Pinky Promise

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Pinky Promise Page 18

by HJ Bellus


  Shayne’s room is plain. Unless you consider yoga pants and other workout clothes crumpled on the floor as decoration, then I guess it’s decorated.

  “Do you have a roommate?”

  “Theoretically, but she’s never here. She bones her boy toy twenty-four seven.”

  “Gotcha.” I plop down my bag and then use her restroom.

  By the time, I’m back out in the living space Shayne is already beginning to curl her long brown hair. She showed me a picture of her kitty cat costume on Pinterest. It’s a cute combination with a sprinkle of sexy.

  “Wait, until you see the damn costume Miss Tami and her friends put together for me.”

  “Hit me with it.” Shayne looks back to me.

  I pull the tight black mini skirt from the bag. They’ve sewn a very tight white tank top from to the top of the skirt. It has carefully placed dots all over it rimmed with rhinestones.

  “Dayyyyyuuuummm,” she sings.

  “Oh, that’s not it.”

  I pull out the spiked black high heels, fish net stockings, and the headband with puppy ears on it.

  “Jesus, I hope there’s a crotch hole in those fish nets stockings. State is going to jump your bones. Woof Woof.”

  I fall on the bed in a fit of laughter, imagining my fireman attacking me from behind. Shayne tosses me a light up mirror and gestures for me to start on my make-up. I dab some concealer on my trouble spots, then spread out a thin layer of foundation over my face. Next a perfect swipe of eyeliner and a thick coat of mascara.

  “Here let me do your eye shadow. I’m pretty damn good at it.” She licks the tip of her pointer finger and presses it to her ass.

  “Not too much,” I warn her.

  “Shut it and close your eyes.”

  I think about for a second, but soon realize she’s not going to give in anytime soon. I close my eyes and relax as she glides the soft pad of the eye shadow brush over my lids. I hear my phone ding off in the distance, but find myself in a hypnotic trance. The movement of the brush goes out past my eye, but I don’t dare move.

  “Okay, open.”

  I flutter my eyes open a few times before adjusting back to the normal lighting in the room. I first spot Shayne’s huge grin and then I look down into the mirror.

  “Holy hell!”

  I move my face from side-to-side to view the whole effect of the make-up.

  “You just need a bit of blush and I think it’s perfect.”

  “How in the hell did you do that?”

  “Years of dance and gymnastics.” She offers. “We get pretty damn good at it.”

  She applied a thicker layer of eyeliner, smeared my top lid with a gorgeous shimmery silver with layers of a deeper steel color, leaving me with a gorgeous dramatic eye. There’s also a spackling of black dots placed strategically around my right eye.

  “Close your eyes again.”

  I’d let this girl paint my face any day, so I close my eyes and let the master work her magic. I feel her applying a thin line of something on my top lid along my eyelashes, then I feel her outline the black dots with something. Shortly after, a plush brush runs along my cheekbone. I try to pull back, but don’t escape the eyeliner pen running a circle on the tip of my nose.

  “You, my darling, are an official dog. Woof Woof.”

  “Don’t woof at me again!”

  I peer back in the mirror and squeal like a little girl. She’s outlined the dots around my eye with light glitter, applied a set of fake lashes, and a perfect black dot on the tip of my nose.

  “Careful with those lashes, they’ll need a bit longer to dry.”

  “I love it! You’re awesome.”

  I watch Shayne powder her face and begin applying her own make-up. It’s clear she’s going a shade lighter. Her eye shadow is a light pink with a bit of a shimmer. She makes wispy little whiskers, with petite little dots around her nose. She enhances the color of her eyebrows with a light brown.

  My phone pings again.

  State: Are you guys ready?

  Me: Not yet.

  State: I need help getting dressed.

  Me: I bet you do!

  State: Pleassssse

  Me: No! We’ll meet you at your car in twenty minutes.

  I can’t stand the wait, so I snap a quick selfie of my make-up. I have one finger twirled around my hair and my head titled to the side. He replies immediately.

