"May I kiss you now?"

Another kiss...perhaps a bit more? (2)

Maybelle has been sold by her family. A debt she intends to pay - but It's the wild west and things never wind up as expected. Especially when it comes to Mr. Stan.

Warnings: *Smut*Mild Language*

Oh, the burn...

Maybelle could feel the burn of their eyes on the back of her neck.

The Saloon's overseeing Madam insisted on having - no less than three girls - sharing a room. It wasn't as though Maybelle wasn't used to splitting her sleeping arrangements. Her youngest two brothers used to sleep in the same room as her in what felt like a lifetime ago...even though it had only been two weeks since she had arrived at the "The house of many delights" - as they called it,  instead of what it truly was: just a high-end brothel.

The problem was the constant teasing.

She was trying to busy herself with her embroidery when the comment had come out of the blue.

"He took a girl with him last night," one of the two girls chimed in - an ill-intended, light gloat carrying her high pitched tone.

"How many has he taken to his sleeping quarters since he got here, now?" The other one said with a raucous shuffle of her gown.

A playful, physical little exchange between the two and,

"He's only been here a few days, woman!" answers the first one, breathlessly.

A round of boisterous chuckles later and Maybelle still refused to take their insidious lure - her eyes remained focused on the red rose she was weaving in a white handkerchief.  She wasn't any dexterous with the needle, but it kept her sane.

"What about you, 'Little Mouse'? Did you give it up when he called you to his office?" An even noisier laugh - one laced with cynicism - and Maybelle rolled her eyes.

"He won't let anyone touch her." A sarcastic shrug.

"They always say to watch out for the quiet ones...like this one." A few hard steps on the wooden floor accompanied by: "Must've been quite the time she showed the boss." The words spilled like corrosive poison, promptly followed by a swat of the hand. The wooden hoop Maybelle held in her arms landed on the floor.

"I don't know what your problem is." Maybelle stands up. Face to face with her bully - hazel eyes courageously defying an evil, ghastly stare.

"You come here and suddenly you are treated like a princess while the rest of us have to bend over backward each night. Does that seem fair to you, Maria?" And the other hyena was already prowling toward her hostile pal's side. Wicked smile broadening, but Maybelle's legs remained rooted even when her hoop is kicked to the side by one of them.

Dawn is breaking through the stained curtains as Maybelle awaits the first signs of physical assault, fists clenched.

Then the door is yanked open and an irate Elijah glares fondly straight at Maybelle first. His eyes darken as he shoots a threatening glower as soon as they shift toward the two girls facing Maybelle. It's a glower that could freeze the blood in anyone's veins - and Maybelle understands why he is as feared an individual as his fame precedes.

Both girls automatically recoil and there's a strange gleam in his eyes and some unrecognizable expression that transforms his face into harsh lines and angry shadows.

"Get the hell out." His voice cuts, menacingly through the small space, a vein pulsates on the side of his neck and he works his jaw, the muscles visibly tensing and releasing with every grit of his teeth.