The Lottery (7 page)

“Sorry to call so early, but I have big problems, and those
problems are your fault.”

“What the hell did I do?”

“I won.” Karlyn was at a loss for words, throwing her hands up
into the air for emphasis, as she had no idea how to explain her situation with
the possibility of the hunk downstairs hearing her. That was one of the only
pitfalls of loft living, few walls, little privacy, but considering she spent
most of her time alone, it had never been a problem until now.

“You won? You won what?” Recognition finally fell over Sam’s
features. “Oh my God, you fucking won the baloney pony? That’s freaking
awesome!”

“NO! It is
not
awesome.
Did you know said pony boy gets to live
here
for the next year? At my
house
? Possibly
in my
bed
? Or that I am in the
deepest of shit right now? I can barely afford to support myself, let alone
some guy who walked in here expecting me to be rich and have this wonderfully
appointed palace. I can’t give him the life he expects. He is evidently used to
being pampered, and he’s a little bit of a jerk. Strike that, a lot of a jerk. The
thought of riding his baloney is not all that appealing at the moment.” Taking
a deep breath, she sunk into the giant bag chair on the floor. “What the hell
am I going to do, Sam?”

“You will be
fine
. My
friend Miranda’s boss was looking over some of your paintings last night at my
place, and she asked me to contact you about doing a piece for her. A
commissioned piece could really give your career and your pocketbook a shot. I
will get you her number later; I have it around here somewhere.”

“Okay, that may cover one of numerous issues here, but one piece
will not be able to cover all of his expenses, especially since he looks like
the pampered type used to the finer things.” She stood up and walked closer to
the edge for a moment, peering over to see if he was eavesdropping. Inching
back after seeing that he was in a corner inspecting one of her large wall
murals, she lowered her voice anyway. “And he just stated that he expects to
share my bed.”

“Mwarrr, girlie. This was the point of the lottery. To get laid. Repeatedly.
And you sort of have to be in the same bed to get laid. But then again, it
doesn’t necessarily have to be the bed. It could be the couch. Or a chair. Hell,
the bathtub is a personal favorite, but then again the shower…”

Karlyn cut her off before she could ramble further. “This is
serious, Sam. I don’t need a list of where you have had your sexual exploits. Don’t
you see the issue?”

“I guess I don’t. You have the next year to spend with this man
and there are millions of women right now that would kill for this experience. Thousands
spent ten million a ticket to have that chance. I don’t see what’s so wrong
with getting your money’s worth.”

“You…spent…ten…million…dollars? You have got to be friggen
kidding me! There is no way I can accept this now!” Pulling her fingers harshly
through her hair, she felt as if even more pressure was being rested squarely
on her shoulders. “Are you insane? Ten million dollars?”

“Too late, you can’t turn him away. No refunds. No refusals. And
you are worth every cent, especially now since you actually won. He isn’t my
type; I’m not into dicks, so you have got to take him. He’s your present and
for you to refuse would be poor etiquette.”

Karlyn raised an eyebrow. “I’ll remember that the next time I
come over to your place to watch a movie and you burp and fart all night. Etiquette,
my ass. You wouldn’t know etiquette if it came up and bit you.”

“Whatever. And since you are going to be put out thanks to my
gift, maybe you can sell me that gorgeous set of magnolia paintings you just
did.”

“Great, another handout?”

“Heck, no! I have been eyeballing them for the last couple of
weeks, and I think I know the perfect place to hang them. And speaking of balls
- I know I am not into guys, but is he at least gorgeous? The lottery guys usually
are a better class of stud. But there was always the chance of a dud. So which
one is he?”

“He’s hot as hell. He made my damned knees weak when I laid eyes
on him. And he is absolutely friggen out of my league, Sam.”

“I love it when you get mad, because you cuss almost as much as
me. It’s so cute.”

“Stop trying to change the subject. Are you going to help me or
what?”

