by Ellen, Tracy
He didn’t say anything else or explain. I blinked and Luke was gone.
Beautiful me debated packing up and leaving. I could be as understanding as the next woman…this thought trailed off and I laughed out loud. Actually, I don’t know how understanding I can be, never having hung around the same man this long in a decade. I’m certainly not the same woman I was at nineteen.
Luke was probably walking his friend and coworker back to the house so the boogey-man doesn’t kill her lying butt. It would also give him an opportunity to talk to her privately without me hearing. Protecting and cosseting Svetlana was Batman’s number one priority. Fucking Anabel the Cow until he had his fill was on some list of Luke’s that I didn’t know how to judge.
Maybe it was logical he take Svettie out of here without a further word to me. Maybe I could be mature. Right now, I was confused and sure of only two things.
One, I never go back on my word once given. I promised Luke to do what his card said. I would dance for him tonight and give him his fantasy--if he came back in a reasonable time frame. Otherwise, the contract was null and void.
Two, I don’t always have to be the leader or the boss. I can be second-in-command, second chair, first officer--although never science officer, or a full partner. What I won’t ever stick around to be was second choice, second string, or sloppy seconds.
I tossed the lip gloss into my bag, slung it over my shoulder, and wandered out of the office. I continued exploring even as my mind was busy wondering what work Svetlana did at Luke’s Chicago office. The scared way she reacted to das boot put the kibosh on her being some tough, secret spy that may know interesting karate moves she could share—should she ever turn into a rational woman.
The metal gates were opened wide and the lights were on beyond. When I stepped into the main part of the barn, I looked around in amazement and whistled soundlessly.
‘Holy Moly, talk about a man cave!’
The lighting was dim and shadowy in the cavernous barn, but I could see the interior walls have been gutted to leave one ginormous workout and entertainment space. A two lane running track circled the exterior walls. There was a grouping of exercise equipment and workout apparatuses way down on the left. There’s a raised boxing ring to my right. One huge area towards the middle of the barn was covered in mats for floor exercises or martial arts practice.
Clapping my hands in delight at all the fun stuff to do, I was half-tempted to kick off my shoes and tear off the tight dress to run and do hand springs down the floor mats. A hot tub that could host a small party was located farther down past the boxing ring. There was a pool table and a couple of other game tables, as well as an oversized couch and some big, comfy-looking chairs. A large screen TV and a bar area were nearby.
The floor was newly poured cement everywhere I walked, unless it was covered by the mats or along the running track lanes. Similar to what you’d find at any upscale fitness center, these tracks were covered in a rubberized material conducive to providing more traction and bounce when jogging or running.
At a table in the seating arrangement area, I took out my Jambox from the backpack and got it set up. I then went off to explore everything around me more thoroughly. I slowly made the rounds of Luke’s cool barn in my long red dress, black gloves, glittering jewelry, and very high-heels.
When I turned back to the seating area, Luke was lounging in one of the big chairs and silently following my investigation of his barn. He tapped his wrist. In spite of my earlier thoughts, I smiled at the gesture. The man has balls. He was also wearing nothing but the black tie, an impressive erection, and a raised brow.
I glanced down. ‘Oh, does the man have balls!’
Without a word, I walked behind him and trailed my fingers across his shoulders. He made a move to reach for my hand, but I went past him to the table. I didn’t want to talk about Svettie. My remote was gone.
I turned to Luke and he smiled. With a click, he turned on the song. As the slow, musical notes of the song’s opening filled the barn with their languorous beats, I walked to an open area directly in front of his chair and posed with my back to him.
Any small nervousness I felt immediately disappeared when I started moving to the song. Swaying my hips exaggeratedly to the music in direct opposition to my shoulders, I turned sideways a little to look over one shoulder at Luke. He was watching avidly with glittering eyes from a few feet away. With a smile, I pouted my red lips and rubbed my hands over my body--starting from my waist and sliding back down over my hips and ass.
