Paranormal Erotic Romance Box Set

By Lola Swain

Snuggle up and get ready for a ride of fantasy filled with lust, adventure and yes, even love. Best-selling authors Lola Swain and Ava Ayers bring you some of the most exciting paranormal fantasy erotic romance novels published in this four novel box set. Your journey begins with a first-class stay at an ancient hotel filled with sexy apparitions with shocking secrets in Immoral Beloved, then you are a voyeur into the lives of the rich, entitled and psychotic in the dark, erotic Parawhormal Activity, next, you spend the evening with a hot, Alpha inquisitor well-versed in the art of passionate punishment in The Inquisitor’s Song and finally, frolic with the Devil’s brood during their twisted exploits in The Master Captive Chronicles. Your voyage is bursting with a delicious, tense yearning that fills you with an insatiable desire for your own hot expedition that will end in your release. Onward, friends. But, a caveat: this book is meant for mature audiences and all characters are eighteen and over. Now, climb on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lola Swain
• Release date: Oct 19, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301072453

Lola Swain

Lola Swain is a best-selling author of erotica, erotic romance and mainstream fiction. Her works include the wildly popular Ties That Bind Chronicles, the To Protect And Service series, the Eight Maids A Milking Steampunk fairy tales and the Fifty Shades of Gay series. Lola Swain’s books appear digitally and in print on Amazon, Barnes and Noble,Apple and other retailers worldwide. If you would like to receive information on new releases, promotional codes for free or discounted books or to chat with Lola Swain, drop her a line at [e-mail] and sign up for her mailing list. You can also catch up with Lola Swain by visiting her blog at lolaswain.blogspot.com or on Twitter @LolaSwainAuthor. Viva La Kink! XOXO

Book preview

Paranormal Erotic Romance Box Set

By Lola Swain and Ava Ayers

Copyright 2013 Lola Swain, Ava Ayers and Pulp Friction Publishing, Inc.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidence.

Snuggle up and get ready for a ride of fantasy filled with lust, adventure and yes, even love. Best-selling authors Lola Swain and Ava Ayers bring you some of the most exciting paranormal fantasy erotic romance novels published in this four novel box set. Your journey begins with a first-class stay at an ancient hotel filled with sexy apparitions with shocking secrets in Immoral Beloved, then you are a voyeur into the lives of the rich, entitled and psychotic in the dark, erotic Parawhormal Activity, next, you spend the evening with a hot, Alpha inquisitor well-versed in the art of passionate punishment in The Inquisitor’s Song and finally, frolic with the Devil’s brood during their twisted exploits in The Master Captive Chronicles. Your voyage is bursting with a delicious, tense yearning that fills you with an insatiable desire for your own hot expedition that will end in your release. Onward, friends. But, a caveat: this book is meant for mature audiences and all characters are eighteen and over. Now, climb on.

Table of Contents

Immoral Beloved, Ava Ayers

Parawhormal Activity, Lola Swain

The Inquisitor’s Song, Ava Ayers

The Master Captive Chronicles, Lola Swain

Immoral Beloved

By Ava Ayers

For She who knows the prize she thinks she won is a curse.

PART I

I try to reach into your page and breathe it back, but life is a trick, life is a kitten in a sack.

Anne Sexton

My life ended on June 23, 1967. It was also the day it began.

My name is Sophia Pearson-Therrault and on that day, I was a bride. Today, I am a ghost. An apparition existing between worlds on a strand like gum that stretches from the bottom of a shoe and hot asphalt. I am that which is between. The am that I am.

And there is no more pain or panic or twisting in the wind. Gone are the days of trying to please, begging for acceptance and hoping to be loved. No longer do I strive to find completion because I am complete. In a way that was both dumbly simple and mind-bogglingly complex, in a turn of the screw, I transformed.

It was the union of three that forced my elevation: the love of a man, a passionate billionaire playboy, whose need to possess overcame his reluctance to love, a night when the Gods entered and fucked the childish out of me and my friendship with Anthony Porcco, a boy who died in 1948 after eating twenty-four poisoned baked potatoes.

I reside at the Battleroy Hotel, a grand hotel on Cape Cod. It was here that my husband Brandt Therrault and I honeymooned. And on that day, June 23, 1967, he left, but I remain. But before I was this supernatural thing, I was just Sophia Pearson...innocent, naive, neurotic and certainly no candidate for what I became.

I was the youngest of three children, born to a wealthy family from Marblehead. My brother and sister were quite a bit older than me and my parents referred to me privately as the accident.

Very much in the public eye, my parents stressed the importance of applying a heavy-handed veneer of perfection to everything we did or said. As you can imagine, the Pearsons were a total sham.

My father was as much a ghost then as I am now. My mother believed she would never be seen unless she damn-well made sure she was heard.

I was defined and confined by my mother through a series of metaphors and idioms. I could not take the ballet lessons I so desperately wanted because I had two left feet, I was constantly admonished for having my head in the clouds and that I must save myself for marriage as no man will buy the whole cow when he can get the milk for free.

I spent much time alone in my room reading, which was ridiculed by my parents as frivolous and self-serving.

Where’s Sophia now? My father said on occasion.

Reading, again. My mother said as if she had a mouthful of rotten teeth.

I longed more than anything to escape and the means to do it presented itself to me when I was fifteen-years-old and I was spotted by an agent from the Ford Modeling Agency. After this, my mother seemed to be enthusiastic toward me for the first time in my life. It pleased me so much when I finally won my mother’s endorsement, gaining her approval became my second job.

My parents were so tightly enmeshed in their own dysfunctions they had little time to encourage me to do anything other than what would be the easiest thing for them to support. And because I was told I could do no other thing, I resigned myself to the myth that my calling was to be a model and soon after, a wife. And, of course, a model wife.

