Fire From the Sky: The Sanders Saga

by N. C. Reed

  “Damn,” Clay murmured to himself, shaking his head slowly at the feat of strength.

  He almost shot to his feet when it looked like she fell, but that was an illusion as her legs descended behind her again to open and pass by each side of the chair. When her legs were down, she pushed herself forward to continue her momentum and was suddenly standing, moving away from the chair now behind her on the floor, left there for someone else to pull out of the way.

  Flowing with the heavy drum beat from the song, she began to move in earnest then. Her movements were much more sensual and refined than the two women before her in the line up. Where those two had been strippers in every sense of the word, Lainie was clearly a real dancer. A performer.

  Her heels made her look even taller than she was, especially on stage. This was his first good look at what she was wearing and it was definitely eye catching. Mauve stockings ran out of her calf boots to attach to garters, the belt of which was hidden beneath a short business cut skirt slit up both sides to allow her to move. Her legs were both shapely and muscled beneath the sheer mesh. The blouse she was wearing was sleeveless, and the top had been professionally cut away to expose the tops of her breasts, having obviously began life as a man's business shirt.

  As she twisted and turned her way down the runway she looked right at Clay and smiled, winking at him as she started a back flip that ended in the splits on the stage floor. Then, in another feat of strength, she got to her feet with her hands pressed to either side of her head by simply pushing her legs together, the force of which slowly and tantalizingly brought her to a standing position and brought her a standing ovation from the entire place, Clay included.

  The song was about half finished when she reached for the skirt and Clay had just thought the place was rowdy until then. Lainie teased and tormented the crowd for a few seconds, then suddenly ripped the skirt away leaving her in the shirt tails, garters more visible yet her belt and whatever else was there still hidden by the shirt.

  There was no twirling the skirt over her head or anything gaudy or gauche as that. Instead she took it in both hands and hooked it behind her, spinning until her back was to the crowd. Looking over shoulder she slowly ran the material down her back until she was bent completely over, her legs crossed at the ankle and the skirt now on the floor. Leaving it there for one of the bouncers to grab, she was up again in a flash, read hair swirling like a halo as she suddenly was moving much faster, her dance moves coming harder and more frenzied as she whipped the crowd to a fever pitch.

  Just when he wondered how far she would push them, the two oversize buttons holding the shirt closed were ripped clean as she pulled the shirt away from her torso, revealing herself for the first time.

  The crowd lost it. Clay could well understand now how this girl had made a good living here before she began managing this place for Leon.

  Rich, full breasts, creamy skin shining in the artificial light, bounded freely now with the loss of the cups built into the blouse. She teased the crowd with the open shirt, playing peek-a-boo with them a few times before leaving it behind for the bouncers as well. Now clad in only a pink G-string and matching garters that went well with the stocking and boots and framed a round, toned rear-end, she spent the last quarter of the song circling the stage three times, making each man feel as if she were dancing just for him, Clay was sure.

  By the time she was finished, he was equally sure she was dancing for him. And found he liked the idea very much.

  Debbie Debutante could never do any of that, he thought to himself with a smirk as Lainie came to the end of her routine and blew him a kiss before bouncing off the stage to a standing ovation and a shower of money dutifully collected by the men whose job it was to do such things.

  “Hey man,” Brick was there just a few seconds later. “She wants you back up stairs,” he winked.

  “Okay,” he nodded and got to his feet. Brick lead him to the door opening into the back, opening a path as no one dared not give way to the huge bouncer/manager. He unlocked the door, shoved away a drunk who tried to get in, allowed Clay inside, then locked it back.

  Clay made his way up the stairs, shaking his head slowly as he did. When he reached the office door he paused for a minute and made sure his head was on straight before he knocked on the door. It opened seconds later to reveal Lainie standing there in a robe, gaudy stage make-up already gone.

  “Well?” she said at once. “What 'd ya think?”

  “Damn,” Clay nodded. “That was the first thing I thought. And about the last, too,” he chuckled. “Girl, you are something else and that's for sure.”

  “Thanks Cowboy!” she blossomed into a bright smile. “Come on in while I clean up!” she said, moving toward her room.

  “I thought you had to work all night,” he called after her.

  “Made a compromise,” she called over her shoulder as she disappeared behind the pink kitty. “Worked the schedule around and gave two girls an extra dance tonight and three tomorrow night. This was all I had to do!”

  “So does this mean we're going out to eat?” he called hopefully.

  “Bet your ass, Cowboy!” she laughed from behind the door. “I feel like you owe me after that!”

  “So do I!” he called back, laughing.

  “I need about ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” she called out.

  “Take your time,” he called back. “You're worth waiting for.”

  -

  It was fifteen minutes on the nose when a freshly showered Lainie came out from behind her pink kitty, hair slightly damp but still looking very nice. A hint of make-up but just a hint, long sleeved navy blue tee and jeans, with a pair of cowboy boots.

  “Nice,” Clay nodded. “Makes me feel dirty and under dressed,” he admitted. He had left home in what he'd been wearing at the time.

