I continued, relating the rest of the story as Jack listened but gave me no hint of what he was thinking. The change in my attitude, my decision to live to please myself and forget about what others might think. I explained how Sarah and I seemed to be developing a friendship after going shopping earlier that day and how I really liked her, not despite the fact she was really a guy but in part because of it. That’s where he came in.
“So that’s it. I was just kind of afraid what people might think if they knew I liked you. I guess I thought they might judge me. Talking about it with Trudy helped but meeting Sarah and seeing how she lived her life really hit home,” I said. Jack nodded again and puffed on his cigar as he turned to look at me. I wasn’t sure what to expect.
“I don’t know. That’s quite a tale. You’re kind of scaring me and I’m just not sure you’re my type,” he said with a perfectly straight face. He was in range, however, so I reached over and punched him.
“Ha ha ha. Very funny!” I said and Jack laughed at his little joke. I couldn’t help but join him though. I took another sip of beer and found it was my last. I shook the bottle, Jack took it from me and got up to go fetch two more. He was gone a moment and I knew when he came back I had to ask about Sarah. I needed to know how he felt for some reason. I don’t know why but I felt like if he couldn’t accept her, then we weren’t meant to be.
It shouldn’t have mattered. It wasn’t as if dating Jack and being friends with Sarah had anything meaningful in common. I could have relationships with both no matter how each felt about the other but I didn’t want that. I needed Jack to accept her. I needed to know he was what I hoped. His lifestyle and his home made me think that he was but I needed to know for sure. Jack sat back down and handed me one of the beers but before I could ask Jack, he answered without me having to.
“Your friends sound cool. I’d like to meet them,” he said.
“Really?” I asked a bit surprised and Jack picked up on that.
“Yeah, why?” he wondered.
“I thought...well, I...,” I began to say but without much success before Jack smiled and jumped in.
“Look, I can’t live the way I do and not accept others for who they are. I’m used to being judged, even by you,” he said and I nodded accepting the truth. “I’m a scruffy, outlaw, dumpster-diving biker. Who am I to judge? I live the way that makes me happy. Sounds like your friend Sarah’s found what makes her happy. Good for her,” Jack said and I suddenly had a big smile I couldn’t shake.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No need. So, I have a question. Did I pass the test?” he asked. I was surprised at that.
“What test?” I asked innocently. I guess I was testing him but I was testing myself too.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter,” Jack replied. I laughed at that.
“Yeah, you passed. I passed the test too,” I said and then Jack really surprised me.
“I like you a lot, Brandy. You’re...fearless,” he said. Oh my Lord. That’s what Sarah told me too. Be fearless. What the hell was with everyone quoting each other?
“Do you know Sarah or something, she used that word too. Fearless,” I asked rhetorically but Jack answered anyway.
“Yeah, she’s my brother,” Jack said straight as can be leaving no doubt he was serious. I choked on the beer I was trying to swallow but as soon as I saw the grin on Jack’s face, I knew he was screwing with me.
“You’re an idiot. She’d be your sister anyway...I think,” I said and we both laughed at my confusion.
“So, I assume your cool being my old lady?” he asked but it was a statement of sorts. Old lady? I knew that meant I’d be his girlfriend. Yeah, I was more than cool with that.
“If you don’t mind being my old man, I could be your old lady,” I replied. Jack put his hand out, palm up and held it there. I looked at it, then at him and took his hand in mine.
“Good! I need a decent lawyer,” he said and squeezed my hand. I smiled and took a sip of beer as Jack puffed on his cigar. I guess we were dating and I couldn’t have been happier. No reservations and no worries. If people didn’t like it, fuck ‘em. I was Jack’s old lady and I was proud that he was my old man.
>>O<<
Jack took us to get some burgers and fries after a bit. We took his truck so I didn’t have to get dressed for real. After we ate them back at his trailer sitting at the bar on those old stools, we cuddled up on his big leather sofa daybed thing and watched a movie. I slept over and we made love again that morning. OK, we fucked like bikers. Making love is for normal people. In any case, when I finally made it home the next afternoon, I was on cloud nine. I had to tell someone and there was really only one someone I wanted to tell.
“I’m so happy for you, Brandy,” Sarah exclaimed when I told her all about my night with Jack.
“Thanks. It’s partially you’re doing,” I told her.
“Meh, you would have figured it out on your own,” she replied.
