completely and utterly sated. So much so, I wonder what the hell I’ve been doing for the past thirty-three years of my life because I’ve never had an orgasm like this one before.

Jesus Christ. She may be inexperienced but she makes up for it in passion and enthusiasm and sensations that I didn’t even know were part of sex. She uses her hands and fingers to emote her needs, scratching and thumping and pushing and pulling. Even now, the way she gently caresses my back, soothing me in a way I didn’t even know I needed or wanted, I can’t wait to see what little Lola will surprise me with over the next two months.

Somehow we end up drifting asleep on my sofa. All my past sexual experiences have ended up two ways: with either the woman or me leaving right after, or alternatively, the woman asking a million questions as to what happens next, trying to force another date. That isn’t to say I haven’t had relationships. I’ve had three serious relationships in the past but other than those women, the rest have been more of the one-night-stand variety.

This is different.

Lola still hasn’t said a word but suddenly she pushes off my chest and jumps up from the sofa. She grabs her phone and shoves it right in my face so I can see the time. We have an hour to get back to the club for work. “Shit!” I exclaim, picking up our clothes, which are strewn throughout my home.

“You go shower first. I’ll make us some quick sandwiches, then I’ll shower while you eat.”

“ ’Kay!” she yells. I feel a smack on my bare ass as she runs to the bathroom.

Did she just smack my ass?

This is definitely different. I’m completely disconcerted as I make us sandwiches. Now I know exactly how those women in my past felt about me. Because shit…I want to talk about feelings and about…more. Or at least about later. Can we have exclusive sex? I don’t want to share her. I refuse.

Damn it. This woman is going to be a problem.

Lola

I’m not sure what to say except…wow. I’m practically twirling in the shower. That was by far the best sex of my life. In fact, what I had done before, that wasn’t sex. This was sex, and I want to do it over and over and over again. I can’t believe I went so crazy. I’m always very controlled but I can’t even feel embarrassed about it. Fuck it. I’m going to enjoy this for as long as I can and at least I can say I’ve had great sex in my life.

I won’t delude myself into thinking that I’ll ever have a relationship with someone like Fox. It’s just not in the cards for me. I don’t have poor self-esteem but I’m a realist. What guy wants to put up with me? Not just because of my hearing impairment but because of the circumstances as well. I’m poor and I’m leaving. He’s rich and he’s staying. We couldn’t be more different. Our goals in life are in complete opposition. I’m leaving and there is no man or amount of sex that will ever get me to stay.

My eyes are closed and I’m lathering my hair and smelling his manly shampoo when cold air rushes into the shower. I open my eyes to see Fox walk in with a soft, loopy smile. He kisses me, then reaches over me for the soap and begins to shower. I’ve never showered with a man before. I like it.

I’m finding that there’s not much I don’t like about Fox.

“So…” he says. I stop moving my hands and focus on his lips but he doesn’t continue so I tip a brow up urging him on. “Was it good?”

“Good?”

“The sex,” he explains. “Was it what you hoped it would be?”

I laugh and close my eyes and continue to rinse the shampoo out of my hair. “Your insecurity is showing, Mr. Fox.” I open one eye, and his gaze narrows on me. I laugh again. “It was more than I could have hoped for. It was unbelievable. We can do it again, right?” I ask hopefully.

“We’d better.” As he turns around to grab the shampoo, I glimpse a big tattoo on his back by his right shoulder. It’s absolutely the cutest tattoo I’ve ever seen—of a red fox that looks a little dangerous and predatory, but it has hipster glasses on, which softens the effect. It’s cute and funny but sexy and badass at the same time. It’s William Fox in a nutshell.

“I love this!” I yelp and then school the tone of my voice. I still feel a little insecure about talking so much. It makes me feel very vulnerable and open, even more than the sex, if that makes any sense. My body may not be perfect but it’s normal. My hearing and my voice…they’re not normal and even though he hasn’t done a thing to make me feel insecure, it’s going to take me a while to let that part of me go.

He looks over his shoulder. “My clever fox tattoo? Yeah, I like that one too. I got it on a drunken night but it was well drawn, thank God.”

“It’s perfect for you in every way. I love it,” I murmur, running my finger around it.

