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Authors: Alexandra O'Hurley

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BOOK: The Lottery
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She finally looked up from her desk, squinting her eyes as she
looked him over from head to toe. He felt like squirming under her scrutiny, as
she obviously looked for some flaw she could condemn him for, as she did when
he was younger, standing before her in this very room. But she said nothing.

Finally, after several more awkward moments, she spoke. “I assume
you are here unannounced looking for money as your father always did. He stood
in that very spot so many times I think he wore a spot on the floor with his
squirming. At least you have the good sense to stand firm and tall before
begging me for money.”

The knot in his stomach doubled in size. She must have smelled
the desperation on him. But he stood strong knowing the reason he begged was
worthy, unlike his father.

“Yes, Grandmother, I come begging for money. Why not just be
blunt about it. But, adverse to what you believe, it is not to pay some
gambling debt or other scandalous thing; it is to save Bailey’s life.”

“And just what is she sick with this time?”

“This time? Whatever do you mean?”

“Your father used that very excuse so many times; I assumed the
child would be dead by now.”

Ethan stood dumbstruck, not believing the depths his own father’s
corruption had gone. He had seen the depravity as he had gone through the
estate, but never had he imagined Will going to such lengths as to lie about
the well-being of his own children. “This is no excuse, Grandmother. After
paying Father’s debts, paying for Bailey’s care, paying for the estate, and no
longer having an income, there is little to no money left. We have had to sell off
most of the land surrounding the house, and the house is practically all we
have left. Bailey has been sick for several months now, and she now needs
surgery to remove several tumors from her brain.”

“Brain cancer? Well, I will admit that’s a new one for her. Although,
you were always more flamboyant than your father. How much do you owe?”

Ethan felt ill, knowing he would never reason with this woman. She
only saw her son standing before her, not him. And she evidently believed he
had been cast from the same mold.

“If you could see past your own assumptions, you would see I am
not Will Spears. If you had bothered to look into our lives in the past years,
you would have seen how hard the two of us have worked trying to salvage our
home. I know I was a spoiled brat; I was given everything I wanted, and I didn’t
understand the value of anything. But living the life I did and then watching my
sister wither away before my very eyes, well, that tends to make someone grow
up. But considering you have never taken an interest in seeing how we were
doing, seeing if we even lived or died, I don’t know why I even took the time
or energy to ask you to try and save your own flesh and blood. You never cared
when my parents were alive, so why would you care now? I am sorry for having
wasted your time and my own. Good day to you,
Mrs. Spears
.”

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

Karlyn stumbled over her rug as she dragged herself to the door.
Since dinner the night before had been a disaster, and she had drank several
glasses of wine to numb the pain. She had heard from her mother so many times
that she was an embarrassment to the family and she would never make anything
of herself. Over time, she almost believed the snide comments. Wine helped her
forget.

By the time she had gotten home, she was much too amped to go to
sleep, and she used the pain of the incident, fueled by years of mistreatment,
to paint a large canvas. Up until the wee hours of the morning, she was
definitely not appreciating the early morning wakeup call at her front door.

She still had sleep in one eye and could barely see. She was
still wearing paint spattered clothing. Sure she looked horrid; she now regretted
falling asleep after long hours of work as she spotted paint in her long blonde
hair. But considering the audacity of someone holding down the buzzer on the
front door, she hoped she could frighten them a little with her anger and her
bedraggled look.

Whipping the door open, she was ready to start screaming at
whoever was standing there. As soon as she opened her mouth, she realized there
was a crowd of people at her door. As well as a television camera, a lighting
person, a smarmy looking woman with a microphone in her hand…all aimed her way.
She self consciously combed her hands through her hair and looked down at her
attire, realizing one of her worst nightmares had just come true.

“Congratulations!” the crowd bellowed.

“For?” Karlyn was sure they had the wrong apartment.