The secret to your career, my mother said, is to work as much as possible. Then, you need to find a man. Your looks are the first thing to go. Is that a wrinkle?

I crammed more work into four years than most people do in a lifetime. And I hated every second of it. Even though I travelled quite a bit and fancied myself a cosmopolitan girl, I was scared to move to Manhattan by myself. The compromise was for my father to purchase a beautiful penthouse apartment for me in the heart of Boston. I met my roommate Katt Lawson during a visit to Ford and through her, I thought I had a shot to be the confident, successful girl I wanted to be.

Katt was a fellow agency girl and originally from London. A true bohemian, Katt was sophisticated, free loving and always up for a party. I marveled at the way she never backed down or away from anything. When anyone asked me what I did, I apologetically mumbled that I was a model whereas Katt shouted it from the roof.

Man, did she ever try like hell to make me shed my awkward skin.

She dragged me to every party she was invited to and used to coach me while she made me stare at my reflection in the mirror.

Look at yourself, Katt said as she held her mirror to my face. You are fucking beautiful, but your attitude conveys ugly duckling.

I’m not like you, I said and sighed.

Despite my attributes, I was hopeless when it came to men. Every function I went to started out the same: four or five handsome men gathered around me, I interviewed each man to see if they would please my mother and one by one, they drifted away, never to be seen again. I was to men what the Titanic was to its unfortunate passengers.

The only men who stuck through my clumsiness were the predators. I had the men who were only interested in my body, but when I made it clear that this cow’s milk was not free, they disappeared. And then there were the men who gleaned they could set themselves up financially through me, but Katt scared those guys away.

In April of 1967, Katt booked a series of jobs that kept her in Europe for five weeks.

I can’t believe you’re leaving me, I said to Katt as she sat on her suitcase and tried to close the over-stuffed box.

Five weeks, Sophia, Katt said.

But what will I do without you?

Oh, you will pine and eat bad food and mope around with your nose shoved in a book. You will probably not venture outside these walls except to work or visit with your destructive parental figures, she said. But that will be done when I come back, right?

Perhaps I’ll prove you wrong, I said.

But as she usually was, Katt’s prophecy proved spot on. But by the second week, I decided to shove my nose in a book in a place other than our apartment.

It was in Boston, down Newbury Street, I met Nellie Daniels.

We are all born marked for evil.

Charles Baudelaire

On the day I met Nellie Daniels, I sat at the counter in the coffee shop where she worked reading a suspenseful and juicy romance novel.

I’ve read that too, she said as she refilled my coffee mug.

I looked up from my book, gave her a half-smile and went back to my reading.

Didn’t you just want to die when Officer Carlson revealed that Jamie was Mike’s killer? she said.

I slammed the book shut and stared at her. She looked down at the countertop and picked at a dried blob of ketchup on the Formica.

I’m sorry, she said. I always manage to stick my foot in it.

From her reaction, I realized I shot her one of my mother’s looks.

It’s okay, it was boring me anyway, I said and smiled.

Her complexion had the rough look of one of the wharf women who worked the docks icing the fish the men hauled in from the sea, but she couldn’t have been much older than me. She had a horsey smile that looked forced and her eyes were so pale blue, I imagined that she had to squint to look at anything. Her blond hair hung lifelessly on either side of her round face like a wet newspaper.

I stared at her crooked nametag. It was pinned to her blue polyester diner uniform that was stained and pilled and much too tight for her short, stocky frame. She flopped a piece of her hair over her shoulder and twisted toward me.

Nellie, she said as she jutted her bulbous breast toward my face. Nellie Daniels.

I see that, I said.

I studied the cover of my book and hoped that she would go away. I was in no mood to keep company with the unfortunate-looking girl who ruined the end of my book.

And... she said as she shoved her chubby hand in my face.

And? I said and leaned back a bit.

Your name? I mean, you know my name. What’s yours?

Oh, Sophia. Sophia Pearson, I said as she grabbed my hand.

She had a grip like a man, but it wasn’t confident. It was suffocating.

The skin on her hand was so rough it felt like an emery board. Her ragged nails were bitten to the quick and surrounded by dried, splintered cuticles. It was the most unpleasant handshake of my life. But because her hand was damp, I was able to slip mine from hers. Nellie caught me blotting my hand on my napkin and she ran her hands down the sides of her uniform.

Sorry, they sweat, she said.

It’s okay, mine do too, I said.

Come on, she said and shook her head, you’re fibbing. You don’t look like you sweat at all.

Sure, I do. Everyone does.

Hey look, I feel really bad about blurting out the end of the book. Let me get you a piece of pie. It’s fresh and it’s on me, Nellie said and grabbed a white plate from a stack on the counter.

I don’t even care about that and you’ve freed me up to start the next book on my list so, thank you, I said.

I am glad you feel that way, Nellie said and put her damp hand on top of mine. But you still get the pie. I already offered it, so you get it.

No, really, I said and slid my hand out from under hers, I don’t want the pie. Let’s just leave it at that.

But Nellie smiled and walked to the pie rack and pulled a tin out of the case.

Oh, this smells so good, Nellie said as she held the pie under her nose and took a deep breath. Man, I wish I could have a piece, but I gain weight just looking at food, honestly. That one whiff just put five pounds on my ass!

Nellie cut a big wedge of pie and plopped it on the plate as she prattled on about her propensity to gain weight when she smelled food.

Nellie, I know I told you that I do not want any pie.

She looked up at the plate and cocked her head to the side as she stared at me.

I’ve already sliced it. I can’t put it back now.

Well, I’m sorry, but I told you I don’t want any pie.

But, who says no to pie? she said as if she expected me to know the official census figures of Boston’s pie-eating citizenry.

