Moving her elbow to scratch an intolerable itch in the crook of her arm, Lindsay couldn’t find solace in the tropical scenery and kaleidoscope of colors before her. Don’t be afraid to make difficult decisions. Bloodless lips twisted in a mockery of a smile, and poor Lindsay rubbed at her temples. I still can’t believe Colt made me do that.

With a sparkling sea of aquamarine as her canvas and the endless waves emulating the dancing hem of a long and flowing gown at her feet, Lindsay knew she should’ve been enjoying this temporary diversion to California and the sun-splashed crescent sands of Laguna Beach. But I’m not. Growing up in the unforgiving desert, how many times had she begged her straitlaced parents to take her and her three sisters out for a coastal adventure like this? Even if it was just once or twice a year? No, we had to stay in Citronelle, and bake in that oven. Never any fun as a kid.

One of Orange County’s hidden gems, and situated halfway between Los Angeles and San Diego, Laguna Beach was home to 20,000 acres of protected wilderness. From world-renowned mountain biking trails for all levels of expertise, countless miles of hiking, dramatic vistas, verdant hills, and yes, those terrific beaches, it provided the ideal vacation hotspot to dust off your flip-flops and surfboards or hiking shoes and water bottles and forget the rigors of everyday life.

At least for most people.

Don’t be afraid to make difficult decisions. The mantra that Pamela instilled in Lindsay had been playing in her mind on autoloop for nearly two weeks now (and counting). Be that leader, that people manager. If Lindsay didn’t assert herself and prove that she had what it took to be a leader and usher Happy Ending Ranch into a new iteration, Pamela and Colt wouldn’t sell it to her.

Well, she would have her opportunity come Saturday, wouldn’t she? The day my life changes forever. Colt and Pamela were returning to Maryland to prepare for the birth of their child. In doing so, they’d entrust their family business and all its major decisions to Lindsay and Jim for the foreseeable future. Really, just me. Jim would have input, sure, but Lindsay would ultimately assume all the responsibility – and any blame that went along with it – herself. That’s what good leaders do, right? Colt insisted that everything would fall on her.

Fear trickled like ice water through Lindsay’s veins. The captain always goes down with the ship. She swallowed hard at the sudden lump in her throat. Girl, seriously? Do you really think you have the chops for this? If she didn’t, Jeremy McCarron would purchase the brothel and make wholesale changes. He’s already said the entire staff will be let go. Jim, Francisco, Mindy, Jenn, and all the courtesans would find themselves unemployed. Mindy can’t afford to lose her job. Happy Ending Ranch is all Jimbo knows. He’d be destitute without it. Lindsay plucked at her fingernails. So. Much. Pressure. With such frayed nerves, she had no choice but to hug herself on the beach. Self-care was better than no care. Why am I the one who’s suddenly holding everyone’s livelihood in my hands?

However, the last person Lindsay felt any concern for, jobwise, was herself. I have four offers from other brothels, including Chastity’s Ranch. Even if she decided to take a break, Mr. Phalen had offered her $100,000 in cash if she’d spend two weeks with him in Santorini, the largest (and most luxurious) island in Greece’s Cycladic archipelago. Says it will be like a bondage honeymoon, but without the marriage. Just the bondage. She scrunched her face at that idea, though, and held the pendant on her necklace between her thumb and forefinger. I can’t see Mr. Phalen again. Not anymore. Kissing the pendent, Lindsay realized that if she got pressured out of Happy Ending Ranch, she wouldn’t have any issue landing on her feet someplace else. Pamela says I’m the most in-demand courtesan in all of Nevada. I can work wherever I want; make as much money as I want.

Still, that Jeremy guy is an asshole. Fucking prick. I can’t let a hotshot corporate demolitionist take over the house. I just can’t. People like him destroy lives.

