Blade
“Not what you expected, is it?” I asked Lucy as we pulled up to the gate in front of my house in my matte black Charger.
“You know,” she said, shaking her head and laughing.
“What?” I asked with a smirk on my face. I could tell I wasn’t at all what she had imagined from a sleazy biker who owned a strip club.
“You’re just full of surprises,” she said.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I told her.
“It definitely is.” She stared wide-eyed through my windshield as we pulled up the driveway.
My house was a wide two-story Southwestern ranch style home. It almost looked like a Spanish mission lifted from somewhere like Texas or New Mexico and relocated to a nice, lush, ritzy neighborhood. My lawn was perfectly manicured with a fountain in front of the main stairs leading up to the front door. The driveway circled around the fountain and branched off to the left to my three-car garage. I picked the layout of the house because it was open. I didn’t like all the closed off plans that so many of my neighbors had used.
Having been married and then divorced, I never wanted to feel confined again, by anything.
“It’s beautiful,” she said as we pulled around to the garage doors.
“Wait until you get inside,” I teased her.
“I can’t wait.” She actually sounded excited to see the rest of the house.
I had pegged her as someone who came from money. She was too clean, too untouched not to have come from a well-to-do family. Plus, they didn’t breed girls with bodies so perfectly proportioned on the streets where I came from. I started to think I had been right about the kind of money she did come from, though. She came from stiff, uptight money.
She must have done something naughty to get kicked out. I had a hardening desire to figure out exactly what it was. And I wanted to know if she was willing to do it again.
We got out of the car, and I walked her in through the front door.
“There’s a door right here,” she said as we walked out of the garage. “Don’t go out of your way just for me.” She was laughing at me for taking her around to the front, but I couldn’t resist. I had to show off at least a little bit.
“It’s more impressive from the front door, trust me,” I assured her as she walked up the steps with me.
I unlocked the door and opened it, revealing Italian marble floors, high ceilings, beautiful crystal chandeliers, and beautiful sculptures of Greek and Roman goddesses standing in the living room.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said again, in awe. “You’re pulling my leg, right? This isn’t you.”
“It is,” I said. “It really is. Now, the whole house isn’t as big as the living room. I know, it’s a bit much, but the rest of the house is still just as beautiful. Come on.”
I took her upstairs to show her the bedrooms and bathrooms. There were the two smaller guestrooms with their private bathrooms, and then there was my bedroom and the master bath attached to it. My bedroom had large wooden double doors that looked like something out of a castle. My king-sized, four-post bed had deep red sheer linen curtains hanging around it. There were curtains of the same color hanging in the windows that looked out over the pool. My room was warmly lit, and I always thought it was very inviting and cozy. At the same time, if I opened the curtains along the back wall, it opened up completely.
“You can leave your things in here,” I told her.
“But this is obviously your room,” she said. “I thought I’d sleep in one of the guestrooms.”
“No, we need to go over some rules, I guess. Leave your things. Let’s go downstairs and talk.” I held the door open so she could walk past me.
She followed me back down, and we walked into the open kitchen and dining room.
“I love your kitchen,” she said as we passed through it. She stopped and looked around at my dark counter tops and black-and-silver appliances. “I could really do some cooking in there,” she added almost as an aside.
I cocked an eyebrow, noting that she liked to cook. I gestured to the table and watched as she kept an eye on the kitchen. I assumed she was imagining cooking in there.
“Have you eaten?” I asked.
“I don’t want to impose.” She shook her head and seemed to shrink back.
“I can put on a pizza,” I told her.
“All this, and you want to make pizza?” she joked.
“Hey, it’s late, and I’m a bachelor,” I defended myself.
“Fair enough, I guess. A pizza sounds good, but if I’m staying here, I’m going to have to cook you some real food, at least for letting me stay. Cooking and cleaning is all I can really do to repay you,” she said as I walked into the kitchen.
I set the oven to preheat. “I’m sure I can find something else for you to do,” I said. Then, I turned to the fridge. “Beer?” I asked out of habit, stopping myself and turning around after I’d said it. “How old are you?”
She laughed again and blushed. “I’m old enough,” she assured me.
“Old enough, huh? I’m going to take your word for it,” I said as I grabbed a couple of light beers out of the fridge. I opened the bottles and handed her one.
