Rhapsody (Butcher and Violinist 1)

Still, the more I thought about him, the more I became wet with desire.

That night, I touched myself.

I was at home, tucked underneath the covers, and imagining that his fingers strummed my clit.

And when I came hard, I moaned his name.

Chapter 5

Pussy Power

Eden

A limo pulled up at my apartment the next morning. I knew this from Leo waking me up and getting all excited. He wore no shirt. Tattoos covered almost all of his brown skin, but especially on his neck and slender arms. His dreadlocks hung past his shoulders. A few of the locs in the back were purple.

Throwing on my robe, I dragged myself to the window and looked outside the window. V had already been on the windowsill and rolled over, purring as if I’d come to the window to love on her.

“What’s going on?” Leo asked. “Is that for you? I know it’s not for me. Everyone I’m fucking is broke right now. I should’ve took your aunt’s advice a long time ago and stopped fucking musicians.”

“Like attracts like.”

He pushed the curtain to the side. “That it does.”

The driver left the limo, went to the back, opened the door, and pulled a huge package out.

“Oh. This is the delivery.” I tied my robe closed and hurried to the door.

“No, you’re not going like that. You have a onesie on.”

“It’s under my robe.”

“A shitty robe with brown stains on your butt.”

“That’s coffee.”

“When you have to explain a stain due to its location, it’s time to wash the garment.”

“Oh, shut up. I haven’t had time for laundry.”

I opened the door.

The driver carried a long white box up the steps. It lay across his right arm. In his left hand, he held a vase filled with a dozen roses.

“Ms. Eden Michaels?”

“Yes. That’s me.” I grabbed the roses. “Thank you so much.”

Leo appeared out of nowhere and took the box. “Yes, thank you kind sir.”

I laughed.

Leo turned to him. “Should we tip you?”

“No.” The driver held up his hand. “I was asked to deliver these items.”

“Okay. Well. . .have a good day.” Leo waved goodbye, shut the door, and rushed the package over to the sofa. “Who the hell is giving you this stuff?”

“Give me my box.”

“Fuck that. I’m trying to see what’s going on. You have been hiding some secrets. I knew you were out with some sugar daddy.” He wagged his finger at me. “You’re trying to tell me that you had the rent for this month from playing a violin?”

“That’s the truth.” I set the vase on the table, hurried over, and sat down next to him. “I was asked to play for a private party this evening. The employer sent the outfit.”

Leo pointed to the flowers. “And roses?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting the roses.”

“Yeah.” Leo nodded. “I don’t know this dude, but he’s interested in fucking you. Just in case you don’t know this.”

“I’m getting the message.” I pulled the ribbon off the box and yanked the top away. “Wow.”

A long, black beaded gown lay inside.

I picked it up and stood.

Leo whistled. “You lucky I’m not into wearing girls’ clothes, because I would’ve knocked you out and ran off with this.”

It wasn’t just a gown. It was a see-through lace one with gorgeous beading and jewels adorned in intricate places. Most of my body would be covered, but there were teasing spaces that only exposed lace over bare skin.

I muttered, “Wow.”

Leo rummaged through the box. “He’s freaky. There’s a mask inside.”

I placed the gown back down in the box and took the mask from him. “He’s not freaky. This is kind of my brand right now.”

“A masked violinist?”

“Sort of. It’s my alter ego.”

“It’s a shitty alter ego.” He spread his hands out in the air. “She’s a violinist during the day, and a violinist at night. But at night. . .she’s wearing a lace mask.”

“Leave me alone.”

“And you can still tell it’s you with this one.”

“Not the point.” I studied the mask Jean-Pierre had provided. My mouth and the bottom half of my face would still be displayed. In many ways it was similar to the one that I’d worn. The major difference is that this one held expensive French lace. It was so soft, I feared it might melt in my hands. Jewels scattered the lace around my eyes.

I put the mask on my face. “This is what I wear when I play at the Candy Shop.”

He frowned. “And you still get tips?”

“Not funny.”

“Looks a little crazy that you’re playing in a mask, but whatever. It’s a brothel. Not a lot of judgement there.” He grabbed the mask from me and put it on his face. “I like it. Mysterious and lacey.”

“There we go.” I took the mask back from him and put it in the box. “You’re getting it.”

“Only because someone showed up in a limo.” He returned to the box, took out six-inch black heels, and dangled them in front of me. “So…this new employer is dressing you?”