I started lip-synching the words of the song, right along with the lead singer of En Vogue. As the shortest girl in my group of women since I was ten, it was my natural role and the one I loved best.
I lost myself in the music, my hair falling around my face and the dancing coming naturally. For me, whistling was next to impossible, I often tripped and fell down if I didn’t pay attention, and I couldn’t sing worth a damn, but I can dance like a dream. Or like a man’s sexual fantasy.
Dancing in front of Luke for the best visual impact, I was not close enough to touch. Seeing him swallow and move restlessly, just like the men in the music video, I felt powerfully exultant. Now I understood the allure of stripping, minus the nasty men.
Giving it my all, Luke got much more than he remembered. I have many more erotic dance moves we’d invented to fill in when the cameras were off the girls in the video.
I moved to the song and pretend sang the words to my riveted audience of one. Stripping off my satin gloves, I snapped them over my head and around in the fast, complicated patterns of the dance before throwing them at Luke’s smiling face. They slithered down to his lap, instead of onto the floor.
Undulating down into almost a squat and trailing my hand on the floor, I then swayed smoothly back up in perfect time to the escalating beat while running my hands up my sides, through my hair, and pointing to the ceiling. I mouthed, ‘I’m givin’, I’m givin’, I’m givin’, I’m givin’, I’m giving him something he can feel…”
Luke’s hand lightly stroked under a draped, satin glove, but his eyes never left my performance. I recognized the signs of soaring off to your favorite travel destination in his still, intent face. Standing in silhouette with hands on my arched lower back, I bent my knee and pointed my toe. In time to the music, my cha-cha region gyrated in and out with sharp emphasis while I was slowly shaking my shoulders.
‘Now, THIS was fun!’ Smiling at Luke with half-lowered eyes, I meowed back my agreement at the sex kitten voice.
Feeling wonderful, I have decided it didn’t matter what was going on with Luke and Svettie. I was going with my gut and my pelvis and trusting Luke.
My leg extended straight sideways and toe pointed outwards, I did the final sweeping arc of arm motion as the music died away. I held the pose and met Luke’s eyes.
In the ringing silence of the big barn, Luke was rubbing his lip with one finger while sprawling casually on the big chair. He looked comfortably at ease in his nudity, but I could sense the coiled energy blazing from him a mile away. His eyes were heavy-lidded and his muscles were taut. He also had an enormous hard-on.
His hand moved, he smiled slowly, and the music started.
“Again.”
I very slowly started pulling my black gloves off Luke’s lap. He laid his dark head back on the chair and closed his eyes at the sensation of the cool satin gliding over his erection. I teased him with the gloves a little longer, and then started dancing.
Three performances and several wardrobe malfunctions later, Luke was satisfied he’d seen all my moves.
‘My dance moves.’
After the third and final encore, I positioned myself deliberately on my knees before him. A total suck up, I undid the neck clasp of my red dress and pulled the bodice down to my waist. I wanted to make sure Luke had plenty of visual interest to entertain him while I performed my next moves of coccyx kissing.
He liked this idea because in no time I was we
aring only dazzling sandals, a glittering bracelet, shimmering earrings, glossy red lipstick, and my sparkly sapphire eyes.
By six in the morning, Luke got his fill piloting from the cockpit as he took off and landed several times in the Bermuda Triangle. He even got to practice water rescue when I passed out from biological warfare side effects in the bubbling hot tub.
Chapter IV
“Shiver” by Coldplay
Wednesday 11/21/12
6:05 AM
“I have to go.”
Luke’s hands were doing things while his nuzzling lips at my ear murmured, “Do you?”
“Quit that. I don’t think it’s humanly possible to do it again.” I moaned, “Is it?”
“Was that a challenge?’
“That’s right, I forgot you aren’t human.”
Every bone in my body ached and every nerve ending was sensitized to the screaming point in places I didn’t know had nerve endings. I was sore enough that even my beloved petroleum jelly might not fix me right up. Luke has the body of an Adonis and the sexual appetites of a satyr. I never thought I’d get to use the word satyr in my life, much less meet one. I was pleased as punch I had my very own.