  State: You just gave me a boner…woof woof.

  Me: Not you too!!!

  State: Who else got a boner?

  State: I’m on my way over to beat ass.

  I bite my bottom lip stifling a giggle.

  Me: No one, Hulk! Shayne keeps woofing at me!

  State: Thank fuck. I’m at the elevator…I’ll turn around and wait…hurry your cute little doggy ass up.

  Me: (heart emoticon)

  “What do you think?” Shayne asks.

  I look up to a gorgeous kitten face. Her eyebrows are fluffed up, with white in the corner of her eyes, leading to the bridge of her nose, and her top lip is painted black with a thin layer of glitter all over her face.

  “Meoooow.”

  “No, dumbass, you’re supposed to bark at me and then I hiss back.”

  A garbled bark escapes me and then I giggle like a lunatic. “What are we? Ten?”

  “Why not?” She shrugs.

  Shayne cranks up her iPhone on the speaker dock. Taylor Swift booms out through her room. It’s clear she’s an athlete and has no insecurities about undressing in front of me. I, however, sneak off to the bathroom. It takes too much time and delicate hands to pull on the fishnet stockings. I have no idea how in the hell hookers operate in these things.

  The netting is very delicate, so I roll them up slowly and very carefully, inch-by-inch, until they’re nestled low on my waist. It was just the warm up for the damn skintight dress. I curse Miss Tami as I wiggle it up over my curvy hips. She must have measured me in my damn sleep because it fits like a glove.

  My breasts nearly spill out of the top and my hips are bam, in your face. I smooth my palms down the sides of my hips. I fasten the thick red belt around my middle, pile up my loose curls on the top of my head, and then finally settle the doggy ear headband in the mess.

  There’s no doubt left what I’m supposed to be. State would go wild if I sent him a picture. I think about it for a minute, but then decide against it. His face will be priceless when I see him.

  I enter the main part of the dorm woofing like a sexy Dalmatian to catch Shayne’s attention. We snap several selfies in front of her floor length mirror and exchange high fives like little kids before we leave.

  Shayne’s athletic body is rocking in her brown leotard and tights. Her kitty tail sashays behind her as she walks, while her rhinestone kitty ears shine. We receive a few catcalls as we walk outside. Shayne silences them with a middle finger. But we receive far more odd looks.

  A hipster college man stops us on the sidewalk. “Right on. Love the outfits, girls.”

  “Thanks.” Shayne smiles brightly back at him.

  “It’s cool to show off your love for each other with matching costumes.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “Lesbians are hot,” he replies.

  “I like sausage. Lots and lots of big and thick sausage, asshole.” Shayne stomps off and I follow her.

  “I think you just gave that guy a stroke.”

  “Good, he deserves one,” she replies.

  “He was just being nice.”

  “It doesn’t help my ego. I mean I can’t even get the guy that claims he’s in love with me to fall for me. Jesus, take the wheel.” She throws her hands up. “I’m getting tanked tonight.”

  “Dear lord,” I whisper.

  I try and focus on staying upright on these damn heels. The uneven sidewalk doesn’t help matters much. Thank God, I have a bit of coordination in these legs. I look up into the sun and shade my eyes. A tall, handsome man fills up my vision in the distance. As I

near, I notice his tight white tank top and suspenders hooked to olive colored canvas pants, with a yellow firefighter hat on the top of his head.

  State’s pearly whites shine through as we near him. Then I spot his stormy eyes taking all of me in. Yes, it was his idea to be a firefighter and Dalmatian duo for the annual Halloween party at a frat house where most of his buddies live. He claims it was a childhood fantasy. To me, it’s an awkward as fuck fantasy, but I went along with it.

  “Hey Captain,” I purr when feet from him.

  “We are not going,” he growls. He grips me by my shoulders and turns us around. “Get your ass back to the dorm room and change.”

  “State.”

  “You’re not wearing that,” he says down into my neck.

  I manage to turn around and look up at him. “Why?”