“Karlyn Bowman, you are our winner! You have won the United
Federation Lottery! We are here to congratulate you, as well as introduce you
to your prize.” The sleazy announcer turned and motioned to someone behind the
group clustered around the door. “You have won one calendar year with a hot,
sexy, man toy.”

A tall, handsome man approached her and her knees went weak. He plastered
a smile that did not appear to be very sincere, but it was still devastating. The
smile, of course, did not meet his emerald green eyes, but they were still
stunning. She had very little interaction with men; even her brother was not a
large part of her life, so being in the presence of one as gorgeous as him had
an effect on her. Most men she had met over the years were plain.

It seemed he had an effect on every female in the group as many
of them looked upon him with blatant desire written all over their faces. Karlyn
looked over the crowd, realizing the surreal nature of the moment.

“You have got to be kidding me. I told Sam I would never win and
there was no point.” Catching herself before she mumbled some very
incriminating words, she looked up into the camera and started to laugh. Not
just a giggle or a chuckle, she let out in bellows of nervous laughter, to the
point her eyes began to tear and she had to double herself over to hold her
stomach.

When she finally got a hold of herself, she straightened, and
looked at the shocked crowd around her. Evidently, no one had responded with
crazed laughter before, but Karlyn was always unique. Mr. Emerald Eyes just
stood there, with a shocked look on his face.

“You can edit this all out, right?”

“This is live television.” The oily looking, thick set announcer
had thick layers of plastered makeup all over her face which was beginning to
slide off with the heat of the bright lights directed their way. She sighed
under her breath, and then smiled an unfriendly smile in Karlyn’s direction,
before turning and facing the camera. “And there is our winner, Karlyn Bowman. She
will now enjoy a year of service from studly Ethan. The next winner could be
you, so get out there and buy your tickets now, ladies. And now back to the
regularly scheduled programming.”

The lights cut off, and the camera was set down. She looked
around at the under enthused looks on the women’s faces. Most of the women
quietly collected their numerous cords and lighting fixtures while venomous
looks were directed at Karlyn, others practically drooled on themselves as they
watched the man candy…what did the announcer say his name was…Eric? Aaron? Ethan?
Yes, that was it, Ethan. Karlyn still couldn’t accept she had won and waited
for Sam to come barreling around the corner to scream, “Psych!” As they all
collected their gear, quietly murmuring the under-whelming “Congrats”, the
group moved away from the door and left, leaving Ethan still standing at her
doorway with a couple of bags at his feet.

They stood there staring at each other for what seemed like
hours, but couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes, Ethan, with one
eyebrow cocked, and his hands on his hips. She was almost ashamed, but it was
the first time she had seen a man this tasty up close and personal. Letting her
eyes roam over his lean body, enjoying the way he filled out the pair of blue
jeans, her eyes traveled from the top to the bottom and back up again. He was
all lean muscle, from the short tawny strands on top of his head to the large
booted feet that held promise for what he had inside those jeans. Hell,
promise? The bulge at his groin was all the promise any man needed to offer.

Ethan let out a soul deep sigh and asked, “Are you going to let
me in, or am I going to bunk out here in the hallway?”

“Bunk?”

“As in sleep.”

“You are going to be sleeping here?”

“Those are the guidelines of the game. I move in and fulfill your
every
fantasy
for the next year. And
you offer me food, lodging, and necessities.”

“You are going to move in and be here…a year?”

The eyebrow lifted again, and he began speaking to her like she
was a child. “You bought a ticket…for the lottery…yet you didn’t bother
learning what it entailed? Yes, I will be grabbing my bags and
hopefully
pulling them inside your
apartment, which
hopefully
is not as
dirty as you are, and I will be living in there for the year I signed up for. Believe
me, at this moment, it is the last thing I want to do.”

