Cherry Crush

  Cherry Crush

  By

  Stephanie Burke

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cherry Crush by Stephanie Burke

  Red Rose™ Publishing

  Publishing with a touch of Class! ™

  The symbol of the Red Rose and Red Rose is a trademark of Red Rose™ Publishing

  Red Rose™ Publishing

  Copyright© 2009 Stephanie Burke

  ISBN: 978-1-60435-327-3

  Cover Artist: Kit Nissa

  Editor: Michelle Ellis

  Line Editor: Lea Schizas

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews. Due to copyright laws you cannot trade, sell or give any ebooks away.

  This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.

  Red Rose™ Publishing

  www.redrosepublishing.com

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  Thank you for purchasing a book from Red Rose™Publishing where publishing

  comes with a touch of Class!

  Cherry Crush

  By

  Stephanie Burke

  Chapter One

  “I want you to take my virginity.”

  Chan choked on the mouthful of wine he’d just sipped.

  With a grin that she knew was mischievous, Laney observed her best friend sitting across from her at the dinner table.

  For once he seemed speechless. This was an amazing first for a man who seemed to have an esoteric quote for every situation in life.

  “You want me to what?”

  Wow, she thought. I never knew his eyes could get that wide.

  “Take my virginity,” she explained.

  “Why?” he asked, reaching for a linen napkin to blot his mouth clear of the sprayed wine.

  “Chan, from the moment I met you, I respected you. It was something that I never had to learn, and you have earned that respect several times over. I trust you more than anyone I know and I have never been proven wrong by putting my faith in you. I don’t have the time or inclination to date; it’s kind of crazy out there, as I am sure that you are well aware of. And I’m very serious about the…act.”

  She ticked off her list of reasons one at a time on her fingers. “Besides,” she looked down at her hands for a moment, before lifting her head to stare into his eyes, her lips in a devilish smirk, “Cara said you were fantastic in bed.” Her smirk grew in direct coloration to the red hue spread over his otherwise golden face.

  Chan…handsome in face and form in an exotic, mysterious way. His Asian heritage boldly obvious in golden cat eyes and straight black hair, but the rest of his body maintained an ecliptic mix of races that never failed to excite her. He possessed a rather large proboscis…but that never bothered Laney; she had always been a huge Allen Rickman fan.

  To Laney, Chan looked as if he belonged lording it over a harem in the desert or yielding a holy sword to smite evil dragons instead of running the nondescript dojo downstairs.

  “She told you that?” he asked, sounding…well, embarrassed.

  “All of your old flings talk to me.” Her voice grew husky as she leaned forward. “All of them.”

  “There hasn’t been that many,” he groused. “And besides, she was way before I started with Ash. And….”

  Marlana laughed, and his words sputtered to a halt. He stared balefully at her and then pouted, a man’s only real defense against the mysterious creature known as woman.

  Chan thought back over his past loves, Ash the last in a short line of intense females. All had touched him in some important way.

  Ash wanted training in the art of Reiki, spiritual healing, and had spent several weeks in his dojo and in his bed. She had recently left to make a pilgrimage to Japan to complete her training, leaving a hole in his bed if not in his heart.

  Though Ash had been special and understood his heritage better than most, she was not permanent. She was more like Cara, who was a vibrant woman who had just gotten out of a long relationship and wanted a short fling to ease their shared condition of loneliness.

  But now Laney had asked this of him. His Laney, his cute and sweet Laney. Oftentimes he thought that she was ‘not all there’, as they said in the city, but he found her perfect just the way she was.

  Now his Laney had asked something of him that he’d forced himself never to contemplate—issues that he always pushed aside.

  Laney needed protection, not lust.

  Laney, with her big, slanted brown eyes and rich brown skin…. Laney was someone special, someone otherworldly and untouched. Yet it appeared she was — for lack of a better term — going into heat!

  Laney horny? It just didn’t seem right. Laney lusting after him? That sounded good, no bad! Lust and Laney? That was a bad combo….right?

  “You are way too cute,” Laney snorted, eyes crinkling in laughter as she observed her teacher.

  One of the perks being best friends with the master sensei was all the secrets that certain pupils let out in her presence. True, in the past three years there had only been two women and then Ash, but all the shrieks and yells that came from his loft were not from private grappling lessons on a personal impact mat.

  Marlana had met Chan after he advertised that he had an open apartment right above his new dojo. Desperate for a place to live within her budget, she jumped very cautiously at the chance. She’d knocked on his door, hoping against hope that he wasn’t some loser pervert trying to get a free show through unseemly means and hidden cameras, and she certainly didn’t expect this serene, calm, longhaired man to answer.

  He took to her on sight, like a big brother, and halfway through her interview offered to teach her jiujutsu or karate—for her own good, of course. He felt she was too trusting.