I do, Nellie, I said and took my napkin off my lap and folded it on the counter. I have a job tomorrow modeling swimsuits. Nothing passes these lips but water, coffee and lettuce until after my shoot.

Nellie placed the plate containing the huge slice of pie on the counter in front of me. My mouth watered as I inhaled the aroma of the apples, coated thickly in a glossy glaze of vanilla and cinnamon and brown sugar.

I told you, I don’t want that, I said and pushed the plate toward her with the tip of my finger.

I know, she said as she bent forward, heaving her pendulous breasts on the counter, I’m gonna eat the pie. So, I figured you were a model, I mean, look at you.

Thank you, I said barely able to look at her as she shoveled forkfuls of pie into her mouth.

Oh, fuck me, Nellie said through her overstuffed mouth. This is almost as good as sex!

Flakes of piecrust fell from her mouth and dotted her uniform-covered breasts like dandruff.

So, she said as she licked her dry lips, where do you live?

Uh, here, I said and moved my napkin back and forth on the counter.

I think I would have noticed if you lived in the diner, silly, Nellie said as she reached over the counter and nudged me.

Boston, I said.

Well yeah, I figured. But it’s a big city. Where in Boston do you live?

Back Bay.

Ah, now we’re talking. Must be nice to be rich, she said.

Money is really not all that important, I said and sat up in my chair.

You know who says money is not all that important? People with money, Nellie said and snorted.

I should really be going, I said as I looked at my wrist. It’s getting pretty late.

How do you know? Nellie said as she swirled her finger around the remaining remnants of pie on her plate and popped her finger in her mouth. You looked at your wrist, but you’re not wearing a watch.

I...yes, habit. My watch is being repaired. I just need to go.

But she never stopped talking. For the next six hours, I learned all about Nellie Daniels and was fascinated.

She grew up in Rockport and her father was a fisherman. When he died in a bar fight three years before, her mother moved her and her brother to Lynn where they lived in an old row house. Nellie stressed the importance of getting out of there, how her mother was an abusive drunk and her brother did things to her.

Things? I said.

Yes, things, she said and bowed her head. The worst kind of things.

You mean, he rapes you?

Often.

Nellie, you have to tell someone.

She looked up at me and smiled. There was something in her ice-blue eyes that told me she had the same reluctance toward life that I did.

Tell who, Sophia...my mother? She knows what he does to me. No, I just need to get out, she said as she wiped her hands on the front of her uniform.

But get out, where? I said.

Somewhere far away from them.

Nellie looked out the glass window at the people walking by dressed in clothes that probably cost more than she made in a year.

Sophia, do you ever have those days where making a bowl of cereal seems like too much work? Did you ever just want to escape from your entire life?

She looked at me and closed her eyes.

No, I wouldn’t expect someone like you would, she said.

Of course I do, Nellie. I imagine everyone wants to escape at one time or another. For some people it’s impossible and for others, they find they can escape and sort of reinvent themselves.

That’s all I want, she said. I want to reinvent myself. And I will too. You mark my words, Sophia Pearson.

I believe you, Nellie Daniels. I’m sorry that there’s nothing I can do for you in the meantime.

And when I saw the brightness in her face, as soon as the words came out of my mouth, I wished I could stuff them back in.

Oh, she said and slammed her mannish hands on the counter, there is something you could do for me! Do you have a boyfriend? You probably do, of course.

No, I don’t, I said.

Perfect! Tomorrow, a small group of us are going out. My childhood friend Brandt’s buddy is in town from Providence and he wants to take him out. Very cool cats. How about if you come with us?

I have a photo shoot, I said.

We’re not going until late. Come on, I’m always the only girl and it would be nice to bring a friend along. It’ll be fun and something real different. I can tell you don’t get wild very often.

Very often? I never got wild at all.

I don’t think so, but thank you for the invitation.

Why not?

I have to work and I don’t know how long.

What time will it be over? We’ll just wait, she said.

No, I wouldn’t want to hold up the group. Let’s do it another time.

When?

When? Well, possibly next week some time, I--

Look, Sophia, if you don’t want to go, just say so.

It’s not that at all, Nellie.

Then what is it?

My mind was totally blank as I tried to think of why I couldn’t go out with them. My mother was the only person who pressed me as hard to do things I didn’t want to do and I always folded like a deck of cards no matter how strong I thought I was.

Sophia, if you don’t want to go out, or even be my friend, then just tell me. It’s always better to be honest about these things.

Nellie picked at a red patch of skin on the back of her hand as she stared at me. Nellie Daniels and I could not be friends. I knew I’d never in a million years bring her around my friends, I’d be too scared of how they’d judge me while they judged her. But at the same time, Nellie fascinated me the way a fetal pig floating in a jar of formaldehyde did.

Okay, sure, I said. Why not?

Really? she said and slammed the countertop. You know, I knew it the day I saw you walk in this place that you and I were destine to be friends. This may sound creepy, but every time you came in here, I tried to work up the nerve to talk to you. I’m a little shy.

I don’t get that impression, I said.

It’s true. One thing about me, Sophia, she said and leaned on the counter, I tend to get attached to people, so you have to tell me to back off, okay?

Sure.

But I’m loyal as the day is long, that’s what Brandt says. When I am your friend, you’ve got a friend to the end.

Nellie and I exchanged telephone numbers and as promised, I met her at the coffee shop the next evening. The dread I felt about our outing as I walked to the coffee shop was quickly lifted when I saw the boy standing next to Nellie as I walked through door.

Sophia, Nellie said as she ran toward me, you look beautiful.

Thank you, I said.

How do I look? she said as she did a twirl.

I searched for a word to adequately describe the drab brown dress she wore, which was not far removed from her blue waitress dress.

Radiant, I said.