Lindsay sat on the beach, her eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. A crab stopped by and cocked its shell at her as if she were an unwelcome foreigner. Which she was. “Hey there, partner. How are you?” It skittered off. Maybe firing Becky turns out to be a blessing in disguise for her? No question, Becky had experienced her share of troubles at the brothel. Not everyone sees that job the same way you do, Linds. Pamela was right, wasn’t she? Pamela is always right. Regardless, Becky claimed to hate Lindsay now. Called me a backstabbing, two-faced bitch. Hasn’t returned any of my texts. Says I ruined her life. Lindsay shook her head in a swift arc as if it would provide some sort of consolation. Why did Colt insist that I be the one to fire her? Reliving that moment made Lindsay’s molars scrape. She’s like, one of my best friends in the whole world.

Or … was one of my best friends.

Easy. Trembling in sorrow, Lindsay stared blankly away, wiping errant tears. Don’t be afraid to make difficult decisions. Colt advised Lindsay the last time they spoke that “with great power comes great responsibility.” The only thing that takes precedence over the house’s success is the health and welfare of our employees.

If a turnout couldn’t handle the demands, she had to go. Period. End of story. There was no coaching her up. No, I’m not gonna be the one to fire Becky. You are, Lindsay. You want to be a leader? Take the next step? Do it. Fire Becky. Show me and Pamela that you can do it.

“Excuse me.” Lindsay glanced up and noticed a young Mexican-American man, perhaps in his mid-to-late twenties, jogging toward her. “Hi. I’m sorry, but I had to come say hi because you are so doggone cute.”

“Hi.” Lindsay arched a brow, a slight smirk spreading across her face as she accepted his handshake. “Umm, wow. Thank you.” With her left hand, she adjusted her bikini top, wet and see-through, and literally glued to her overinflated breasts.

The man tried not to leer, but damn. …

“What’s your name, my love?”

“Lindsay.”

“Very nice to meet you.” He finished their handshake with an exaggerated flourish. “I’m Marcello.”

“Marcello?” Lindsay’s eyes rolled over the landscape of his angular face, studying him. At six-foot and maybe one-seventy, Lindsay could tell he kept in prime shape. Nice-lookin’ dude. Probably accustomed to most women ogling him, too, and practically doing cartwheels to get his attention. But Lindsay wasn’t like most women. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, but I was getting ready to leave.”

She was blowing him off? There was no way Marcello would allow Lindsay to step away without at least making a concerted effort. Okay, sure, he ultimately wanted to strip away that teensy-weensy bikini and deposit his payload in her ATM, but didn’t every other normal red-blooded man along Diver’s Cove have the same urge? Most of them, at least, had been gawking at Lindsay nonstop.

“No, wait. What are you up to today?”

“Well, I’m actually going to Coyote Run Trail.” She stood and gathered her belongings.

“Do you need a lift? I can take you on my motorcycle.”

“As tempting as that sounds since I’ve never been on one, I do have a rental car.” She pointed toward the parking lot with the hand that held her phone, and her courteous smile faded. “Oh, shoot. My phone has sand on it.”

“I can take care of that.” He snatched it from her without asking and wiped it on his swimming trunks. “There. It should be okay now. I’d love to take you out to dinner tonight. Ever been to Maritana? Want me to put my number in your contacts?”

That brought forth a curious smile as she pilfered the phone back. Mine! “Does that ever work?”

“No idea. I’ve never used that line until now.” Lindsay’s eyes darted nervously around the beach. Christ, now she looked all sweet and innocent. Marcello was only in California for a few more days until he returned to his own real life. But the thoughts running through his mind were anything but sweet and innocent. He studied Lindsay’s full, pink lips, and wondered how they’d feel against his or, better yet, wrapped around and sucking his hard dick. “A rental car, you say? Are you from out of town?”

He's good. “I’m visiting from Las Vegas.”

“I am visiting from Las Vegas as well.”

The proverbial ice broke when Lindsay burst out into hysterical laughter; a sort of half-chuckle, half-sputter. “Oh yeah? How come this doesn’t happen in Vegas?”

“What?”

She bounced on her toes. “Random people coming up and introducing themselves to you like this.”