“Um... can I ask you something, Sarah?” I replied.
“Yeah, sure,” she replied. I know what I wanted to ask but I wasn’t sure how to ask it. I wasn’t sure it wouldn’t sound stupid. But I had to be fearless.
“I like you a lot, Sarah. I know you’re a crossdresser and all but we can be like girlfriends, right?” I asked and it did sound kind of stupid. Sarah didn’t say a word for a moment and I wondered if I might have said something wrong.
“Really? You mean that?” she asked and her voice was a bit shaky.
“Yeah, I do,” I told her.
“I’d love to be your BFF, Brandy,” she replied. Now I was getting emotional too.
“Cool!” I replied but I had another question. “What’s your name? You know your dude name?” I asked. Again Sarah hesitated.
“Why?” she asked in return and I could hear that she was hesitant.
“If we’re going to be friends I just thought...,” I began to say but she interrupted.
You’d better just call me Sarah,” she said and I thought I’d offended her or something for a moment until she added, “It’s Jack. I mean it’s really John after my dad but everyone calls me Jack so there’s less confusion.”
“No shit?” I asked her.
“No shit. Besides, I want to be Sarah with you, you know. I don’t mind you meeting the male me but I don’t want to be him with you. I want to be your girlfriend, OK,” she explained.
“OK, but if I want to hang out on a Wednesday night, you might have to get all made up and put on something pretty,” I teased.
“Promise?” she replied and we both laughed. We talked for a while about Jack and stuff and agreed to get together soon and go shopping or something. I felt like everything was clear suddenly. I had Jack and now I had a best friend. This was so cool. Better yet, I didn’t feel like I was struggling to fit in or make everyone else happy. I was just being me, doing what felt good and right, what I wanted and I loved it.
The next morning, I went into work and Vic was already in his office back from his vacation. I’d had quite a week while he was gone and I looked it. The pink streak was still in my hair and instead of my usual skirt suit, white blouse and conservative heels, I wore something that I liked instead of what I thought I should wear. I wore a short leather skirt, a red blouse and matching heels. Underneath, it was all black lace including the garter belt that held my sheer black stockings with the seam up the back tight against my shapely legs.
“Morning, Vic,” I said as I stood in his door.
“Place looks nice. Thanks for cleaning...,” he began to say until he looked up and saw me. “You look...different, Brandy,” he told me as he looked me up and down with obviously inappropriate thoughts running through his head.
“Do I?” I replied being coy appreciating his wandering eyes.
“Yeah. So how’d everything go with Jack Anker?” he asked after shaking his head and forcing himself to look me in the eye.
“I got him off. I got him off good,” I rep
lied and giggled to myself. Vic couldn’t figure out what that was all about but I enjoyed my little turn of phrase immensely.
“Uh...good. Anything else happen?” he wondered.
“Nope. Pretty uneventful week,” I told him but it was anything but. I was Jack’s old lady and my new best friend was a crossdresser. I’d danced on the bar half-naked at Hogs and Heifers, won a wet t-shirt contest and smoked pot. I’d found my inner bad girl and let a dumpster-diving biker have his way with her. Best of all, that fearless, curvy vixen was here to stay.
“Right,” was all Vic said. He knew something was up but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what.
“How was Hawaii? You and Lacey have a good time?” I asked changing the subject. Vic’s expression changed.
“Yeah, it was a good vacation,” he replied.
“Well, how about I make us some coffee and you can tell me all about all the juicy details before we get to work,” I offered.
“Yeah, OK. You know, whatever happened to you, Brandy, I like it,” Vic told me. I smiled as he handed me his empty coffee cup.
“So do I,” I replied and went to go get us some coffee.
>>O<<
Thank you for reading Fearless Curves. Don’t forget to visit me at: cameronromance.com
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If you enjoy more traditional or historical romances, my novel Havana Curves is a satisfying and exciting story set in 1950s Cuba during the revolution. It features heart-warming romance and exciting action set against one of the most significant events of the late 20th century. Please enjoy this excerpt:
We had just enough time to maybe share an intimate moment, get our belongings and drive to meet the charter boat to America. However, we never made it to Marco’s home. As we approached the row houses in Marco’s Cadillac, we saw men waiting outside. There was no doubt why they were there. Marco took a side street before they could identify us and we drove away towards the docks. “We will buy clothes in Florida,” he said and squeezed my knee to reassure me.