I get on my toes and wrap my arms around his neck. It’s weird that I’m naked in a shower with a man, but all those wonderful endorphins are still messing with my brain and I can’t seem to feel embarrassed. I kiss his lips then his cheeks and eyes and nose until he thaws a bit.

I can feel him laughing against my body.

He pulls back so I can see his face. “You’re sweet when you’re naked. I like it.” He kisses my lips. “Now hurry up or we’ll be late.”

I roll my eyes. He shouldn’t be so sweet or I’ll start to like him more than I should.

I finish up and leave him in the shower after he tells me he left me a sandwich on the kitchen counter. Quickly, I find my bag and put on my work clothes. The uniform for Duality is different from Panic. It’s a pair of short jean shorts and a tank top, the front of which is white with the Duality logo on it while the back is black, and combat boots. Once I’m dressed, I eat the enormous ham and cheese sandwich he made me. Then I do my makeup at the kitchen table and put my hair up in a high ponytail. When I’m ready, I go to find him but he is not at all ready.

“Fox! We’re going to be late.”

He’s meticulously trimming his beard and he’s not even dressed yet. “I’m going as fast I can.” I cross my arms and glare at him. He’s being ridiculous—he looks great already. I didn’t even dry my hair. “You look stunning,” he says to me, which makes me smile but doesn’t stop me from pushing him to finish up.

“So do you. Now, let’s shake a leg, buddy.”

“One sec.” He steps back, then trims the tiniest little hair from his beard.

I roll my eyes and get up, annoyed. So much for being sweet. I’m about to pull him out the door by the tie. I don’t want to be late for my first night at Duality. I realize, again, that we’re so different. Where I’m a no-frills, laissez-faire kind of girl, he’s a perfectionist who holds others’ opinions in high regards. This just reminds me that no matter how great the sex was, this is a sex only relationship. It would never work out in the long run anyway. Our lives are so different, and as I watch him adjust his silk suit for the third time, I am only concerned with making it to work on time.

I’m pacing around while he’s making sure his hair is perfect and that everything is perfect and…ugh. “Oh. My. God. Hurry up!”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s go,” he finally says. “I take it back, you’re not that sweet.” He grabs his keys and wallet, locks up, and we hurry downstairs and into his Corvette, zigzagging through Miami until we make it to the club, barely on time.

As I’m about to walk in, he grabs my arm. “Come home with me tonight.”

“Uh…” I look around. “Let’s talk about this later, okay?” I don’t want the entire club to know I’m sleeping with the boss. I pull away and hustle to the bar and get sucked into my first night at Duality.

Fox

Shit.

Something happened between the mind-blowing sex and the drive to work. I don’t know what it was. I’m thinking she wants the hearts and flowers, even though we agreed to keep it to strictly sex. Maybe we should have talked about it. Fuck. Hopefully, we can figure it out tonight. In my bed. Because that’s where I want her. But I don’t have time to think about it because as soon as people start pouring in, I’m focused on only work.

“Everything going smoothly?” David asks from behind the bar.

“So far so good,” I say.

“Great. Come have a drink with us.” He gestures for a bartender bearing a tray of champagne and glasses to follow us to a table at the far end of the club.

At the booth I see Nick and Matt with their women, Katherine and April. Also sitting with them is a stunning woman who I recognize as David’s wife, Geo, and Iggy. They’re all laughing at something when David and I walk over.

“Any issues?” Nick asks me.

“Nothing so far.”

“Good. Tomorrow we have a full house again,” Matt says. Tomorrow is another soft opening with mostly family and friends and then next week is our official opening.

Iggy takes the bottle of champagne and opens it. “Here’s to a successful business venture!”

“Hear hear!” Everyone cheers as Iggy pops the cork and pours everyone a flute. I stay only long enough for a sip or two because I get word that the second floor bar is overcrowding and they’re running low on vodka so I excuse myself and go help out. By the time I make it up there, it’s already been taken care of by the staff but I double- and triple-check everything.

By two in the morning, I’ve had to go up and down the stairs a hundred times putting out all sorts of minor fires.

And I’m also keeping an eye on Lola every chance I get. This is a new environment for her, and even though I know she is more than capable, I’m still wary. I know I have no business feeling this way, but I can’t help it. The last few nights I researched sign language and practiced a few things. So far I’ve mastered one sentence: “All good?”