“Guys approaching you?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’ve done it here or there a couple of times in Las Vegas.” He brushed a damp lock of long hair away from her face. “You’ve never been approached in Las Vegas? I’m sure you have.”

“I feel like it’s too – yeah, but I feel like, I don’t know. I feel like it’s different.”

“The vibe here is more laid-back, for sure. People aren’t upset about gambling away their life savings.” Holding her gaze, he ran his hands up her arms, from wrist to shoulder. “But then again, this is the beach, so what do you expect? I mean, beaches – by law – must be laid-back.”

Lindsay gave a half shrug. “So, you live in Vegas?”

“I was born there, so yeah. Summerlin. But I’m here on a work trip, visiting friends. A lot of my friends live in this area. I usually stay in Costa Mesa whenever I’m here. How long are you in town? And where in Vegas do you live?”

“Henderson,” she lied. “I’m leaving on Friday. Been here since Sunday.”

“What did you do last night?”

“Last night?” Lindsay crossed her arms, combating the breezy Pacific trade winds, and her eyes turned into crinkled slits. “We went to … Café Vincenzo’s.”

“Very nice. Did they just open that one here? Or has it been here a while?”

She glanced at her phone and started thumbing out a text. “I’m not sure when it opened.”

Uh oh; he was losing her. “Look, I’m a good guy. Not a creep. A safe bet. A good choice. The best choice.” His brows danced once Lindsay again made eye contact. “Dinner? Let me show you a good time tonight, my love. Please, I’ll make it worth your while. You won’t regret it.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Don’t be afraid to hurt someone’s feelings. Put your foot down. Be firm. “I already have a boyfriend.”

 <> <> <> <> <>

Donald felt the soothing water cascade over his body, washing off the surf wax and sand, the salt and coconut sunscreen as, at the next faucet, Lindsay did the same.

Though by now he knew, intimately, every nook and cranny of her short, turbocharged body, Donald couldn’t help but sneak peeks at his girlfriend every chance he got. Water from the beach access shower splashed down onto Lindsay’s sun-bronzed shoulders and slender torso, drizzling all over – and through – her neon bikini before dripping down her sleek legs. If you looked up “world’s most beautiful woman” on the Internet, chances are (according to Donald, that is) there would be a photograph of Lindsay Anastacio attached for reference: the quintessential girl next door – imminently approachable with her bright blue eyes, shiny blonde locks, hourglass figure, and beaming smile. And she was his; all his.

Well, not quite. …

Donald loved this time of day – late afternoon, early evening – the sky a heady blue while the horizon was tinged with hints of orange and black. The shadows fell on Lindsay’s body and, even as he paraded about in his board shorts, feeling better than ever after having lost over a hundred pounds in eleven months, Donald couldn’t believe that this was his life – and that he was Lindsay’s man.

Sex on a surfboard. Another reason he loved this time of day was because Donald knew, if the past several days were any indication, that after drying off and having a beer or two and getting a bite to eat, they would drive back to their high-rise hotel on Pacific Coast Highway.

There, they would slip from their bathing suits and tumble into each other’s arms, naked and sunburned, sore from their day of swimming, surfing, and hiking, but more than ready for another hour – or five – in bed, putting in another kind of “workout” all their own.

Donald turned their shower nozzles off and glanced down at Lindsay’s face. “In the mood for a Modelo?”

“When am I not? You?”

“Of course,” he said, handing her a warm, thirsty towel. “I’m just really glad, baby boo, that we’ve gotten to spend so much time here at the beach this week. I know Laguna Beach has always been on your to-do list. That’s why I suggested we have a mini vacation here while you had your time off from work.”

“I’m glad, too, Donnie. Thank you. You’re always thinking of me.” She tickled his forearm and ran the towel over her doused hair. “You’re way too sweet.”

He inched closer, helping to dry off the remainder of her body. “I just wish you’d stop attracting every man within a fifty-mile radius every time I step away from you.”

