Passing the first room, I enter the space with the dance floor on the right and a bar down the center, people filling in on all sides. At the back of the place and on the edge of the dance floor sits another bar. Everything in the place is black except for the raised wood dance floor.
I pass all the loitering patrons and step up to dance near the stage, which they use on the odd occasion that they have a live band. The big black speakers pound out Jane’s Addiction’s “Been Caught Stealing,” and I immediately get lost in the rhythm, grinding to the beat, eyes closed.
I’m not sure how much time passes but soon, I’m surrounded by my workmates. Jacy has her hair up in a thick braid starting at the top of her head and she’s swinging it around, keeping people out of her immediate vicinity. Tee is dancing between and around us, no girlfriend in sight. Jill, Monica, and Brad are there too.
When the music switches over to a Red Hot Chili Peppers’ song, I walk out to the front bar and reach over the side to grab a clear Solo cup. The bartender nods to me. At the water dispenser next to the bar, I fill the cup and drink. I think about going outside to cool off but decide to dance more first.
Walking back, I see my group has migrated to the other end of the dance floor. I go around to the far steps and look up. A guy across the way is staring at me. My soul riveted, I no longer hear the music or the sounds coming from the bar. I amble toward him as he does the same. Neither of us speaks at first.
“Corey,” he finally says.
“Katness, but most people just call me Kat.”
He holds out his hand and enfolds mine in his. A pulse of energy takes hold and affects every cell of my body. I shake slightly.
“Let’s dance,” he says, tugging me out to the center of the floor.
Our bodies synchronize as he easily guides me to the beat of “Never There” by Cake. We sway back and forth, Corey lowering us to a squat and dancing up again. He stares at me while we dance. I’m so caught up in the moment, it’s almost like dancing with my eyes closed but with someone else. Intense and pure.
Several songs pass in a blur until he says, “I’m here with some friends and should probably—”
“Oh right, sure. Thanks for the dance,” I say, pulling away.
“Wait,” he says.
“Fucking crap! I can’t share that! He’ll think I’m an idiot for even trying.” On a whim, I Google the meaning of the name Tate, thinking there might be some Native American significance.
English meaning: Cheerful. Not!
Native American meaning: A man who talks too much. Double no!
Did his parents have any idea what they were doing when they named him? One obscure website listed Tate as meaning wind. Somehow, that one fit. Wind it is.
I clicked out of Google and combed through a few other files of my writing.
Thankfully, my phone rang, saving me from torturing myself with more of my bad writing.
“Yep,” I said.
“So?” Cat said.
“Shouldn’t you be tattooing someone’s ass?”
“Did you cut off his balls, or did you actually talk to him?”
I plopped down onto my unmade bed and lay back gently. “My tattoo is healing great. Thanks for asking.”
“Bluuuuue,” she whined.
“If I tell you, you will just push me, and I haven’t decided.”
“I promise to behave. Go for it.”
I rolled onto my left side and confessed, “He gave me his number. I might invite him to come on Wednesday to Red’s. Might being the operative word. He says he wants to be friends, but I think it’s merely because you pushed him into it.”
“A friend that plays with your clity?”
“Shut up, Cat. I was clear that I’m not interested in dating him, and he’s not looking for that either.”
“We could use some fresh blood in our group. Ask him to tag along.”
“Squeezing another alpha male into that group?” I laughed. “I’ll see what Bond says about it.”
“Who cares what Bond thinks? Just invite him. Maybe Samantha and Tate will hit it off.”
“I think it’s time to lay your matchmaking skills to rest.”
“Kevin says that all the time. I can’t help myself. So, chica, how was your visit with your mom?”
“Good, bad, and indifferent.” I sat up and scooted to the head of the bed.
“Care to be more specific?”
“She seems happy but failed to mention that she has a son. Daniel, her latest boyfriend, seemed surprised, although he handled the news well. My mom had on a dress, which was a nice change. I just hope she isn’t morphing herself into what she thinks Daniel wants. He’s retired and seems to have money. I never know with my mom. I love her, but she’s always seemed more like a sister than a mom.”
