Tricks

by Cambria Hebert

  I glanced over at the bar. Blondie and her dark-headed friend waved. I hitched my chin at them in thanks. They giggled and turned around.

  “Ho bags,” Charlotte muttered.

  Beer sprayed all over the table when I began to choke. “What did you just say?” I asked in a strained voice.

  She gave me a stare. “What self-respecting woman sends drinks to a man who is sitting with another woman?” she asked, her cheeks actually flushing.

  I grinned. “Is someone jealous?”

  She seemed to be very unhappy about that. She finished off her beer and stood up. Guess she wasn’t jealous; she was pissed. She was probably leaving.

  She wasn’t leaving.

  I watched as she unbuttoned the blazer she wore and slid it off her arms. Beneath it she was wearing a sleeveless, white silk top that had some kind of extra fabric around the neck that tied in a bow. It kinda looked like a scarf. Hell if I knew anything about women’s fashion.

  The shirt hugged her perky, round breasts and revealed a tight-fitting skirt that hugged her ass like a glove. She shook out her blond locks, tangling them around her shoulders, and then she leaned over the table, picked up one of the shots and saluted the girls at the bar.

  The girls’ eyes widened and Charlotte downed the shot in a single gulp. The empty shot glass made a heavy thud when she snapped it down on the tabletop.

  As the alcohol pushed down her throat, she grimaced, screwing up her face like it was the first shot she’d ever had.

  I couldn’t help but laugh.

  She sat back down and took a drink of my beer. “Did they see that?” she asked, eyes watering.

  I glanced back at our audience. The girls were no longer looking. Charlotte made her point. “Nope.”

  “That’s one thing about us lawyers,” she said. “We don’t like to lose.”

  Instead of replying, I downed one of the shots. Vodka.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, just drinking and listening to the music. I didn’t look at her. I was afraid if I did, she would remember what we were talking about before I went to the bathroom. But her movements caught my attention and I turned to her. She was swaying to the music from her seat.

  I looked at the table, littered with some empty bottles, shot glasses, and wine glasses.

  “How much have you had to drink, Charlie?”

  “A couple,” she said, slumping slightly in her seat. She reached for a beer and I pulled it out of her reach.

  “No more.” I knew the look of a tipsy woman.

  She stuck out her tongue at me.

  “Better keep that thing in your mouth unless you plan on using it,” I quipped before I could stop myself.

  “Saturday is…”—she paused and counted on her fingers—“three days away.”

  “So?” I asked, wondering what kind of drunken conversation this was going to be.

  She wagged her eyebrows at me.

  I laughed.

  The waitress came by and I asked her to bring some water for Charlotte.

  “This was fun,” she said, giving me a smile.

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “Your voice is amazing. I never knew you could sing like that.”

  “Thanks.” Music was just a hobby. Something to pass the time when I was over in the sand. It was a way to deal with all the shit we saw over there. I hadn’t really meant to start singing, but as soon as my fingers hit the chords on that guitar, it bubbled up out of me and I let it.

  “I have to pee,” she announced but didn’t get up.

  “You know that requires the bathroom, right?”

  She giggled. “Duh. I’m not drunk.”

  “No, but you sure as hell are amusing.”

  She rolled her eyes. I liked seeing her like this. Relaxed. She stood and stepped around the table. Of course she wasn’t watching where she was going and her foot caught on the leg of my chair and she stumbled.

  Right into my lap.

  She fit perfectly.

  She squeaked and I wrapped my arms around her.

  “These damn heels hurt my feet,” she whined.

  “Then why do you wear them?”

  She lifted one of her long legs up into the air. “They make my legs look good.”

  “Yes, yes, they do,” replied the man sitting behind our table.

  My entire body tensed. I whipped around quickly, making Charlotte wrap her arms around my neck to keep balance.

  “You looking at my woman’s legs?” I asked, my voiced deadly calm.