“Hey, I didn’t ask for that guy to hit on me earlier! That playa was smooth. As. Fuck.” Lindsay gave Donald’s shoulder a spirited shake before offering to dry him off as well. “I can’t help it that I look like a sex on a stick. Or that I’m a dick magnet.”

“No,” he corrected her, “you look like a sex on a stick when you wear those platform heels of yours. You’re sex on a surfboard now. Get it right, will you?” He inclined his head, his eyebrows knitted together. “Dick magnet? Really? Where did that one come from?”

They dressed, Lindsay sliding into her favorite coverup, a black sundress Donald purchased for her during their three-day excursion to Lake Havasu, Arizona, in April.

It was comfortable while still dressy and, with her brown sandals and tanned skin, served as the ideal outfit for happy hour at Palomar.

“We’ll take two Modelos,” Lindsay told the server, who asked both she and Donald to show proof of age. Lindsay returned Donald’s smile as they settled at the cramped outdoor table. He looked crisp and clean in his soft blue surfer’s hoodie, such a far cry from the overweight, uncoordinated boy she knew him as during their school-age years in Citronelle. While Donald would never grace the cover of GQ or be a social media heartthrob, he was a different person now – healthier, cool, confident, assured, yet still retained all the loyal, genuine qualities which made Lindsay fall in love with him to begin with.

“A surfer’s special for the happy couple,” the waitress said, placing a pair of cold, frosty mugs on the table. “Enjoy you two!”

They sat and chitchatted, the oceanic winds further drying their hair as the day’s activities left Lindsay’s limbs pleasantly sore and rubbery. Like the sun on her hair or the salt on her skin or Donald’s tongue buzzing away at her pussy, it was one of her favorite new sensations, and one she could hardly believe she lived without for so long.

“Look at you,” Donald said after a healthy gulp. “Moving up the corporate ladder, huh? The new general manager at Happy Ending Ranch. Soon-to-be owner.”

“Don’t remind me,” Lindsay quipped, finishing off her brew and snagging a pretzel.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried, babe. You’re overthinking this. I have all the confidence in the world in you. I’m serious. And despite what you believe, so does Colt and Pamela. Otherwise, they wouldn’t even give you this opportunity. They want you to succeed. They’re giving you every opportunity to succeed. You’re strong, you’re independent, you’re put-together. You got this.”

“I like your positive attitude, Donnie.” She toed her sandals off and slid sandy feet across his. “I need all the positive vibes I can get.”

“I learned to be positive from you. You taught me.” He pressed back with his own feet under the table, tenderly, indicating he had more on his mind than beer and pretzels. After all, they’d be separated again in two days – her in Flagstone, him in Citronelle.

Lindsay felt the familiar tingle that had crept up beneath her bikini bottoms, like clockwork, this time every day this week. Perhaps they could skip dinner tonight, or order room service later, and go back to the hotel now. Lindsay had her sights set on dessert, which would arrive once she tugged down Donald’s baggies in the privacy of their suite.

The server, spotting those telltale signs, hurried over with their check just as Lindsay was reaching for a crumpled twenty-dollar bill in her cinch sack.

“Isn’t it my turn?” Donald asked, popping the final pretzel.

“I think you bought yesterday,” Lindsay said as she waited for the change. “What does it matter?” She left five as a tip and rose to her feet.

“It doesn’t, really,” he murmured in her ear as they drifted off the Palomar deck, his arm snug around her side, before grabbing their boards for the walk to their rental car.

Though Donald struggled at times with navigating their long-distance relationship (and especially coming to grips with what Lindsay did for a living), it felt good to have a social life and be actively dating rather than on the outside looking in as he’d been pre-Lindsay. Like his new affinity for drinking beer and shredding the pounds at the local gym instead of video gaming in his bedroom, it was one more thing he had Lindsay to be thankful for.

When apart, they spoke on the telephone for two hours each evening, often overnight, and traded constant texts. Lindsay made him feel like he mattered.

Donald couldn’t believe his good fortune. Glancing around Laguna Beach this week – which was filled with some of the most beautiful women in the world, including tourists wanting to show off, celebrities, athletes, and (let’s be honest) trophy wives – he realized he had the most beautiful, sparkling, and magical woman of them all.

