Pole Dance

by J. A. Hornbuckle

  "Baby?" he heard her call from the bathroom.

  "Right here, pretty girl." Shit! Even his voice sounded shaky. 'Get a fuckin' grip, would ya?'

  "Turn on the iPod, 'kay?"

  Glad to have something, anything to do, Jake reached behind him and turned on the music as his girl asked. Soon he heard the opening bars of Moby's Porcelain and watched as his gorgeous girl danced her way into the bedroom in her robe that was soon dropped as she twirled.

  Caitlin captured his eyes and held them as she danced, now only dressed in her ecru and lace bra and panty set--the same ones she wore the day they met--as she reached behind her to unclasp her bra. She threw her hair back as she slid the straps down her arms and let it fall from her hands before she moved to the end of the bed and raised her knee. Stopping suddenly, he watched as her eyes caught on the new picture hanging over their bed.

  "Wha…" she dragged her eyes back to his and swallowed thickly. "Oh, my God."

  Jake sat up and turned his eyes to look at the picture, too.

  It was a large blow up of Caitlin that he had snapped during her 'audition' as a pole dancer. She was in profile, leaning away from the pole, her head tipped back and her hands and legs wrapped around the gleaming brass.

  "Oh. My. God." she said a bit louder staring at her image. "When did you? How did you…"

  "Come here, Darlin'," Jake said as soft as his rumbley voice could get, and sat up straighter as she made her way to him, her eyes never leaving the picture. "Took it with my cell when you were, ah, too busy pretending that pole was me."

  Caitlin dragged her eyes back to his exclaiming, "I did not!"

  "Babe. You totally fuckin' did. Your panties were fuckin' soaked just thinkin' of moving on me like you were moving on that pole." He was smiling as he tugged her down so she was captured, caught in the space of his body. He leaned in, touching his forehead to hers before moving his mouth to her ear. "And I was so hard, I thought it was gonna break off."

  Caitlin leaned back and turned so she could kiss him. "Okay, maybe I was. A little," she admitted with a giggle.

  Jake slid his hand underneath the pillow and snagged the black box. "You caught a piece of my heart, pretty girl, right there--right at that moment." He glanced back up at the picture and Cait had to strain to hear his next words.

  "And every time I was with you after that, you'd catch a little more and a little more until you had it all, pretty girl." He moved her closer and brought her forehead to his again. "Know it's soon, maybe too soon. But it's important to me, yeah?"

  She pulled back and looked into his eyes, her head tilted. "What's too soon, Jake?"

  He held the black box out to her, his hand no longer shaking, firm in the knowledge that what happened next was how it was supposed to be, meant to be.

  He watched his girl as she opened the box. Saw the shocked look on her face before she threw herself at him, tumbling them both back on the bed until her mouth was glued to his. Jake pushed her back a bit, so he could see her face.

  "So, I'm getting' you like it?" He asked moving her hair off her face.

  "It's exactly what I wanted," she replied moving her lips back to his. He pushed her back before they connected.

  "Aren't you gonna unwrap it?"

  "Unwrap it? Uhm. Okay."

  He watched as she fumbled around in the bedcovers to snag the box and pull out the piece of candy that he had nestled in there. She glanced at him as she began to unwrap it then stopped, in fact her whole body seemed to stop as she saw what was inside the candy wrapper.

  "Steady, pretty girl," Jake said doing an ab curl up to whisper in her ear. "It's just a ring."

  He caught her glittering eyes.

  "So, will you?" he asked moving to slip the chocolate diamond, pillow cut, solitaire on her finger.

  "M-marry you?" Her voice was thick and her words slow.

  Jake nodded gazing at the ring, his ring, firmly seated on her finger.

  "I'd love to, Baby," she replied moving her eyes from the ring back up to his face. She leaned forward and kissed him softly. He watched her for a moment longer as she stilled, holding her hand out to admire her ring.

  He sighed softly and shook his head. "Okay, Darlin'. Go for it."

