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Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

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Status: In Progress

Genre: Romance

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Chapter5 (v.1) - Melee

Author Chapter Note

I'm sure many of you are uncertain about reading further after the way A Risk Worth Taking ended. I just want you to know, Brent and Chelsea are slated for a happy ending :)

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: April 13, 2016

Reads: 1260

Comments: 5

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: April 13, 2016

A A A

A A A

Chapter 5: Melee

He brought a date.  My emotions are all over the place at the moment, ranging from indifferent to enraged.  He told me he didn’t have a date for the ball and right before my eyes, stands the competition.  I suppose “competition” wouldn’t be a fair way to describe the game that Cassie and I will inevitably play.  After all, I am just his partner’s little sister.  That little comment pierces the heart.  I haven’t been friend-zoned, I’ve been blacklisted.  I don’t even rank high enough in his personal life to be considered a friend, just his partner’s little sister.  Shaking my hurt, I bring myself back to the here and now.  “So nice to meet you, Cassie,” I tell her with a saccharin sweet voice.  I turn to face the object of my now broken heart, “You look very dashing, Brent.  I hope you two have a lovely evening.”  Hiking up the hem of my dress, I hike it out to the dance floor.

 Breathe in, breathe out.  Breathe in, breathe out. My nerves are frayed, and I can only hope that each breath will bring me closer to tranquility. I think I did very well considering the circumstances.  Just two nights ago, I was in Brent’s arms, coming undone beneath him and now I have the pleasure of meeting his date.  A date that I couldn’t hold a candle next to without if flickering out, she’s so scorchingly hot.

This hippie, eastern medicine bullshit isn’t working.  I want to cry; it hurts so badly.  I haven’t cried in over a year, not a single tear has slipped from these blue eyes, since the night I woke up in a hospital after being hit by a cab.  I refuse to let a man, even the man of my dreams, reduce me to tears.  I’ve worked too hard and come to far to let this situation put a chink in my newly polished armor.

People swirl and twirl around me as they dance to the music.  Looking around the large room, I search out my date.  A little dancing always helps to quiet the roiling emotions.  “You look stunning,” says a voice from behind.  I turn around to find one of my newest pupils staring back at me, with lust burning in his eyes as he rakes my form.

“Hello, Jeremy.  You look stunning as well,” I tell him, returning the compliment.  He looks absolutely edible in his three-piece tuxedo.  I take a moment to thoroughly assess him.  His dark hair is combed to perfection and the suit he wears looks tailor made for his lean body.  I can’t believe this is the man I would hardly give a second glance to at my studio the other day.

With a slight bow, Jeremy extends his hand to me.  “Would you do me the honors of a dance, beautiful lady?”

Oh, my.  How can I possibly resist?  I reach my hand out to his and he brings his lips to the back of my hand, dropping a light, sweet kiss on the now over-sensitive skin.  “I would love to.”

Straightening his spine, he pulls me close and guides me out to the dance floor.  Hip to hip he keeps his arm wrapped around my waist, securing me to him.  His other hand holds mine and he keeps it close to our joined bodies.  We glide effortlessly to the instrumental music.  This man has had professional lessons at the very least.  “I have to admit, I’m quite surprised to see you here,” I confess.  My first impression of him was that he was more of a business man, entrepreneur.  He doesn’t exude overbearing, authoritative vibes.  Although, I’m certain he has some caveman tendencies, he seems to be more reserved than that of a policeman.  Growing up around so many alpha males, I can spot a cop or military man from a mile away.

“I’m afraid attending the Annual Policeman’s Ball is one of the many social events the mayor is obligated to attend.”

“Oh.  So you work for the Mayor?”  He’s a business man, guess my instincts weren’t too far off.

He drops the hand from my waist and swings me out wide, then pulls me back to him and lowers me with an impressive dip.  His mesmerizing caramel eyes bare into mine.  “I am the Mayor,” he whispers with his lips only an inch from my own.  I can feel his hot, minty breath wash over my now pale face.