He was a lucky, lucky man.

In fact, Lindsay’s superpowers even seemed to have extended to making him forget about the problems he had back home with his parents. I really need to get out of there. Donald never imagined there would be anything that could take his mind off the anger he felt at his mother and father’s continued attempts to control him and sabotage his happiness. Son, you don’t need to be dating, of all people, that Anastacio girl. Chances are, you’re gonna catch a disease from her and end up in the hospital again.

It was an ongoing battle and not something Donald easily handled, but Lindsay’s presence was helping put it on the back burner. The girl was simply magic. There was no other word for it.

*

“Good evening, young Mr. Stanlick,” Rodrigo, the doorman, greeted Donald as he opened the door. The man’s gaze shifted and he tipped his hat. “Mi’lady.”

“Good evening, Rodrigo. How are you doing tonight, my man?” Pausing for a moment, Donald allowed Lindsay to pass through before they reattached hands and entered the posh hotel lobby.

He still couldn’t stop marveling at Lindsay’s beauty. Donald had been admiring her in the sundress, which she’d been in and out of repeatedly all day, and the way the fabric hugged her curves like a second skin. Now, though, all Donald could think about was getting it off of her.

And the string bikini underneath it too.

They were brisk, making their way via the elevator to the sixty-third floor. Anticipation had since taken over and turned Donald’s mind to mush as he unlocked the suite. He’d been waiting for this moment since, well, they’d last made love twenty-four hours ago. But it wasn’t just about their amazing physical connection. Donald cared about Lindsay more than words could ever say. It dumbfounded him that activities such as online gaming and social media stalking once controlled his daily life. Rotting away in his room, eating junk food, and masturbating to porn was all he knew. That was all in the past, though, as Lindsay held both his heart and undivided attention now.

Wasting no time, he closed and latched the door behind them and stepped up behind Lindsay, gliding his arms around her waist and burying his face in her lustrous hair. God, she felt amazing. Firm, yet soft, and warm to the touch, Lindsay ground her ass against Donald’s pelvis and began to roll.

Flattening his hands over her abdomen, Donald spread kisses along the back of her neck. She groaned and leaned into his lips, bringing her own hands to her stomach, and interlacing her fingers with his. True, tomorrow would be the last full day they had together, at least for a while, as Lindsay had an early morning flight to Las Vegas Friday. She had a few errands to run and needed to get her medical labs taken care of before returning to work on Saturday. If anything, Donald had to get these carnal urges out of his system before it was too late.

He intensified the pressure on her neck and raised his hands to cup her breasts. Her hands stayed woven with his as they traveled northward, and when they’d come to rest on her breasts, he felt her hands press into his, encouraging him. Even more enticing to Donald, Lindsay groaned and tilted her head back upon his shoulder, her nipples springing to life under his touch.

Donald stepped around, in front of Lindsay, and like a heat-seeking missile, launched his mouth at hers. He bombarded her in a kiss so passionate that he felt in danger of losing himself entirely in this girl. But would that be such a bad thing? On the other hand, that process seemed to run its course all those many years ago when he first saw her in elementary school, didn’t it? Could he be any more of a prisoner of love than he already was?

“Baby boo,” the twenty-one-year-old murmured as he slid the silken black straps from her shoulders, “I’ve been dreaming about this all day. Holy kamoly, you are so hot. Filthy hot. I want you so much.”

Lindsay moaned in response, and that alone was enough to trigger all his sensors. However, Donald was truly catapulted into another dimension when she rasped back, “All day, Donnie, all I’ve thought is being alone with you, being naked with you, having sex with you. As much fun as we have on all our little trips, at the end of the day, all we really need is a nice cozy bed.” She trapped her lower lip between her teeth and grinned. “Or the backseat of a car.”

