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  A Date With Death

  Copyright © 2012 by Louisa Bacio

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-363-1

  Cover art by Mina Carter

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

  Look for us online at:

  www.decadentpublishing.com

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  A Date with Death

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  Louisa Bacio

  ~DEDICATION~

  Grazie to hubby for your continued support, my Preternaturals writing group & Saritza for your insights.

  Special thanks goes to Heather for welcoming me to the Decadent crew.

  Chapter One

  Whatever the cliché about death, it didn’t “become” her. Pale, shocked, dead.

  Maise finished touching up her pink lip gloss and shut the compact with a sharp snap of the plastic.

  Virgin. She’d died a virgin. What the hell? It wasn’t like Maise had saved herself for marriage; sex never happened in her twenty-four living years. Look what good it did her.

  As she paced the waiting area outside Judgment Room, Maise Dickens—yes, her parents thought they were witty—registered every detail, from the marble floor to the brass and glass flower stands bracketing the stairs behind the desk, the ornate carvings of Jezebels and cherubs gracing the handrail as it curled up, out of sight. She continued to walk, flashing to those instances when she coulda, and now it looked like, shoulda, but hadn’t.

  James, her high school boyfriend, had done his best to get into her pants. She’d let him rest his palm over her lower belly, beneath her navel, and she remembered the first time she’d felt the quickening tightness and clenching of her thighs. But, back then, her main complaint had been logistics. She didn’t want to “do it” in the back of his sister’s green Volkswagen Jetta. And his older brother Kevin on more than one occasion had offered to “help her out,” but he was pure creep.

  She reached the corner of the foyer, pivoted on her $700 purple Manolo Blahnik sling backs and headed back the other way. Her purse bounced against her hip with each step, and she knew she was muttering, but she didn’t care.

  “For crying out loud, sit down already,” the cranky old geezer hunched over his AfterLife magazine hollered. The sound of his voice made her jump, so she glared at him. It had been a bad day. One would think that in the Great Beyond, she’d at least be able to do what she pleased.

  “I died for some peace and quiet,” he groused, more to himself than to her, “and now I’m stuck here with the likes of you.”

  As she reached the other end of the room, Maise plopped down into an open chair, and gnawed on a fingernail. Her mom was always on her about that, how she wouldn’t attract a nice boy if she didn’t have a good manicure. As if.

  Had she had any good loving prospects in her life? What about Louis, her French tutor in college? She bet he could voulez vous coucher with the best of them. She got a chill, and the hair on her arms stood up. Maybe she shouldn’t be thinking about sex so much while awaiting her official judgment. Surely, God understood people died with certain regrets. If anyone could read inside her head, well…more power to them. She laughed—if anyone! She was in the right place for mind and heart readers.

  For some reason, when she’d died, the items that had been with her at death had accompanied her. Who knew? It wasn’t as if she’d had any advance warning. Inside her purse lay her cell phone. How many bars would she get here? It was probably worse than the road to Big Bear last winter. Maybe she could scroll through the contacts to jog her memory. True, if she hadn’t been rummaging for a breath mint, she might have seen the asshole run the red light. Still, taking her eyes off the street for five seconds shouldn’t have put her on the road to nowhere.

  Her fingers found the wayward mint, and she rolled her eyes. Now that she was dead, did she have to worry about fresh breath? An unfamiliar texture greeted her touch, and she pulled out a business card. In her hand, the paper pulsed, as if it breathed with life. Was it her imagination, or did it seem to glow pink?

  1Night Stand

  Need an escape from reality?

  I can help you break free.

  Contact Madame Evangeline.

  Services you can count on.

  Where did that come from? She remembered taking a business card off the windshield as she got into her car. She’d tossed it onto the seat, and it must have landed in her purse.

  If she were alive, would she ever consider contacting Madame Evangeline? Probably not. I can help you break free. One more glance around the room, at the unhappy campers, and Maise began to wonder. How much power did this dating service have? Maybe they could set her up on a date that would move Heaven and Earth.

  She picked up her phone, hoping against reality for a signal. Lo and behold, Heaven’s cell service proved to be better than what she got in her own home. Without any sort of privacy, she couldn’t even think about calling. But, maybe a quick little text. What could it hurt?

  Am seeking your services. Interested in a long-distance affair.

  She read over her request once more and hit send.

  A light chirp rang out, alerting her to a new message.

  M. Eve: How can I help you?

  Can you bring me back to life?

  Would like a special date for my first and only time.

  M. Eve: When you say long distance. Where are you?

  Heaven. Outside the Pearly Gates. No use beating this dead horse. She might as well lay it out right away.

