Ex-Con Times Two

by Jay S. Wilder

  “I get it. I just don’t want the firm to have to say goodbye to you too early. You know my dad. He’s fired fully qualified, longstanding staff for less.”

  She crosses her arms over her perky breasts. “Jesus fuck, you’re a class act.”

  “That filthy mouth of yours does not take away the fact that I’d be sad to see you go.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Since when do you care?”

  I try to look offended by the suggestion. Still, I can’t help but acknowledge that my father and his EA treat her much worse. “You’ve got a college degree to finish. I won’t be the one to add ‘killing Mary Anne’s early attempts at improving her job prospects’ to the mile-long list of things you already feel are my fault.” For some reason, I don’t like how soft and weak my voice sounds while I tell her that. I clear my throat and add, “I need that phone, Mary Anne.”

  She shoots me a look as though my name has just been placed at the top of her hit list. “Give me a break! You must feel so good about hanging the threat of early termination over my head.”

  “I didn’t say I was going to have you fired.”

  “Whatever, Mr. Eldridge. I’ll get right on your phone issue as soon as I’m back at my desk. I’m off the clock now. Beyond that, you and I have no other business.” She sweeps her eyes down my body, then she glances up at me again. “Enjoy the party, Captain Cocky.”

  I rest a hand on her shoulder, and there’s a shift in her facial expression from the physical contact. Lust, maybe? I grin. “Save me a dance for later? Captain Cocky sure likes seeing you all fired up, pussycat.”

  Mary Anne bites down on her bottom lip for a split second, but then she slaps my hand off her shoulder and turns on her high heels. I’m feeling satisfied as fuck at the way she storms off. I stare at her as she walks across the massive entryway to meet her friend, who’s standing at the foot of a grand spiral staircase. I shouldn’t just call them stairs. They’re a massive, magnificent, ornate architectural work of wrought iron, a geometrical masterpiece that on its own would dwarf entire suburban homes. That’s how my father would describe it.

  Dad’s pretentious voice has no business being stuck in my head right now, so I shut it off and hold my gaze on Mary Anne. She reunites with her friend at the stairs, who is now standing beside Holly, the only daughter of my football team’s head coach. The three of them put their pretty little heads together for a chat, and the way they confer has me thinking they're not quite here to party. Not yet, anyway. Their stances and facial expressions mirror a serious corporate takeover negotiation, or a special session of the United Nations Assembly, both of which I’ve witnessed from a safe distance due to my parents’ respective lines of work.

  My suspicion is confirmed when Holly inches out what looks to be a can of spray paint from her purse, then returns it quickly. I figure some kind of prank is about to get underway, so when my buddy Carver steps over to tell me the guys are leaving, I tell him to go on ahead without me.

  Carver gives me a fist bump and gestures over at Mary Anne and her friends. “You planning on a foursome or something?” he asks.

  “Hell no. I wouldn’t take a chance with the coach’s daughter.”

  “Good. I hear she’s letting loose as it’s her senior year, but you’re right. For any of us on the football team, tapping that piece of ass is right up there with failing a mandatory NFL drug test three times in a row. It’s career suicide. You’d best be keeping your distance.”

  I nod. “True. And you have nothing to worry about. She’s not the piece of ass I’m fixing to tap.”

  “Hey, I never said I’m interested in Holly,” he says, and I pick up some defensiveness in his tone.

  “Whatever you, your gigantic dick, and Holly do in your private time is no business of mine,” I drawl, chuckling as I slap him on the shoulder. “I’ll just make sure I’m there to say an extra-long prayer at your funeral, because if you fuck with Holly, he won’t just kill you. He’ll revive you and then kill you all over again, just to make sure you got the message the first time. See you back at the frat house.”

  Carver curses under his breath, and heads for the front door with Tre, Chad, Slade, Mo, and Clive. I look for Mary Anne again. I catch a brief glance of her as she and her friends disappear at the top of the stairs. My curiosity is piqued, among other things, so I ignore the chicks pawing at me as I walk through the crowd, and follow them to find out what they’re up to.

  Chapter 3

  Mary Anne

  I shake my head when Holly says she hasn’t been to a party since freshman year. She’s a senior. What the hell has she been doing for her time here at LSU? I already know the answer to that. She’s been an overly studious bookish nerd for almost the entire time.

  Almost.

  Because she’s Daddy’s little girl.

  Which I totally understand, considering that her father is the head coach of LSU’s football team, and Holly lived at home for the first three years of college.

  It’s her senior year, and she’s been sharing a dorm room with me. That last fact should explain why she’s done a one hundred and eighty degree from her good girl thing. I’m no saint. Except now that I’ve been living with her, I realize that Holly acts one way to the outside world, but is really a closet freak for the men she lets get close to her. I mean, she's probably the only girl on campus who’s into more crazy shit in the bedroom than I am. That should have set off alarm bells in my head, but we still became friends. Tonight, I’m paying for that slight misjudgment. Our friendship may land me with a criminal record before the end of Halloween.

  “Am I pulling off this horny devil costume okay?” Holly asks Wendy and me.