  He grabs my hand pulls it to his erection. “That’s why.”

  “Seems you have a fire in your pants to put out, captain.” I catch his bottom lip at the same time Shayne grabs my wrist.

  “We are going, lovebirds. You can put out that fire later.”

  State groans, but finally gives in. Ryder’s standing by State’s car dressed just like himself, a football player. I have an urge to kick him in the nuts and scream at him to get his head on straight. But, I have enough problems in my life and since it’s finally on track, it’s none of my business.

  The sexy and now pissed off kitten climbs in the back, as does the football player. There’s no lip smacking action tonight. The ride is rather uncomfortable with no conversation at all, so I turn to State.

  “You really don’t like my costume?” I run my hand up the fishnet stockings to drive him nuts.

  “I like it too damn much. I should’ve suggested priest and nun outfits for us.”

  “I feel good in it.”

  “You look like fucking sin on a stick that I want to devour.”

  “That’s the reaction I was looking for.”

  “If anyone looks at you, or even glances a bit too long tonight, I’ll rip their throats out.”

  “Stop.”

  “I’m serious. There are going to be manwhores everywhere.”

  “I’m all yours.” I clutch his hand. “Let’s just enjoy the night.”

  “I will after I take you. I’m finding a room when we get there.”

  “Um, sorry, captain. These stockings aren’t coming back off until the end of the night. I should’ve received a gold medal for getting into them.”

  He glares down at them while stopped at a stoplight. “Damn cock blockers.”

  State makes good on his promise, growling at everyone who looks in my direction. Shayne also dives right into the alcohol floating around and Ryder works the room with his dazzling smile and goofball personality. They’ve really nailed the façade of not caring for each other.

  I remain nestled under State’s arm, avoiding being bumped into. He’s offered several drinks, but turns them all down. He’s told me he doesn’t drink. I know it’s because of our childhood and the damage alcohol caused.

  The three-story frat house is packed with bodies all dressed up in varying costumes. For the first time, I fit in with the other women in slutty outfits. The only difference is, I already have a man on my arm and not on the hunt for one. The music blares throughout the room with grinding bodies in every direction.

  State catches me yawning when he glances down at me from a football conversation with three other large men. I recognize two of the faces from the pre-football party, but couldn’t tell you their names even if my puppy ears were on fire.

  A version of Elvis’ A Little Less Conversation begins playing and I’m shocked when State lifts his arm from my shoulders and steps onto the dance floor. I watch him with curious eyes. He turns to me and begins to rock his hips from side to side then extends his hand, pointing at me. His moves become more exaggerated as he waves me over. I notice his little stunt catches the attention of several whores.

  I walk toward him in my heels, bobbing my head to the beat of the song. When I’m mere feet from him he spins around and then goes into straight dance moves. His feet move with ease as he hooks his thumbs under his suspenders pulling them out and down his shoulder. The man has moves. It takes me a moment to take it all in as he smoothly controls the dance floor.

  I place a hand on my hip and begin swaying to the beat. My feet shuffle side to side in front of him. He winks at me, continuing his performance. I run my hands to the top of my head and let him have it with my hips. My body moves evenly to the beat of the song, with quick foot work.

  I roll my hips back and forth, then let my torso follow the same action. I lick my lips and it must be the undoing of State. He grabs me by the hips, moving his body up against mine. He rolls his pelvis into mine making me smile.

  I step back from him and twirl around. I heat up the dance moves giving him some stripper action with my hips. A random guy bumps into me, nearly knocking me off my feet and State knocks him in the back of the head. He turns around and raises his hands mouthing sorry.

  I figure the best spot to dance is right up next to him. We don’t stop after the song ends. We dance through all kinds of hip-hop songs. I keep hoping for a slow one, but it never comes. For a girl like me, this is like my first prom. By the third song, State reaches behind him tugging his tank up and over his head.