  He glanced at me. “Well, she was showin’ ‘em off.”

  “If you wanna keep your teeth, I suggest turning around.”

  Charlotte gasped. “Max!”

  The guy turned around, muttering in his seat. I grabbed ahold of her thigh and pushed her leg down. “I know how nice your legs are, darlin’, but no one else in here needs to.”

  She sighed and laid her cheek against my shoulder.

  It felt nice.

  What. The. Fuck.

  What the hell was I doing right now? Calling her my woman. Calling her darlin’? Calling out some dude for checking her out…

  I was losing my damn mind. What the hell was in that vodka? And now here she was sitting in my lap with her head on my shoulder and I was enjoying it.

  “Weren’t you going to the ladies’ room?” I asked her.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  I helped her up so she didn’t fall on those shoes again and watched her make her way to the bathroom. I knew I was acting crazy, but even knowing it wasn’t enough to not keep my eye on her as she went.

  When the waitress came back around, I handed her some cash to settle up the bill and tip. The girls at the bar came sauntering over, and I wanted to groan. I had my hands full enough tonight with Charlotte. Usually I would welcome more than one woman’s attention, but it seemed that Charlie required a lot more looking after than most.

  “We liked your song,” the brunette said, stopping beside my chair. She was pretty hot, with light-blue eyes and sleek, long hair.

  “Thanks,” I said, giving them a polite smile.

  All thoughts of taking one of them home had vanished from my mind completely.

  “Did your sister leave?” the blonde asked, and I had to give her props for her cleverness. Most guys would be leading them out of the bar already.

  “I’m not his sister.” A voice came from behind us.

  I spun in my seat to see Charlotte standing there with her hands on her hips and her head cocked to the side. She didn’t even look at me. Instead, she regarded the women with a cool, level stare.

  “Well, you couldn’t possibly be with him,” the brunette responded.

  “And why is that?”

  Oh shit, this was going downhill fast. I stood up between the women. “Well, we gotta get going.”

  They ignored me.

  “Because you don’t exactly look like the type someone like him would date.”

  I was offended. For me and for Charlotte.

  “Well, I guess he has better taste than skank,” Charlie spat.

  I stifled a laugh.

  Then she started pulling off the heels she was just complaining about and brandishing one like a weapon.

  Time to go.

  I wrapped my arms around her waist and towed her up against my side. “Down, girl.” After snatching our suit jackets off the chairs, I practically carried her out onto the sidewalk where the cold air greeted us.

  “Put me down,” she complained.

  “Only if you promise not to clobber me with your shoe.”

  She laughed. “I promise.”

  I put her down, keeping my arm out just in case she stumbled.

  “I’m not drunk,” she said, giving me an evil look.

  “Well, you sure as hell aren’t sober.”

  “It’s freezing out!”

  “Put your shoe on.” I reminded her dryly.

  She put it on and fell over in the process. I rolled my eyes and ben
t down to pick her up off the pavement.

  “Okay, maybe I’m a little tipsy.” She allowed as I hauled her up.

  “Ya think?”

  She fell against my chest and her head fell back so she could look up into my face. “Did I tell you I liked your song?”

  “Yeah.” My eyes wandered down to her lips.

  She watched me watch her. “You can, you know,” she said softly.

  The blood was pumping through my veins at an extraordinary speed. It felt like I had a jackhammer inside my body and it was creating all kinds of chaos.

  I lowered my face a little bit more so our lips barely grazed one another. She sighed and her eyes drifted closed.

  Maybe the perfect guy could resist such an action.

  Charlotte already pointed out that I was not perfect.

  I pulled her even farther against me, lifting her feet up off the pavement completely, and her hands came up to wrap around my biceps, holding tightly as my mouth staked its claim.

  God, her mouth was sinful. And hot. Her kisses were a direct contrast to the wind blowing around us, and I wrapped my other arm around her, holding her firmly in place so my tongue could delve past her lips and explore the depths of her mouth.

