by D N Simmons
“I noticed earlier that you and my son got reacquainted, rather...personally. I take it you'll be staying the night...no, no I insist that you stay the night. Go back to work in the morning, but spend the night with us, your family, for a change,” Xander said. Warren had blushed when he realized what the other man meant when he said 'reacquainted'. He had forgotten about the wet spot on his jeans, thanks to Adrian's spent passions. He frowned when he thought about it.
“I'll stay tonight, but not for Adrian,” Warren said. They discussed other topics as they drove on.
CHAPTER 7
Natasha woke up, her eyelids heavy as sleep slipped away from her body. She sat up in bed, holding the sheets close to her chest. She wiped her eyes and looked at the little digital clock on the nightstand beside the bed. The little red numbers were glowing 11:35 P.M.
“Shit!” she exclaimed. As she climbed out of the bed, her foot caught in the sheets, causing her to fall, banging her knee on the floor. All the air left her body and her knee ached. She sat up on the floor to inspect the damage. A small red mark was already appearing on her knee.
“Shit! Great! Just great! This will not interrupt my dancing. Our celebration is on tonight!” she said, pumping herself up for the celebration she wanted to share with her friend. She had to get ready right away or she'd be late. She hated being late. Especially since she loathed waiting on anyone else. She took a quick shower, using her favorite body products from Anisi Bath and Beauty. Her body felt soft and smooth as she ran her hands over the finished product of her grooming. She smiled, getting more excited about the night's future events as the minutes passed.
She went to her closet to retrieve the outfit she'd bought earlier. She removed the tags, slipped on the white denim halter top and tied the bow behind her neck. She slipped on the matching denim mini that had the audacity to have two splits up the sides. The halter top had been the most daring article of clothing she had worn since her weight loss. She felt a little more confident in wearing the top with the peek-a-boo belly cut. She went to her shoe rack and found her knee length white go-go boots with the three inch heels.
Normally two inches was more than enough height for her taste, but tonight, she was pulling out all the stops.
She removed the rollers from her hair and pinned her hair up leaving some spiral curls flowing down over her smooth shoulders. She took the little hand-held razor and trimmed her eyebrows slightly. Her eyebrows were naturally thick, arched and beautiful, just needing a little more definition to them. Applying her make-up, she enjoyed the smoky-eyed look. Since she was going to a dance club, she thought it was appropriate. Natasha gave herself one last inspection, smiled and headed to the kitchen to grab something to eat before walking out of the door to catch a cab.
“Taxi!!!” she yelled and a yellow and black cab screeched to a stop. She carefully walked to the cab and climbed inside. She took one glance at the driver then looked for his license. Once satisfied he was legitimate, she told him the name of the club she was seeking.
“The Slayer's Lair, please.” Giving him the address, she settled back against the leather seat of the cab. She loved the smell of the cab's interior. She knew this cab was kept clean. She had smelled some unsavory cabs in the past. She was happy she didn't have to spend the long ride in the back of a smelly cab. She watched the city's scenery from the window as the cab sped through the nighttime streets. If she wasn't so worried about his meter, she would have asked him to slow down. She watched the nighttime crowds doing their weekly or nightly rituals, seeking a place to party. She looked at the skyscrapers that Chicago is famous for. The architectural paradise that land-marked the city was sprinkled in golden lights from thousands of windows throughout each building.
She looked at her watch, the time was 1:13 A.M.. “Shit, I'm already late. There! There it is, right there!” she pointed excitedly at a large building pulsating with techno beats. The strobe lights attached to the outside walls flashed their bright lights on the dozens of patrons who were waiting to get inside. “You can let me out right here,” Natasha said as she fished through her little white denim purse for the twenty-five dollars to pay and tip the cabby.