“Maybe she’s finally growing up.”
“One can hope. Have you heard from your mom?”
“Yeah, she said she was fine and to back the fuck off. She must be feeling better.”
“It’s a bit screwed up when you hope your mother reverts to a bitch. Ha!”
“It sure is. So what did you really think of Tate?”
“He’s a bit serious, don’t you think? Too much man for me and very hard to read. Interesting enough. He wants to read some of my work.”
“We all do.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“Bite the bullet, bitch. You can’t get better in a vacuum.”
“I’m the bitch? Mirror much?”
“Kisses on your ornery ass, my friend.”
I harrumphed and dissolved in giggles. “You’re too funny. Hey, did you suggest that we double date, ‘cause if you did—”
“Yes, I know, you’ll bury me under your ginormous breasts.”
“Boobs to you, lady.”
“Don’t call me lady! Bitch I can take, lady, never.”
We both cracked up.
“Is that a yes? You did suggest it or not?”
“Nope, it must have been his bright idea. Let’s!”
“Pass. Maybe Wednesday though.”
I spent the rest of the day editing my story repeatedly in an attempt to get it up to par. The dinner shift at The Chart House went relatively smoothly and after a shower, I crashed for the night.
CHAPTER FOUR
Do I Wanna Know?
by Arctic Monkeys
Unlike most people who dreaded the first official day of the workweek, I loved Mondays. I typically had the whole day off from work and took in a step aerobics class or two. I, unfortunately, had to pass because I usually wore two sports bras to hold me in tightly, one on top of the other. My new tattoo made that impossible. It was starting to itch, which I took as a good sign.
I printed out the first chapter from my book, Soul Adjacent, and left it on the table, still undecided if I could summon the courage to share it.
A text buzzed my phone¸ and I woke up the screen.
Bond: They called me to come in to the club tonight. I don’t have to stay late. Can you meet me there?
Me: What time?
Bond: 9:30?
Me: k. See you then.
Bond: Blue?
Me: Yes?
Bond: I’m looking forward to it.
Me: Me, not so much. :P
Bond: Your ass will pay for that.
Me: Promises, promises.
Bond: Itchy palm = a painful, red ass.
Me: See you soon. :*
Later that night, after showering and applying light makeup, I slipped into a blue printed handkerchief dress. The front didn’t dip too low and the back crisscrossed, leaving my tattoo uncovered. I loved the drape on the bias, and it matched perfectly with my strappy navy heels.
Once at the CroBar, the loud music assaulted my ears as I pulled on the heavy black door. A few patrons sat, tossing back their drinks. I found a stool at the corner of the bar closest to the deejay booth and lay my small handbag on the counter. I ordered an iced margarita and then str
olled over to Bond.
“Look at you,” he said, trailing his finger down the V in my dress. “I thought you don’t like to wear anything that shows cleavage.”
“Too much cleavage, and look,” I said, spinning around so he could see my tattoo.
Bond whistled. “It’s awesome. Hang on a sec.” He leaned over, blended the next song in, and stood back up. Arctic Monkeys’ Do I Wanna Know? began thumping out of the huge black speakers. “The tat’s better than I imagined.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised. Cat’s the best. Damn, you look sexy tonight.” He pulled me in close and kissed me.
His behavior took me by surprise and once he let me go, I scanned the place behind me to see if anyone was watching.
“Jacqs isn’t here,” he whispered into my ear, causing me to shiver.
I let out a slow breath and lowered my shoulders.
He kissed me again, passionately, pulling me tightly against him. His hands migrated to my ass and he grunted. My thong underwear left my globes uncovered for grabbing and he noticed. “Clint better get his ass here soon and let me out of this booth,” he grumbled.