  She tasted like beer (my favorite) and I growled as I licked even farther into her mouth. Her tongue met mine and they twisted together as our lips smashed against one another, desperately trying to get closer.

  Her deep inhale pressed her chest against me and even through our clothes I could feel her rock-hard nipples standing at attention. One of my hands slid down and cupped her luscious ass, tilting her body even closer. But it wasn’t close enough. I wanted her legs wrapped around my waist. I wanted to feel the sleek moisture between her legs coat my abs and cock.

  One of her hands slid up the back of my head, her fingers threading into my short hair and creating friction against my scalp.

  Holy shit, I wanted to push up her skirt and do her right here on the sidewalk. I didn’t even care who saw. Never in my life had my body demanded sex more.

  She pulled her mouth away, gasping for breath, and her head fell forward so that her forehead rested against mine.

  A little shiver started at her feet and shook her body. I pulled back, slowly sliding her down the front of my body. I knew she could feel the hard length of me; there was no hiding it.

  “Here,” I said, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears. I lifted up her blazer and held it out so she could slip her arms inside.

  “Thanks,” she said softly as I buttoned up the waist. When I was finished, my hands lingered a little bit longer than needed in the area just below her breasts.

  “Come on,” I said, draping an arm over her shoulder and tucking her against my side. We started walking as I kept my eye out for a cab.

  It wasn’t a far walk, but it was late and cold outside. Of course this would be the one night I didn’t see any of the usual one dozen cabs flying dangerously over the streets. “Looks like we might have to walk the whole way.”

  “I don’t mind. I like to walk. It’s good for thinking.”

  “And what do you think about when you walk, Charlie?”

  I felt her shrug under my arm and I didn’t push. I already felt like I learned a lot about her tonight. Usually learning anything other than a woman’s bra size was just too much information for me, but for some reason, Charlotte was different.

  “Are you ever going to tell me what’s going on with you?” she asked as we walked.

  “Am I really that different lately?” I’m not sure why I wanted a play-by-play of how miserable at being Max I really was, but I guess I was a glutton for punishment. He always was the one that had his shit together.

  “I’ve been worried.”

  “Don’t worry,” I told her. I wanted to add that everything was going to be okay, but I couldn’t promise her that because things weren’t okay right now.

  Up the street I heard a car approaching and I turned to see a cab heading our way. I pulled away from Charlie to step up to the curb and hail it down.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  16

  Charlotte

  I loved watching him move. He had this way about him, this confidence that drew the eye. His shoulders seemed more square, his posture a little more straight. What’s more, I loved the way he felt when he moved against me.

  I thought I might die when he picked me up off the pavement, leaving my feet to dangle in the late-night air. I had been suspended. Suspended in moments of perfect bliss, where all I could feel was the hard contours of his body, his vise-like arms anchoring me against him, and the way his mouth felt moving over mine.

  The erection in his pants had been mildly startling but completely alluring. Just feeling it press against my abdomen made my panties feel slick with moisture.

  My body ached inside. It felt coiled with need. It begged for release as if it knew the next time Max and I were together, it would be far more satisfying than it had ever been.

  I smiled to myself, all the alcohol I ingested making me feel relaxed and carefree. He stepped away from me, toward the curb to hail a cab. I stepped backward so I could lean up against the building. My shoulders hit the wall first, but it wasn’t nearly as cold as I expected the contact to be. In fact, it didn’t feel right at all.

  I realized I hadn’t backed into a wall.

  But a man.

  His arm snapped around my waist, roughly yanking me all the way against his body. I started to squeal, but the feeling of icy cold metal against the side of my head had me biting off any sound.

  He had a gun. He was holding it to my head.

  I was literally seconds away from a bullet plowing into my brain and ending my life.

  Forever.

  My eyes, already leaking tears, found Max where he stood at the street, his arm in the air. I wasn’t ready to die.

