Going the Distance

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Going the Distance Page 3

by Christa Cervone


  “Okay Frankie, drive careful,” I wave to him as I make my way to the locker room.

  “Hey, do you mind locking up tonight?” Blaine asks. “I have an early meeting tomorrow.”

  Blaine gave me a set of keys to the gym about a month and a half ago. I’d been doing some early morning training sessions and no one wanted to get up that early to unlock the doors for me.

  “Sure, if you want me to. Do you mind if I go sit in the sauna for about twenty minutes before I close up?”

  “No, by all means.”

  “Sounds good, bro.” I’ve once again learned to tolerate Blaine. The first few weeks after Salem and I slept together, I couldn’t be in the same room as him. I made up every excuse to leave the room as soon as he entered, and relayed any messages through text message rather than actually talking to him. The mere sight of him made me wanna kick the living shit out of him. Frankie knew something was up between us, but he never made mention of it; he just let me be.

  After taking a quick shower, I head over to the sauna with a towel wrapped around my waist. I check the temperature on the outside and see that it reads 185 degrees, then open the door. A blast of hot air hits my face, and my eyes instantly begin to burn and tear from the heat. Shutting the door quickly, I hiss, “Shit,” then I take the towel from my waist and dab the tears away.

  “Blaine, are you in here?” I hear a female voice call out as the door to the locker room swings open.

  I’m now standing face to face with Salem. Her eyes drop down and she notices I’m naked. As surprise registers, her face turns beet red and she stammers, “Oh, I… I’m so sorry!” then she spins around and rushes toward the door.

  I just stand there frozen. I’m completely naked, with my mouth hanging open, as I watch her run away. I can feel the color rush from my face like I’ve seen a ghost. Go after her, you asshole. What the fuck are you waiting for? When I come back to my senses, I realize she’s gone. I wrap the towel back around my waist and run after her yelling, “Salem, wait!”

  I chase after her into the main gym, and looking toward the front door, I see it shutting slowly. Darting for the door, I rush out to the parking lot. It’s pitch black outside and I can’t see a damn thing. To the left of me, I hear a car start, and then see headlights light up the parking lot. Holding my towel at my waist, I run and stand in front of her car. With one of my hands planted firmly on the hood and the other holding my towel, I shout, “Why are you running?!”

  “Get out of my way, Gabriel!” she yells back at me through her windshield.

  “No! I just wanna talk to you.” I try to shield my eyes from the headlights that are blinding me.

  “There’s nothing to talk about!” She revs her engine loudly, trying to intimidate me.

  “Go ahead, run me over!” I challenge her.

  “Move!”

  “No!”

  “Fine!” She throws her car into reverse, backs out of her parking spot, and speeds off.

  I’m left standing alone, in the dark parking lot, with just a towel. “Fuck!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I jog back toward the gym; my chest is heaving in anger, my fists are clenched, and punching the side of the building sounds like a great idea right now.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit! I should’ve known when I didn’t see Blaine’s car parked out front that he wasn’t there. Out of all the people to still be there, it had to be him, and naked for God’s sake!” Salem feels her heart pounding against her chest and her mind drifts back to the last time they were together, the way he kissed her, and how he looked at her. The butterflies instantly begin to flutter in her stomach. She pulls over and leans her head down onto the steering wheel, trying to regain her composure.

  She’s done her best to keep her distance from the gym. Knowing Gabriel is there almost on a daily basis now, she’s had to get creative with her excuses on why she can’t go there. Homework has been her main excuse, which isn’t far from the truth. The two summer classes she’s enrolled in have been very demanding and have served as a great distraction.

  Things between her and Blaine haven’t improved. Though she did try to make a futile attempt to rekindle what they once had, she quickly realized it was gone. Nothing compares to Gabriel. Even though they only spent a short amount of time together, she caught a glimpse of what happiness could be. She didn’t have to pretend to be perfect with him, like she does with Blaine. Gabriel wanted her for her; he saw the beauty within, and not just what was on the outside. He accepted her one hundred percent and that meant the world to her.