  “You look fine to me,” she told him. “Let's go.” She hooked an arm in his and led him down the back stairs. When they got to the door he pushed it open to her surprise.

  “My car-”

  “I'm driving tonight,” he told her. “No sense in having the night ruined with a speeding ticket. Or a nosy cop,” he added with a wry grin.

  “Jealous much?” she smiled brightly.

  “Maybe just a bit,” he admitted.

  “Nice,” Lainie commented as they approached his truck.

  “Thanks,” he laughed, recognizing his own comment being tossed back at him. He opened the door for her and then moved to get in beside her.

  “Hey, this really is nice,” she smiled. “I'm impressed.”

  “Impressed or surprised?” he asked, laughing as he started the truck.

  “Oh, horsepower,” she shivered slightly. “Sounds like a three-fifty,” she added.

  “Three eighty-three, so close,” he nodded.

  “A hybrid,” she nodded. “Not surprising coming from you.”

  “Where to. . .Flame?” he asked with a grin. Her smile fell at that.

  “Don't call me that away from the club, okay?” she asked quietly.

  “I probably won't ever call you that again,” he admitted. “I just did it that once to pick at you. Sorry,” he offered.

  “No, it's okay,” she shook her head. “It's just. . .I have to be careful to leave that behind. I really don't want anyone coming up to me in public going 'hey, ain't you that stripper chick, Flame?'”

  “I can well understand that,” Clay nodded. “And it will not come from me. Where to Lainie?”

  “I don't care,” she smiled again, settling back. “Far as I'm concerned we can get a burger and drive around. I'm a cheap date,” she promised.

  “I'm not,” he promised back. “Like Italian?” he asked.

  “Love it,” she nodded.

  “Know a good spot for it then?”

  “I do, as a matter of fact.” She told him where and they started that way. Twenty minutes later they were talking quietly over a salad.

  “You told Leon where you were?” she asked,
grinning.

  “Yeah. Figured someone should know,” he admitted.

  “Let me guess,” she made a face. “Why in the hell are up there?” she made a fair impression.

  “Got it in one,” he laughed. “I don't think he meant it,” he added.

  “I'm sure he didn't,” Lainie agreed. “You're obviously a favorite.”

  “I don't know about that,” Clay mused. “I'm his favorite go-to, that's it more than anything I guess. But it doesn't bother me. Leon's okay by me.”

  “He's a lot better man than he lets on,” she nodded.

  Their food arrived and they began eating in earnest, talk falling to odd and end things. Once they were finished they did drive around the city for a while. As the clock approached midnight Lainie admitted she needed to get back.

  “We close at two, so I need to make sure everything is good,” she told him.

  “I'm pretty tired anyway,” he admitted. “I'm going to take a shower and lay down.”

  “Better lock your door,” she told him mischievously. “If you don't, never know who might come calling.”

  “I'll consider myself warned.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  -

  Clay was wide awake, pistol leveled and cocked before he realized what he had done.

  “Whoa!” Lainie shouted, jumping back from where she had just tried to shake him awake, coffee spilling on her hand. “Damn, that's hot!” she took the cup in her other hand and shook the hot coffee off the burned one. “Have you had that this whole time?”

  “Lainie?” Clay blinked, then realized what he was doing and instantly lowered the pistol, de-cocking it as he did so.

  “Who were you expecting?” she demanded.

  “I wasn't expecting anyone,” he told her. “What time is it?”

  “Nine in the morning,” she told him, sucking the hot coffee off her hand. “Here, jackass. I brought you this,” she handed him the wet cup.

  “That's a little harsh,” he said, taking the cup from her. It wasn't bad.

  “I didn't know what time you usually got up, but I assumed it was before now, you being a farmer and all,” she smirked. “I wasn't expecting to be nearly shot,” she added tartly.

  “Sorry,” he looked shame-faced. “Force of habit, I'm afraid. There doesn't seem to be a way out of it so far.”

  “I guess you had to be like that before, huh?” she asked, her tone softening some. “Well, you didn't shoot me, so. . .no harm, no foul,” she sat down beside him. “So. . .I guess you 'll be going home then?” she asked nonchalantly. Clay was wearing a tee shirt, much to her disappointment.

  “Yeah,” he didn't see her surreptitious looks at his physique. “Lots to do still. And I have to apologize to Gordy for missing his game.”

  “Real family affair I take it?” she asked.

  “Senior year and he's a sought after recruit,” Clay nodded. “Probably bound for UT come next year as a linebacker.”

  “Awesome,” Lainie said. “Well, I hate to see you go, but I understand,” she rubbed her hands on her thighs and then stood. “I had a really good time last night, just so you know. I may just pop in to see you one afternoon now, though,” she warned.

  “You're always welcome,” he told her honestly. “Always.”

  He barely had time to set the coffee cup down before she was on him. Her mouth on his, she was astride him in seconds, hands behind his head and run into his hair. His hands went around her waist and found her rear, pulling her to him as she kissed him furiously. She came up for air long enough to gasp out;

  “I don't have to work tonight!”

  “I don't have to go home,” he replied.