  “Give me your purse,” the man demanded in my ear.

  I whimpered and held it out.

  Another man appeared in front of me. He too was holding a gun… He was also wearing a black ski mask.

  He snatched the bag out of my hand, and over his shoulder, I saw Max begin to turn.

  “Max, run!” I screamed, risking getting shot to warn him. As I yelled, I forced my body to go slack. The man holding the gun to my head cursed and grappled to hold on to my body as I dropped toward the ground.

  I heard a shout and the pounding of feet, but I didn’t see what was happening because the gunman grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me back. He pulled so hard black spots appeared before my eyes. I cried out, unable to keep the sound of pain inside.

  He jerked me so hard it kept me from hitting the ground. Instead, my knees hit the pavement, scraping over the rough concrete. As I knelt there, completely at his mercy, he forced the gun up under my chin, stabbing the delicate flesh on the underside.

  “Come any closer and she’ll be dead before you blink,” the voice above me cautioned.

  I forced my watering eyes open to focus on Max, who was standing just a couple feet away with a gun pointed directly at his chest by gunman number two. Instead of rifling through my purse, he was holding it like he didn’t even care about it, dangling it over the ground without a second thought.

  He kept his eyes on Max, while Max kept his eyes on me.

  “Let her go. It’s me you want,” he said.

  I know my hair was being pulled really hard, but I’m pretty sure my brain still worked and that sentence made no sense. They wanted our money, not him.

  “Give me your wallet,” gunman number two demanded of Max.

  Max’s eyes narrowed and flicked over to him. He didn’t look scared. He looked pissed. He also made no move to grab his wallet.

  “Give it to him!” the man holding me screamed and twisted his hand a little bit more. I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I looked at the ground, searching for something I might be able to use as a weapon.

  This had to be the only street in
New York that had spotless sidewalks.

  Max looked at me again, trying to tell me something with his eyes. Get ready to move.

  Then he glanced away. “I’m going to reach around to my back pocket and get my wallet,” he said slowly. It seemed to take forever for his arm to finally reach around and find his back pocket.

  “Hurry up!” the man holding me yelled and jammed the gun into my skin. I couldn’t help it; I yelped. My skin burned with pain as tears filled my eyes. I waited for the popping sound of the gun. I waited for my life to end.

  Max jerked his wallet out and extended it. Gunman number two reached for it, but Max had other ideas. Moving more quickly than I’d ever seen him move, he sprang into action, throwing the wallet at the man and knocking the gun out of his hand. It landed with a hard thunk on the pavement and Max kicked it, sending it skittering into the street and away from the man who was wielding it.

  I watched as he quickly twisted the man’s arm around his back so hard I heard his shoulder pop out of place. The man cried out and hunched over. Max was ready and brought his knee up, ramming it right into the masked face.

  “Move!” he yelled at me.

  I didn’t think.

  I twisted to the side, sinking my teeth into the meaty flesh of my assailant’s thigh, and bit down.

  So nasty.

  Who knew where his thigh had been…

  But a girl had to do what a girl had to do.

  He screamed and I released my teeth, pushing up to run away.

  I got two steps.

  He hit me in the back, swinging the gun around and catching me right in the center. Pain exploded between my shoulders and I fell, landing on my hands and knees. I pushed up, but the man grabbed my ankle, causing me to fall back down, flat on my face. With him still holding my ankle, I spun, flipping over to see him (He was also wearing a mask) tower over me.

  He grinned a maniacal grin beneath the black fabric and raised the gun. “You can’t outrun a bullet.”

  Max plowed into him from behind, coming in low like some kind of out of control linebacker. He wrapped his arms around the man’s waist and pushed off the pavement, ramming the gunman into the brick building.

  The two men sprawled out on the sidewalk with Max on top. He drew back his fist and landed several solid punches before the gunman flipped them and pinned Max to the ground.