  She’s finally learned the truth about Blaine. Even though he’s apologized to her several dozen times, the damage is done and she can never trust him again. Through all of this, the one thing Salem has come to realize, is that she’s no longer in love with Blaine; to be quite honest, she’s not sure she ever was.

  As always, Jocelyn had been right, but she’d never let her friend know that. Salem understands now that she just stuck around for the convenience and security of having him there. She knows that eventually their relationship will end; her parents will be furious, and they’ll think she’s ruining her chances for a wonderful future, but she can’t go on living a lie. Over these past few months, she’s become more focused on graduating, passing the bar, and has been thinking about relocating. Something no one knows about, not even Jocelyn. She needs to make a change, do something for herself for once, and forget about pleasing her parents or Blaine. She needs to live her life for her.

  Salem had gone to several of her law professors, all of which had given her good leads for potential employment, and she’s been researching cities for apartment or condo rentals. This will be the first major step in claiming her freedom. She’s never been on her own. She’s always been sheltered by either her parents or Blaine.

  “Shit,” she whimpers, as realization sets in and she slowly raises her head from the steering wheel.

  In record time, I’m dressed and speeding through the streets on my bike. Why won’t she talk to me? What the fuck did I do to her? If anyone should be mad at anyone, it should be me mad at her. She made me believe there was somethin’ between us, that she had feelings for me. She made me feel things I never knew existed, yet she didn’t feel the same way. She used me. Fuck her!

  Stopping at a red light, I look up at the street sign to see where I am. I’ve been driving around aimlessly for God knows how long. I realize I’m only a few streets away from Shikago’s, so I navigate down a couple of side streets and park my bike. Just like the last time, the line is halfway down the block. Luckily, the same bouncer is standing at the door; I walk up to him smiling.

  “Hey! Long time, no see,” he says, smiling back. “You want in?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  “Absolutely! Come on in, man, you’re in for a wild night! One of our best dancers is performing and she gets the crowd good and rowdy,” he steps aside to let me through.

  “Thanks man, I truly appreciate this,” I extend my hand to shake his. “I never caught your name the last time I was here.”

  “Anything for my favorite fighter,” he laughs, “and my name is Clifton.”

  “I’ll tell you what… I’m fighting in a few months, so I’ll make sure you get a pair of tickets.”

  “Really?”

  “Hey man, you scratch my back, I scratch yours.”

  “Follow me,” he turns, leading me into the club. The music is blaring and the place is packed. My eyes are having trouble adjusting to the dark, smoky room. “You came at the perfect time,” Clifton says loudly, “Kitten is about to take the stage.”

  As I’m walking, the music suddenly shuts off and the room goes completely dark, causing me to bump into someone. “You’re not gonna want to miss this,” Clifton whispers.

  On stage, a single spotlight comes on revealing a black silhouette behind a white screen. A steady drum beat plays as the screen slowly rises, and the first things I see are thigh-high, black leather boots. As the screen disappears into the
ceiling, she drops down onto all fours and begins crawling on her hands and knees. As she prowls down the runway, her head remains down, and her hair is cascading over her face. She moves like a cat stalking its prey and she begins wiggling her ass in the air. A strobe light flashes down on the stage, making her actions appear much slower. I look around at the audience, noticing that they’ve all stopped dancing and are standing in place, watching her perform. Once she reaches the end of the runway, she stops and begins lapping up what appears to be milk out of a cat bowl.

  Rising to her knees, then to a stand, she finally reveals her face along with her stunning body. Her eyes are covered by a black sequined mask, and her full, pouty lips are colored in a deep shade of burgundy. She appears much taller tonight than the first time I saw her, and I’m not sure if it’s the boots that she’s wearing or if it’s just the confidence she’s exuding on stage.

  With all eyes on her, she brings up her hands. Starting at her voluptuous breasts, she slowly runs her hands down her body until she makes her way all the way down between her legs. With both hands, she grabs the bottom edges of her black leather corset and rips it off, exposing her full breasts. Her nipples are covered by black sequined tassels that match her mask, and she’s wearing black thong underwear that have a kitten face on the front.

