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Warning: Some bad language
He sat on the bed feeling as though he’d been hit by a train.
It wasn’t meant to happen like this. Surely it was meant to be some sweet young girl like the old man was always trying to push his way. But he’d always known they weren’t for him. He’d felt that there was something intangible close by, but he was too dumb to recognise quite what.
It had been her all along. The woman he joked with, considered a friend but had never really looked at before.
This was all Scott’s fault he told himself. If only Scott hadn’t made that casual remark about wondering what she looked like without the “disguise”.
“It’s so obviously a wig, and the face she paints on, I wonder what she really looks like.”
And Johnny, to his chagrin, realised that he had never even noticed – she was just Delice.
But his curiosity aroused, he had set out to seduce her. Delice, who never, ever, let any man lay a finger on her.
He’d told himself he would get her into bed, find out what she really looked like. It would be a casual fuck between friends. But it hadn’t worked out that way.
A torrent of emotions had swept over him. He hadn’t fucked her, he had made love to her and knew he never wanted to let her go.
He smiled wryly to himself as he imagined the old man’s reaction if he dared tell him.
“I’ve fallen in love with the woman who owns the bordello.”
~end~