  M. Eve: That might be doable. How dead? Have you undergone judgment yet?

  Maise looked up at the waiting room and the large white double doors. The board read: Now serving: 42, and the number in her pocket was 57. She didn’t need to look at it again to confirm it. She’d done that on repeat since she got there. When she arrived, they were at 34. Time didn’t stand still where she was. It fricken dragged. At least it wasn’t Beetlejuice slow.

  No judgment yet.


  M. Eve: Good. Then there is still a chance. I want you to think of a person with whom you might want to have this 1Night Stand, and some of his characteristics. Once you have them, then push *69 on your phone, and your experience will begin.

  Is that it?

  M. Eve: For now. But, you must do it before your judgment or it will be too late.

  ***

  Reece stood from the computer desk, stretching. His Anonymous T-shirt hung a bit loose from his thin shoulders. He hadn’t been eating much since he’d lost his brother Jeremy. Reece ran his hand over his three-day beard, thinking today he might shave.

  Before Jeremy died, he’d bought Reece a certificate for an elite dating service and sat next to him as he filled out the application. He hadn’t received one bite, until this morning when Madame Eve sent him a text message, letting him know she might have found “the perfect match.”

  Perfect match. As if he was in any shape to be anybody’s perfect match. Months ago, he hadn’t thought too much about who he dated, or finding a special bed buddy, until his brother gave him a membership to the service on Reece’s twenty-ninth birthday. Now he owed Jeremy at least a try. What harm could come from a one-night stand?

  Since receiving that text from Madame Eve, he’d been checking his email, waiting for details of his date to come through.

  A chime on his computer rang out, alerting him to a new message. He clicked on the attachment, and a photo of the prospect opened. Maise possessed a cute charm, with her perky nose, brilliant and laughing green eyes, and full lips. She looked familiar, but Reece figured it was that girl-next-door quality. She wasn’t a striking beauty, the likes of which would be found strutting down fashion runways, but that also wasn’t the type of woman he wanted. Or, admittedly, thought he could get.

  In Southern California, vapid beauty could be found in any bar, theater, or gym. If Reece was going to sign up with a dating service, he wanted it all: Looks, brains, depth of emotion. Why settle for less?

  Without putting too much thought into the process, he accepted the proposal. He needed to get on with his life.

  Chapter Two

  The room around Maise flickered. A wave of dizziness hit her, and she blinked her eyes. She reached out to grab onto a nearby chair, and her fingers slipped through the armrest. She tumbled, falling into nothingness, and her chest constricted. What had she done?

  Her consciousness stretched out; one soul in a vast sea of the universe. From the darkness, an overwhelming brightness assaulted her, and she was greeted by a great expanse of blue: The Pacific Ocean. It was familiar, somewhere near Dana Point. She breathed in the salty sea air, so crisp she could taste it on her tongue, and sighed. How she missed living.

  “Good evening, miss,” a voice said from behind her. “I’m Johnny Castillo, and I’m here to see you to your quarters.”

  She turned to see an alluring man in his late twenties, darkened olive skin, wearing a crisp off-white linen suit with a dark green shirt beneath. Everything about him screamed sex appeal, and Maise pictured unbuttoning his shirt, stroking her fingertips across his chest, pressing her nose to his neck, and inhaling.

  He smiled at her, as if he knew her most inner thoughts.

  “Where am I?”

  “Castillo’s Cliffs at Laguna Resort,” he said. “A most exclusive beach hideaway, reserved for special visitors.”

  Maise wondered if he knew quite how special she was.

  “Now if you’ll follow me.” He strutted with a Latin swagger, conveying he knew he was all that and a little more.

  Despite its rich atmosphere, the resort proved to be more of a quaint retreat. They climbed a spiral staircase up to the third floor, which turned out to be a single, large suite.

  “In the bedroom closet, you’ll find a full wardrobe, which will meet your possible needs this evening.” Johnny looked her over with an educated eye. “And if there’s anything we haven’t thought of, give a call downstairs, and we’ll take care of it. If there are no further questions, I’ll leave you to get ready before your guest arrives.”

  As he turned to leave, Maise hesitated, wanting to call him back and cancel the whole thing. Who was she to go against the deterministic workings of the universe? Maybe it was time to accept her fate. Still, a sense of emptiness racked her body. She needed this evening before she could move on. She deserved the experience.

  The door clicked shut, forcing her into making a decision. She opened the closet, taking in the silky lingerie and svelte red dress. Every garment matched her body size, down to her bra cup. The resort was a whole different rendition of Heaven.

