Author: Lindsay
Category: AU M/L and other CC
Rating: ADULT
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell belong to The WB, Melinda Metz, and UPN.
Summary: Liz Parker is a brassy young stripper in New Orleans. Max Evans is a smart law school student too focused on his studies to enjoy his young life. Until he meets the beautiful Miss Parker and learns a thing or two about love.
Author’s note: Okay, Not So Little is finished and I'm bringing up the next fic in my loooong list.
I hope you guys enjoy! Um... after this is Forbidden Desires and then If I Was Your Girl. Any other requests, me dears?
<center>banner by Jen</center>
<center>Part One</center>
As he thoughtfully observed the raucous environment around him, Max Evans wondered for the hundredth time just how he had let himself be talked into this.
This, of course, being a rowdy night out with the guys.
In celebration of his twenty-third year of life, his best friend Michael Guerin had decided it was time to shake Max out of his normal routine of studying and experience the youthful vitality New Orleans had to offer.
He had been sitting at his desk, dutifully scanning his notes on municipal court and juvenile law when Michael had burst into his expensive apartment.
“Maxwell, put the books away, because tonight we’re hitting Bourbon Street and I won’t take no for an answer!” he chortled, walking over to his friend.
“No,” Max muttered, turning the page in his text and jotting down important information.
“Dude, it’s your birthday!” Michael exclaimed, giving Max an incredulous look. “All you do anymore is study! Come on, my treat! Let’s go have a couple of drinks.”
Max sighed, propping his head on his palm as he blinked at the boatloads of information in front of him. “Mike, I HAVE to study. I have the bar coming up soon, remember? I need to pass it if I’m ever gonna get out of school.”
“No, what you NEED is to get laid,” Michael smirked.
“Michael, we’ve been through this before, I don’t have-“
Michael held his hand up, interrupting his friend. “I know, I know. You don’t have time to get into a relationship. You have to keep your focus… blah, blah, blah! Look, Max, I’m not talking about getting married or anything. I’m just trying to get someone to play with your dick!”
Max rolled his eyes and decided to ignore that comment. Unfortunately, Michael continued talking.
“You, my friend, are in desperate need of some female attention. And I know just the place… they don’t call New Orleans The Big Easy for nothing, ya know!”
With those words, he stepped forward, gray eyes gleaming. “Now, Maxwell… don’t make me use these on you, man! It’ll be a lot easier if you just come willingly.”
Max looked up and saw his friend dangling a pair of police issue handcuffs in front of his face.
Michael was a rookie officer on the New Orleans PD TACK team. The adrenaline-pumping career was the perfect compliment to his already fast-paced lifestyle.
He had come to New Orleans looking for adventure and so far seemed to find it in spades.
Whereas Max enjoyed the historical sights and cultural aspect of the city, Michael preferred the bare-breasts and colored beads of Mardi Gras.
Realizing he had no choice, Max conceded defeat and reluctantly closed his book. “Fine, whatever! I’d rather back down now than find out what other twisted ways you have thought of to get me to go with you.”
Michael grinned. “Smart move, Maxwell. And they say rich kids have no brains.”
It was true.
Max’s father, Phillip Evans, was a well-known honest-to-God oil tycoon down in Roswell, New Mexico.
Growing up only known as Phillip’s Boy had put a damper on Max’s burgeoning education.
Everyone assumed he got his good grades because his daddy was rich or because his daddy paid of the teachers. No one believed he had actually studied his ass off to get his scholarship to Tulane University.
His parents were shocked that he would choose Tulane over the offers from Harvard and Duke, but Max loved the south.
Not to mention his appetite for Creole food.
So he'd ignored the ranting of his disapproving family and admitted to Tulane University of Law.
On his arrival in New Orleans, he had met Michael, who was fresh out of the police academy.
Being a native of the Pelican State, Michael had quickly taken Max under his wing and taught him the ropes of Cajun Country.