  Caitlin didn't have to be asked twice. She threw herself off the bed disregarding her lack of clothes and lifted her hands in the air yelling, "Score!", fingers thrust in 'metal horns' as she twirled, pranced and jiggled her happy dance of joy.

  *.*.*.*.*

  I hope you enjoyed reading Pole Dance as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please take a quick moment to rate and give feedback as I'm always looking to improve my writing.

  About The Author

  J.A. Hornbuckle currently living in Arizona, but who is, as ever, getting the urge to move on. She's lived or traveled through forty-three of the fifty states here in the U.S. and has even lived in Wales and England.

  J.A. is an avid reader and calls her Kindle, "Boyfriend". She loves live music, red wine, Arizona in the winter and anything written by Kristen Ashley, Jessica Sorenson or Colleen Hoover.

  She's been writing since she was young but has just now discovered that she has stories that other people enjoy.

  She's currently working on Book 2 of the Dance series, TAP DANCE, which will continue the story of Marianne, Ram and Paul and their tangled but oh-so-fun to watch triangle.

  Also in progress is the HUMAN HIEROGLYPHIX trilogy which will have a book on each of the co-owners of the tattoo parlor located next to Fuego's. The first book of HH is called 'Metamorphic' and revolves around Dex Nelson and Leila McCarthy, an English Professor at the University who, after hearing some disparaging remarks about her looks, decides to transform herself…and her first step in this transformation is getting a tattoo from the gorgeous Dex.

  Feel free to communicate with J.A. at mail@jahornbuckle.com

  Or connect with her through her blog : www.jahornbuckle.com

  Excerpt from Metamorphic, Book One of the Human Hieroglyphix Series:

  I was early for my appointment at Human Hieroglyphix. I sat in my car and ran my eyes over each and every letter in the neon sign. I didn't want to forget this moment, ever. This was a big step for me; a huge, earth-shaking step for me.

  I had dressed with care, wearing my new black yoga pants and a white button down shirt with a jean jacket I had found stuffed in the back of my coat closet. I had trouble with my shoes, though, and had ended up simply wearing a old battered pair of Keds. On a whim, I had taken my long, long hair and put it high up on my crown and braided the length of it, making a thick braid that cascaded over my shoulder and laid over the top of my breast. I was going for casually chic, if I understood the term correctly from my magazine studies.

  Taking a big, deep breath I steeled myself before grabbing my bag and heading towards the front door.

  It may have been an award winner for years but it was in a questionable part of town. There was Fuego's, one of the town's topless bars, on one side and I saw that Bewitchments, the town's only sex shop, located on the other side of the strip club.

  Nice, I thought beeping my locks.

  I could hear the music before I was even close to the door. I stopped to look before I went in to, what appeared to be, an upscale shop. Clean with gorgeous pictures of tattoos in huge frames lining the walls. There was a girl behind the counter, her hair a strange short cut that was white blonde with bright, hot pink tips dancing to some kind of pulsating, almost erotic music that was pouring loudly from hidden speakers.

  I opened the door and saw her turn towards me with a small guilty smile as she reached down and the volume of the music lowered.

  "Gotta just love Fiddy, right?" She said with a crack of her gum.

  I had absolutely no idea what she meant with that question but I recognized the voice, and the popping of the gum.

  "Crystal, right?" I asked.

  She tilted her head as her eyes raked me up and down.

  "I'm Leila. Dex's four
o'clock?" I prompted.

  "Oh, yeah. Right." She said dropping her eyes as she fiddled with some paperwork on the desktop sunk below my eyesight.

  "You need to fill out these three pages in full and sign here, here and here," she explained without raising her eyes. "If I could just get your ID, I'll get a copy made."

  I dug my wallet out of my bag wondering what I'd done or said that caused her to close down between the 'Fiddy' and me saying her name.

  "Uhm, Crystal? What's a 'Fiddy'?" I asked and watched her drag her eyes, her heavily mascaraed eyes to mine. They were a beautiful navy blue and gorgeous in spite of the ridiculously clumped, eyelashes.