“Are you sure you have to go? I would prefer you stay and sleep with me a few hours on this damn uncomfortable couch.”
“We seem to be making a nasty habit of couches,” I agreed, removing his roving hands fondling my breasts. I sat up, arching my back and stretching my arms overhead while adding, “How odd since we each have homes of our own with bedrooms.” I looked over my shoulder at the man sprawled around me on the big couch in the barn and asked acerbically, “Your house does have bedrooms, right?”
Sitting up partially and resting his tousled head on one hand, Luke’s lips twisted in his mysterious half smile. His other hand stroked over my hip and down my stomach.
“No female has ever been invited to see my private bedroom. Let me have my way now and you can be the first.” He rubbed the soft whiskers of his cheek against the side of my breast.
“Said the spider to the fly,” I retorted, moving away from his questing lips with a smile. “I know perfectly well why no female has ever seen your private bedroom. The poor things can’t make it alive past your couch test of endurance!”
“You seem alive to me.” Luke’s chuckle was deep and wicked, as his exploring hand tickled lower and had me sucking in my tummy and my breath.
“And kicking, so don’t you dare move that magic thumb one centimeter more, Mr. Insatiable, or I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Luke’s face lit up with a lecherous grin from ear to ear. Of course he’d take being called insatiable as a term of endearment. Of course he moved his thumb one centimeter immediately.
This man wouldn’t blush if I called him sweet, sensitive, or a good listener—he’d be slightly insulted and wonder where he had gone wrong that I thought he was such a girl. A truthful, teasing comment on his prowess and stamina was much more to his liking, and I like that in a man. I have plenty of female girlfriends.
Closing my eyes, I felt my traitorous hips move a little and my treacherous thighs part a bit. Reaching far down inside for an ounce of willpower, I tried to resist the lure of my unfathomable lust for Luke.
I have such a busy day ahead of me and the schedule loomed in my head.
“I need to go…” I wailed when he started sucking and licking my breast and both my nipples responded by stiffening into begging erect points.
“What we need is a shower,” Luke corrected decisively, and once again I was scooped up without permission and carried.
‘Well, it was true a bath was on my To Do list the minute I got home anyway. Sharing a shower here wouldn’t mess with my schedule and would save on water consumption.’
There was also the incentive to go along with the program because I was wildly curious what it would be like to shower with a man. Since I don’t do sleepovers, my dating history with men never included bathing together. Mike and I both lived at home when we had a relationship. We had spent the occasional stolen night together after he moved to the U dorms, but roommates were always around somewhere. Anyway, I wouldn’t have showered in the dorm’s unisex bathrooms if you put me in a wet suit and flippers and then threatened me at gunpoint.
Luke stopped every few feet to continue lavishing my breasts with attention. Simply being carried to the bathroom was incredibly fun, but the shower didn’t disappoint, either. The fact that my feet didn’t touch the floor once really impressed me.
Forty minutes later, I was waiting at the entrance of the barn for Luke to pick me up in our truck. I’ve never had such a good time getting so thoroughly clean, but I could understand if walking like a bowlegged cowgirl after too long on horseback was humiliating to some women. Leaning against the door, I contentedly decided walking funny was a small price to pay for dating a man endowed with a huge libido and a matching sized wienerschnitzel.
My pygmy soldier outfit was back on, except for the boots. Those heavy clodhoppers I left in the barn’s office. I have a blister on the bottom of each foot the size of a quarter from sliding around in them last night. Since I hadn’t brought any other sensible shoes and couldn’t face high heels, I wore only some socks. My wet hair was piled up under Crookie’s hat. I figured since I was going straight home the fashion police wouldn’t care. At least this morning I was wearing leggings and not going bareback underneath a dress.
Pulling out my phone, I saw an email from NanaBel and started reading her news with a smile. My smile turned into a grin when my grandmother told me to check out her safe. The hassle of shopping for a new gun was now resolved for the time being.