  Now, I get to grind on his sexy-ass body. The tempo of the songs may never slow down, but we do. We’ve made our way out into the middle of the dance floor. We’re surrounded by other bodies who seem not to give a shit about us.

  Gorilla by Bruno Mars begins to play. The chemistry between us combusts instantly sending us into a frenzy. His hands roam all over my ass as I press into him. I throw my head back and feel his lips connect with the front of my neck. He bites down onto the sensitive skin and then licks trials of pleasure behind my ear. I roll my hips even harder into him and he matches with each push. He sings the chorus of the song down into my ear.

  I’m done for the night. Melted.

  He drags me off the dance floor after the song. He snags two cold bottles of water from the fridge before walking us outside on the back patio. We both down the water and then stare at each other.

  I finally break the silence. “That was so much fun, State.”

  “God, I’ve waited forever to dance with that body of yours.”

  I wrap my arms low around his waist and plant my cheek on his sweaty chest. “I never went to any dances in school. Don’t laugh at me, promise?”

  He reaches an arm around his back and finds one of my pinkies. “Promise, Queen.”

  “That felt like the prom to me. Better than I ever imagined, even if I’m dressed up as a damn dog.”

  The vibration of a deep laughter from his chest tickles my chest.

  “Want to know a secret?” He asks.

  “Yes.” I look up at him.

  I’m sure my make-up is halfway melted off, but I don’t care.

  “This is the song I’ve always wanted to dance with you to.” He pushes play on his iPhone.

  Lucky by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat begins to play.

  “Really?” I ask him.

  “May I have this dance?” He wraps his arms low around my waist.

  I place my hands on his chest and sway to the song of us.

  Twenty-Nine

  The joke is on State today.

  “Stop laughing.”

  I roll on the bed barely able to catch my breath. My lower abdomen aches with laughter pain. Every time I settle down, I look right back up to the tower that is State staring down at me in a spandex lime green body suit and break down all over again. Rowe busts into the room squealing. Panic flashes in State’s eyes.

  He hisses, “My junk.”

  He points down to his crotch to a perfectly outlined ding dong and set of nuts.

  “Out, Rowe. We’ll be out in a second.”

  She sticks out her bottom lip.

  “You can’t see your princ
e until he’s fully dressed.”

  State remains panicked with his back to her. She finally gives in, sticks her tongue out at me, and shuts the door with an extra dash of vigor. He leaps onto the bed covering my body. The suit is slick causing him to slide all over.

  “If you think this is funny I can’t wait to see you dressed up as a jackass.” He bites down on my neck.

  I bust into another fit of cackles that have no promise of stopping. My core still aches from our all night love making session. We both finally collapsed at five in the morning which now, looking back, was a terrible idea since we have a day filled of pumpkin picking and trick or treating with Rowe.

  “I can’t even piss. I have to take the damn thing off.”

  “Stop.” I press up on his shoulders.

  “Who in the hell invents this shit?”

  “Shrek lovers.”

  “I’m going to kick your ass,” he growls down at me with a playful smile.

  “You love my ass too much to kick it.”

  “Fuck, my weakness. You’re right.”

  “I bought you lime green gym shorts. I didn’t know how to explain to Miss Tami that you had too much junk for this outfit.”

  “Are you ready yet?” Rowe drums her fingers on my door.

  “God, I need sleep, Shrek,” I whine.

  “Oh no, you don’t. There’s no Shrek without his cute and adorable jackass.”

  I’m pretty sure Miss Tami took a shot or two before venturing out for the day. Damn, I should’ve taken a note from that smart woman’s page book. We are trotting down the third neighborhood in full force trick or treating.

  “Turn around,” I holler to State and Rowe.

  I snapped a picture of their backsides holding hands walking down the sidewalk before I interrupted their moment.

  “Say cheese,” I sing out and snap a picture of Shrek and Fiona.

  They stop only long enough for a quick picture before they’re off again. State’s plastic pumpkin has just as much candy in it as Rowe’s. I’m chalking it up to all the lonely housewives ogling my ogre.

 
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