“What’s with the drink?”
“We have a long night ahead of us.”
Ummmm, what now?
“Frank will bring something else over in a bit.”
“Long night? What do you have planned?” I sipped the drink and only when the fresh, cold sweetness washed my throat did I realize how dry it had been.
“I want to watch you dance,” he said with a dark, devious twinkle in his eye.
I loved dancing, had loved to go clubbing in Chicago. I loved the press of a roomful of bodies moving to the same loud beat. It could drown out thoughts of anything else and make it so easy to forget whatever was going on in your life, but it wasn’t the best first date—too loud to talk. I put on a smile, determined to be game for whatever he threw at me.
“So, thanks for looking after me last night. I just feel so stupid to have gotten lost in a new town.” My mood sagged a little thinking about the entire shitstorm that had led up to it. “I had a kind of frustrating day at school that ended on a sour note and I just wanted to forget about it, you know?”
He leaned in. “What happened that was sour? You can’t let Dr. Malcom get to you.”
He was referring to the histology professor who was notoriously hard to please. My Friday afternoon lab was his class. “No, not Malcom. It’s just really different here than it was in college or in Chicago. I’m still working on making friends.”
“We’re friends.” The innocence of the words was completely destroyed by the suggestive cock of his eyebrows, the wicked curve of his lips and the slightly sarcastic, slightly erotic tone of his voice.
I smiled at him, but was a little perplexed. “FYI—friends don’t tell each other they want to watch them dance.” I said it with a slightly dirty smile back at him.
“Maybe not your friends,” he answered, mirth and heat dancing in his eyes.
His foot nudged mine under the table. I had my ankles crossed and he pushed my feet apart and put his—huge—boot right between my strappy black heels. And with that small gesture, the slightest of contact, my whole body alerted to him. My breath came quicker, my skin was suddenly too tight, clammy, and I felt a flush creeping up my neck.
Frank came over then, a mountain of a man, lumbering into our little sexual innuendo, ending the moment. He set down a tray with two burgers and new drinks for us. I sucked down the rest of my lemonade, wanting to hang on to my wits as long as possible.
“New house specialty—mojitos,” Frank said with a smile.
Up close, he seemed even more massive, and I noticed that he had some random bruises on his neck and arms that almost looked like hickeys. “I’ve never had a mojito. What’s in it? I mean, besides the roofie he told you to put in there.”
Frank’s mouth worked a bit and he looked obviously uncomfortable. I immediately regretted it and stammered, “I’m kidding! Let me do this like a normal person. Hi, I’m Leda.” I put my hand out and Frank glanced at Xander, who wasn’t smiling, but wasn’t frowning either.
“Leda, this is my friend Frank,” Xander introduced him then put my mojito in my outstretched hand. “What do you think of the drink?” he asked, as I took a sip.
It was so refreshing, perfect, crisp and cold. I could easily get really drunk with these.
Frank stood up, glancing back at the bar. “The boss is here.”
I looked back, expecting someone much older than me, but the man I assumed was Jason probably wasn’t older than thirty, standing behind the bar, popping the tops off some beers for himself and his date. He was scruffy, shaggy hair, short beard. He was wearing jeans and a concert T-shirt that I couldn’t read from that distance. His date was stunning. She had big, blonde hair that hung almost to her waist in fat curls, plenty of make-up, with a trim body and great high, small breasts. She was wearing a silver mini-dress with a plunge in front that chesty girls like me look like strippers—at best—in. Even across the bar, she seemed full of life, laughing with a huge smile full of chicklet teeth.
Xander waved them over and they came to sit with us. Introductions revealed that her name was Christy. I kind of expected someone flighty or bitchy, but she was really pleasant.
“So, Leda. Xander tells us you just moved here from Yankee territory? What do you think so far?”
Pause…he was telling his friends about me?
She didn’t wait for my answer, continuing, “It’s so hard to move to a new place, where you don’t know anyone and try to start a new life, but I think you’ll love it here, especially this winter when everyone up north is freezing. I went to school in Boston and remember how ridiculous it was there—so cold compared to the south. But I grew up here and had never seen snow in person before I moved there.”
And she went on and on. She was one of those people that could carry an entire conversation by herself without making anyone feel weird. It made me smile, made me immediately comfortable because my mom was exactly the same. But after a few minutes, Jason clearly gave her a little look or signal, because, she stopped mid-sentence.
“Oh God! There I go. Clearly I talk for a living, right?”
It hit me. She was the weather girl, just way tramped up for a night out. I instantly liked her. Jason smiled at her indulgently and I was impressed that these were the people Xander could call his friends.
“Jason, this place is great—a very chill vibe. How long have you been in business here?”
“We’ve been open here for about a year and a half. I really like this space a lot, just very chill—that’s the exact right word for it, but it’s picking up on the weekends in the last few months. Later tonight the crowd will be different—younger.”
My hunger hit me with a vengeance as the initial nerves of the date wore off. So as Jason and Xander talked about the bar business, I finished my burger, which was great, and continued sipping my mojito.