Every cylinder in Donald fired as he pulled Lindsay to him, his lips and tongue again pillaging her mouth. When he feared he may spontaneously combust, Donald broke the kiss and knelt before Lindsay, and slid the flimsy sundress the rest of the way down her body. She stepped out of it delicately and expertly, standing before him in her tiny wisp of a bikini, the epitome of beauty and grace.

He tugged her G-string down as well, opening the gates to paradise. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. I need you so much. I want you so …” Donald had no qualms that Lindsay put a stop to his torrent of words by latching onto his hair with both hands and jamming her pussy flush to his face. He was lost, just like that; lost in passion, lost in sensation, and especially devotion, but his tongue instinctively began licking as only it could.

“Oh, Donnie.” Lindsay moaned and arched her spine, already squirming under his potent care. He wasn’t bashful, licking and sucking, fanning Lindsay’s libido to life like a beachside bonfire. “Oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Pressure gathered. Sensations swirled. Since last summer, Lindsay had spent countless hours teaching Donald how to perform oral sex just the way she preferred it. He was, without a doubt, her most prized pupil. “Oh my God. Donnie, I … I … fuuuuuck …” The orgasm had been closer than she anticipated. Lindsay wasn’t ready and it surprised her, taking every muscle. Every thought. Her fingers dug into Donald’s scalp, her body a shooting star. “Oh, you’re so good at that. So good,” she said, riding it out. “And it’s not done yet. Hold on, hold on, okay. Wowwwww.” Her fingers loosened. “Oh, Donnie, baby. Thank you. Oh … my God.” She pinned him with a feral gaze. “No one can make me come like you do with that Tarzan mouth of yours.”

He slanted a playful eyebrow. “You expect me to believe that? Soon, you’ll exceed three hundred clients.”

“Of course you should believe it.” She bopped his head and her eyes sparkled with gratitude. “I ain’t lying.”

*

Lindsay swept Donald across the room, pressing him fiercely up against the wall. Her eyes locked on his the entire time, she saw them widen with unbridled desire. A slow, sexy grin materialized. Lindsay made her intentions crystal clear, grabbing his cock through his shorts with the force of the ocean, constant and demanding.

She brushed her lips over his. “I think I’m gonna have your dick for dinner instead.” Lindsay dropped to her knees, wanting to reciprocate the earlier favor. “Gonna suck on it all night. I hope you have plenty of cum for me.” She yanked his shorts down and dragged her tongue over the stiff, bulbous head, feeling him swell in her fist. “If not, I may have to punish you.” He groaned and flattened his palms on the wall behind him as she lavished him from base to tip. His forearms vibrated, his legs trembled. She frigged and sucked and kissed and licked, knowing which buttons to push, when to scale back and surge forward in order to provide superlative pleasure.

“So good.” His hips churned to an unheard beat. “That’s it. Christ, that feels so good, Lindsay. God, I love you, baby. I love you so much!” He inhaled a sharp breath, now clutching at her skull. “Oh God, I love you.”

Lindsay ventured lower, licking his balls, and taking them into her mouth. Her eyes noticed Donald grasp hold of his shaft with right hand and squeeze. Something inside her snapped. She licked around his hand and over his fingers, transitioning into an element she was accustomed to, feeling dirty and sexy and wanting to get even dirtier.

“Stroke,” emerged from her lips, a direct order.

Donald’s chin fell to his chest with a hiss, his eyes boring into her. “I’m trying to keep from coming.”

Lindsay loved all the hungry noises she’d elicited from him so far, the way Donald’s hips pumped, and how his hands felt in her hair. She again nuzzled a testicle and brought him straight to the edge of his sanity.

“I want you …” Her face burrowed deeper, and she slid her tongue along his scrotum. “… to come …” Donald jerked more upright, if that was even possible, at the sudden, moist sensations being lathed upon his anus. “… in my mouth.”

His eyes black as night, Donald wagged his head up and down in submission, and started stroking.

Lindsay adored this racy side of her personality. It was her trademark at the brothel, no doubt. It felt empowering, but things increased tenfold whenever she could reach this headspace and explore it with Donald because never in her life had she come anywhere close to loving or trusting a man as much as she did him.