I laughed and floated back over to the bar. Bond and I were like puzzle pieces that almost fit together but not quite. With him, my self-esteem floated high one minute and then plummeted the next. When I had to witness him with Jacqs, the way he looked at her, my heart crumpled a bit. I took a sip of my margarita, trying to focus on the positive, when a woman sat down next to me.
“Now I know,” she huffed.
Shifting to face her, I took in the gorgeous blonde-haired woman next to me. Long, flowing, wavy hair, bright green eyes assessing me, straight white teeth biting her lower lip.
“Were you talking to me?”
“Rory,” she said, holding out her hand.
Are we on an interview?
She straightened her shoulders as I had seen Jacqs do on a number of occasions when she became nervous. “And yes,” Rory continued. “I was talking to you. You’re Bond’s girlfriend, and I’ve been wondering why I haven’t been able to get him to ... notice...” She cleared her throat. “Ask me out, and now I know.”
“Contrary to appearances, I’m not the obstacle.” I removed the thin red straw from my cocktail and took a drink, tasting the salty rim.
“Come again?” She held her palm out to stop me from responding and leaned forward. “Hey Frank, can we get two more margaritas over here when you get the chance?” Frank waved from across the bar and Rory settled back into her seat. “So...”
Somehow, I knew she was asking for my name. “Judy.”
“So, Judy, did I not just see Bond aggressively necking with you?”
Necking? “Yes, well, it’s complicated. And as I said, I’m not the competition. I’m the filler.”
“Oh? I think I see. It’s the little one then? That’s a relief.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t get yourself in a huff,” she said, patting my thigh. “It was a compliment. You are ... well ... every man’s dream. I’m not into women, but for you, I might even change my mind. I don’t mind sharing.” She winked.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Is she coming on to me? “Compliment or not, you’re up against love and it doesn’t matter, in that case, what she looks like. Besides, Jacqs is a beauty inside and out.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Bond. Why not just become a threesome?”
I burst out laughing, wishing Cat or Lainie were there with me. They would completely appreciate the crazy conversation, not that they knew about Bond and me. I wasn’t about to tell this new woman Bond’s personal business or mention that a threesome already existed, only I wasn’t part of it.
Red, Jacqs, and Bond seemed to be making it work. How much longer it would last, was anyone’s guess, and we were all wondering.
“Sorry,” I snorted, struggling to get my outburst under control.
Frank kindly distracted us when he placed our drinks in front of us.
“Okay, so the threesome is out,” Rory said. “Why be second best?”
Ouch! Just take a sword and plunge right in, woman whom I don’t know at all. “A better question would be why are you stalking a man who clearly has his hands full?”
“If I told you, you’d just laugh.” Her bravado failed momentarily, and I saw behind the mask of confidence. I recognized a kindred spirit. We, all of us, are desperate to be loved and to find our own safe place to land. As my life sped by, that eventuality seemed less likely and sometimes it pulled me so far down, like the gravity keeping us glued to this planet. I felt sorry for her. “I won’t laugh,” I promised.
“He’s my soulmate. He’s just too distracted to recognize me.”
“What makes you think that?”
“It’s not a thinking, it’s a knowing. I felt it the day I started working here.”
“You work here? I didn’t realize.”
“It’s a part-time gig and I’m off tonight. I’m a kindergarten teacher during the day and I love it, but it doesn’t pay much. Thanks for not laughing. My older sister thinks I’m a silly girl that needs to grow up and is constantly trying to set me up with stiffs from her law firm. I couldn’t be further from their type. I’m not motivated by money and I have tattoos.”
“I just got one,” I said, turning my shoulder to show her.
“Wow. I mean, that’s incredible. The colors are so bright and it feels like the dragonfly is in flight. You must give me his card.”
I opened my small purse and found one. “Her. Here you go.”
“Awesome! I now know who I’m using for my next tattoo.” After she drank some of her margarita, she asked, “Any advice for me?”
“You’re asking me to help you get Bond?”
“Well ... I ... I don’t know what more I can do. I don’t want to make a nuisance of myself, but I can’t give up.”