A sudden lurch jerked Max out of his thoughts, and he realized that his taxi had come to a stop.
He got out the cab and found himself on Bourbon Street, standing in front of what looked like a nineteenth-century Creole townhouse.
Of course, more careful observance would lead to the realization that it wasn’t just any old house.
A brightly-lit sign decorated the front, the words Maiden Voyage winking at him. The silhouette of a nude woman wrapped around a pole gave the finishing touch.
God, what had he let Michael talk him into?
“That’ll be five bucks,” the cabby announced. Giving Max a toothy grin, he wiggled his eyebrows. “That place has given me some very fond memories, if you know what I mean! Best club in the Quarter!”
Max smiled politely and dug ten bucks out of his pocket. “Um… keep the change,” he handed the bill to the cabby and waited for him to drive off before turning back to the building.
Giving a deep sigh and wondering how long before he could make his escape, he pushed open the doors.
As he entered the smoky, sweet-smelling club, he was met with the sight of scantily clad women dancing provocatively to a sexy Latin beat.
Several women eyed him appreciatively as his eyes searched the crowded room.
Finally spotting Alex Whitman, Kyle Valenti, and Jesse Ramirez sitting at a table in front of the main stage, Max made his way over.
“Max! Glad to see Michael didn’t have to tar-n-feather your ass to get ya down here,” Kyle grinned, pulling a chair out for his friend.
“Nope, just threatened me with bondage,” Max replied, slapping Alex on the back as he took his seat. “So where is Guerin? He better be here or I’m kicking his ass from here to Baton Rouge.”
“He’s over at the bar trying to pick up the bartender,” Jesse explained, nodding his head in Michael’s direction.
The friends all groaned good-naturedly at Michael’s playboy ways.
“One day that kid’s gonna catch something,” Max muttered, watching as his friend wrote something down on a napkin and passed it to the smiling blonde behind the counter.
As he made his way to the table, Max scooted over to make room. “Well, fellas! I’ve already made my plans for later this evening,” Michael wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously.
“Hmm… what line did you feed her this time, Mike? Let me guess…” Max ran his hands through his short raven locks, mimicking Michael’s voice. “Excuse me miss, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to place you under arrest.”
“But what for officer?” Kyle bantered back with a breathy sigh, fluttering his eyelashes in a womanly fashion.
“Well, it’s clear that you’ve stolen my heart. But if you’d accompany me to my place later on tonight, I might consider letting you go on good behavior,” Max finished, wiggling his brows suggestively.
The group cracked up as Michael folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Maxwell. Don’t worry… I have special plans for you this evening.”
Max raised an eyebrow challengingly. “And those plans would be...?”
Michael grinned and shook his head. “All in good time, my friend. But for now… let’s get this boy shit-faced!”
A chorus of hell yeah sounded around the table and Michael held his hand up, signaling a nearby waitress.
She sauntered over, smiling sexily at Max. “What can I get you boys?”
“Well, I’ll have an Absolut Royal Fuck - minus the pineapple juice,” Michael drawled in his charming southern accent. “Boys?”
“I think I could go for a Horny Bull,” Alex shrugged.
“I second that one,” Kyle laughed.
“Make mine a Raging Hard-On,” Jesse replied, winking flirtatiously at the buxom blonde.
“And for you, sugar?” she asked, directing her comment to Max.
“Are those actual drinks?” Max asked in disbelief. “Whatever happened to plain old vodka-tonics and shit?”
“Get birthday boy here a Long Island,” Michael smirked. “Oh, and a shot of Crown Royal. That should be enough.”
“You got it,” the waitress winked, giving Max one last hungry look before sashaying away.
“Man, she wanted your ding-dong bad, man,” Alex laughed, watching an oblivious Max.
“What are you talking about?” Max shrugged. “She was just doing her job.”
“Yeah right, sugar,” Kyle winked, putting emphasis on the last word.