  And then she was kissing him again, even more heated than before.

  He would not make it home today.

  -

  “So many scars,” Lainie said at one point as she lay cuddled next to him. She was tracing her finger across a white line that ran down his chest and onto his stomach.

  “Occupational hazard,” he shrugged. She touched an ugly looking scar high on his chest, near his right shoulder.

  “How many times were you hurt?” she asked him.

  “I don't know,” he admitted. “I was taken out of action by injuries three times. The rest were treated on the field.”

  “You've led a violent life my poor cowboy,” she murmured against him, molding her body to his.

  “It was my choice,” he shrugged. “Can't really complain about it when I chose it.”

  “Why change, then?” she asked him.

  “Had to come home,” he said absently. “Had other things to do.”

  “What kind of things?” she asked him sleepily.

  “Family things,” he told her, kissing the top of her head. “Sleep, baby girl,” he told her softly. “It's all right.”

  “All right,” she echoed and then was sound asleep in his arms.

  Leon is going to kill me.

  -

  “Did he say where he was this time?” Angela asked.

  “No ma'am,” Deuce reported at supper. “Just that something had come up and he would see us sometime tomorrow.”

  I'll bet something come up, Leon fought not to smirk. He better not be toying with that girl, though. Nah, he wouldn't do that. He's a good boy, whatever he might think of himself.

  And they'll be good for each other, he nodded mentally. It 'll be fine. Better than fine. Well, assuming they don't kill one another, he smirked mentally one more time.

  “Pass the potatoes?” he said aloud.

  -

  With the night off, Lainie wanted to go on a real date, so it was dinner and a movie. She surprised him with an action flick and afterward it was to a Five Guys Burgers for a late night fast food supper before heading back.

  “Let me check in with Brick and then I'll be up,” she kissed him at the back stairs.

  “I'm not causing you a problem, am I?” he asked her.

  “Yeah, but not work related,” she sighed, laying her head against him. “Go on, now,” he shooed him on his way. “Won't take me long.”

  “Yes ma'am,” he nodded and headed up. She joined him a few minutes later.

  “I'm going to take a shower,” she told him, peeling out of her clothes. “Even a few minutes down there and I smell like smoke and beer,” she complained. “You coming?” she teased over her shoulder as she pulled off her jeans.

  “I am now,” he nodded, following after her.

  -

  “I seriously have to go this morning,” he told her sadly. “And I really don't want to,” he admitted.

  “Don't,” she told him. “Just stay here with me.”

  “I can't, Lainie, much as I might like to,” he shook his head. “There are still a lot of things I need to get done. And you don't want to me to be here all the time anyway,” he told her flatly. “The first time one of those guys tries to lay a hand on you I'd probably tear it off. You don't need that kind of juvenile jealousy in a place like this.”

  “I don't have to be here,” she told him plainly. “I can leave any time I want to.”

  “I know that, and maybe some day you'll want to,” he nodded. “But I'm not going to ask you to do that based on what happened here this weekend. That's just wrong,” he shook his head. “But, I do want to keep coming to see you. Not always on the weekend, since you can't keep not working,” he chuckled. “But I know you're closed on Sundays. What other days are you closed?”

  “We're not closed any other nights, but we don't open until seven through the week,” she told him. “You can always come up on Saturday night and then we can spend Sunday together, and Monday too.”

  “That sounds like a plan,” he nodded.

  “Well, today is Sunday!” she smiled brightly.

  “A plan for next weekend,” he laughed, kissing her nose. “I'll be back Saturday night, late, and plan to stay at least until Monday afternoon. That will have to change some when harvest time comes, since we 'll be busy for about thr
ee weeks assuming good weather, but for now we can work with that.”

  “All right,” she fought not to sound disappointed. “But you better not stand me up, Cowboy,” she warned.

  “Not ever,” he promised.

  -

  “So where have you been?” his mother demanded when he showed up in time for supper on Sunday.

  “Ah, checking the fences on the east side,” he told her.

  “I don't mean today,” she slapped the back of his head. “I mean when you tore out of here Friday and then didn't come back until today! Poor Gordy was heartbroken that you didn't show for his ball game!”

  “Don't bring me into this,” Gordy held up both hands. “It's cool, Uncle Clay,” he added. “Deuce told me what the deal was. Said you had things to take care of out of town like.” He sniffed theatrically, much to his grandmother's disdain and disapproval.

  “I am sorry about that,” he told his nephew as he took a seat. “It won't happen again like that if I can help it.”

  “It's okay, seriously,” Gordy said in a more normal tone. “I appreciate you being there when you can.”

  “Sam asked about you,” Abby told him. “I didn't know what to tell her.”

  Should have told her you ran me off, Clay didn't say aloud.

  “Just say I'm not there,” he shrugged. “It's the truth.”

  “Clayton, that's rude,” Angela said.

  “No it's not,” he replied politely. “It's just what I said; the truth. There's nothing rude about telling someone the truth.”

  “Enough,” Gordon ordered. He turned grace over the food and then the grabbing began. Fortunately everyone was too hungry to continue butting into Clay's personal business.