I walk past her and decide, since none of the staff is looking my way, to quickly test out my new ability. I tap her shoulder and sign, “All good?”

Without thinking she signs something back but I have no idea what it is, and then she realizes what just happened. For a moment she’s confused and looks around quickly. No one saw, relax, I mouth, which she easily reads.

With her hand over her heart in a tender gesture, she gives me a warm smile. It’s either because I learned that one simple sign or because everything is in fact “all good.” Whatever the reason, she gives me a thumbs-up with a sappy smile before taking care of the group of women in front of her.

When I turn around I crash right into Iggy. “You know sign language?”

“Uh…” I’m speechless. Not something I’m accustomed to being. I can’t spill Lola’s secret. I promised her and she’d be devastated. “No,” I say, which isn’t a lie.

“I thought I saw you signing to that bartender,” he says, looking over my shoulder. I look back and Lola is busy serving guests.

“No. I was pointing at a drink she left on the bar,” I lie. “So, what do you think of the place so far?”

He eyes me suspiciously for a moment, then looks around. “It’s interesting. It’ll work in Miami. People wear less at the beach.”

“Yeah. My only worry is that people will start touching and grabbing.”

“I know. Worries me too. But Nick and Matt tell me you’ll know how to handle it if it becomes a problem.”

I take a deep breath. “If something happens, I’ll deal. Just don’t want the girls having to deal with that shit.”

“I put a lot of money into this place, so I don’t want any harassment lawsuits. I also need this business to make money so you’re going to have figure it out.”

“No pressure, right,” I joke.

“A lot of fuckin’ pressure, buddy.” He taps the back of my shoulder and walks away leaving me feeling stressed out about making this as successful as possible.

Lola

The evening is chaotic but the tips are out of this world. If things go this well every night, I’ll meet my goal before the month is over. I’m smiling from ear to ear by the time the club closes, especially when I see that Fox is lingering by the entrance and I’m certain it’s because he’s waiting for me. I can’t believe he signed to me. It was the single sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I mean, I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see him, but my heart melted when he did it. Which makes me forget how irritating he was earlier in his house with his crazy obsession over his appearance.

I stick the wad of cash in my purse, then cross my purse over my torso and walk to the front doors. I notice that Fox isn’t looking at me any longer, he’s looking over my shoulder.

I turn and see the bosses sitting at the bar, their suit jackets gone and their ties hanging loose on their shirts. There are three women sitting nearby and everyone seems to be talking at once, therefore I don’t know what is being said.

A small squeeze on my forearm makes me turn my head back to Fox. “They’re asking us to have a toast with them.” I think he’s whispering, but I’m not sure. I also think he’s asking for permission.

“Okay?”

“Okay? You want to stay and have a toast with them?”

“No. You go ahead. I’m sure they mean you.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “No, they asked us. Well, they asked everyone who’s still here but everyone is leaving so, it’s just us left.”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I say. How can I say no to the four owners and the manager who I slept with just a few hours ago.

He leads me to the bar, his hand on the small of my back, and I wonder if we look like we’re together. I don’t necessarily want people to know I hooked up with the Fox, but I don’t necessarily feel the need to keep it a secret. Hopefully the topic doesn’t come up.

“Oh! Finally, she said yes to you!” one of the women says happily—clapping as soon as she sees us. Well there goes my plan of not addressing the Fox-Lola-hooking-up situation.

My eyebrows furrow and I look over at Fox. “I haven’t exactly been secretive about wanting to go out with you,” he admits. And it’s true. He has been pretty relentless. I roll my eyes and smile.

“Leave them alone, babe,” Nick quips, which automatically tells me that the woman must be Katherine, Nick’s fiancée.

Fox is talking with the men and the women turn their attention to me. “I love a man with a beard,” Katherine says, looking dreamily at Fox.

Nick has a badass beard similar to Fox’s, except Nick’s is inky black, like his longish black hair that he keeps tied in a man-bun.

“Eww…” April says, screwing up her face. “Nick and Fox look mean with their beards. I prefer Matt and his smooth face.”

“Me too,” Geo says with a big smile at her man. “Not Matt, though. I mean David. I like that I can actually see his face. All that hair? No, thank you.”