Yes, she said, I think so too. Come meet the boys!

Boys, Nellie said as she dragged me by the hand over to the two guys sitting at the counter, this is Sophia Pearson. Sophia, this is Brandt Therrault and Conrad Weylin.

Both of the guys stood up from the counter, but it was Brandt who got my attention.

Pleased to meet you, Brandt said and shook my hand. This is my friend Conrad. Conrad’s in town from Providence.

Conrad was a nice enough looking fellow, but he was certainly no Brandt.

Hello, Conrad, I said and removed my hand from Brandt’s grip and extended it to him, it’s nice to meet you.

My pleasure, Conrad said and kissed my hand.

Conrad, Sophia’s a model, Nellie said and nudged me out from in front of Brandt and toward Conrad. In fact, she did a swimsuit shoot today. How did that go?

Um, fine, I said.

Conrad is an art student in Providence. Very forward-thinking, Nellie said and winked at me.

So, what’s the plan? Conrad said and pulled his jacket off the back of the counter stool.

Well, I have a really wild evening planned for us, Nellie said and pulled her coat on. A film in the Combat Zone, for starts.

The Combat Zone? I said. My father calls it the Ward of filth.

I told you she was rich, Brandt. A real upper-crust, blue blood. What’s the big deal, Sophia? I’m sure you’ve not even been down there, have you? Nellie said.

Well, no, I said. But this is Boston, I’m sure there are many things we could do on a Friday night that don’t include the Combat Zone.

Look, Nellie, Brandt said, if Sophia doesn’t want to go, perhaps we should make alternate plans.

Nellie and Brandt looked so strange standing next to one another. He could pass for one of the All-American male models I worked with. He had short, blond hair and looked like he fit in with the rugby or rowing teams rather than with Nellie. But for him, I happily dipped my toe in the cesspool that was the Combat Zone.

No, I said, it’s fine. I’m all for the Combat Zone.

Excellent, Brandt said and smiled. Let’s get a cab.

The group of us filed out of the coffee shop and Nellie grabbed my arm and pulled me back inside.

Are you interested in him? Because if you are, I don’t know if I’m comfortable with that.

Is he your boyfriend?

No, but...it’s hard to explain. Just don’t like him, okay?

How do you know him? I said.

Brandt’s father and mine used to work on the same boat. I would do anything for him and he would do the same for me. We are extremely dedicated to each other.

Dedicated? I said and looked over Nellie’s shoulder and watched Brandt staring at me.

Yes, you know, as in we’d do anything for each other.

Brandt stood on the other side of the glass and stared at me. When he winked at me, I knew that it was me he wanted. My entitlement oozed as I looked Brandt in the eyes and smiled.

Sophia? Nellie said and gripped my arm. I was talking.

I’m sorry, I said. What did you say?

Where’s your head, Sophia? When we get into the cab, I’ll go in first and pull Brandt in with me. Then you allow Conrad to go in and you get in last. Okay?

Okay, fine.

We walked toward the door and Brandt opened it for us. As Nellie went through Brandt leaned down and whispered in my ear.

I could tell by your beautiful body, you are a swimsuit model.

I looked up at him and then caught Nellie looking at me as if I just screamed fuck in the middle of a church service.

Thank you, I said and blew past Brandt and stood next to Conrad.

We hailed a cab and I made sure that we all got into the backseat in the order that Nellie instructed. I stared out the window as the streets turned from first class to no class and we were deposited in front of a theater.

Is this place even open? Conrad said.

Yes of course, my brother works here, Nellie said and walked toward the front door.

I walked ahead of the boys and reached Nellie at the front door.

Nellie, I said. your brother? Why would you want to be anywhere he is?

I don’t know if he’s working tonight, but if he is, I want him to see me with Brandt, Nellie said.

Is Brandt your boyfriend?

One day, she said.

This is a porno house, Conrad said as Brandt reached above our heads and held the door open.

I know, Brandt said and chuckled.

Anyone want popcorn? Nellie said as we passed a filthy concession counter.

I’ll pass, I said and wrinkled my nose at the grimy counter worker who flicked his tongue in and out at me.

Good idea, Sophia, Brandt said as he walked behind me.

I looked down at the thread-worn, burgundy carpeting as we walked down the corridor to the theater and knew my parent’s would absolutely die if they found out where I was.

I hope the cops don’t raid this place, I said to Brandt.

It’s okay, I will officially be a lawyer soon. I’ll get us out of it, he said and winked.

Where are you going to law school? I said.

Harvard. I’m--

Guys, Nellie hissed, let’s stop talking.

Conrad turned to me and shrugged. We walked into the theater room and Nellie stood to the side and let Conrad lead.

Make sure you go into the row after Conrad. I want to sit next to Brandt, Nellie said into my ear.

I nodded and walked ahead of Nellie as I followed Conrad down the dark pathway toward the front of the theater. I saw the typical occupants of such a place: men sitting alone in long coats and a few couples already sitting on top of one another. Conrad turned to me and asked where we should sit.

I have no idea, I said and turned to Nellie. Where do you want to sit?

Toward the front, Nellie said as she nudged me along the path.

We crab-walked down the aisle in front of a row of seats and sat down in order: Conrad, me, Nellie and Brandt on the end. The theater smelled of smoke and sweat.

You sure you don’t want anything? Conrad said in my ear.

Yeah, to go home, I said.

I was barely nineteen and my only dates with boys up until that point ended with heavy petting in the boy’s car. Now I was at a pornographic movie theater. As much as I wanted to be unlike my parents, I did want a traditional relationship with a boy of worth. I wanted to be taken care of and protected and I was pretty certain I was not going to meet husband material sitting in a porn theater in the middle of the Combat Zone.

Or would I?

The lights went down in the movie theater and I glanced to my left and Brandt stared at me.