“Okay, so the details are hazy, you don’t have to be so rude.” Turning,
she started to walk in through the door, hurt a little that her present was
apparently prettier on the outside. “I just didn’t realize that you would
actually live here, nor did I realize it was for an entire year. But don’t let
me stop you, by all means gather your junk and drag it inside my dirty
apartment.” Halting, she stopped him, placing a finger into the middle of his
yummy, broad chest. “And by the way, it isn’t dirt, its paint. If you are going
to live here you had better get used to it.” She knew her crabbiness and her
mouth was all driven by the hellacious hangover she had, because under normal
circumstances, his words would have turned her into the mouse Sam always claimed
her to be.


Big
difference. Dirt,
paint, it’s all a mess.” He pulled his bags inside the door and dropped them. He
was so tall and wide, he barely fit through the half opened door, and it made
her insides melt. He stood with his hands on his hips, and looked around her
space. Looking back at her, he glared. “Where do I go from here? Where is our
room?”


Our
room? Umm, I don’t
know.”

He looked at her like she had sprouted a second head. “You don’t
have a bedroom?”

“Of course I have a bedroom. I just have no idea where you will
be sleeping since I didn’t think I would win; I did not make arrangements for
you.”

“Well, if you have a bedroom, then I have a bedroom. What is
there to arrange?” He finally gazed past her and spotted the large artist’s
loft beyond. “Oh, well, artist rustic…how…
quaint
.”

The way his nose curled up when he said the word quaint further
pissed her off. “I’m so sorry my lodgings are not up to your standards, but it
is what it is. I am a painter, and I live and work out of this studio. I live completely
alone, and was not expecting a year-long house guest, so plans will have to be
made as to where you will sleep and all that.”

“Great. What do you have against me sharing your bedroom? I will
be sharing your bed at night. That’s usually the plan.”

“Sharing? Mine?” Karlyn blushed. “Can you..uh...excuse me for a
moment?”

Before she could pull away to compose herself, she felt his hot
fingers wrap around her wrist, and she was pulled against his muscular chest.
The air was knocked out of her lungs as she looked up into his face, noting the
perfect curve of his lips and the deep cut angles of his face. She could lose
herself all day just staring at him.

She had seen pictures of men this gorgeous, but had always
thought they were a myth. As his sweet smelling breath warmed her face, drawing
her attention back to that perfect mouth, she felt the hot brand of his cock
resting on her stomach. Tingling sensation raced to her nipples and her mound,
as she watched transfixed while his mouth descended towards hers.

Pulling back, afraid of what was happening; she attempted to pull
from his arms. His steely grasp was too strong and she could not free herself
from his grip. A tremor flitted down her whole body at the strength he seemed
to wield, and she felt dampness spread in her panties. His lips neared hers
again, and she pulled back once more, but not enough and she felt the soft
graze of his mouth against hers. A soft sigh escaped her lips, and he appeared
to take the sound as he acquiescence. He pulled her tightly to him, the hard
ridge of his manhood showing her how ready he was to fulfill the promise his
kisses made.

Heat erupted all over her body as his hands skidded down her back
and onto her bottom, and the only thought that crossed her mind was taking off
her clothes and allowing him to finish what he had started.

As one cool hand snaked up the back of her shirt and moved to the
clasp of her bra, she was reawakened. Pushing against his hard chest, she took
a deep, calming breath, attempting to cool the ardor he had flamed.

Backing away, she could not look him in the eye; embarrassment
over succumbing to his charms within five minutes of him walking through the
door was nearly devastating.

Karlyn rushed up the antique wrought iron stairs to the artist
loft. Racing to the vid phone on the far wall, she called Sam. Having
absolutely no idea what to do with a man, let alone one as sexy as this one
was, regardless if he was a complete ass, she needed help and fast. Not like a
lesbian would be able to do much better, but hell, it was all she had at this
point. Sam took her time answering, but looked nearly as exhausted as Karlyn
felt.

“Jesus H. Christ, can’t I get some fucking sleep?” Sam rubbed her
fists into her eyes and looked through squinted eyes at the screen before her. “Oh,
good morning Karlyn. I thought you were someone else.”

BOOK: The Lottery
10.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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