  I’m captivated by her, just like everyone else in the room. Her movements are so erotic, and the way her lip curls up into a little smirk… Christ. I’ve gotten an instant hard-on just from watching her.

  “What did I tell you?” Clifton elbows me in the ribs.

  “She’s incredible,” I say in awe.

  “Let me get you a drink,” he laughs. “What do you want?”

  I turn my head slightly toward Clifton to answer, but my eyes don’t leave the stage. “Jack and Coke.”

  “Comin’ right up.”

  Kitten struts down the runway, shaking her hips like a model as she goes. The black thong is exposing her perfect ass, and her garter belts are sexy as hell as she approaches a black Bentwood chair in the middle of the stage. Lifting her left leg, she places her foot gingerly on the seat of the chair. Slowly she unzips the boot, then takes it off and drops it to the floor. She repeats the same motions for the right boot. Leaning over the chair, she picks up something, and with a rapid hand movement, she opens up a large, feathery black fan. Covering the front of her body with the fan, she dances around the stage, twirling and switching the fan from her right hand to her left and back. Teasing the audience, she extends her left arm above her head then slowly lowers it down, behind the fan. Within seconds, her hand is extended again, this time with her thong in her hand; the crowd cheers loudly.

  She picks up a second fan off the chair, now covering her back side as well. Again she dances around the stage, teasing the audience by raising and lowering the fans, giving us a little more skin each time. She reaches the end of the runway and she raises the front fan higher to each beat of the music. Just before the room goes dark she exposes herself completely, revealing her triangle, which is covered with rhinestones in the shape of a cat.

  The crowd roars; people are cat calling, whistling, clapping, and stomping their feet. I slowly begin clapping too, still in awe of what I just saw before me. “You wanna meet her?” someone says in my ear.

  I turn around swiftly to see Blaine’s mistress standing in front of me.

  “Oh,” she sounds surprised when she realizes who I am, “you’ve already met Kitten, haven’t you?”

  I nod my head.

  “Well, let’s get you reacquainted,” her arm wraps around mine and we walk to the VIP section. She snaps her fingers and someone comes running to undo the velvet rope divider. “Please, have a seat. I’ll make sure Kitten is here momentarily to keep you entertained.”

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to get her,” I object.

  “Nonsense. Any friend of Blaine’s, is a friend of mine,” she winks at me. “Oh, and what are you drinking?”

  I look down at my empty hand. “Clifton’s getting me a Jack and Coke.”

  Snapping her fingers again, she barks out, “Get him a Jack and Coke!”

  A guy in his early twenties, standing in the corner with his head bowed, quickly responds, “Yes, Madame,” then rushes to do her bidding.

  Well, I guess that answers my question about Blaine and her still seeing one another. I mean, if he dumped her, would she be pulling out all the stops to make sure I’m having a good time?

  “I see Sydney has you all set up.” Clifton’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat as he walks up the steps.

  “I guess she does,” I look around. “I’m not actually sure why…”

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure you know why,” he’s grinning.

  I nod my head in acknowledgement; there’s no need to expand any further. I got the answer I was looking for… that two-timing, cheating bastard is still at it. I shake my head, cursing under my breath; thoughts of Salem at the gym come to mind and how surprised she looked when she saw me. Why did she run? Why won’t she even talk to me?

  “Well, well, well… look what the cat dragged in,” a soft purr comes from behind me as she whispers in my ear. I feel the hair rise on the back of my neck and chills run through my body. “You’ve finally made it back to see me.” Her arms wrap around my chest, “Are you here for a private show?”

  We’re now cheek to cheek; I close my eyes and swallow hard. Christ. I’m still aroused from watching her on stage, and she smells like an enticing combination of vodka and mint. I try to come up with an excuse, “I’ve been kinda…”

  She snakes her body over mine in one quick movement and puts her index finger to my lips. “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

  I can’t help but look down at her; she’s wearing a black silk robe, her ample cleavage is hanging out, and I catch a glimpse of her garter belt as the robe rides up her thigh.