Hey Conrad, Brandt said as he twisted in front of Nellie’s legs, switch seats?

Nellie looked from Brandt to me and back to Brandt as if she was watching a tennis match. She shook her head at me and looked back at Brandt.

Uh, sure? Conrad said.

Wait, Nellie said, where are you going?

Brandt didn’t answer Nellie and slid down the aisle toward me and Conrad. Conrad stood up, waited for Brandt to pass and then made his way toward the empty seat next to Nellie. Nellie gripped my arm.

What did you do? she said through clenched teeth.

I didn’t do anything, I said. I swear.

Conrad sat down next to Nellie and I looked at Brandt. He smiled at me and shrugged. Nellie slammed back into her seat, folded her arms across her large breasts and pouted. I looked down in my lap and wished I was anywhere but there.

I’m sorry, I said into Nellie’s ear and she turned her head away from me.

The theater lights went down and a grainy film popped onto the screen. A large woman in a bikini gyrated to canned music that crackled from the theater’s speakers. There were grunts of approval from the theater patrons as the woman began a slow striptease.

Brandt grazed my neck with his fingertips as he brushed my hair to the side and whispered into my ear.

I hope you don’t mind me sitting here.

I turned and looked at him and forgot we were in the middle of a filthy theater that played dirty movies.

No, not at all.

I felt Nellie’s eyes burning a hole into the back of my head and I sat back in my seat and stared straight ahead at the screen.

The large dancer was now naked. Her breasts flopped back and forth in time to the music and the only thing she wore was a black mass of thick pubic hair over her vagina. I laughed to myself as I thought of Katt’s comments about European women who had what looked like carpet samples covering their areas.

Brandt shifted in his seat and I kept my head as rigid as I could, neither looking at him nor looking at Nellie who was probably looking at me.

The music in the film changed to a sort of psychedelic-Indian track and two men walked into the room with the naked woman. The woman in the movie feigned distress as the men pawed at and mauled her naked body. One of the men threw her down on a bed, conveniently positioned in the middle of the room. The men stood over the woman and began to remove their clothes.

Despite the weirdness of the situation, I was aroused by the scene. Brandt stretched his long legs out as much as he could in the cramped aisle and his leg brushed against the side of mine. I didn’t move away, but parted my legs a bit until the side of my leg pressed against his.

I glanced to my left and was shocked to see Nellie practically sitting in Conrad’s lap and the two of them making out.

On the movie screen, one of the men knelt on the bed at the naked woman’s head. Her arms were stretched over her head and she stroked his penis back and forth. The man leaned over the woman’s face and kissed her breasts and sucked at her nipples. Her legs were spread wide and the other man knelt between her legs and he rubbed his penis.

I glanced back at Nellie and Conrad and did a quick double-take as Nellie shifted down to the floor on her knees and knelt between Conrad’s legs. Brandt chuckled beside me. I looked over at him and he was leaned forward and watching Nellie and Conrad. Nellie fumbled with Conrad’s belt buckle and he looked down at her. I wondered if Nellie had seen the movie before as she mimicked the actress’s moves.

I looked away when Nellie looked at me as she took Conrad’s penis out of his pants. I stared at the movie screen and the man at the naked woman’s head shoved his penis roughly into her mouth while he kissed her breasts. The man between the woman’s legs shoved his penis into her and pumped his hips back and forth as the woman flailed her arms.

Hey Brandt, Nellie said, watch me.

I looked at Brandt who sat back in his seat and stared at me. He had a sheepish look on his face, but he did not seem embarrassed. I, on the other hand, would have crawled under my seat if I didn’t think I’d contract something from the floor. Brandt shifted in his seat a few times and he unzipped his pants. I was shocked, but not shocked enough to look away.

Brandt pulled his penis out and I froze. I had seen naked men before. Sometimes by accident as the other models changed, sometimes in the magazines Katt kept in her room and sometimes up close when my dates incorrectly assumed I was that kind of a girl.

Touch it, Sophia, Brandt said in my ear. All I can do is think of you.

My hand, as if it belonged to the kind of girl who touched men’s penises in pornographic movies, moved slowly toward his lap. Brandt’s penis was hard and stood straight up. I looked up at him and he looked down at himself and smiled. Brandt brought two hands around his penis and gripped it tightly.

And then I thought about what Nellie would do to me if she happened to look over and see me fondling Brandt. I pulled my hand back quickly and dug my nails into my leg.

I can’t, I whispered. Put it away.

But it wants you, Brandt said and stroked his penis. Touch me.

No.

Then watch me. Watch me touch myself and think of you.

Please stop, I said and stood up from my seat.

I dropped my purse on the ground and crouched down to pick it up. Nellie was sucking Conrad’s penis. I looked back over at Brandt and he was stroking his penis. I found my purse and stood up and the man sitting behind us leaned over Nellie’s seat and watched her sucking Conrad’s penis while he played with himself.

Hey lady, said a voice from the back of the theater, either sit the fuck down or get back here and blow me!

I’m sorry, I said to whoever cared and tripped over Nellie’s legs as I tried to maneuver my way around her.

Sophia, Brandt said, wait.

I braced myself with my hands as I hit the concrete floor. The floor was cold and slimy and I bit my tongue from the impact of my fall. My knees ached as I got up and began my ascent up the corridor toward the door leading out of the theater.

Sophia, Nellie said, what the hell?

I ran out the door and into the corridor. When I got into the lobby by the concession stand, I was frightened to see I was alone. I looked out the glass door and wondered how long it would take to hail a cab from the sidewalk as there didn’t seem to be a cab stand around and there were certainly no cabs idling in front of the theater. I wished Katt was home so I could call her. She’d get in a cab herself and come down and pick me up.