  “I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch, Princess of Darkness,” I tell her knowingly, pushing away her black and red plastic devil’s pitchfork from my face. “Keep that thing out of the general direction of my eye sockets, will you?”

  Wendy chuckles. She straightens out the cherry red devil horns on Holly’s head, and her eyes scan down her bright red, super short tailored dress with frills that fan out over her ass. “This works! You can totally pull off this costume at Christmas, too. Just switch out the horns, tail and pitchfork for a thick green or white belt to make it either a Santa’s naughty little helper outfit, or a bad elf costume.” She turns Holly slightly to check the back of the dress. “Nice. Spiral steel bones for waist cinching, nickel grommets, sturdy black lace-up back, detachable garter belts. This is a great find, hun. The corset bustier can make a wicked western cowgirl getup too, or a badass swashbuckler pirate. You’ve got some options with this one. Try not to misplace it, okay? I may need to borrow it sometime.”

  I raise a hand to stop Wendy. On top of her shoe fetish, she’s a fashion diva, so we’re liable to be caught standing in the middle of the professor’s second floor for an hour or more if we don’t cut this blogtastic red dress review she’s relating to us.

  “Let’s get this over with, shall we? Before someone catches on to what we’re up to,” I say, slipping past them.

  Holly glares at me. “We’re doing this for the greater good of humanity,” she tells us emphatically. “Would you prefer for that devious little stuck-up bitch to never get a wake-up call about what she did to me?” she asks, referring to Reese Bateman, niece of the sibling professors whose home we’re standing in. Reese's mother, the professors' sister, is supposedly loaded, so Reese doesn't really stay here except for midterms and finals, weeks where everybody's practically living on campus. The rest of the time Reese stays with her parents. Reese stole Holly’s man back in third grade, and Holly never got over it. She’s really held on to a shit ton of resentment all these years, and now that she’s about to graduate, everyone who has ever wronged her is a target to finally experience her wrath.

  “Look, I’m here, aren’t I?” I remind her, putting on my most sympathetic voice. “So is Wendy. We’re in, so let’s get a move on, okay? I don’t want to do any jail time. Plus Reese was eight. Maybe she
’s a slightly different person, now that she’s twenty-one.”

  “I’m with Mary Anne. Can we just get it over with now?” Wendy shrieks, but we both ignore her. “I think I saw Chad here, and I need to be gone before he tries to ask me out for the thousandth time.”

  I nod. I’m not touching that discussion tonight. Wendy has been hiding from Chad for three years. She should have been a senior with Holly, but instead she’s a freshman with me, and the reason for her three-year hiatus has everything to do with the whopper of a secret she’s hiding from Chad, another rich kid on the college football team.

  “All of a sudden you care about Reese now?” Holly asks me, also ignoring the Chad-sized elephant in the conversation. “You’ve never liked her.”

  I raise my hand to my temple and take a long inhale. After the conversation I just had with Levi, Holly’s voice is giving me a headache. “Maybe that’s true. What I’m saying is we’re taking a risk, is all. And let’s face it. If we carry out what we’re about to do, we’ll be the mean girls.”

  Holly pats my shoulder. “Okay. I don’t want to get on your bad side, firecracker. We ready?”

  “Yes,” Wendy and I say simultaneously.

  “Wait, wait!” Wendy adds, digging into her oversize purse. She fishes out her cell phone and stretches out her arm, getting into position in the middle. “A pre-lockup selfie is in order, ladies. And we’re under perfect lighting conditions. Smile!”

  She takes a gazillion shots with both Holly and I plastering fake smiles on our faces. As far as I’m concerned, these shots are evidence of our conspiracy to commit a crime. Okay, maybe I’m overly nervous, and maybe it’s not a big deal for an invited guest to vandalize someone’s house. Still, I’m anxious and already frustrated over Levi, or rather, my consistent physical reaction to Levi. Just that little touch on my shoulder has me aroused and second-guessing whether I can make it one more day without giving in to him. Suddenly, what I need is a drink. Or a few.

  “Synchronize your watches, bitches,” I announce, turning the handle on Reese’s bedroom door. “We’re going in.” I gesture over at Holly’s demon costume. “And if I get arrested, I'm telling the cops the devil made me do it.”

  Holly follows me into the room next, with Wendy behind her, who turns the lock so we’re not disturbed while we’re up to mischief. The room is exactly as we expected it. Perfectly clean and organized, with pink everywhere. Holly pushes past me and heads for Reese’s closet. Opening the sliding door, she walks into the large walk-in space and looks around. “So much to work with. The things I’d do if I had time, but let’s just stick to all the pink stuff. For starters, anyway.”

  We sit on the bed while one by one, Holly pulls out every pink item of clothing that Reese owns. She puts them in the center of the room. “That looks about right. Wendy, do you have the spray paint? Or should we just light it up?”

  Wendy points up at the sprinkler system. “You’ll just get soaked. Stick to the spray paint.” She throws a can of forest green paint to Holly, who removes the cover and aims it toward the pile.