  “You like what you see?” her fingers widen the space on her robe, exposing one of her breasts to me. Her areola is a dark, tannish brown and her nipple is stiff from the cold air blowing down from the air conditioning vent above us.

  She pushes me backward until I drop down onto the couch. My mouth and lips have suddenly become very dry so I reach for my drink, but it’s just out of my grasp. Our eyes lock onto one another.

  “Are your lips dry? Do you need some ChapStick?” she coos. I hadn’t even realized I’d licked my lips. “Here, have some of mine,” she whispers as she presses her body against mine and kisses me. Once we part, her tongue runs over her bottom lip. “Mmmm… you taste yummy.”

  “Kitten,” I try to push her away.

  “What’s the matter, don’t you like me?” her bottom lip comes out and she pouts. As she leans over me, the other side of her robe opens up, revealing both her breasts.

  Staring down at her chest, I respond, “No, it’s not that. Believe me, it’s not that.”

  She arches her back, pushing her tits into my face. “I’m throwing myself at you. What more do you want from me?”

  I exhale heavily. “Fuck it,” I growl, as my hand reaches for her breast and I gently flick her nipple.

  A smile grows across her face and she gets up off my lap. “Come on, let’s go somewhere a little more private,” taking me by the hand, she leads me down a dark hallway. When we come to a stop, she pounds on the wall twice, waits a moment, and then does it again. A door opens and we enter a small room; it’s decorated very similar to the rest of the club. There’s a red, chaise lounge chair placed kitty-corner in the room. “Go have a seat,” she points to the chair. “I’m going to fix us some drinks.”

  I look around the room curiously; the walls are covered in lavish purple fabric. As my eyes scan the room further, I notice two sets of handcuffs hanging from the wall. “What is this place?”

  “This is where we entertain some of our guests.”

  I hear the ice clink into the glasses. “Are you a hooker?” I ask cautiously.

  “No,” she laughs softly,
“do I look like a hooker?”

  I laugh nervously. “I’ve never met a hooker, so how am I supposed to know?”

  “Well, maybe you have met a hooker and you didn’t know he or she was one.” She turns toward me with two drinks in her hands, “I hope you don’t mind Scotch on the Rocks.”

  “Anything sounds good right about now.” Taking the drink from her hand, I gulp it down.

  “You want this one, too?” she hands me her drink.

  “Yeah, sure, that was some performance,” I say between sips, taking this drink a little slower than the last one.

  “You liked it?”

  “I’d say I more than liked it.” I sit down on the chair.

  “What was your favorite part?”

  “All of it,” I look up at her, pulling the tie to her robe.

  “You didn’t have a favorite part?”

  I begin to smile as my eyes cast down below her waist.

  “Oh, you liked my pussy…” she pauses for a moment, smiling, “cat?”

  “I loved your pussy… cat.”

  “You want a closer look?”

  I nod my head.

  “Don’t be scared; she’s not gonna bite you,” she purrs.

  “I’ve just never seen anything like it.”

  “It’s called va-jazzled.”

  “Va-what?”

  She chuckles. “Va-jazzled. My va-jayjay is bedazzled.”

  “How long does it take you to do that?” My fingers run gently over the rhinestones.

  “Not very long, but I don’t do it myself. I have one of the girls help me.”

  “Now that’s my kind of job,” I laugh.

  “Well, that’s not her only job, but that’s enough talk about my pussy. I’m ready for you to make her purr.” I shift around on the chair, trying to get comfortable. “Do you have protection on you or do I need to call for some?”

  “No, I have it.” I’m a bit taken back; I’m not used to a woman being this forward. It’s kind of intimidating, yet refreshing at the same time. I don’t have to worry about being turned down or wonder if she’s going to change her mind. I think I may have met my match with Kitten.

 

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