As disturbing as the whole scene was to me, I was more disturbed by the fact that I was turned on by watching Brandt and the movie. I wanted to do the things to Brandt he wanted me to do in the theater. I wanted Brandt to do the things to me that the men in the movie did to the woman.

Sophia! Brandt said as he came running toward me. Sophia, are you okay?

I’m fine, I said and turned back toward the front door of the theater. I’m really not this kind of girl, Brandt.

Brandt grabbed my arm and turned me toward him.

I am really sorry if I upset you. I just got carried away, do you understand?

Yes, of course, I said.

No, I’m really not, Brandt said. Between the movie and everything that was going on and being so close to you, I mean, I’m really sorry.

It’s fine, I said. I’m not passing judgment. I just want to grab a cab and go home.

Well, I’ll go with you, he said and walked me toward the door. I mean, I’ll wait for the cab with you, if that’s okay? I don’t want you waiting alone.

Brandt opened the door to the theater for me and we waited outside on the sidewalk for a cab. We chatted with one another easily and when he asked if he could take me out to dinner the next night, I was on cloud nine. Until I thought of Nellie.

Look, I said as I looked into his gorgeous blue eyes, Nellie really likes you.

But I’m not interested in Nellie. I’m interested in you, Brandt said and touched his nose to mine. There is not an instance I can think of that I would ever be interested in Nellie.

But Nellie and I are friends of sorts. I know how she feels about you and she’d be crushed if she found out we went out.

Marry me, Brandt said.

What? We just met.

I don’t care, he said. I know what I feel. I’m a good man, Sophia. I’m a traditional guy who, despite the fact we came here, believes in the value of family and honors that. I’m going to be extremely successful too. I have job offers lined up all over Manhattan. I’ll take very good care of you.

I have my own money and my own career.

I know you don’t need anyone to take care of you, but you deserve to have someone take care of you. I want that someone to be me.

Brandt --

Sophia, just promise you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow night? Quick, here comes a cab...promise me.

I looked down the street and a cab with its vacant signal glaring against the black of night came toward us.

Promise! Brandt said.

I promise, I said and sighed as I raised my arm and hailed the cab.

The cab came to a stop in front of the theater and Brandt took his wallet out of his pants and opened the front passenger door.

I have money, I said as he talked to the cab driver.

Hush, Brandt said, it’s my job to take care of Sophia. What’s your address?

I gave Brandt my address and he relayed it to the driver. He opened the back passenger door and helped me into the back seat of the cab.

Mrs. Brandt Therrault, Brandt said and gave me a kiss on my cheek that I felt in the small of my back.

He pulled away from me, held my face in his hands and looked into my eyes. When I looked into Brandt’s clear eyes, I thought I could see all the way into his soul.

What about Nellie?

Don’t worry about Nellie, Brandt said and stepped away from the cab, I’ll take care of her.

I wish it were not a sin to have liked it so.

Veronica Franco

The day after the movie theater fiasco, I was walking to the limo waiting outside my building to take me to a photo shoot and Nellie popped out from behind a potted plant.

Are you alone? She said.

Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed and she seemed very angry.

What do you mean? I said and gestured for the driver to wait for a moment.

Well, I half-expected Brandt to saunter out of your lobby with you. You know, the morning after the night before.

Nellie, he waited for a cab with me. I had to get out of that horrendous place, I said. Although, it’s nice to know he didn’t go back inside.

Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Nellie said.

Oh? What would you say? I said.

Nothing. I can’t wait until he and I go out again.

Again? I’m surprised you’re still interested in Brandt given how familiar you were with Conrad.

Nellie wrung her hands and I noticed that they were red and peeling as if they were soaked in a tub of scalding water and then air-dried in a freezing wind.

Oh, listen to the queen of everything. Just who do you think you are, Sophia? I should be mad at you. I’m sorry I didn’t know what a fucking prude you are.

Nellie, I have to go. This is the car that’s picking me up for my shoot this morning, I said and backed toward the passenger door of the car.

Wait! Nellie said and stretched her arms toward me. I’m sorry. I know I’m not like you and it’s going to be super hard to get Brandt to see me as anything other than a friend, but I do think I have a shot.

Nellie looked pitiful and sad and pathetic.

I understand, I said. I really do have to go.

You’re my best friend right? Nellie said. Please say you are.

Yeah, I said. Um, how do you know where I live?

Oh, because of this, Nellie said and fished a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of her jeans.

Nellie handed me the paper and I opened it. It contained my itinerary for the Gloucester swimsuit photo shoot.

Where did you get this?

You dropped it the day we met. I picked it up and saw your address.

Why didn’t you give it to me yesterday?

I dunno, she said and looked around the street. Well, I gotta go. I just wanted to see how you were.

I’ll call you later, I said.

You will? Nellie said as she swung around to face me.

Yes, of course. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true, I said as I got into the limo.

I kept my dinner date with Brandt that evening and after that, Brandt and I snuck around Boston like two adulterers for five amazing weeks. I avoided almost the whole of Newbury Street for fear of running into Nellie and couldn’t face her to tell her the truth.

When Katt came home from Europe, I introduced her to Brandt. She found him dreamy but, as she said, schemey. She said there was something about him that got under her skin, but I brushed her aside and declared her cynical. She tried to curb her criticisms, but there were still some sticking points she could not help but comment on.

Brandt was always a perfect gentleman with me and our dates never ended with anything more than a kiss on the cheek or peck on the lips. Something the hedonistic Katt found very disturbing.

I’m just saying, Katt said to me while we shared lunch in the park one afternoon, I find it odd that the two of you had your first encounter in a smut theater and he got his cock out and ever since then...nothing.