  Soon after, she managed to land her dream job a few blocks from the dojo. Salvatore Bonmartio and his wife, a sweet Italian couple, owned Epicurean Fire, one of the only French Fusion restaurants in the area. Inez and Salvatore, after years of trying, were finally expecting their first child. With the upcoming pressures of preparing for the blessed event, they both decided that they needed someone a little more experienced than the average sous-chef to help run the kitchen.

  Laney, with her many years cooking with her world famous parents in their Parisian restaurant, The Spotted Calf, was just what the Bonmartio family needed and more than they could have hoped for.

  Not only did she bring old-world elegance to her dishes, she brought along a sense of fire and flare with her modern ideals of fusion cuisine.

  With her parents blessing, a stable living situation, and the job she knew would lead to bigger and better things, Laney settled into her new life in Baltimore and discovered she liked living on her own terms — without standing in the shadow of her parents or the constant pressure to be like them — just fine.

  As the sous-chef and replacement for Sal in the small French restaurant, she still couldn’t afford a car. The only recourse she had, other than putting herself in major debt, had been to walk home each evening after closing, clean-up and staff meetings.

  When Chan discovered her walking alone in the dark, blithely unaware of the risks she took as a single woman strolling through the ci
ty streets at night, he instantly volunteered to meet her at work and escort her safely home.

  His excuse had been that he needed the wind down from work and late night walking was a good form of meditation.

  Laney didn’t bite. She realized what he was doing, seeing her escorted back each night, but said nothing, allowing him this act of gallantry. She decided that if he wanted to play the big brother to see to it that she was safe, who was she to quibble?

  She enjoyed his company and conversation, though he never really talked much about himself or his family.

  And although it almost seemed like a smack to her independence, she could not overlook the benefits of having a kung-fu master walking her about the dark streets.

  Soon she began making up late rent payments with tasty gourmet meals she prepared and brought home from the restaurant, and Chan became her favorite food tester for when she was feeling a little bit experimental. With Chan’s taste for exotic flair and his amazing knowledge of herbs and spices, her situation soon developed into an ideal paradise. She loved to cook, and he loved to eat; it was too perfect.

  Chan had become her mysterious best friend and confidant, trading secrets, bolstering her spirits when she felt low. And with the lessons he insisted upon her taking during off days and free time, she became his attentive student and best gal to pal to hang with.

  She was so comfortable with him that it was only now, after she made her offer, that she realized her somewhat hair-brained idea to become lovers might seriously endanger their relationship.

  And from the look in his eyes, it was clear that Chan was not thinking the same thing.

  “I don’t know what to say,” he finally got out, running his hands through his waist-length hair, tugging it free from its normal neat braid.

  Laney forced herself to keep the smile on her face while she wondered if making the offer had been the right thing to do.

  Even now with her almost regretting what she had just asked, she couldn’t help but notice how that confused and weary look on his face was endearing and oddly hot as hell.

  What Chan expected when he walked into Laney’s apartment that night had been nothing but great food, better wine, and his best friend to laugh and joke about the day’s events.

  What he didn’t expect was this proposition from his cute and passionate upstairs boarder.

  There was a lot about him that Laney didn’t know, nor did he feel she could comprehend.

  At first meeting, Laney seemed a gutsy little thing, so unsure but determined to make it through this life on her own terms.

  He felt sorry for the dark-haired waif that knocked on his door with a backpack and a cautiously hopeful look in her eyes. But after speaking with her, he had a good reading on her soul. He knew she needed him to protect her.

  He also had an odd knowledge that maybe someday something romantic could happen between the two of them, but that day was a long way off. She needed to grow and develop, to become surer of herself and her talents, to seize her independence. Then maybe they could make an attempt at a relationship.

  But…but had that time come so soon?

  As the legend goes, there was someone for everyone on this planet; that somewhere there was a person who could perfectly fill the oddly shaped hole in one’s soul, becoming the one who could complete him or her fully. It was a concept that he fully believed in with his whole heart and mind, though Chan had begun to have serious doubts about ever finding a proper mate.

  He still hadn’t a clue if Laney was the right person for him, but his instincts drove him to offer the apartment over the dojo to her at a discounted rate and to see to it that she remained as safe and sheltered as possible.

  Just by looking at her, he could tell she needed the money and would do almost anything to make it on her own; almost exactly like him when he first left his village and his people back in the Kurama Mountains of Japan.

  That she was attractive as hell was an added bonus.

  But what she asked of him…it was unprecedented.

  “I…I don’t know what to say…,” he stuttered.

  “Then don’t say anything yet,” she rushed, looking more and more concerned as he stared at her stupidly. “Just think about it, Chan. I want my first…time to be special.”

  She hung her head, and then gazed up at him from beneath her lashes. “How many twenty-five year old virgins do you know? And the curiosity is killing me.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and Chan grew weary, afraid that he had offended her with his honesty, but she opened her eyes and spoke again. “Believe me, I’ve put a lot of thought into this. I would have never asked it of you if I felt that you could hurt me in any way. You, I trust implicitly, with my heart, my body…my soul.”