“Help you? Whatever for? Tab A is inserted into Slot B. I have
never tried it, but that seems to be the basic instructions. Go get ‘em girlie.
If you are gonna have to spend dinero supporting his ass, then the least you
can get is your freak on. You earned this chance and don’t forget it. Have fun
with him, it may be the only chance you get to have a man. And let me get that
number for you. I would hate for you to not be able to feed and water your new
pet.”

Chapter Six

Karlyn stood looking at the blackened vid screen for a few
moments, contemplating what she should do. Never in her wildest imaginings
would she have considered the possibility of winning this lottery. And it
wasn’t even her ticket. Damn Sam and all her generosity. As usual, Sam had
gotten her in a situation she didn’t want to be in, and now she wasn’t here to
help face the consequences.

Finally walking back down the stairs, she could barely face the
man still standing near the doorway.

“Are you ready to get down to business?”

“Business?”

****

“Well since you don’t seem to want to share your bed, I guess I
need to show you what I can do. Are you ready for me to fulfill my contract?” He
was getting very irritated at just standing there and having her gawking at him,
especially after their encounter earlier. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but there
was something about her that made his blood rush to places it had not in far
too long and his fingers itched to touch her. “I am here to do a job, and I
figured you would want to see my sexual attributes. Just tell me what you like
and don’t like and I will fulfill your fantasies.”

Karlyn stood there open-mouthed. “Ummm…well….I don’t think I’m
prepared to get down to…ummm…business…quite yet.”

He looked quizzically at her, not used to women not pouncing on
him and using him to their heart’s content when given the opportunity. Did he
not please her? He was sure she was interested, because she couldn’t take her
eyes off of him. She was unlike the women he had lived amongst for the past
fifteen years. Somehow, she almost reminded him of his sister. Her timidity
caused him pause, and he chose to back away a little.

“So what’s the verdict on the bedroom situation?”

“I will let you have the bed. I will take the couch. Let me show
you the way through.”

“The couch?” He raised an eyebrow, and looked her over. She was
covered from head to toe in multi-colored splatter and her blonde hair was
pulled back into a ponytail. He would be able to tell the color of her eyes
when she finally got the nerve to look directly at him. They looked light, but
he wasn’t sure. Her paint covered clothes were ratty and torn. Maybe he should
be glad she wasn’t expecting him to service her immediately. It could be worse
he supposed. Some old hag could be jumping his bones this very second.

Ethan followed her down a small hallway, through an open entryway,
and into a spacious bedroom. At least it was clean and tidy…a livable space. He
dropped his bags near the bed and looked around the room. French doors lined
one whole wall, and from the looks of it exited to a lovely balcony overlooking
the city. He noticed a small garden rested there as well.

The old roughened red brick that were in the outer walls of the space
were covered with drywall on three sides, giving the room a softer look. Paintings
littered the space, covering most the great expanse. If they were hers, she was
definitely talented.

He walked over to the one directly across from the foot of the
bed and felt drawn inside the crazy city street scene he saw before him.

“That was one of the first paintings I painted once I moved in
here. The city just spoke to me, and I felt the electricity and the life in the
streets.” He heard the happiness in her voice, it touched something deep inside
him and for some reason, he grew angry. Hearing her talk about her artwork, he
sensed the joy in what she did. Seeing how he had reacted to her body, there
was no way he could allow himself to like her. She was no better than any of
the others he had been with, and this game of avoidance was probably some kind
of mind fuck. He had to be cool and unresponsive, and let her know he would not
play her games.

“It’s passable.” He groaned inwardly, not knowing where the
crudeness had come from. There was a difference between being indifferent and
being plain rude. Had he been out of the game so long that he had forgotten the
rules – that he was an actor in the game of seduction and needed to play his
part? Whether he had liked the picture or not, and he had, he should have
stroked her ego.