  "You're shittin' me," she whispered.

  "Uh, no, I'm really not."

  "Fiddy is Fifty Cent." She enunciated very carefully. At my blank look she continued. "You know, that rapper guy? Real name is Curtis somethin'-or-other."

  I shook my head and watched her tilt her head again in confusion.

  "You never heard of Fiddy?" she asked quietly but incredulously.

  "Sorry, no," I replied equally as quiet handing her my ID and picking up the clipboard.

  "What about Pink?" she asked watching me fill in the questionnaire.

  "Who?" I asked raising my eyes back up to hers realizing that I had asked 'who' instead of 'what' like my mind was telling me to ask. I watched as she did a slow blink.

  "Pink! You know," and I watched as this glorious girl, this wisp of a woman began singing strong, in one of the most beautiful voices I'd ever heard, singing one of the most heart breaking songs I'd ever heard.

  I was stunned.

  I was overwhelmed.

  I was, in short, awed.

  "What was that?" I asked quietly, still overcome, blinking the tears back.

  I saw her take in the full of my face.

  "Pink's, Who Knew."

  "Wow," I whispered, recognizing that that was my operative word for that day.

  "Mean it?" she asked, and with that question I caught a glimpse of Crystal's scars. Scars as deep as my own.

  The lump in my throat grew bigger at the view and I could only nod.

  "Where've you been, Leila? The moon?" she laughed.

  "Practically," I said laughing with her and trying really hard not to sniff.

  She reached under the counter and handed me a tissue. As she bent I noticed that what I had originally thought was a long sleeved top, made of beautiful flowers with black leaves and stems, were actually her tattoos. Full tattoos from her shoulders to her wrists on both arms.

  Amazing.

  "Looks like Dex is running late," she said apropos of nothing.

  "How about you turn up Mr. Fiddy and teach me some of your moves?" I asked wiping my eyes and nose.

  And we were stretching and stepping, rolling and dipping, giggling as we moved to the primal beats of what Crystal said was 'Candy Shop' when all of a sudden she stopped and ran behind the counter to turn the music down. I stopped, too, unsure what was going on.

  "Ah, hey, Dex," she said straightening her cute tank top that was emblazoned with some sort of wording that had long since flaked off. "How's it going?" she continued, pulling up her low riding camouflage pants.

  I turned, pushing up my glasses, to see who she was talking to and almost fell on my ass.

  It was him.

  It. Was. Him.

  Oh, shit.

  *.*.*.*.*

  He'd told her and told her but Crystal never listened.

  He hated rap.

  He hated hip hop.

  And he absolutely hated music played so loud that the fucking windows shook.

  And he especially hated it when she invited her skanky friends around to keep her company when she was bored.

  "What the fuck, Crys," he yelled as soon as he cleared the door.

  "Uhm, Dex?"

  "Don't fucking 'uhm Dex' me, Crys. Not in the mood, all right?" Fuck, but she pissed him off when she did stupid shit and lately all she did do was stupid shit. Swear to God, good buddy or no, Crys was gonna have to go.

  "You got the fuckin' deposit ready?" he barked not even sparing a glance towards her friend as he moved to the counter.

  "Uh, Dex, this is your four o'clock. You know, a customer?" Crys said with a shake in her voice that wasn't laughter. She was scared.

  Scared.

  Of him.

  Christ!

  He shook his head.

  "Didn't I tell you yesterday that I wasn't available tonight?"

  He watched as Crys glanced over at the other girl with an apologetic look.

  "Well, didn't I?"

  Crystal stared back at him.

  Fuck.

  "Okay, babe. What's it you want? A shamrock, a star or a heart on what? Your wrist, your ankle, your forehead?" He could hear his voice and he sounded like a dick even to his own ears.

  He sighed.

  Not the best customer service skills.

  He turned towards the other girl, the one that was standing on the customer side of the table.

  And he saw that she wasn't a girl.

  She was a woman.

  With womanly curves.

