Milly Malone a single mother of two, carrying twenty pounds too much Milly. Underpaid and overworked she stood alone in the cold. Her life sucked. Her teenage sons couldn’t stay out of trouble. Her mother was constantly nagging her to get married. She’d just gotten another call from the principle about her oldest, and mandatory overtime would kill her the one weekend she had without the boys. Ten seconds from a major meltdown, she found herself bumming a cigarette, a habit she’d quite five years before. Having her fugitive smoke behind the dumpster of the restaurant where she was a server, she felt tears pooling in her eyes. Today was Valentine’s Day and she didn’t have anyone to shower her with love and attention, as usual. The day couldn’t get much worse.
“Get back to work.” Her angry manger yelled out the door and startled her. She dropped the cigarette after only a few drags right into a puddle of melting snow. Jinks. Disheartened she trudged back inside to suffer through abusive customers. Several people had called in “sick” so they were short staffed which made both her coworkers and the customers cranky.
When her shift finally ended and she looked at her sad pile of tips in her apron she said goodbye to her best friend.
“See you tomorrow Allie. I hope Bobby takes you some place really great tonight.”
“Oh, I doubt it, but thanks. We’ve been married twenty years. They stop trying after awhile.” Allie chuckled; the softness in her eyes bespoke her love for her man.
Milly smiled sadly, she felt like an old woman at thirty-five. Valentine’s Day had been manufactured to sell cards and chocolate hearts, she reminded herself. It shouldn’t make her feel so awful. Nonetheless, it never failed to leave her drunk and miserable, cursing men. She’d take her usual bubble bath and listen to sad country songs while drinking an entire bottle of wine, her yearly tradition since her divorce six years ago.
Pulling out of the parking lot, she didn’t have time to stop as the Mercedes barreled down on her compact car. The driver of the other car blew past the stop sign, and swerved trying to miss her. The expensive car clipped her fender, causing her to jerk painfully against the seat belt. The Mercedes kept going. She tried to get its license but the car turned with a screech, out of sight before she could recover enough to note the number. Angry, her last straw broken, Milly gunned the engine, pursuing the law-breaker with self-righteous determination.
Somehow, she managed to stay behind the other car as it drove in a reckless, erratic way. Dusk gave way to darkness as the Mercedes finally pulled into a dark parking lot.
Did she dare confront a stranger in such a dark deserted place? The bastard obviously had more money than she did; the driver was paying for her repair. Taking a deep breath, she got out of her car, slamming her door. Walking up to the other car she knocked on the window, ready to denounce the driver’s driving with passion and vehement.
When the window rolled down Milly stood speechless.
He was beautiful. Agelessly handsome, the man had long dirty blonde hair. His eyes obscured by sunglasses, which seemed ridiculous in the darkness. When he lowered them, she saw his deep emerald eyes and couldn’t restrain herself from sighing. Catching herself Milly cleared her throat.
“How dare you hit my car and drive off like a maniac. Someone should cut your driver’s license up and throw you in jail. Do you know how many people you could’ve killed driving like that?”
He smiled. He should be a model, a nude model. Shaking away the thought, his bark of laughter startled her.
“So you’d like to see me naked?”
Did she say that aloud? Horrified she clasped her hand over her mouth. He laughed harder. His accent was beautiful and hard to identify.
“Excuse me?” What had he said?
“You are beautiful. You have a form that is…perfect. Much more to my taste than the modern waif form, you are beautiful. What are you called?”
He had a strange way of speaking, formal. It made her think of old fashioned courtliness. She blushed.
“Flattery won’t get you out of paying for my repairs, buddy. I’m not an idiot. Sorry I’m not in the market for some bullshit; good luck selling it to someone else.”
His sly smile made her angry. This wasn’t a game. He’d damaged her car; she wasn’t going to let a pretty face saddle her with his repair cost.
“I won’t call the police if you just give me your insurance information.”
“I will happily pay for my mistake, Bellezza.”
Did he just call her a swear word?
He leaned over and she heard him open something. When he turned she jumped, afraid he’d pulled out a weapon.
“I have no need for mortal weapons, Bellezza.”
He used that weird word again. When he pressed something into her hand, she looked down and just stared in shock. Was that real money?
“Did you print this in your basement or are you a drug dealer?”
“What are you called or should I just call you Bellezza?”
“Milly. You do know this is far more than that repair could possibly cost. So I can only assume this is Monopoly money or you obtained it nefariously.” She held at least five thousand dollars in her hand.
“You make me smile. This is rare sorprendente bellezza, Milly. Please get in my car. I’d like to take you for a…bite; it’s the least I can do after causing you so much unhappiness this day.”
Getting in a car with a very reckless driver who was potentially a drug dealer or something didn’t appeal to her.
“Follow me than. Please come with me, I’d like to eat…with you.”
Did she say yes? Mutely she nodded her consent.
“Wonderful, Have you dined at Miso Bistro?”
It was the most exclusive Japanese restaurant in the area. Reservations were a must.
“I’m not exactly dressed for it. I don’t want to interfere with your plans. It is Valentine’s Day after all. This money takes care of your obligation.” If it’s real.
“Are you a magician or something?” His mind reading was creeping her out. He just smiled.
“You’d never believe what I am, Milly.”
“Well goodnight, umm, thanks.” He’d hit her; why’d she thank him? He was probably a drug dealer; that’s why he gave her such a big pay out of hush money. She could hear him laughing as she walked to her car, as if he could hear her.
She started to open her door, but found herself pinned against it, turned, facing him. He’d moved so quickly, unnaturally. Terrified she looked up into his mesmerizing eyes.
“I want you, Milly. I haven’t wanted like this in a very long time.”
Oh great a drug dealer and a rapist. “When I take you, it will not be rape, Bellezza.”
She was panting. He was right. He smiled. He kissed her neck. His lips hovered above her ear. “I am more than you could imagine. Do you want to be more, Milly? Do you want to be free?”
What was he offering?
“Immortality, wealth, passion. Do you want it, Bellezza?”
She had a job, kids. A job she hated, kids that should probably live with their father as he was the only one who seemed to be able to control them. Could she just abandon her whole life? Yes.
“Oh, Bellezza, you will not regret.” His soft assertion shook her to the core. She believed him.
She didn’t care that anyone driving past on the highway could see his lips on her neck as he held her in a very intimate embrace. She felt his hot mouth on her throat, and then she felt pain.
A scream ripped out of her as the trance he’d held her under broke. Milly pushed against him, fighting for her life. Then the pain stopped; she felt like she was floating. Her body convulsed in spontaneous orgasm, darkness pulled her into it’s abyss.
When she awoke she felt different. A metallic taste in her mouth caused her to frown.
“You’re too beautiful to make that face.” She shrieked and pushed herself up. She was in his car.
“Come to me.”
She obeyed without question. She was his now. She knew it. She welcomed it.
Sliding onto his lap she felt her body respond to just the sensation of her thighs against his, his breath on her face, his scent. Milly was primal.
With fluid movements he soon had her as naked as Eve, her hot pussy wrapping around his cock, tight and hot. She didn’t even know his name but she was his body and soul. As she came in his arms she decided this was way better than chocolate hearts.
About the author: Ashlynn Monroe is a busy wife and mom. She’s been writing since she was a teenager for her own pleasure but in her thirties, she decided it was time to share her stories. She enjoys writing about anything and everything paranormal. When she’s not lovingly raising her young family, she’s dreaming up her next tale of romance. http://AshlynnMonroe.com