He’s the Mayor?  I was off, way off.  Although he may not be the brooding military type, I seriously underestimated his quest for power.  And to be elected mayor at such a young age?  He must have serious political ambitions.  Gently, he pulls my body upright and secures me against his chest.  “You seem awfully young to be Mayor, are you just yanking my chain?”

A light laugh escapes him, “I would never lie to you, Chelsea.”

The song comes an end but the enigmatic Mayor doesn’t want to let me go.  We continue to dance to the next song and even though I thought the night was going to be a wash, I find myself having a marvelous time with the man who is holding me in his arms.  Not the man who shattered my heart less than half an hour ago.  I close my eyes and let the music and movements absorb my consciousness.

“May I cut in,” asks a familiar voice, prompting my eyes to flash open.  Brent is standing next to Jeremy, and I risk a glance at his hardened features.  The sexy little tick in his jaw that has always managed to make me melt, is ever present and grinding harder than I have ever seen before.

As one might expect from a politician, Jeremy lets go and steps to the side, waving Brent in to take his place. 

We stand there, stock still as we stare at each other and masses of tuxedos and evening gowns whirl around us.  The motions of the sea of people crowding us, exemplifying our own emotions.  Without a word, Brent pulls my waist into him, crashing his pelvis against my belly.  His eyes are hard and unwavering as he stares me down. 

He takes the lead and guides me around the dance floor.  Each step commanding, speaking the words that he will not say aloud.  You are mine.  We move around other couples and the fly of his pants rub against my abdomen with each step.  Betraying his angry façade, I can feel the bulge in his pants growing larger.  His fingers dig into the bare flesh of my back and his breathing is growing rapid and shallow.  “What the hell are you doing?” I seethe, unable to stand the mounting tension a moment longer.

Holding onto me tighter, I can see the anger fall away.  “I’m sorry.  I just couldn’t stand watching another man’s hands all over you,” he confesses.

The song ends and I pull away.  I give a perfunctory applause with a slight smile and give my dance partner a small curtsey, signaling to him that our dance has ended.  “Go back to your date Brent.”  The tick in his jaw returns with a vengeance and I pay it no mind, turning around I make my way back to the bar.

“Scotch on the rocks,” I tell the penguin behind the bar.  I need something a little stronger than wine at the moment.

“Hittin’ the hard stuff tonight, huh, Sis?”

Either my salvation or my annihilation, I’m not sure which.  I turn around to find Tommy saddling up next to me at a barstool and orders a beer.  The bartender slides a glass down my way and I tip my head back, reveling the burn down my throat.  “Yep,” I answer.

“Careful, you’re in a room full of cops looking to make their monthly quota.  A Public Intoxication ticket may be all they need to meet their mark,” he says ruefully.

“I’ll take that into consideration.”  I take another long swallow of the amber colored balm, “Where’s your date?”  Tommy isn’t a long-term commitment kind of guy, but he never goes without a date. 

Pointing over to the large French doors, “Natalie is over there, chatting with Cassie and Brent.”

I watch with sick fascination as Brent wraps his strong arm around his date, as if what occurred on the dance floor never happened.  They’re chatting with Tommy’s date, giving the appearance of happy, everyday couple in love.  “Have Brent and Cassie been together very long?”  I ask the question but fear the answer. 

He takes a swig from his bottle of beer.  “They’ve been on-again, off-again for the past few years.  I guess they’re on-again.”

I can’t help but wonder how long they have been back together.  Sunday was the first time I had seen Brent in six years.  Since then, he’s kissed me twice and screwed my brains out once.  Had he been dating Cassie when he came inside of me?  Another swallow of scotch and my glass is empty.  I signal to the bartender for another shot and he refills quickly.  I take a long sip and feel my blood warming.

Tommy gives me a hard look and bites his bottom lip.  “Are you okay,” he asks with valid concern.

“Yeah, I’m great, actually,” I lie.  With the cold, dewy glass in my, I point toward the source of my pain.  “They look happy together.  Do you think she’s it?  You, know the ‘one’?”