“You’re clearly asking the wrong person. As I’ve been told on numerous occasions, timing is everything. Seems to me you need to be patient.”
“I’m not a patient person.”
“Well then, I’ve got nothing.” I waved to Frank.
“What can I do for you, beautiful?” Frank asked.
“Dos Equis for Bond and the tab, thanks.”
“Don’t let me run you off,” Rory said with her shoulders down and her bottom lip in a pout.
“It’s not that I lack empathy for your situation, it’s just that I can’t help you and honestly, if I could, I probably wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, I get that.” She sighed heavily and finished off her drink. “Don’t leave. I’m taking off anyway.”
“Hey girls,” Bond said, coming up behind us and startling us both.
I tilted my head up and Bond kissed my temple. “I ordered you a beer.”
“Let’s take it to go. Frank?”
Frank held up the bottle.
“Don’t open it.”
“Gotcha,” he said as he approached with the beer and the bill.
“Put that on my tab,” Bond said. “Rory’s too.” He gave her a wink.
I saw her face brighten, and I wanted to smack Bond. Men could be so dumb!
“Later,” he said to her and pulled me along with him. I looked back at Rory and shrugged.
Once upstairs, I stomped. “What the hell?”
“What the hell what?” he said calmly, walking into the kitchen and opening his beer.
“You’ve never been openly affectionate to me at the club and dude, you’re fucking blind.”
“Not my best choice but Blue, have you looked at yourself in the mirror? I couldn’t help myself. And blind?”
“Rory. Leave that girl alone,” I shouted over the music pounding through the floor of the apartment.
“She’s a sweet kid and works hard.” He shook his head. “I don’t see the issue.”
“Blind and dumb.”
“The point?”
“Never mind.
You’ll sort it out eventually. So you like the tattoo?”
“Almost as much as I like seeing you in this dress.” He placed the beer down on the kitchen counter and pulled me toward him. Against my neck he said, “Very naughty to wear a thong under it.” He cupped my ass in his hands, gathering the material up in his palms, until I felt the heat from his fingers.
I groaned from his touch and the warmth of his breath against my neck.
Bond kissed his way up to my mouth, swallowing the sound. His hands and his lips worked to make my panties damp. “How’s your shoulder feeling?”
“My shoulder?” I said, leaning flush against him.
“The tattoo?”
I laughed. “Tight and itchy.”
“No bondage tonight then,” he decided as he pulled down my thong. “But I do owe you a spanking for teasing me so mercilessly. My cock has been rock hard since you walked into the club.”
I reached between us and rubbed over his zipper. The head of his cock poked out the top of his jeans. “He’s very hard,” I concurred. “Shall we free him?”
“Soon.” He spun me around and pushed my upper body over the kitchen counter, my ass exposed to the cool, air-conditioned room, the skirt of the dress draped at my waist. His warm palm caressed over my ample bottom, starting at my hips, and kneading his way to the crevice between my globes. His fingers spread my buttocks wide and then massaged them back together. “You’ve been a very bad girl,” he grunted as his hand spanked my ass for the first time that night.
The heat from his strike spread out from my ass, migrating to my nipples and pussy. He didn’t allow me to wallow in the sensation too long before the next spank landed on the other side. Bond didn’t dick around with a light punishment. No, he used plenty of force, allowing me to get lost in the pain and titillation. After thoroughly reddening my ass, at the edge of my tolerance, he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter and spread my thighs wide.
“Sopping wet and sticking out,” he said as he rolled my bulbous clit between his fingers. “Pull down the top of your dress and take off your bra. I’ll be right back.”
I did as directed, wondering what he went off to get. When he returned, he held a chain with loops on either end. He twisted and pulled on my right nipple and then lassoed it, pulling the loop very tight. My left nipple received the same treatment. The chain hung between my breasts. “My alligator clips are too small for your big nipples, but this works great. You would look so good in my album.”
Blue Persuasion Page 5