“Here you go and thank you.” She handed him the bills and climbed out of the cab. Looking for her friend, she expected her to be waiting outside the club. She stared into the crowd for five minutes before spotting Annette. The building had polished metal walls that reflected objects like a mirror. Natasha wondered if the inside was similar. The main entrance was protected by an ultraviolet door frame, beaming light on all patrons who entered, to keep out vampires. The bouncers stamped the hands of everyone who entered with a sterling silver stamp to ward off shape-shifters. If vampires were to attempt to enter the building, the ultraviolet lighting system would burn them, possibly killing very young vampires. In the instance of a shape-shifter having their hand stamped, their flesh would burn in reaction to the silver.
“Annette!” she called as she made her way over to her. Annette turned around and waved frantically for her friend to join her. The two woman faced each other and hugged. Natasha stepped back and opened her coat to show off her ensemble.
“Oh my god girl, you look great! I told you, you would look good with some meat on your bones. Ooh, look at you, with your little belly hanging out and shit!” Annette said as she poked Natasha's belly under the peek-a-boo shirt.
“Oh stop. If any more of my belly had been showing, I wouldn't be wearing this outfit. And let's get inside so that I can sit down. I've been standing in these damn boots for fifteen minutes and already I want to take them off. I hope I can survive the night,” Natasha said, dancing from one foot to the other, trying to relieve the pain that threatened to settle into her feet.
“Okay, we're lucky my friend is working the door tonight. He'll let us in. We don't have to wait out here with the unfortunates,” Annette said, grabbing Natasha's hand and leading her past the line to her bouncer friend.
“Hey, Randy, this is my girl, Natasha. Be nice to her if she comes here without me, I'd hate to have to kick your six-foot-four ass, got that!” Annette joked. The tall white bouncer just chuckled. He uncrossed his massive muscular arms to unhook the velvet rope. His hand rested on the hook as he looked at them.
“Whatcha wearing?” he asked. Annette smiled and opened her trench coat. Natasha reopened her coat. He glanced at Natasha and nodded. Then he focused on Annette, really enjoying her silver rhinestone piece of cloth which resembled a handkerchief tied around her waist and neck with the matching mini skirt that barely covered anything.
“Okay, ya passed the dress code...especially you,” he pointed at Annette. She flashed him a smile as wicked as it was lustful. Natasha shook her head. She didn't want to stand out there in the cold with her coat opened, freezing her ass off, while her harlot of a girlfriend and the mountain of a bouncer made goo goo eyes at each other.
“Thanks, um...Randy,” Natasha said as she slid past the huge man, making her way into the warmth of the club. She felt the soft heat from the protective door frame as she walked into the main area of the club. The interior matched the exterior, metal beams, steel columns and mirrored glass walls. Natasha thought it was kind of dark and sexy for a club.
“Natasha, wait for me! Damn girl. Just forget about me!” Annette said breathlessly as she caught up with Natasha at the coat checker's counter.
“Well, I thought you were busy and I was starting to get cold and what is that you're wearing?” Natasha asked as she took the ticket for her coat.
Annette looked down at her attire. She didn't see anything wrong with it.
“What? Girl, shit, I look good. Besides, it's more than I've worn all night. Oooohhh, oh my god, guess what?!” she asked excitedly, remembering her good fortune earlier that night.
“What?” Natasha asked, excited because her friend was excited.
“Oh my god, girl, I got promoted!!! As soon as I got to work tonight, I get called into the big boss' office, right.
And I'm nervous as hell because I heard that if you get called into the boss' office, more than likely, your ass is getting fired. So I'm just on ten right, and I go inside and mind you, I've never seen the boss, so I'm really nervous. But I go inside his office and girl, let me tell you! This man is GORGEOUS! Oh my god! You would not believe how gorgeous he is. I swear my mouth almost dropped open when I saw him.” Annette placed her hand over her heart. Closing her eyes, she thought about the moment when her eyes first met Darian's, of his voice as he spoke to her, the silky feeling of his hands on her skin.
“What happened next? What does he look like?!” Natasha asked, plainly interested in a good looking man.