“Passable? An art lover, I see.” He turned to her and saw the
vivid dejection written all over her face. She turned and exited the room. Ethan’s
conscious bit at him, bile rose in his throat for the way he acted towards her.
And the fact he had put that look on her face. He was there to please her, not
piss her off. He was not prepared to end up tied to a bed, being whipped until
he was black and blue like the last time he had pushed Ophelia too hard. But Karlyn
was messing with his mind, acting like she didn’t want him there, and it was
throwing him off his game.

Pulling the portable vid screen from his pocket, he called his
sister. Stuck in the hospital already, she was there while they began the
cloning of her brain tissue and working on neural transference. Re-wiring the
brain now would help prevent serious loss of bodily control after the surgery.

 
She answered the phone, looking
weak and pale. His heart wrenched seeing her this way and hoped that this last
effort would be the end to her suffering. He needed to be there with her, but
this was his only chance to pay for the operation and get them to a point where
they no longer had to worry about poverty.

“Good morning, sis. How are you feeling?”

“Still a little tired, but I actually feel better. When are you
coming back to visit me?”

“In a few hours, I hope. I had to do the whole lottery thing and
get settled into my new digs here. I should be able to slip out and see you
shortly. Don’t worry love, everything will be better now. You will be great and
we won’t be poor.”

“Is she horrid?”

Ethan thought to himself a moment before answering. He settled
himself down to sit on the bed, and sighed. “No, she isn’t
horrid
. Don’t worry about me…you need to worry about yourself right
now, Bailey.”

Her body had not felt horrid pressed against his, that was for
sure, and thoughts of capturing her mouth ran through his mind as he tried to
finish the conversation. Less than an hour in her house and he was already
under her spell.

****

Karlyn stood against the brick wall of the hallway, not meaning
to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help herself. She had come to bring him clean
sheets and towels, but had inadvertently caught part of a conversation.

“I had to do the whole
lottery thing and get settled into my new digs here. I should be able to slip
out and see you shortly. Don’t worry love, everything will be better now. You
will be great and we will not be poor.”

“Is she horrid?”

Slipping away before she had to hear the response to that and
feel even more disgusted with herself, she stomped up to the art loft, pulling
out a fresh canvas and propping it up on an easel. Painting always soothed her,
and when she felt any strong emotions, it was what she turned to.

This guy was absolutely horrible. He had a woman in his life, yet
his desire for money had been bigger than his relationship. There went her
visions of Prince Charming and love ever after. This was real love in the
modern day, and thoughts of his touch suddenly repulsed her.

That is such a lie.
The
thought of him touching her excited her, and that alone made her even angrier.
She had seen men before of course, not often, but she had been in close contact
with them before. Then again, none had ever been as attractive, and never had
she felt a reaction as strong as she felt with Ethan. It was hard to breathe
when he was close to her, and her whole body felt engulfed in flames when he
looked her way, even when something asinine was coming out of his mouth. Her
panties were wet thinking about the possibilities his arrival could lead to. There
was a real, live man in her house. Too bad he was an ass.

Her brush moved in short violent strokes across the canvas. Jabbing
at the cloth, pressing the pigments into the fibers, she felt the anger
release. Getting lost in the action, she almost forgot about the freeloader in
her bedroom. Not until she stepped back from the canvas did she realize her
floral arrangement was beginning to look more like a nude male form.
What the hell?
She was so over her head
in this situation. She contemplated the canvas, wondering if she should
continue to vent her hostility, or if she should choose a new subject matter.

“Is it all right if I go out for a while? I have an errand to
run.” She jumped as he yelled his question up to her in the loft. Going to the
metal banister, she looked down at him, seeing the deep chiseled face looking
up at her with derision written in every line. One of his hands rested on the
bottom banister.
His big strong hands
with incredibly long fingers that could potentially do incredible things to her.

“Do whatever you want. I don’t own you.”

“That’s sort of where you are wrong. You do
own
me for the next year. So I was asking you if I could leave for
a few hours.”