“What if we’d been home?” I asked but Marco only looked at me. His eyes told me what I suspected already. We’d have been arrested. Marco took us out of Havana, choosing side streets instead of the wide boulevards to avoid being seen. We drove in silence. Every car we passed I was sure would turn and chase us down. I had never wanted to be somewhere else as much as I did right then. When Tony threatened me, it was only I that would suffer. Now Marco would suffer too if we were caught. I couldn’t bear the thought.
Finally, we arrived at the docks after what seemed like hours. The docks served fishermen mostly and the boat Marco had charted seemed far too big next to the small dock. It wasn’t a large boat but it dwarfed the fishing skiffs that would normally use the wooden docks. Many of the other refugees were already there and waiting including Enrico.
“Ah, Marco. I was worried,” Enrico greeted us.
“With good reason, my friend. Castro’s thugs were waiting for us at my home. If we wouldn’t have left to get dinner, we wouldn’t have been able to join you,” Marco explained. Enrico didn’t look surprised.
“I have heard rumors. I am sure I am on their lists too,” Enrico told us.
“We must leave right away,” Marco said.
“Some of the others haven’t arrived,” Enrico told us. Marco looked at his watch. It was nearing midnight.
“We will wait for a little longer. Take Nancy to the boat and I will wait for the stragglers and keep watch,” Marco told Enrico. I looked at Marco, taking his hand and squeezing. “We will leave as soon as they arrive,” he assured me. Enrico led me to the boat and I took a seat near the stern. It was a charter fishing boat and lacked any real comforts but it was only ninety miles or so to Florida.
“I will go to wait with Marco,” Enrico told me. I was nervous but not for myself. I was worried about Marco and until he was on the boat and we had departed I couldn’t relax. Only a little while more.
“Thank you,” I said but as soon as I had, Marco began shouting.
“Salir, salir!” he yelled. Enrico went to the side and then turned to the passengers and told them to get down in Spanish. I rose and pushed my way to the rail on the opposite side from the dock. Two cars skid to a stop as Marco ran towards the boat but before he could get to the dock, men emerged from the cars and shouted for him to stop. Marco didn’t halt immediately but when the men fired their guns into the air, Marco stopped just short of the dock.
“Marco!” I yelled as the boat’s engines roared to life. Enrico hesitated to order the boat to leave but Marco told him to go.
“Tell Nancy that I love her,” Marco shouted. I tried to climb from the boat as it drifted away from the dock but Enrico grabbed me and held me.
“No! Marco! Marco!” I shouted as the boat turned. The men seized Marco and more pointed rifles at the boat and yelled for the captain to stop. The captain shook his head and once he had the room, he turned the boat and threw the throttle all the way forward. The boat lurched forward and began to gain speed. The men fired on us and Enrico shouted for the passengers to get down once again as he pulled me to the deck. I struggled but he was too strong. “Marco!” I yelled.
Soon the boat was out of range of the gunfire but when Enrico let me go I forgot about Marco for a moment. The woman I’d been siting next too was dead from bullet to the chest and lay lifeless next to me. I looked at her in horror and then back at the shore as I got to my feet. Marco was gone, only his Cadillac remained behind. I fell to my knees and began to sob. Enrico consoled me as he lifted me to my feet again.
“We will get him back,” he assured me.
“They will kill him. We need to go back,” I wailed.
“We cannot,” Enrico told me. I knew he was right but right then I didn’t care. He took me into the cabin where I collapsed crying. Enrico sat next to me and held me as I sobbed. Marco was gone and there was nothing I could do to get him back. I was sure he would be tried and executed like so many others and I was helpless to save him. My world was as dark as the night that swallowed the fishing charter as it sailed for Florida. The engines droned on as I wept.
>>O<<
About the Author
D. H. Cameron enjoys writing stories with a heart and a little, or a lot, of erotic sizzle. Ms. Cameron also writes fantasy under another pen name. Besides writing, Ms. Cameron enjoys music, specifically hard rock and heavy metal, cooking, clothes and photography. Ms. Cameron is happily married with two wonderful children. Home, where Ms. Cameron writes full time, is in Nevada.
Copyright © 2014 D. H. Cameron. All rights reserved worldwide.
This is a work of fiction intended for mature adults. Names, characters, places and events are purely the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to actual places, events and/or persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental.
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