  She grabbed a black and white polka-dotted shift that looked slimming, with an almost ballerina-like tutu on the bottom. In her regular life, she’d never have had the guts to wear something so…frivolous, but she also remembered that trip to Nordstrom’s and coveting the retro-looking nightie. On a platform of red velvet rested a pair of zebra print heels. She gave a small clap, loving the mismatched complementary style.

  How did they know her deepest desires?

  Before she could overthink the situation, she moved into the bathroom and changed. If she was going to go through with this fantasy, she’d better look the part.

  ***

  A knock on the door signaled her date’s arrival. With one last deep breath, Maise opened the door and drank in the man standing there. If Johnny had stirred some unknown sensations within her body, this manly specimen cranked everything into high gear. Her body tingled at the knowledge he was there to fuck her.

  Such power.

  Maise gazed up into stormy eyes. So dark, they appeared black. He had to be over six-feet tall. He ran his hand through his dark-brown hair, and gave her a hesitant smile.

  “Are you Maise?” he asked. “I’m Reece, and I’ll….” His voice trailed off.

  Be your date for the evening.

  “Come on in, please,” she said. She took in his crisp khaki pants and neat black button-up shirt. She hadn’t noticed any extra clothes for men in the closet. Maybe because he was alive, the resort didn’t find it necessary to pack for him?

  He brushed by her, his arm rubbing hers, raising goose bumps and causing an unexpected, but quite pleasant, friction. She started, not ready for his touch quite yet, but already loving it.

  Being in the room, the physicality of Reece made it seem more crowded. And with his smile reaching his eyes with a slight crinkling at the corners, whatever he wanted to do, she’d be game.

  When Reece made the date with Madame Eve, he hadn’t known what to expect. Desperate people used dating services, right? No reflection on himself, of course. He’d established a few escape plans, but as soon as he saw Maise, he knew there was no way he would use an out.

  If he was honest with himself, the first thing he noticed were her voluptuous breasts spilling out of her nightgown. Plump. Her nipples swathed by the flimsy material. He wanted to pull down the top and dine a la cleavage. But, he figured that hitting a sex buffet before getting to know Maise first would be a bit out of the question.

  “So, have you been here before?” she asked.

  Reece knew he was staring at her, but he couldn’t help himself. Fuck it. Might as well not try to fight it.

  “Never,” he said, before slipping his fingers through her lush black hair, tilting her head up, and going in for their first kiss. Their lips met and everything else in the universe melted away, as time halted. He drank in her essence, and a sliver of awareness passed from her to him.

  “Wow,” she said, blinking. “Did you feel that?”

  He cupped the curve of her ass and pulled her in close again. Her pelvis pressed against the growing needs of his cock. He met her mouth for another kiss and even more of her intoxicating presence.

  “Well, hello,” Maise said, her voice breathy even to her own ears. “Nice to meet you, too.”

  “Sorry to be so forward,” Reece said, “but you looked like you needed to be kissed.”

  “Is there anyth
ing else I need?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

  “Are you hungry?”

  At the mention of food, Maise’s stomach grumbled. “I could eat,” she said, placing her hand over the offending noisemaker. Nerves put her on edge, and she needed to relax.

  “On my way in, I was told we’d have a private dinner on the patio. Let’s see what they have planned.”

  As he opened the glass doors, a chime resonated. The balcony overlooked the Pacific Ocean. The sky shimmered a mixture of warm oranges, yellows, and pink, and where it touched the water, a deep violet. Reece rested his hand on her lower back, and Maise relaxed at the touch.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “I never get tired of watching the sun set,” she said, “and every one feels like it could be my last.” Maise knew the irony behind her statement too well.

  He slid the chair out for her, and helped her scoot closer to the table. Rather than going to the opposite side, he took the seat to her right.

  A door off to the side opened, and a waiter approached. “Thank you for joining us this evening. Are you ready to start with an assortment of tapas?”

  “Tape-what?” she asked

  “Ta-pas. Spanish little plates,” Reece explained. “That’ll be perfect, and maybe some sangria.”

  The lush sounds of the ocean tide crashing in and a few birds tweeting good-bye to the day caught Maise’s attention. She looked toward the great expanse of the sea…thinking about how far it stretched and the world beyond she’d never explored.

  “What brings you here? Why a one-night stand?”

  What should she tell him? Not the truth, or he’d go running out the door. “I’m not used to stepping outside my comfort zone.” She fiddled with her napkin. “And it’s about time I take a chance and experience something new. Now, tell me about you. What do you do?”