“Hey, shut up guys,” Michael interrupted. “I want to say something about my dear old friend, Max, here on his twenty-third birthday.”
The guys groaned again as Michael stood up, clearing his throat.
“Excuse me, everyone, may I have your attention please,” he called to the room.
Everyone turned and locked their eyes on Michael as his friends – minus Max – hooted.
“Michael, sit down, shit!” he hissed in embarrassment.
“It’s my buddy here, Maxwell’s, 23rd birthday!” he continued, placing his hand on Max’s shoulder, while Max covered his face in his hands.
“Hey, baby!” a female voice called from the back. “I’ll help you celebrate!”
Max’s face turned red as catcalls sounded through the room.
“I know he appreciates the offer, Miss. Maybe we’ll get back to ya,” Michael laughed.
Just then, the waitress brought their drinks out and placed them on the table. Michael reached down and picked up his shot glass, holding it in the air.
“In honor of Maxwell, I invite everyone to join me in a toast, and buy my buddy a drink so we can get him completely plastered!”
With that, he downed the drink and a cheer went up, while everyone chugged back his or her own drink.
Michael gave a bow and sat back at the table, ignoring Max’s glare.
“What the hell was that about?” Max demanded.
“That was me helping to get you in the mood. You know what they say, friends don’t let friends watch naked women sober!” Michael joked.
“Yeah, well, I’m not planning on getting trashed so just lay off,” Max muttered.
“Come on, Max! It’s your 23rd birthday! That only comes once in a lifetime,” Alex teased.
“Yeah, live a little tonight, man! Tomorrow you can go back to being Mister Serious Law School Student,” Kyle added, shoving the shot of tequila towards Max.
Max looked at his friends’ expectant faces and sighed. “Fine, give me the damn thing.”
He picked up the glass and gulped it down, feeling the heady alcohol warm his throat. Wiping his mouth, he turned to his friends with a grin.
“Get me another!”
A cheer went up from the table, just as the waitress came back carrying a plate full of tequila shots.
“Compliments of the house,” she explained, setting the tray down and smiling flirtatiously at the guys.
“To Max! May he experience the true perks of New Orleans tonight!” Michael called, picking up a shot.
His friends did the same, followed by Max.
They all downed the shots then wiped their mouths.
“Who’s ready for another?”
<center>************************************</center>
Six shots later, the boys were starting to feel quite a nice little buzz.
They sat watching a lithe, red-haired dancer slide languidly down a shiny brass pole.
Max sipped on his Long Island Iced Tea, making a face as he tried to focus on the dancer’s seductive form.
“Ya know, this doesn’t really taste like tea,” Max slurred slightly, picking his glass up and seriously contemplating the ingredients.
Michael snorted, picking up another shot from the center of the table. “Oh, don’t worry… it’s in there. Drink up,” he snickered.
Max shrugged and took a deep gulp, smacking his lips as he swallowed. “Mmm… pretty good.”
“Is that her real hair or is it a wig?” Alex asked, watching as the woman ran her hands slowly up and down her body.
“I think it’s a wig,” Kyle responded, closing one eye in an attempt to focus. “It’s too red.”
“I like redheads,” Jesse announced suddenly. “I also like brunettes. And blondes.”
“Just hand me a pair of nice, perky tits and I’m good to go,” Michael smirked. He was the least drunk of all of them, having built his tolerance up over the years.
“What about you, Max. Blondes or brunettes?” Alex burped. “Or redheads?”
Max thought for a second, conjuring up his dream girl. “Brunettes. With long, silky hair and big brown eyes.”
“I thought you were more of a blonde, blue-eyed man, myself,” Michael said, watching Max shake his head.
“Yeah, what about Tess?” Kyle snickered.
“Hey, is she still following you around, man?” Alex asked sympathetically.
Max groaned. Tess Harding was a fellow law student who he had made the mistake of agreeing to take out once.
Ever since their date, she had been hounding Max for another, showing up every where he turned.
