(Disclaimer: Since leaving Brenda standing in the rain, Sonny Corinthos has been a free agent i.e. he never married Carly.)
Sonny stared at his image in the mirror. Another day, another year, another birthday. His eyes narrowed. The reflection glared back at him. A few lines etched from the corners of his eyes. Streaks of salt and pepper blended with his jet-black hair. He brushed it all together and shrugged. What the fuck? Running his territory wasn't easy, but in the end, it was always worth it.
He finished dressing and headed for the first floor of his penthouse. Mike stood near the sofa, gift-wrapped present in hand. Sonny's steps faltered. He eyed his father with suspicion. "You didn't have to."
"I'm your father. Of course I did." Mike handed the gift to his son. Sonny accepted with reluctance. Mike added, "Consider it a peace offering."
"Courtney is my sister," Sonny said, eyeing the present warily. "I do what I do to protect her."
Mike nodded, his expression solemn. "I know. I don't agree with your methods, but I understand your reasons. Courtney isn't a child. We'd both be wise to remember that."
Sonny frowned. Part of him knew his father was right. But the other irrational, passionate part didn't really give a damn.
"Take it, Michael." Mike said with an exasperated release of air. "Do whatever you want with it after I'm gone, but for now, take it and accept it in the spirit it is given."
Sonny didn't respond. Mike grabbed his face and pressed a hard kiss to Sonny's temple before storming from the room.
In the ensuing silence, Sonny stood still. Indecision gripped him. Mike was always talking about how he wished things were better between them. They had their share of good days and bad days. But the weight of the unopened gift in Sonny's hand made him feel as if the ball was now, officially in his court.
What else could he do but open it?
The gift wasn't what Sonny expected. Spicy, musk with a hint of citrus.
Mike gave him cologne for his birthday and to top it off, it was called 'Chick Magnet'. Talk about cliché. Sonny figured it as a gag, but since the stuff smelled decent, he put some on.
The meeting for the latest addition to the Stone Cates wing at GH was underway. Sonny glanced at his watch. The unexpected visit from Mike pushed him off-schedule. After telling Francis to step on it, Sonny leaned back against the leather interior of his limo. Moments later, the luxury vehicle rolled to a stop in the hospital's ER entrance. Sonny stepped out immediately. Johnny moved to guard him, but Sonny waved him off. He was in a hurry. The guards only slowed him down.
A quiet hush fell over the ER as he entered. The silence was familiar. Sonny's presence caused an endless number of reactions from Port Charles' citizens. It was all part of the game. Fear, power and potential for violence forced many to take notice whenever he was around. This went with the territory and he thrived on all three.
No one crossed his path as he headed for the elevator. The doors opened as if on cue seconds after he pushed the button. He stepped inside. A shiny black shoe stopped the doors from closing. Then, the petite, dimpled, dred-locked Ellen Burgess stepped inside.
If his presence shocked her, she made no outward show of it. She pressed the button for the tenth floor and stared straight ahead as the doors closed.
Sonny's gaze raked over her. He'd seen the doctor before. After taking an active role in Stone's treatment, he came to know the hospital staff. Rather, he came to know of them. He financed a background check on everyone in the building. He knew their likes, dislikes and habits and if any of them had any problems with assisting AIDS patients, he was fully aware of that, too.
Fortunate for GH, none had.
But back to Dr. Ellen Burgess. Even in heels, she was a good three inches shorter than he. Her locks fell to her shoulders and framed her mocha-heart shaped face. Dimples flashed like fire in her cheeks. Intelligence radiated in her chocolate orbs. She was a beauty. He recalled when she hid underneath that ridiculous wig. The wig only served as a mask. For a true lover of beauty, the mask only whetted the appetite for more.
Slowly, inch by inch, her head turned. Their eyes locked. Sonny waited for the reprimand. He received nothing but a breathy smile. His boxers suddenly felt too small.
"It's hot in here, isn't it?" she asked, her brown eyes warm, inviting.
Sonny nodded once. Come to think of it, the temperature had risen.
She inhaled a deep breath. Her full curves pressed against her pink silk blouse. "Whew," she whistled through full, sensual lips.
Under his watchful gaze, she dropped her folder to the elevator floor. Soon, the white lab coat followed.
"Better?" he all but growled, enjoying the dramatic performance.
"Not quite." Her fingers moved quickly over the buttons. The blouse fell open, revealing a black lace bra that was a secret that not even Victoria would be woman enough to share. She dropped the blouse, with one hand pushed the emergency stop button, and leaned back against the wall. Her legs parted slightly. Sexy, copper brown knees peeked at him from underneath the hem of her short black skirt as she smiled.
Sonny cocked an eyebrow. Was she serious?
"Mmm," she murmured. Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips. "Maybe you need just a little bit more incentive."
Off went the bra.
Firm, brown globes bounced before his eyes. His mouth watered. He became instantly torn between falling to his knees to worship the Nubian goddess before him or pulling her to the floor and serving her in an instinctively primal way.
The good doctor made the choice for him.
Sonny never made it to the meeting and Ellen never reached the tenth floor. Well, not literally. Figuratively, Sonny took her there and beyond.
The wild, spontaneous sex in General Hospital led to something Sonny never anticipated: love in an elevator.
He had no idea that the cologne turned him into a chick magnet and neither did his unsuspecting friend who borrowed a splash or two...
To be continued…