“Yes,” I whisper.
“A little louder, please,” he quips. “I gotta make sure your brother hears it.”
Throwing my head back, I laugh even harder as I finally give in and let my tears of joy fall. “Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”
His arms snake around my waist before he spins me around, and I tuck my face between his jaw and collarbone, soaking up the moment that is so surreal I’d think it was scripted if I didn’t know any better.
But I know the truth.
River––the model, actor, master of orgasms––is all mine.
For real.
No matter what.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
* * *
The End
Forbidden Lyrics
Copyright Kelsie Rae and Subject to Change
Chapter One
Dove
A bead of sweat clings to my brow as I reach across the table and wipe it down with the damp rag when something grazes my bum. I jerk upright, my spine a steel rod, then twist around.
“Can I help you?” I squeak, unsure whether or not the creepy stranger hears me over the speakers. The bar I work at, SeaBird, isn’t exactly the place you go to have a quiet chat, especially when Broken Vows is on stage. I don’t recognize the song echoing through the bar, though, so they must be taking a break.
“Fender,” the stranger returns. “Is he here?”
I peek around the guy’s giant body in search of the band’s lead singer, but find the stage empty. Then I shake my head. “I, uh, I’m not sure. Sorry. Can I get you something to drink?”
And will you stop staring at me like that?
“Only if you’re on the menu.” His mouth quirks up on one side as he scans me up and down, making my skin crawl.
“You’re new,” he notes.
“I started a little while ago,” I hedge before side-stepping to my right. He follows the movement and inches closer.
With a gulp, I stutter, “A-are you sure you don’t want a drink? I can go grab one for you...”
His massive frame crowds me against the table, its sharp edge digging into my lower back as I try to keep myself from cowering, but it feels impossible.
“When do you get off work?” he demands.
“I’m uh,” I twist the rag in my hand. “I’m here all night.”
“Maybe I’ll stick around, then. Watching you bend over that table was the highlight of my evening.”
Zeroing in on the peanut lying on the concrete floor beneath my feet, I try to ignore the way his gaze rolls over me like hot tar, like I’ve been burned.
“I’m uh, I’m not sure my boyfriend would appreciate that,” I choke out.
“Boyfriend, huh? Who’s the lucky bastard?”
My eyes widen with panic before the first name that comes to mind tumbles out of me. “Gibson. He works here. He’s actually––”
“I know, Gibbs.” He scans me up and down again as if I’m a piece of meat at the butcher’s. “And I gotta give you props. You’re rocking the whole innocent vanilla waitress like a champ.”
“Excuse me?”
“If you and Gibbs are a thing, then that means you and Milo are, too.”
Confused, my mouth opens then closes like a fish out of water.
What the heck is he talking about?
Milo and Gibson are friends, but I’ve never gotten the vibe they’re anything else, and––unless my gay-dar is broken–– they’re both very straight.
He chuckles, then toys with the ends of my hair, his knuckle brushing along the top of my breast, but I’m too frozen––too shocked–– to move.
What. Is. Happening?
“You into sharing, Babe?” he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
I shy away from his touch, and push my hair behind my shoulder. “I-if you don’t want anything to drink, then I should probably get back to work––”
“You should give me your number.”
“I have a boyfriend,” I remind him, my voice shaky.
“One you’d be smart to stay away from.”
My brows furrow as I pull my lips into a thin, white line.
He laughs, dryly, though I’m not sure what he finds so amusing. Personally, I’m about to vomit all over the floor if this conversation goes on much longer.
“He’s dangerous,” he informs me as if we’re talking about the weather.
“Huh?”
“Your boyfriend. He’s dangerous. You’d be smart to stay away from him.”
I gulp, but stay quiet, praying he’ll grow bored of our conversation and leave me alone, but I’m afraid that’s wishful thinking.
“Do you know what happened to his last girlfriend? Em?” he asks, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. “She disappeared. Vanished into thin air. I’d hate for that to happen to you too. I’ve always been a sucker for an innocent girl who likes kink.”
“Hey, Dove!” Reese interrupts, her voice light and chipper, though her eyes are anything but. She’s another waitress at SeaBird and is slowly turning out to be one of my good friends too, especially now that she just saved me from Mr. Creeper.
“Everything okay here?” she asks.
I gulp, again, and look up at the mystery man who can’t be more than five or six years older than me, yet still makes me feel like a little kid.
“No problem,” the stranger answers for me “Right, Dove?” He emphasizes my name like it’s a secret password that gives him permission to speak with me, when all I want to do is run and hide. “I was just leaving.”
He steps around me, but still manages to make me feel small and insignificant as he does so. Reese’s upper lip curls in disgust as she watches him leave. But not before he gives me one last knowing look before he walks out the door.
Whoever he was...I hope I never see him again.
“You okay?” Reese asks once he’s out of sight.
Blinking slowly, I try to wrangle in my emotions but it feels impossible.
“Uh, yes. Yes, I’m fine,” I lie.
“What was that about?”
“Nothing.”
“You sure?”
With a jerky nod, I wring the dishrag between my hands like it’s a lifeline. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine. What happened, Dove? Who was that?”
“I-I don’t know. He was looking for Fender.”
“And?”
“And I told him that I didn’t know where he was.”
“Okay?” She frowns. “Is that it?”
With a deep breath, I shake my head. “No. Then he started asking me how long I’d worked here and if I’d be interested in…”––I clear my throat, hating the way my cheeks heat–– “in hooking up later. I lied and told him I had a boyfriend, thinking maybe that would get him to back off.”
Surprised, Reese points out, “That’s a good idea, actually––”
“It didn’t work. So, I told him that Gibson was my boyfriend and that he’d be back any minute, and wouldn’t appreciate him talking to me. I know it’s the furthest thing from the truth and that Gibson hates me, but it just popped into my head, and––”