“Yeah, I’ve tried to let her down gently but she doesn’t seem to get the idea that I’m not interested,” Max replied.
“That’s because she’s a dumb blonde. You gotta stamp it on her forehead or something. Get a tattoo that says, Get Lost She Devil!" Michael trumpeted.
Max frowned. “That’s not very nice. And she’s not dumb. She’s just… well…”
“Annoying as hell?” Jesse added.
Max nodded. “Yeah.”
Just then, their attention was brought back to the stage as the lights in the club dimmed.
Lil Kim's The Jump Off echoed through the building as several girls strutted out on the stage, clad in shiny black leather trench coats and stilettos.
They took their places on the stage, bumping and grinding each other, tantalizingly fingering the clasps on their coats as they performed their sexy moves.
“Whoo-hoo!” Michael hooted, raising his fist in the air as he downed another shot.
Suddenly, another woman strutted on stage, wearing an outfit similar to the others, only her coat was bright red and so were her heels.
Her long chocolate hair was piled messily on top of her head, tendrils cascading around her face.
Her lips were full and red, taking on a pouty characteristic as she pursed them dramatically.
She walked to the center of the stage, the spotlight shining on her exclusively. The other dancers lined up behind her as she stopped and gave the audience a hot look.
The girls began to dance to a routine, mirroring the lead brunette’s moves as she ran her hands down her body lavisciously.
Suddenly, all the girls ripped their coats open at the same time and tossed them to the side.
The men cheered as the coats revealed the costumes underneath.
The other girls were wearing what resembled a one-piece thong bathing suit, with a wide slit down the middle, their ample breasts practically spilling forth.
The brunette, however, was dressed in a skintight red corset, tied together with a flimsy ribbon at the middle. Along with it she wore a crimson thong and matching garters which held her thigh-high stockings up.
“Dayum!” Kyle whistled, taking note of the girl with wide eyes. “That has to be the finest chick I’ve ever seen!”
“Look at those legs,” Michael exclaimed, licking his lips.
Max stared in shock as the perfect image of his dream girl began to grind her body against a curvy blonde.
Her smoky brown eyes caught his and he swallowed as she stepped away from the girls and walked to the edge of the stage, right in front of Max and his friends.
His eyes widened and he barely heard his friends cheering as the girl stopped right in front of him.
She was within touching range. If he only slid his hand out he could run it up her smooth legs…
Three of the other girls had begun doing a sexy pole dance as the brunette danced; her eyes fixed on Max.
She gave him a sultry smile as she bent at the waist, giving him a perfect view of her breasts encased in the tight corset.
Her fingers played with the ribbon clasp, teasingly pulling it apart.
Max unconsciously licked his lips and leaned forward, drawn to her magnetism as she practically seduced him in front of a crowded room.
Suddenly, her smile turned downright wicked as she knelt down and crawled the remaining few inches of the stage on her hands and knees.
Rocking back on her toes, she thrust her pelvis in the air - directly in front of Max’s hot gaze.
She held a perfectly manicured hand out for Max and raised her eyebrows. Max glanced at his friends, who all wore expressions of shock and excitement.
Michael met his eyes and gave him a wide grin, nodding his head.
Max turned back to the woman and placed his large palm in her smaller one.
She slowly slid his hand up her tight stomach, brushing lightly against her breasts as she placed it on the ribbon.
Giving him a nod and sexy smile, she pursed her lips, staring him in the eye.
Max slowly untied the clasp, his breath hissing as more of her was shown to his hungry eyes.
The corset popped open, releasing the most perfectly formed breasts he had ever seen.
She leaned forward and caught his full lower lip between hers and sucked it gently before releasing it with a pop.
The crowd of men hooted and hollered as she raised herself to her feet, straightening her legs and slowly rolling upwards from the waist giving the crowd a view of her thong-covered ass.
Max stared at her in a daze, reaching up with trembling fingers as he touched his lip.