I told you, our first meeting was an unusual circumstance. He got carried away at the theater because of the surroundings. Ever since, he’s been nothing but a gentleman. I’m not going to lie, I am very tempted to go all the way with him.

All the way? You haven’t even gone a stone’s throw of the way with him. I find it strange that you go from him urging you to grab his cock in public to not even feeling you up.

He’s traditional, I said.

Yeah, some traditionalist, Katt said and sighed. Look, I think the whole virgin thing is cute as a button, Soph, but he’s a man.

And you’re just cynical, Katt. Brandt loves me, he just happens to have self-control and respect. He knows I want to wait until we get married.

Sophia, you do not have to marry a man to have sex with him. We are in the swinging 60’s in case you haven’t noticed. Please, just ask yourself if the reason you want to marry Brandt is because you want to fuck him or if you want to marry him because you really want to be Mrs. Brandt Therrault.

I want to marry him because I really want to be Mrs. Brandt Therrault. Come on Katt, please be happy for me, I said and gave her arm a squeeze.

Fine, but only for you, Katt said. And yes, maybe I am cynical and maybe I don’t like the fact that you’re going to end your career, which is taking off, by the way.

It’s something that I agreed to. Besides, when Brandt takes a job in one of the Manhattan firms he interviews with, I will have a baby right away. That’s something that both of us want. I can’t model if I’m pregnant.

Gads! A baby? You’re so young.

But I didn’t care.

I wanted to marry Brandt, I wanted to make love to Brandt and I wanted to have babies with Brandt. By now, I gave up both my books and my fashion magazines and only read housekeeping, bride and parental-type publications. I would be a perfect bride, a perfect wife and a perfect mother. And within all this giddiness, there was still the problem of Nellie that needed to be addressed.

Nellie called my apartment several times a day. Poor Katt usually took the brunt of it and I asked my agent to look into changing my telephone number. I caught Nellie several times hanging around outside my apartment. I got into the habit of looking down the street before I turned a corner or having my driver drive past my apartment to make sure she wasn’t there before he dropped me off. A few times the limo blew past Nellie waiting outside for me while I hid on the floorboard of the car.

I told Brandt that I could not go on avoiding her for much longer and that there was no reason we should hide our relationship. Brandt promised he would tell her, but every time I asked, he put me off.

I’ll take care of it, baby, I promise, Brandt said one day as he walked me to my apartment.

He looked up to the top floor of my building with an odd smile on his face. He was transfixed as he looked at one of the windows in my penthouse.

What? I said.

I can’t believe that’s yours. I mean, it must be worth a fortune. Do you really own the whole thing?

Brandt never discussed money or what I had versus what he did or did not. I understood he came from a middle-class family of professionals who lived in Providence. They didn’t have as much money as my family, but that was a non-issue. As Brandt said, he was going to be a famous lawyer and would soon be making his own sizeable income.

Yes, I said. I own the whole thing. It was transferred to me when I turned eighteen. Why?

I dunno, just seems excessive, he said.

Well, I wanted a nice place to live and my parents have the funds. If they didn’t, I would have been just as happy with a walk-up apartment. And think of it this way, when we’re married, it’ll be a nice investment or provide a nice down payment for a place in Manhattan.

Brandt looked at me and his eyes narrowed.

I am the provider, he said. You are the homemaker. I provide the down payment.

That day a shift began in the relationship. Nearly unnoticeable, it’s as if the ground seemed to lower bit by bit and my identity, such that it was not, was reliant on Brandt to keep it from falling into the abyss.

I chastised myself for obviously making Brandt upset and made a promise that from that day forward, I would concentrate on making sure that Brandt was nothing but satisfied with me. If he did not approve of me, he certainly would not marry me. And if he did not marry me, he would leave me and bestow his gifts on another female. Brandt had integrity made of steel, I believed. He would not allow anyone to chink his armor. I became obsessed with not doing anything to Brandt that would give him even a surface scratch’s displeasure.

I decided to broach the subject of our marriage plans to Brandt one evening as we sat in his car in the parking lot of Revere Beach looking out at the sunset.

So, I said and slid over toward Brandt in the front seat of his car, when will you make an honest woman out of me?

Brandt threw his arm around me and smiled and I placed my hand on top of his muscular thigh.

Aren’t you honest? He said and put his hand under my chin and tilted my head up until we stared into each other’s eyes.

It’s an expression, I said and kissed him on the cheek. I just want to be with you. You know, in that way.

Oh, in that way, he said and laughed.

I blushed and looked down in my lap.

I’m sorry, I wasn’t pushing you, I said.

Brandt dug his fingertips into my shoulders and twisted me toward him. He ran his hand slowly up my back, under my hair and gripped the back of my neck.

Is Sophia having a hard time with our relationship? Brandt said as he looked into my eyes. Does she want more of me?

Yes, I said.

Which? You’re having a hard time or you want more of me? Brandt said and slid the front seat back away from the steering wheel in his Vauxhall Victor.

I want more of you, I said.

Brandt spread his legs wide and stroked the inside of his thighs and smiled at me. He placed his hands on top of his lap and pressed down on the considerable bulge in his jeans.

Do you want this? Brandt said as he grabbed my hand. Feel it and tell me if it wants you.

Brandt put my hand in his lap and pressed down. I gripped the bulge and then traced around the outline of his penis with my fingers. Brandt shuddered as I rubbed across every vein and ridge. The control I had was immense and I felt it to my knees. I gripped the rigid, thick package in my hand and looked into his eyes. His lids were heavy and his eyes rolled back as he closed them.

I do want this, I said as I softly kneaded his penis over his pants. And I can tell that it wants me too.

Brandt opened his eyes and looked at me. He smiled and bit his bottom lip as I moved my hand up and down.

Does Sophia want to be a whore? Brandt said and moaned.