  Her soul….

  And she had. She spent many sleepless nights wondering what sex would be like. Not that she could ever be totally innocent in this day and age of phone sex and Internet porn. Besides, in today’s society, you had to live under a rock not to know a little about the birds and the bees…and maybe a weasel or two.

  However, Laney had a plan to expand her horizons sexually…sort of. After much deliberation, she concluded that Chan was the only available man she trusted enough with this important milestone in her life. And maybe…maybe if things worked out, they could have something more.

  She rose from the table and cleared off the dinner dishes.

  “Would you like some baklava?”

  Chan blinked twice and then seemed to focus in on her face before his gaze traveled over her body, awareness of her as a sexual being showing in the flush that darkened his cheeks.

  In her soft, oversized sweater and leggings she knew that she looked cuddly, warm, and comfortable. That was how he always appeared to think of her, but now, as she bent low and allowed her breasts to brush against his arm, she knew that he began to look at her through the eyes of a hungry man.

  Laney’s earth-colored skin looked soft and supple. Her slanted black eyes were bottomless. A man could get lost in those. Her chin length hair slightly mussed. Her full lips were very kissable, and her body exquisite. His cock was….

  “I’ve got to go and think on your words, Laney-kitten.” His voice husky, but he hoped that that was the only evidence of the growing desire he felt for her now that this final barrier between them had been breached.

  “Chan—”

  “I will tell you tomorrow of my decision.”

  As was his usual habit, he bowed to her in quiet respect, glad that the maneuver and his flowing tunic hid his rapidly growing erection, and exited her apartment.

  “Way to go, Laney,” she mumbled. “The only decent piece of man-flesh for miles around and you go and scare the living daylights out of him.”

  AND THEN….

  Outside the eatery, Marlana looked at her watch and sighed. Eleven forty-five. It seemed her escort for the evening, for the first time since forever, was late.

  “Why don’t you call Chan from the phone in the back?” Salvatore, owner of the rapidly growing restaurant, asked. “He’s probably running a little late. Tonight is the night that he helps those abused women with self-defense. Knowing what a soft touch he is, one of the women is probably bending his ear with her tale of woe, and Chan’s too soft-hearted to kick her out.”

  “That’s ok, Sal,” Laney called, pulling on her brown leather duster to start the short walk home. “I’ll probably run into him on the way.”

  “I could give you a lift?” he offered.

  “That’s ok, Chef.” She laughed. “I don’t want to take you out of your way, now of all times,” she added, hefting the backpack that contained her wallet, uniform, and keys off the pavement.

  Sal’s wife, Inez, was expecting twins any day now, and Laney didn’t want to hold him up.

  “If you’re sure….”

  “Yeah, go on.” Laney waved him away, a grin on her face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chef, and we’ll talk about the new low-fat menu you want to add.”

&n
bsp; “Ok, doll. See you tomorrow, then,” Sal added before he slipped behind the wheel of his new tricked-out minivan; the thing had spinning rims and all. He was jumping into fatherhood like the proud papa that he was, and he’d started by ditching his sports scar and buying a brand new, safety tested, Mom Magazine-approved minivan. Inez was one lucky woman.

  Laney grinned as she slung her backpack onto her shoulder and watched the gold van peel rubber down the street before she started home. Even though he was going to be a daddy, Sal couldn’t totally get rid of his Italian playboy mannerisms.

  Anticipating meeting up with Chan at any minute, Laney didn’t pay the usual attention to her surroundings.

  “Can I go home with you?” a voice asked.

  Startled, Laney jumped, her hand going to her chest. She turned. A rather tall boy, about seventeen or so, grinned down at her. She stepped to the side, took in his cocky attitude and ‘gangsta’ clothes, and shook her head.

  “Go on home to Mama, junior.” Laney rolled her eyes. “She must be worried about you, and it’s after dark.”

  “Why don’t you take me home and punish me, then?” the smart-ass chuckled. “My mama would appreciate it.”

  “Why don’t you get out of my face, junior?” Laney had more important things to do than to stand there arguing with a walking, overactive hormone.

  She turned away only to run smack into two other solid large bodies. At their leering grins, she turned and tried to back away.

  “What do you have to say now, bitch?” the first one spoke. The other two egged him on with “School her, Bryan.”

  “This!” she cried and slammed the heel of her hand into his nose.

  With a curse of pain from the unexpected blow, he stumbled back, giving Laney the room she needed to dash by him.

  Chan’s first lesson to her and to anyone taking any of his classes was to be aware of your surroundings. She had been so concerned that Chan had been avoiding her on purpose because of her small little request that she didn’t watch where she was going.

  Chan’s second lesson was to draw as much attention to yourself as possible.

  As she ran down the empty street, she let out a cry worthy of a B-movie scream-queen.