  Who was blinking her big brown, no make-up, eyes slowly at him. From behind some fuckin' thick, rimmed glasses. Her full, pretty, pink mouth was still stuck in the 'o' position of tonight's program.

  "Sorry," he said. "I'm Dex. And I'm a dickhead."

  "Hello, Dex," she said right on cue, seeming to catch on to his reference to an AA opening and colored prettily as she responded back.

  "I can arrange another time if you want," she offered softly in her musical voice.

  He silently sighed. He hadn't had two full days off in, he couldn't remember how long and had really been lookin' forward to it. But, truth be told, he was almost bored with that much time on his hands which is why he had come back into the shop.

  Or, if you prefer, to confirm to one and all that he really was a complete and total dickhead.

  "What were you looking to get, gorgeous?" he asked, trying to make nice.

  "Uhm, this," she said pulling a page from her enormous handbag and laid it on the counter between them.

  This.

  Holy shit.

  "It's a Blue Pansy," she said softly.

  "Junonia Orithya," he said softly giving it it's full Latin name.

  "Also known as the Blue Argus in Australia," she murmured bringing her warm chocolate eyes to his green ones.

  "But also known as the Eyed Pansy in Africa. Its only called the Blue Pansy in India."

  "You know your butterflies, sir," she said looking back down at the piece of paper in front of them.

  "Only the beautiful ones," he replied, never taking his eyes off her.

  "So will you do it?"

  "Would love to, babe," and was surprised to find that he meant it.

  "Crys, load 'em before you leave. It'll take me a few to get set up, right?" he called over his shoulder as he removed the Henley thermal he was wearing and moved towards the back into a cubicle, his upper torso only clad in a white wife beater.

  "And run the pic thru the machine." he yelled. "I'm gonna need it as crisp as possible."

  He heard Crys say almost reverently, "He's gonna do it, Leila."

  His ears caught the beginning of a girly squeals of delight before the sound of the faucet cut them off.

  He smiled at the sound.

  *.*.*.*.*

  "Okay, so here's what we're gonna do tonight. I've got a flash made of your picture, and it's a beauty. So I'm gonna transfer that onto your skin and then I'm gonna do the outline, right?"

  He watched her nod in reply. She was spread out on the chair underneath the bright light, her eyes glowing behind her glasses as she listened carefully to what he was saying.

  "You want to include the pupa in it, right?"

  "Yes," she replied. "I need…I mean, I want to show the cocoon in the background and the full butterfly."

  "Progression," he said just to clarify. />
  He watched her beautiful mouth tilt up in a soft grin as her blush crept up her face.

  "Progression," he heard her say softly.

  "Okay, Babe. Where do you want this masterpiece?"

  "Sorry?"

  "Where on your body do you want your tattoo?" he said trying but failing to curb his smile.

  "My hip," she replied.

  "Your hip? Okay, I need a little bit more clarification here. You see, to some, a hip is a part of their ass…"

  "Here."

  And he watched as this gorgeous but unworldly woman lifted her shirt and pulled her stretchy pants down, exposing the creamiest skin he had ever seen, and pointed to the curve on her side. Just below her waist but before the flare of her hips, it was his most favorite of the sweet spots on a woman.

  "Okay. So your gonna need to shift away from me and lean forward a bit . You gonna be okay with that? Holding your pants outta the way and all?"

  He watched as she moved onto her left side, away from him and pulled her shirt up and her stretchy pants down exposing the deep curve of her waist and the gentle upward thrust of her hip.

  Beauty.

  He felt his cock stir at the sight but shut that shit down immediately. He was a professional for God's sake.

  Crys came by, purse and jacket in hand.

  "You leavin'?" he asked checking his machine making sure all exposed parts were covered and that it ran with a gentle smooth hum.

  "Yeah. Hey Leila, it was fun."

  "Crystal, are you busy tomorrow? Because I need to go shopping and could use some advice. There's going to be a couple others with us but I'd really like to have you there if you could make it."

  "Cool. What's your number?" and he watched as Crys programmed it into her phone. "What time?"