In the course of the conversation, I learned that Christy and Jason had been together for five years, since she’d moved back to Texas to do the weekend, late night weather at one of the local television channels. Since then she had been promoted and now did weeknights and clearly loved her job. At one point, Jason leaned across the table and literally shushed her with his fingers over her lips. She sucked his fingers into her mouth with a twinkle in her bright blue eyes, and I got a flush all over. It was over really quickly, but I was kind of turned on by how into each other they were, even after five years.
Xander leaned across the table and grabbed my wrist to get my attention. “Ready to go?”
Christy dropped Jason’s fingers and looked over at us. “Where are you going tonight?”
Across the table Jason chuckled and wiped his fingers off on a napkin, but then had to adjust himself under the table.
“We’re going to The Nest,” Xander told her, his tone heavy with irony or mirth that I didn’t totally understand.
“Xander tells me I am going to dance for him,” I smirked, getting in on the fun.
He squeezed my wrist. “Not for me, little girl. I’m just going to watch.”
Christy grabbed Jason’s hands. “Let’s go too? I haven’t been dancing in forever!” I was actually kind of relieved at the possibility of a little buffer to make the whole first date awkwardness easier—and I really liked Christy.
Jason had a little bit of handshaking and owner-stuff to do at the bar, so he and Christy planned to meet us there. We headed to the back of the bar and Xander opened the door for me, grabbing my hand as I walked through and pulling me in close to him as we walked toward his car.
“I’m glad you like Jason and Christy. They’re my best friends. I’ve known Jason since high school. He’s a great guy, tough but not an asshat, you know? And Christy is perfect for him. Sometimes people miss it, but she is really smart, too. She doesn’t talk about it much, but she actually has her PhD in meteorology from MIT. They were one of the factors pulling me here when I was looking at schools. Jason had been down here, promoting clubs and just killing it. He opened his first cl
ub about the time he met Christy.” He got my door and held my hand as I got settled in my seat.
When he came around and got in, I continued our conversation, “They seem really great and it’s nice to meet a woman who is so pleasant. The girls at school can be such bitches.”
“Whoa—it’s only been a few weeks! Who has already made such a big impression on you?”
“Fuck them. I don’t want to talk about them.” I could feel my mood starting to deflate even thinking about Stacy and her crappy comments. We got in the car and drove across town. The conversation dropped off a bit until I said, “So wait, you said Jason opened his first club—how many does he own?”
“He’s kind of diversified—a club, the bar and a coffee shop. He’s looking into opening another club now, but it’s a huge investment of time and money. He was talking about not having a good concept yet either. This is where his genius is, you know. I would just convert a warehouse, put in speakers and call it something dumb. He’ll have the whole thing worked out, three hundred sixty degrees.”
“So are we going to his club tonight?”
“No.” He paused. “Nest is another club in town, good for dancing.”
“God, now that I know him, I feel like it’s kinda rude not to go to his place.”
“No, he gets it. It’s, well, like I was saying. It has a concept and it is for a specific group of people. He knows I’d never take a first date there. Hell, he doesn’t even go that often anymore.”
“Why? Is it, like, a total cowboy bar, real country or something else, like real gangster?”
“No it’s just…very…intense, like lots of sex in your face.”
“A strip club?”
“No.” He smiled. “No one is getting paid to get naked, but they might get naked anyway. The rules are very strict, but essentially come down to anything is okay as long as everyone involved is legal and is consenting.”
I wasn’t really sure what to make of that, but I needed to shift my ass against the seat. “Wait…you wouldn’t take a first date there? But maybe a second? Do you go there a lot?”
He laughed out loud at that as he pulled up to the valet at a huge club with a line outside. The valet opened the door for me and Xander was there handing off his keys as I stepped out. He took my hand and walked up to the bouncer who smiled and shook his hand, then opened the door for us, letting us skip the line. Apparently, he was well-known here. The unpleasant thought that he must be here often with a lot of dates crossed my mind, but then we were through the second set of doors and the music was loud, so loud that I lost my thoughts and remembered the feeling—the bass shaking my lungs, reverberating within my rib cage, and the only feeling being this moment, the music, the lights and how much I wanted to move.
He still had my hand and was navigating through the crowd to a roped off area in the back. A hostess saw him and smiled broadly, waving us over. She pulled back the rope to the VIP section and they exchanged brief pleasantries that I couldn’t hear over the music. We sat on a low, plush couch with a few small side tables arranged around it and she came back with drinks, a mojito for me again, plus a bottle of beer for him.
Once we were settled, he dropped his hand between us and touched my leg, hooking his index and ring fingers under the hem of my dress, not pulling it up or reaching, just lightly stroking my thigh with his fingers. I wanted him to push my skirt up and touch me more, harder. Wanted wasn’t even strong enough of a word. It was overwhelming how much I wanted him, but there was something that held me back from taking the next step, from grabbing him and straddling his lap. At the thought of riding him, a small gush of moisture dampened my barely there thong. A beat or two later, I swear he took a deep breath in through his nose, like he could smell me, smell how much I wanted to get fucked tonight.