“Well, he has long black hair, it's really wavy, shiny and smooth. And it flows past his shoulders, almost to his ass. He has the most beautiful green eyes I've ever seen. They're like dark green or something, like emeralds or something like that. And his voice! His voice is so deep and smooth, like butter, baby! It felt like his voice was caressing me as he spoke. Oh! And his body. Girl, this man has a body out of this world!!” Annette was getting excited again just thinking about her boss and the last thing he said to her.
“I had no idea that butter was deep!” Natasha joked.
“Shut up, you've got jokes, I see. Whatever, the man is H.O.T.,” Annette retorted playfully. At her last job, she would have gladly kicked her boss' ass for propositioning her and for all the trouble he gave her and the other employees. But she loved working at this club and she welcomed Darian's advances even more. Tomorrow night was looking better and better. She could hardly wait.
“So, besides how fine he is, anything else happen tonight that's got you all excited?” Natasha asked, ready to stop beating around the bush.
Annette thought about telling Natasha that she had almost had sex with her boss then decided against it.
“Well like I said, I was promoted to daytime assistant manager! I'll be making double what I get paid now and it's salary. I might still be able to strip on some days, making all that extra money, I'll be able to get a new car,” Annette said as she just pondered the situation.
“Well, it looks like we both have something to celebrate. I'm so happy for you-for us!”
“You're damn right, I'm going to get scummy tonight and so are you. I demand it, then you can go back to being pretty and pristine all over again after tonight,” Annette said as she ushered her friend toward the bar.
“I'll have a drink or two, but I have no intentions of getting 'scummy'. You got that, heathen!” Natasha joked.
“Yeah, yeah. We'll see when that music starts hitting you and that drink starts working. I want to see the wild woman unleashed.” The two women sat at the bar and ordered Long Island Iced Teas. They began to sip the drinks as they looked around for potential dancing partners.
The club was packed. It was Friday night and it seemed like the whole world was unwinding at the Slayer's Lair nightclub. The multicolored neon lights blinked on and off throughout the club, adding excitement to the already charged atmosphere. The marble floor ended just where the huge dance area began. There were all sorts of vampire slayer memorabilia hanging from the walls, such as whips, crossbows, crosses and fake wooden stakes hung from the ceiling. Framed photographs of world famous hunters, real and fake, hung on the walls. Hunters such as Ivy Hawthorne, the famed female vampire slayer who killed thirty-two vampires before she met her death eight months ago shortly after arriving in Chicago.
There were a lot of men dressed in brightly colored clothes standing against the walls or leaning on the marble columns throughout the club. As always, or so it seems to be this way at most dance clubs, the dance floor was mostly populated by seductively dressed women out to have a good time. A lot of them danced with each other. Natasha wasn't sure if the majority of the men standing by the walls simply liked to watch women dance with each other or did they just not want to dance. If that's the case, then why come to a dance club to look like security?
The two women scoped out the club, sipping their drinks and chatting. Annette was working on her second Long Island Iced Tea while Natasha was still nursing the first one. She was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol relatively fast, since the beverage she was drinking was a mixture of several different liquors. She thought it might have been wiser to have selected a more tame drink, maybe a Cooler or something. She didn't drink and she didn't want to feel drunk either. However, Natasha was starting to feel relaxed, almost floating. Annette jumped up from her chair, grabbing the first guy that walked by. She pressed her body against his, grinding against him.
He led her to the dance floor where he and his buddy sandwiched her between them as their hands groped her hips and back. They tried very carefully not to caress her butt and breasts, which is where their eyes were focusing as they danced with the spirited woman. Natasha wished she had Annette's confidence. She always thought that Annette could be the perfect poster girl for that company whose motto was: “Just Do It” for that is just what Annette did, if she wanted to. Natasha set her drink down on the bar top. She settled against the bar seat feeling bubbly. Annette would make fun of her if she knew that half a glass of alcohol had gotten her intoxicated or at the least, a bit tipsy. She didn't care. Like she'd said, she had no intentions of getting “scummy” and she was keeping that in mind. She didn't want to find out what a hangover would feel like. Getting drunk was never that important, nor alluring.