When she saw the first sign of pre-cum ooze from his shaft, Lindsay’s thoughts obliterated, and she took him to the back of her throat in an instant. His pelvis convulsed as she positioned his hips to her liking so her mouth could have its wicked way.

Lindsay found her rhythm, drawing from every naughty cocksucking she’d ever performed, both professional and recreational; sharp fingernails clawing at Donald’s balls; lewd, wet sounds echoing throughout the room as her head bobbed back and forth, furious and without shame.

“Jesus, baby,” he spurred her on.

Her index finger again found that special spot that invariably sent Donald soaring beyond the brink of madness. His legs bowed. Lindsay whimpered around his dick, sucking faster, harder, lost the barbaric grunts coming from her beloved man. His thighs flexed, his cock throbbed. In her next breath, Lindsay finally got her wish – Donald’s body quaking and shuddering, clenching tight and hot, a surge of liquid goodness assailed her mouth.

“Give me your cum!”

His sticky semen came in tornadic bursts, so thick and fierce that even Lindsay couldn’t swallow it fast enough. Donald’s cock fell from her lips with a pop, streams of white jizz frothing and seeping around it. She dove again, vacuuming the very fortitude from it until Donald withdrew and collapsed against the wall behind him, spent, stroking and smearing his love all over Lindsay’s blissful, smiling face.

<> <> <> <> <>

“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” Lindsay complained as she raised herself off the bed and felt Donald’s hand slip from her shoulder. She glanced back at him, fast asleep, and forced a grin, but then winced and ventured off to the washroom.

Lindsay splashed water across her face and inspected herself in the mirror. Wow, what a night. It was, without a doubt, the most intensive bout of lovemaking she and Donald had ever shared together. Girl, you look like you just took on the entire basketball team. Donnie did this to you! Naked, Lindsay turned sideways. Looks like you got your whole body slam dunked too.

Only one more day with Donnie. Lindsay sniffed her nose and checked the time on her smartphone: 3:36 a.m. I’m not looking forward to Saturday. Could she do it? Could Lindsay step into Colt’s shoes, grab the brothel by its horns, and take control? You know Amelia and Karma are gonna do whatever they can to walk all over you.

What had she been thinking last night, believing each of Donald’s statements in between their various erotic escapades about how prepared she was? What a great job she would do? The boss she would be? All her other worries came tumbling back to her too. Eventually facing city hall, at the sale hearing, and their firing line of questions. Lindsay cried for five minutes, blaming herself, not believing she had it in her. Mom and Dad hate your guts. You’re a disgrace to your own family. Evie is dead because of you.

Soon, she realized she didn’t really mean a word of that; Lindsay was simply overwhelmed. Frightened. And my back is in pain. It had been an ongoing issue for several months, but it was manageable, and not too severe. Some days are worse than others. Lindsay had to be careful, though, as she wanted no part of what happened to Pamela when she fractured her spine with a client three years ago. Good luck, girl, tryin’ to talk yourself into takin’ less dick.

Aside from Donnie, it’s all you live for.

Besides, who said hoein’ would ever be easy?

“Donnie? Wake up, Donnie.” Moments later, Lindsay was a bundle of nerves sitting beside him on the bed, rustling his shoulder. “Donnie? I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Sensing her mood, Donald zinged upright in the darkened suite, bringing Lindsay’s hand to his mouth, and pressing his lips to it. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare? Talk to me.”

“I love you, baby, and I don’t want us to be apart ever again. There’s no reason for us to be apart.” Her voice cracking, she squeezed his wrist. “But more than anything, I need your help. The sense of security that you’ve always given me. I need it now more than ever before.” Lindsay’s blue eyes raised up beneath her long, wet, inky lashes. “I want you to come to Nevada with me on Friday and take a job working behind the scenes at the brothel.” Lindsay flicked her thumb against the inside of his wrist, tears pooling in her eyes. “Will you do that for me, Donnie? Please, I won’t be able to make it without you.”

((End of Chapter Forty-Three))