The DJ started blending the beat into another song and Xander pulled his hand away. He slipped his hand behind me, touching the small of my back. He leaned into me, voice firm, easily heard over the music, “Okay, little girl, get up, get out there. I have been thinking about your body moving in that dress since I picked you up.”
“Come with me,” I asked him, feeling self-conscious.
He was starting to shake his head, when Christy came up, yelling, “Hey, girl, let’s go!” She pulled me up, out of his reach and out to the dance floor.
Chapter Seven
Xander
Far East Project—Featuring Stereotypes, Girls on the Dancefloor
Christy pulled Leda to the dance floor. Despite the crowd, my view of them was fairly unobstructed. I could see them talking a bit as they started dancing, but the music was too loud for conversation and they gradually got lost in movement.
Leda’s hips moved, swaying back and forth, slower than the beat of the song. As if she was trying to tempt me, taunt me. But she never looked back at me in challenge like I would have expected if that was really the case. She was just in the moment, dancing for herself, for her own joy in it—and that was sexier than any little tease she could have done.
She and Christy were pressed tight in with everyone else on the dance floor, and periodically one of them would get bumped, but at least initially no one seemed to be bothering them. The music faded between two songs. The bass started pumping, low and aggressive, insistent and Christy grabbed her, spun her and started grinding on her ass. Bending her over. It looked good.
The music stilled for a beat then came back stronger. And it was like the girls lost their minds, jumping up and screaming, laughing. Leda’s tits moved like they might bounce out of her dress and her hair was starting to fall out of her clip. She was succulent, something I wanted to have my mouth on.
Jason walked through the club, laughing when he saw them. He grabbed Christy and kissed her, gave Leda a head nod and came up to sit with me. The girls barely paused in their dancing. They were wild, feeding off each other’s energy, their tentative movements becoming more abandoned, reckless.
“How’s the big first date going?” Jason asked as he sat down, nodding toward the girls and smiling.
“Good. Look at her moving.” I didn’t look at him because she was more fun to watch. The lights in the place pulsed with the bass and her movements were washed in a red-light strobe effect that seemed like I was tripping. She was looking back at me now and I was starting to twitch my lips in a smile, but Christy grabbed her and pulled her attention away from me.
We watched them dancing, lost in the trace of the music and their movement, barely speaking to each other. But enough time passed and I wanted to touch her.
“Be back in a minute.” I got up without looking at Jason. My cock wanted her, wanted her panting at my feet. I walked through the crowd, noticing that I was a good five to seven years older than everyone else in here. Everyone in the club knew it. They responded to that, my size, or just the cocky, alpha fucking way I carried myself. They moved out of my way as I went to get my little girl. Christy was saying something as I walked up behind Leda and pulled her into me.
I wrapped an arm around her like I was taking her hostage, but she didn’t seem to mind. I dropped my lips next to her ear, “Little girl, you move so good, but I want you to come drink something and rest for a bit.” I held her hip against me and pulsed a little with the music, enjoying her ass against my cock.
Christy smiled because she was just as dirty as me and probably knew what I was thinking. But I felt my cock starting to stiffen and took a step back, pulling Leda backward. After a few steps, we turned around and I guided her to our table.
The waitress had brought another round of drinks, including some bottles of water, which I would have made my little girl drink if she hadn’t reached for one first. She was flopped on the couch, sweaty, breathing a little hard. I could imagine that I had just used her, hard and rough. I smiled a little to myself and sat next to her, running my fingers over her back.
The three of us didn’t speak, only watched Christy dancing, her shiny silver dress and big blonde hair easy to
find in the crowd. And the inevitable dude found her. There’s always a dude at the club. Always a dude looking for a girl to grind up on. So here was the one for the night. I was glad it was Christy and not Leda, because I couldn’t have been cool about it. My claim wasn’t established enough yet to tolerate even a perceived threat. But even if it was…the assumption that any girl is fair game to grind your dick on, just because she’s dancing…it just pisses me off.
But Christy and Jason had been through this scenario in so many different permutations that I just sat back to watch. When it was Jason getting hit on, Christy was in there right away, but Jason liked to let it build. Christy glanced over and he gave her the go-ahead. Jason watched her, smiling, but I felt his tension building. He made it through an entire song. The dude tried to say something in Christy’s ear, but she just shushed him with her fingers over his lips. And that was it for Jason. He took a deep breath.
“I have to go get her,” he muttered, barely audible over the music as he stood up, adjusting his cock, and walked briskly across the floor. Christy didn’t notice it yet, but Leda was leaning forward, tense.
Jason approached from the side and the dude noticed him first. Christy opened her eyes and locked her gaze with Jason’s. Electricity passed between them and I knew that guy was fucked. Christy moved away from the dude, saying something in his ear as Jason stepped in behind her.
This is when the slacker persona was revealed for an act, because no one looking at Jason would have dismissed the threat in his presence. He ran his hand up Christy’s back and coiled his hand in her hair. I moved my hand onto Leda’s thigh, her skin a little damp still. I left my fingers light, not flexing. Let her notice whenever she did.
Wrecked (The Blackened Window) Page 5