He stares out at the couple and seems to carefully consider his answer.  “Nah. I think she’s toxic.  When he was in Iraq, she stepped out on him with several guys.  She’s manipulative and loves to play on his insecurities.”  Tommy pulls another long sip from his bottle, “Personally, I think he’s holding out for someone else,” he says nonchalantly.

“Who,” I ask desperately.

“I’m not sure.  Men don’t talk about love and emotions and that kind of bullshit.  But whoever she is, he’s been in love with her for years.”

My idiot brother has no clue as to the true meaning of the words he just spoke.  I can feel my heart pounding against my ribcage as I let Tommy’s admission sink in.  For years.  For years!  Yet, here he is, on a date with his whoring girlfriend.  Maybe I should be relieved by what Tommy said, but instead it only fuels my anger.  Why put me through this if you aren’t willing to see where it leads?  Am I just a game?

“Hello, Mr. Mayor,” Tommy greets as Jeremy walks up to us. 

“Nice to see you Officer Smith.  Are you having a good time,” Jeremy asks, playing the politician.

“I am.  These shindigs are always blast.  Mayor Bell, I would like to introduce you to my sister, Chelsea Smith.  She just moved back home from New York.”

Laughing, Jeremy takes my hand and gives it a slight shake.  “We’ve already met, but I suppose we bypassed the traditional introductions.”

“Will you be on the auction block tonight, Mr. Mayor,” Tommy asks.  “Being a single man, it might be a great way to meet the future Mrs. Mayor,” he jokes.

“I’m afraid my campaign manager advised against it.”  Jeremy turns his assessing eyes toward me, “But I’ve recently met someone who I can’t wait to get to know better.”

Preventing me from digging for an awkward response to the Mayor’s little declaration, the Emcee announces that it is time for the Annual Policeman Auction. 

A woman in her mid-sixties is on stage and in front of the mic, informing us of why this event is important to our community.  All proceeds from the auction are donated to the Cops for Kids campaign.  Local policemen volunteer their time and mentor underprivileged children, encouraging them to reach their potential.  Dually, the program also helps to build a stronger relationship with a portion of the community that harbors a fear and mistrust of law enforcement.

I watch as several men gather on stage forming a line, on display to be objectified.  Women clamor as they crowd the raised platform.  Three of my brothers and Brent, help make up the goods for sale.  Kam arrived late, preferring to have had a root canal than be stuck mingling with the upper crust of Fort Black.  His comeuppance is him being auctioned off to a seventy-year-old woman who wears too much makeup and perfume.  I can smell her from ten feet away.  No doubt she’s looking for a happy ending with her newly purchased date.

George and Tommy are auctioned off to two middle-aged socialites who will certainly maintain decorum during their dinners with the men they bid on.  Then Brent walks on stage strutting his stuff.  Shoving his jacket toward his backside, he puts his hands in his pockets like a male model. 

“Ladies, this is Brent.  He’s been with the Fort Black Police Force for five years after serving two tours in the military.  He’s lean and he’s looking for a date next weekend.  Do we have any takers, Ladies?  I’ll start the bidding at one-hundred dollars.”

Quickly, the amount reaches five-hundred dollars.  His biggest supporter, being Cassie.  Jealousy is not becoming, but in this moment, I don’t give a shit.  I match her dollar for dollar and raise by a hundred.  Quickly, we reach a grand, and the few women who were still bidding had the grace to bow out, realizing this is a melee of emotion and greed.  Brent stares, awestruck as the amount climbs.  Ready to quash this once and for all, I go big.  “Five-thousand dollars!”

“Five-thousand!  Going, once,” calls out the emcee.  Cassie doesn’t make a sound.  “Going, twice,” the emcee looks to Brent’s date and she nods her head.  “Sold!  To the lady in red!”

The crowd breaks out in applause and the rush of blood fueling my jealousy begins to wane.  My irrational behavior has now cost me five-thousand dollars that I don’t have to spare, but I wouldn’t change my decision to bid on the man who holds my heart.

Brent steps off stage and gives me his elbow as he accepts me as his date next weekend, never faltering, he keeps a boyish grin plastered to his face.  We walk toward the French doors to the veranda and he whispers in my ear, “Are you out of your damn mind.”


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