“Do you want to dance?” a tall gentleman asked Natasha. He was handsome, about six-feet, two-inches, coffee colored complexion, dark brown eyes, strong bone structure. She wouldn't mind dancing at this moment, especially with a handsome man like this.
“Sure, let's dance.” She rose from her chair a little too quickly and had to catch herself by clinging to him.
“Whoa, are you okay? Can you handle yourself or do I have to carry you?” he joked, but behind the joke, he was serious.
“No, I just stood up too fast, I think. I'll be okay.” She smiled gaily. She was definitely drunk. There was no doubt about it now. She let him lead her to the dance floor. He wrapped his arms around her waist and they began to grind their bodies together to the beat of the music. The DJ had switched from disco beats to reggae. Natasha began to loosen up even more, letting the beat of the music guide her hips as she danced with the man. He smiled at her as she danced erotically to the island music, her hands coming up to caress her hair and trail down her waist. Her eyes closed as she turned around.
She looked over her shoulder as she felt his chest against her back. She had thoughts about going home with this man and having a one night's stand with him. It had been a long time since she'd had sex. Annette told her and even urged her to “get laid”. She had said if she “got some, it might help get her out of her depression”. Some people think sex is the answer to everything Natasha thought. 'Oh you got cancer, better get some sex, that'll knock that shit clean out your system.' yeah right!
She looked over to see Annette dancing with three men at one time. She knew Annette was the kind of girl some people used to hate in high-school, but wanted to be like. Natasha was never one of those girls. She was always the one that people liked as a friend and was well known enough not to be a victim of bullies, but never to be selected by the “in” crowd. Annette, on the other hand, was the leader of the “in” crowd. She played the pipe and others followed. She wondered if she had ever followed. Maybe she was following now, that would explain why she was drunk. The man she was dancing with looked toward Annette's group. He wanted to see the hot commodity and slowly started dancing over in that direction. Natasha became sober enough to become angry. He asked her to dance! The night had just taken a turn for the worse.
Natasha went back to her seat and ordered another drink. She wanted to brood over all the men fawning over her friend. For some reason, when she received her drink, a little voice in her mind told her to chug it down. She did, immediately regretting it because the room tilted then straightened itself. Plac
ing the glass gingerly on the bar top, she sat very still. She ordered a glass of water, deciding her night of drinking should end. She saw Annette walking toward her, sweaty and a trail of men behind her. All trying to buy her a drink, each hoping that she'd pick him for a rendezvous later that night or in the week.
“Bartender, I'll take another Long Island,” Annette said as she looked to one guy to pay for her drink. He gladly reached in his pocket, pulled out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the bartender, who gave him two dollars and fifty cents change. Annette smiled at the man as he drew closer, plainly claiming his spot as the dominant male who won the young lady's heart or at the very least, her full attention. Natasha thought it was like watching some strange mating ritual on National Geographic. She watched Annette seduce the man by running her fingertips down the front of his shirt, then circling one of his buttons. He smiled and sat down in the chair next to hers, chatting in her ear. Annette turned from him to look at Natasha.
“So Natasha, I saw you dancing with that cute guy. Are you having fun?” Annette asked, her southern accent slightly slurring due to the alcohol.
“No, I'm not. I think I had too much to drink, I don't feel so good right now, the room's spinning. I want to go home, Annette,” Natasha said as she laid her head on the bar top. Annette leaned over her friend and brushed some of her curls out of her face.
“Yeah, you do look a little green. Please tell me you didn't take your medicine. Do you feel like you're going to puke?” she asked, concerned.
Natasha nodded her head slowly. “The room won't stop spinning and this damn music keeps pounding in my ears. But I didn't take my medicine tonight.”
“Damn girl, you are a lightweight. I'm sorry I asked your ass to drink with me tonight. I didn't think you'd get fucked up like this,” she said as she noted her friend's damp, pale skin. She turned to the man next to her to tell him they needed to leave, that her friend wasn't feeling well right now. She finished her drink and rose from the bar stool. The man offered to take them home.