Katherine leans in as if she’s telling us the secret to world domination. “You haven’t lived until you’ve felt a beard rub along your thighs.” Then she winks at me.

I hold up my hands. “I wouldn’t know.”

“That man, beard or not, is hot!” Geo says with her thick French accent. “And he’s huge. I bet he could do some creative things with all those muscles.”

My cheeks flush.

“Leave the poor girl alone,” April says, then adds, “but he’s really into you, you know?”

I turn my head and watch him. He’s talking to the other men, but the way he’s sitting, with his arm over the back of my chair, leaning casually toward me, it definitely stakes a claim.

“He’s sweet,” I say to the girls when I face them again.

“Sweet? That’s not the word I’d use,” Katherine says.

“He has to protect his bouncer image here. But in private he’s sweet,” I say and when they eye me skeptically, I laugh. “Okay, he’s sexy too. Sweet and sexy,” I admit to these women I barely know—but they are tipsy and funny and I feel oddly comfortable around them.

“I wonder if he wears that suit in bed?” Geo says, which makes me laugh.

“I hear you guys, you know?” Fox says, and Geo shrugs, unconcerned.

“It’s almost morning, man. Take off that suit for godsakes,” Matt says to Fox.

“Nah, I’m good,” Then he leans closer to me. “And I don’t wear this suit to bed.”

“Good to know,” I answer back, feeling the women’s eyes on me.

“I could be into the suit in bed,” Katherine says.

“Babe.” Nick rolls his eyes and smirks.

“Jesus, at least take off the tie,” Iggy adds.

Fox rolls his eyes and loosens his tie but doesn’t take it off.

“How long does it take you to get that beard that way?” Iggy says. “Do you use a ruler?” he teases.

“Yes!” I sass. I know I shouldn’t but it’s so funny that someone else notices how perfect that damn beard is.

“You’re seriously going to make fun of me?” Fox says with a smile. I look around and everyone is laughing.

“Sorry,” I say, wrinkling my nose and smiling coyly.

“Grab me that chair, will ya?” Iggy says to David who grabs a chair and drags it to the other man.

“Well, I don’t know about your stuffy suit or your tie, but my leg is fuckin’ killing me,” Iggy complains and without any warning reaches under his pant leg and pulls out a prosthetic leg, then kind of throws it on the extra chair with a big sigh of relief.

“Dude, how many times do I have to tell you: you can’t take off your leg without warning people first,” Nick says as he looks at me and Fox. I think both of our mouths are hanging open.

“Oh, sorry.” Iggy shrugs as he massages his stump.

“So…” David says with a smile, “I guess it’s as good a time as any for that toast. It was a great evening. Here’s to many more.” We all grab a flute and clink our glasses and drink up, ignoring the fact that Iggy is missing a leg and I have a million questions about it.

“And to beards rubbing on thighs,” Katherine adds with a hiccup. “And suits in bed!”

“Jesus Christ. I think it’s time to stop drinking, babe.”

I feel a tap on my shoulder and Fox points to Iggy, who is asking me something. I wonder how long he’s been trying to get my attention because I’m still focused on all the other things happening around us. Beards. Suits. Prosthetic legs. “How did you do tonight? Better than Panic?”

“Yes.” I say happily.

“Okayyyy…” He drags it out. “Not a big talker I see.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” I add, remembering what Fox said about my one-word answers. “It was a good night. I wonder if it’s because it was mostly family and friends, though. I guess the real test’ll be next week.”

Iggy’s looking at me, not saying anything, and I wonder if I said something wrong or if my tone was off. Suddenly, I’m feeling very self-conscious and I just want to get out of here.

“It’s late, let’s close up and head out,” Matt suggests and the other women all nod in agreement. It’s well past four in the morning and while they were paying attention to our conversation, they’ve mostly been sleepily leaning on their men.

“Thank you for the drink,” I say before we all say our good nights and turn to leave.

“My house?” Fox asks, hopeful.

“Only if I can do a load of laundry because I need to clean my clothes for work tomorrow morning.” I’m glad I still have my bag from this morning with me.

“Not a problem.” He leads me, with a hand on my lower back, to his car, and once again we’re driving to his house.