“I’m twenty-one, Blade. I’m supposed to be going into my senior year of college next year, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen now,” she said, laughing even as she talked about her apparent change in plans.
“Tell me more,” I said as I sat down. It seemed I wasn’t the only one full of surprises here.
“I was a student at Harvard, but my dad has since withdrawn my enrollment,” she said.
“He can do that? If you’re an adult, you should be able to determine that for yourself,” I told her, mostly just thinking out loud.
“You would think. But he’s pulled back my tuition and pulled some strings up at the university to get me dropped,” she admitted. “He also froze my accounts, because I had him listed on each one. That’s how I ended up on the street. It wasn’t so bad when I had a hotel room.”
She might have come from a wealthy family, but she didn’t seem to be a spoiled little rich kid. I couldn’t tell if her understanding came from being naturally insightful, or she’d just woken up to it all as a result of her little reality check. No matter how it happened, I felt bad for her. She’d been dumped out on her ass. I really wanted to know what she’d done to get disowned by her family. It must have been good. I didn’t want to offend her by asking, and I was pretty sure she would tell me when she was ready.
“So, you said something about rules?” she asked.
“Yes, I did. The reason I told you to leave your bag upstairs and not to worry about cooking and cleaning is because I have a different request as payment for staying with me,” I started. It had been a few years since my divorce, and it was the first time someone else was going to be staying in the house.
Usually, if I brought someone home, they might have stayed the night at most, but I always kicked them out in the morning. Catch and release. I’d fuck her and send her on her way. I could tell already the situation with Lucy was going to be different. If we had sex, which we probably were, I was going to have to work for it, but I wasn’t going to kick her out until she had somewhere to go. That would have been a dick move.
“Do I want to know?” she asked with a raised eyebrow as she took a small sip from her bottle.
“It’s not that bad,” I assured her.
The oven dinged to let us know it was finished preheating. I got up and pulled the pizza out of the freezer to put into the oven.
“You have to sleep in my bed as long as you’re here,” I told her.
“I’m sorry?” She coughed and cleared her throat. “What was that?”
I slid the pizza into the oven and set the timer. “You don’t have to cook or clean or anything like that as long as you share the bed with me,” I reiterated as I sat back down at the table.
“Wait a minute, you’re serious.” She set her beer down and sat back in her chair to stare at me.
“I am.” I hadn’t had anyone actually stay with me in a while, and I thought it was only fair to ask for something in return for my hospitality. Besides, by having her that close physically, I was bound to find out what it was that got her in so much trouble. She had touched me with her crying, but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to get her in bed with me. I wanted to corrupt that innocent young girl.
“I suppose you could have asked for worse,” she said with a shrug.
“True, I guess I could have.” I drank to that.
“I also want to talk to you about dancing,” she said. “I know you think I’m good. I saw how you were looking at me.”
She reminded me of my ex again, before the heinous bitch took over. She had been fairly straightforward, as well. She didn’t like to mince words. Lucy seemed to be missing the same filter that kept some people from being as open.
“Absolutely not,” I told her. “You are not dancing in my club.”
“Why not?” she asked. “I saw how slow it was tonight. You obviously need some new talent, and not any of those washed up skanks I saw waiting to interview with you.”
She was definitely a firecracker. I wondered what had caused her to open up and reveal herself to me. I liked the version of her sitting in front of me more than the scared little girl who’d been up at the club.
“You want to know why not? For one, you look too young. No one’s going to believe you’re old enough to be on that stage. Two, you’re too innocent, too smart, and too pretty. I’ve seen what this life does to girls. They turn into those washed up skanks. You don’t want to do it,” I tried to convince her. Somehow I knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer, but I figured I’d give it one last try.
“You don’t understand, Blade. I really need the money. It’s worse than I’ve let on. I can’t tell you how bad, but I need the cash,” she said.
I sighed. “All right, I’ll give you a shot,” I told her. I wanted to know what was so bad that she’d been kicked out and cut off. I figured if I gave a little, I could get a little.
“Thank you, Blade,” she said, and I could hear the sincere gratitude in her voice.
“Yeah, no problem.” I shook my head and checked the timer on the oven. The pizza was almost done. I got up and grabbed my oven mitts.
“You won’t regret it,” she said cheerfully.
I already did, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. I pulled the pizza out and started cutting it up into pieces to serve it up.