I want to be your whore, I said and brushed my lips against the side of his neck.

Suddenly, Brandt grabbed my wrists tightly and shoved me across the seat. I went flying across the slippery leather and hit the back of my head against the passenger window. Before I had a chance to say a word, Brandt gripped my ankles and yanked me toward him so I was flat on my back. He scrambled on top of me and he pinned his body to mine.

Brandt, I--

Shut the fuck up, Brandt said. You want to be a whore, you will be a whore!

I was excited by his sudden force and my body went limp as Brandt planted one of his knees between my legs and shoved it to the side as far as it would go. He clawed at my dress and pushed it up over my waist as he fumbled with the belt of his jeans. Brandt pulled my panties down and his fingers went to work, probing the wet skin and pressing in.

He brought his fingers, damp from their exploration, up to his lips and put them in his mouth. He sucked on his fingers while he shoved his pants down to the middle of his hips and stroked his penis. In was the most amazing sight I ever saw and I was wild with desire for this beautiful boy.

I want you to make me yours, I said as my whole body throbbed. I want to be your whore.

Brandt took his fingers out of his mouth and continued to stroke his hard penis. I reached out toward it, like I did the night at the movie theater, but this time he slapped my hand away.

He ripped my panties down and stared at my vagina, almost clinically, as if he had never seen such a thing. I held my breath, knowing his approval of me meant everything and let it out slowly when I saw the smile creep across his face.

Do you want me to shove my big cock into that tight pussy? Brandt asked while he stroked himself rapidly.

I arched my back toward him and nodded.

Say the words then, he said. Tell me that you want me to shove my big cock into your tight pussy!

I want you--

Brandt leaned over my body and placed his hands around my throat. My mind raced as he tightened his grip and I felt a flash of shame as I pictured my parents being called to the Revere Beach parking lot to identify my half naked body. Fucking say it! Brandt said into my ear as he tightened his hold around my neck. Say the words, you fucking whore!

It was silly really because he had such a tight grip around my neck, I was hard pressed to utter a sound. I panicked and clawed at his hands as I attempted to grunt out what he wanted to hear.

And then, as fast as he clamped down around my neck, he let go. I choked and writhed around on the front seat. When I looked at Brandt through my tear-filled eyes, he smiled and pulled his underwear up. He grabbed my panties from around my ankles and slid them up my body.

And do you want to know what I thought at that very moment?

Well, it had nothing to do with fleeing from the car and from his life. Obviously. No, my first thought was: why did he stop? And as if reading my mind, Brandt picked up one of my legs and rested it on top of the back of the front seat and pushed my other leg off the seat until I was spread as wide as I could go.

He got in between my body and planted his bulge on top of my pussy and thrust his hips back and forth as he ran his tongue up my neck. He nibbled on my earlobe and breathed heavily into my ear. Grinding against me with amazing force, I felt nothing but intense desire and wetness between my legs.

I clawed at his back and met each thrust of Brandt’s as my body seemed to lose all control. I felt as if I was both floating to the sky and plunging to the ground.

I am going to fuck that virgin pussy until you can’t walk, Brandt said. I can’t wait to shove my cock into your tight pussy. Tell me that you can’t wait. Tell Daddy that you can’t fucking wait.

I can’t fucking wait, I said not caring who caught us as long as he didn’t stop whatever he was doing.

I think back to that sensation, that incredible feeling, as I neared my experience toward my first orgasm and I still wish it never ended. I felt I was falling and I had no control over how fast I fell or how hard I would land once I reached the bottom.

I have to stop, Brandt said.

What? Why? I said and held him down on top of me.

Brandt wrestled out from under my grip and moved away from me. He slid behind the steering wheel and leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. I stared at him from where I lay, a limp, wet, throbbing, painful heap.

Brandt, I said as I lifted my hips and brought my dress back down, did I do something wrong?

He turned his head and looked at me as if my very question grated on his last nerve.

Why do you think you did something wrong?

Well, because you ended it so suddenly, I said and sat up.

Ended what? he said.

What we were doing. I thought you enjoyed that. I enjoyed that.

Because you are a whore? Brandt said and frowned at me.

What? No, because I love you, Brandt. Because I want to be with you. Because I want to be your wife.

Sophia, Brandt said as he ran his fingers through his hair, you will be my wife and you will be with me. We will marry next week at the City Hall. Are you free?

I stared at Brandt, shook my head and blinked rapidly. My mother did it on the rare occasion one of her hired hands refused to do her bidding.

Am I free? What kind of a question is that? And the City Hall?

It’s the kind of question one asks the person one wants to marry. Come on Sophia, if you weren’t free next week, it would do no good for us to marry.

I focused on the thing in that sentence that made me dizzy and nauseous more than anything else that happened that night: there was no then. It was either next week or nothing.

Yes, of course I’m free, I said.

Good, so Thursday? I figure we can go to the Battleroy Hotel for our honeymoon. Have you been?

Uh, no, I said and did my mother’s blink/head shake.

Perfect! Brandt said and zipped up his jeans. Next Thursday at the City Hall we will be married.

But why City Hall? Why not a church wedding? My parents are not going to be agreeable to this.

We can hardly plan a big wedding when we are getting married in ten days. Come on, think about it, Brandt said and opened his door and got out of the car.

Where are you going?

Bathroom, Brandt said and winked at me. Oh and Sophia, make sure that you shave your pussy before our wedding night. I want you bald. Like a child.

What? I said as he slammed the car door.

But I stuffed it down, pushed it away. Brandt had a quirky sense of humor and his intelligence absolutely put him on a higher plane than me. I just didn’t get it. Yes, that was it, I didn’t get it.

So I sat there and waited for him to return. Dutiful, honoring, obedient. I was to be married to this most strange man in ten days. I was confused but I