She faced the crowd again and leaned on one hip as she brought her hands to cup underneath her boobs, creating more than enough ample cleavage.
She caught Max’s eye once more and winked, before reaching down to ruffle his raven hair playfully.
The song ended and the other girls hurried off stage as the brunette pulled the clip from her hair, allowing her deep brown hair to spill over her shoulders in a silken waterfall.
A single spotlight illuminated her and a pole, which was positioned slightly off center of the stage.
A slow, seductive beat pounded through the club as she slinked over to the pole, shaking her hair while grasping the pole with her left hand.
Quick as a flash she leapt up, wrapping a long leg around the pole as she slid down, her head held back with abandon.
Max watched enthralled as she proceeded to grind against the pole, rubbing her body as the sexy music matched her thrusting motions.
Max knew he was hard. Painfully so.
Add to that fact that he was half-drunk, well, his mind began to wander.
Instead of riding that pole the way she was, in his mind, she was riding him.
Their bodies writhed together, sweat gleaming on their flushed skin as she rode him to completion.
So involved was he in his little fantasy, that he didn’t even notice the dance end, or the lights come back on.
At least, not until his friends began slapping him on the back proudly.
“You, Max Evans, are one very lucky dude,” Kyle shook his head, reaching over and snatching a remaining hot wing from the center of the table.
“Yeah, that fine piece of woman was totally hitting on you!” Alex mocked frowned. “She didn’t even notice the rest of us men folk here.”
“Get real, Whitman,” Michael smirked, looping an arm around his best friend’s neck. “Max and I are the only men folk here!”
“I… I gotta go to the…” Max jumped up, trying to conceal the tent in his chinos as he turned towards the bathroom.
“Not so fast, Maxwell,” Michael grabbed his hand. “I still gotta give you your birthday gift.”
Max wasn’t sure what to make of the strange glint in his friend’s eye, but he sat down cautiously. “What is it?”
“Come with me and I’ll show you,” Michael replied, standing up and beckoning for Max to follow him towards the back of the club.
Max shot his friends a hesitant glance and they all shrugged their shoulders, as in the dark as he was.
He followed Michael through the bar and into the back, where there were several small rooms.
Michael shoved him inside one and locked the door before Max had the chance to react.
“Michael! What the hell are you doing? Let me out of here!” Max pounded on the door in frustration.
“You can thank me later, Max. For now, try to enjoy yourself,” Michael laughed, then turned back towards the main room.
Max gave the door another good pound, then sighed deeply. What the hell was his friend thinking?
Locking him in a dark room? This was his idea of a gift??
Max turned around and took better inventory of the room he was currently standing in.
It was small and cozy, dimly lit by a lamp that flickered across the room.
There was a large chair in the center of the room that closely resembled a throne. It was extremely wide with a tall arch in the back and was covered with a soft, silk-lined pillow.
There was no other furniture in the room.
Max was a little taken aback. Exactly what kind of prank did Michael and his friends have in store for him tonight?
As if on cue, a soft husky voice sounded to his right.
“Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”
Max’s head jerked in the direction of the female voice and his eyes widened when he glimpsed the brunette from earlier leaning against a door that he could have sworn wasn’t there moments before.
She stared at him in amusement as he struggled to put together a sentence.
“I… you… huh?”
Giggling, she sashayed towards him, the way a lioness would stalk her prey.
Max found himself backing up until he bumped into the chair. Sinking down into it, he watched with wide eyes as she continued to head in his direction.
He suddenly acknowledged what she was wearing, or rather, not wearing.
She was clad only in a flimsy white robe that ended mid thigh and a white thong underneath.
He could make out the shape of her dark brown nipples through the transparent material and he swallowed heavily, bracing his legs as she stalked closer.
Finally, she reached him and stepped between his spread legs, resting her hands on either leg.
Max finally found his voice, although it came out sounding extremely hoarse. “There… there must be some mistake…?”
She cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow, allowing a small smile to grace her lips. “You are Max Evans?”
Max Evans? Who was that?
“Uh… yeah, yeah I’m him,” Max managed weakly. “But…”
She placed a finger on his lips, silencing him from further attempts at speech. “Then there's no mistake. It’s your birthday, right?”
At Max’s nod, she continued, “Well, your friend Mr. Guerin has requested a special Maiden Voyage lap dance for you, and I am here to deliver.”
“La… lap dance?” Max croaked. Oh God. Someone stop the insanity. “You mean you’re gonna-“
“Why don’t you just try to relax, Mr. Evans,” she breathed, a feline smile on her face.
Max didn’t know whether he wanted to kill Michael for putting him in this embarrassing situation or fall down and kiss his feet.
But as she lowered herself onto his lap, wrapping her legs around his middle, he decided the only one in danger of dying was him.
Of immense pleasure.
Max stared in helpless arousal as she shed herself of her robe, revealing her breasts to him once again.
Only this time, there wasn’t a crowd of horny men watching them.
He took a deep breath as he noted her dark nipples jutting out, as if begging to be touched.
She began a slow rocking motion on his lap, grinding herself into his already aroused dick.
He was sure she must feel the effect she was creating, but she either didn’t or just didn’t care.
Groaning as she ground deeper into him, he gripped the armrests in a death hold as he struggled to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head.
She stared into his eyes as she ran her hands up his tanned arms and back down to his clenched fists.
She took his hands into her own and gently unclenched them, bringing them to rest on her swollen breasts.
Hissing sharply as he felt her hot flesh beneath his palm, he bit his lower lip trying to keep control. “I… I thought I wasn’t allowed to touch you? Isn’t that a rule?”
Her lips quirked into a dangerous smile. She leaned forward and breathed into his ear. “I won’t tell if you don’t…”
“Ah…” he moaned as she licked the hollow of his ear then blew softly.
She rocked back and forth more insistently now, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pulled back to look into his eyes.
His nostrils flared as she licked her lips and he brushed his finger over her nipple, eliciting a small moan from her.
“Yes…” she cried as he squeezed and molded her soft flesh with his touch.
“Oh shit,” he rasped huskily as he felt the first tremors of release spring forth from him.
She rocked her hips one last time, grinding deeper than ever before into him, and Max fell over the edge.
“Oh God…” he groaned, feeling his cock pulse as he ejaculated, completely soaking the front of his chinos.
His head fell back against the chair, his hands hanging limp at his sides as he panted and swallowed for breath.
The brunette smiled and leaned forward once more. “Happy Birthday, Max.”
With that, she slid off his lap and picked up her robe, giving him one last glance before disappearing from the room.
Max watched her leave, wanting to call out and ask for her name, for her to stay, but he was too out of breath.
As he became aware of the sticky substance inside his pants, he sighed and glanced down, wondering how he was gonna hide this one from his friends.
<center>TBC......</center>
Author's Note: Here are the ingrediants for the drinks mentioned above, in case any of you are fond of mixing beverages! They're all delicious.
HORNY BULL
1 shot tequila
1 shot rum
ABSOLUT ROYAL FUCK
1 oz Crown Royal
½ oz Absolut Kurant
½ oz peach schnapps
1 splash cranberry juice
1 splash pineapple juice
LONG ISLAND ICED TEA (one of my personal faves wink wink!!)
½ oz vodka
½ oz tequila
½ oz light rum
½ oz gin
1 dash Coca-Cola
twist of lemon peel or lime
Okay, fine.... "Love is Blind" would be good. Actual plot there. Same with "Soccer Sweeties." "Poolside Pleasure" would be good for PWP (although, if you want to continue a PWP, I'd definitely vote for more "Working Overtime".)
It is back! One of my favorite story! I always wonder what happened to this story....and what happened to you too!?!?!?!?!?!
, Laura