NanaBel’s comments on Aunt Lily’s behavior and crazy brain were uncomfortably thought provoking. The unchecked, flourishing evil concept about Aunt Lily was too accurate to ignore. I may have to accept a small responsibility towards contributing to the demise of Cheryl Crookston. The uncomfortable part was realizing, after considering the bigger picture, I could live with this on my conscience with no problem.
Shivering, I hoped I wasn’t morphing into some kind of stone-cold killer woman after my rampage of violence this past weekend. Beating up Larissa’s ex, defending myself by co-killing his horrible sidekick, and then having much too good of a time taunting Aunt Lily on her way to a fatal heart attack left me on shaky ground here.
‘Oh man, plus I gave Svettie the boot!’ That sinking feeling was in my gut again. ‘Has my enormous lust for Luke brought me back to the uncivilized basics and I’m now nothing but a primordial predator living by her alpha female instincts?’
I read on, determined to think about my lustful nature issues later when my cha-cha wasn’t so sore, but I was frowning again immediately.
‘Holy Hell, Jazy is seriously getting together with James Byrd?’
The news Jazy was not just hooking up with James Byrd, but considering having a thing was troubling. Jaz may flit from man to man like a busy worker bee in a field of clover, but I hated to see her settle for a man that showed such disinterest in her. His signals of coming on to me were icky enough since he was with my little sister, but now they’re plain gross. I definitely wouldn’t blow this news off.
NanaBel’s comment on Luke’s athleticism brought on a laugh. I didn’t know my grandfather. He died long before I was born in the Viet Nam “conflict”. If he was anything like Luke, it went a long way towards my better understanding why NanaBel never remarried.
I know it was unusual that I shared more of my personal feelings with my grandmother than any other woman my age, but it has always been that way with us. I didn’t tell her every detail, like in the case of my break-up with Mike McClain and Candy’s involvement. However, she knew more about the real adult me than any person in my life.
I left a brief voice mail regarding the gun in my grandmother’s safe for Mr. Charles Barkley, my banker and NanaBel’s lifetime good friend. Putting my cell in the backpack, I went down the ramp to meet Luk
e at the beep of the truck’s horn. It was already much warmer out than yesterday and the early morning was full of dripping sounds around me as Monday’s snow began to melt.
Luke got out and came around to my side, but paused with a wide grin on his dark face when he saw my outfit in all its glory in the daylight. I curtsied, but ruined the saucy effect with a painful grimace. The Devil was laughing as he kissed me on the cheek and effortlessly boosted me into the truck’s passenger seat. I was grateful for his assistance because I honestly didn’t think I could have made it up on my own without tearing ligaments or ripping soft tissue.
Luke climbed inside behind the wheel and then hesitated with a quick flourish of drumming fingers on the wheel. This drumming tell was always a sign something’s on his mind, so I casually popped a mint into my mouth and offered him the roll while I waited. My mouth was minty fresh from brushing my teeth, but my stomach was growling.
He helped himself to a mint and then remarked absently, “By the way, John got here a couple of hours ago for the weekend. Got room at the inn for another mouth tomorrow?”
I rolled my eyes and sniggered, “Sure, he’s pretty small. I’ll squeeze him in somewhere.” I muttered, “Just not next to Jazy.”
I shuddered, not knowing which would be a worse fate for a girl—John, the fuck and runner, or James “The Sleazy Shaman” Byrd. That aside, the news that Luke’s partner at work was here again so soon was revealing. Luke did not seem to be the weekend houseguest sort of man and he was having a houseful this Thanksgiving between his parents, what’s her name, and now John.
He chuckled at my shudder, but was soon frowning slightly while looking down the drive towards the bomb-strafed lane leading to the lake road. At his hesitation, I knew my guess was on target.
‘There was another way off the property!’
Adjusting the blowing heat vents, I waited patiently while Luke debated internally if he should put his precious truck through the terrors of that drive or confide in me.