  Before she can give it a shake, there’s a knock on the door. Wendy and I begin to panic, but Holly is just standing there, glaring at me.

  “Mary Anne, get the door and keep whoever it is distracted until we’re done,” Holly belts out.

  “Why me?” I ask, although I’m thinking maybe if it’s either Professor Henderson, I can claim I was an unwilling participant, or be the first one to make a mad dash out of their mansion before the cops show up. Suddenly, a kitty cat costume with no mask seems pointless. Next time, I’m wearing a mask. I jump up from the bed and tuck my clutch purse into Wendy’s bag on the bed. “Fine,” I tell them, rolling my eyes. “I’ll get it, but please don’t be pissed if I get lost or distracted in the hallway.”

  I open the door a few inches, more than enough to see who's out there.

  It’s Levi.

  “What the hell are you doing? This room is occupied.” I look past him to check if he’s with someone. He’s not. “Go away, Captain stars and stripes,” I add, hoping the dig will expedite his departure.

  He pushes his foot forward before I can shut the door fully. “I was going to say ‘Trick or Treat’.”

  “I ain’t got neither for you… although I feel thoroughly tricked by the way you had me spinning my wheels for your phone all day,” I tell him. Insulting him didn’t work. So maybe guilt will.

  “What are you ladies up to?” He doesn’t take the bait.

  “Is this your room, Levi? Do you live here?”

  “You know the answer to that.”

  “Then go and bark up someone else’s tree.”

  Levi puts a bit of pressure on the door. He’s not exactly trying that much. It’s more to get my attention. “I could just ask Reese or one of her uncles to come ask you for themselves,” he offers.

  I’m not amused, but I’m nervous as hell. I try lying. “But Reese is in here. Reese!” I call out, hoping one of the girls will answer well enough for Levi to accept my story and make tracks. “Please tell Levi that we’re busy. He’s interrupting.”

  “Reese may have a twin,” Levi says, looking down the hall toward the staircase. “But if you come out here and have a dance with me downstairs, maybe I can convince her she’s needed downstairs, too. That may be just enough time for your friends to finish up with what you’re doing in there. Or, I can just call her right now and ask if she wants to check her room for three college girls and a can of spray paint.”

  Fuck.

  He’s onto us. How does he know?

  I turn to the ladies. Holly mouths the words “He’s lying” and I wonder how the hell she could know that for sure. I give a nervous shrug, pointing at the door to indicate that I’ll take one for the team. “All right,” I tell Levi. “I’ll come out in just a second.”

  “No. You’ll come out now. I don’t have all night.”

  He gazes at me with those piercing blue eyes. He’s not bluffing. I step out into the hallway. Levi takes my arm firmly and leads me into the room across the hall, shutting the door behind him. He grabs me by the shoulder and backs me against the door.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demand.

  He meets my eyes, placing each hand against the door, bracketing me in so I can’t move. I open my mouth to tell him he has no right to manhandle me like this, or to think he can have his way with me, but I don’t get a word out. Levi covers my mouth with his, and swallows up every syllable with a kiss I was not expecting. He steals my breath, and my mind shuts off.

  Christ.

  He can kiss.

  I’m probably liking it too much, considering that instead of pushing him away, my hands are gripping the spandex fabric of his costume. There isn’t an inch between our bodies either. I moan into his kiss as he flicks his tongue and parts my lips. I sound like I’m purring at the back of my throat. I explore his mouth and he ravishes mine, and soon one of my legs has already inched up and hooked around his calf.

  The feel of his bulge pressing against my mound is what brings me back to reality. I’m not supposed to like Levi. I can’t enjoy this. That’s when I use all my strength to push him off me. I pull my right hand to the side, giving me enough room to unleash one heck of a slap on the side of his jaw.

  “I promised you a dance, not a make-out session,” I tell him. “Back the hell up and let me go.”

  Levi rubs the spot where I smacked him and smiles. “That kiss was a long time coming, kitty cat, but the whack across the face was a nice bonus.”

  “I hope it leaves a mark,” I grumble, stepping away from the door.

  He pulls the door open and wedges his hand in the crook of my arm. “Let’s dance.”

  Chapter 4

  Levi

  The second Mary Anne and I make it downstairs, there’s a wall of my football teammates with their girlfriends and groupies waiting for me. I tell them to act like I’m not here. I’m busy trying to get Mary Anne in my corner
after all these years. Priorities come first.

  She walks ahead of me and prowls onto the dance floor like she owns the place. She raises her arms and faces the DJ. He's lucky he has mad skills on the turntable, because that Dracula costume is only slightly better than the sad excuse for a Transylvanian accent he’s trying to pull off. I take four long strides and catch up to her, wrapping a possessive arm around her shoulder. Mary Anne turns and begins to dance, grinding her ass into my groin. My dick is happy as fuck right now, and I realize that kiss upstairs was just a warm-up. My plans for her do not include letting her get away. Not this time.

  The crowd is larger than when I left to go upstairs.. The foyer and dance area are now comprised of swarms of college-aged partygoers with budget costumes that expose more skin. These people are cramped together on the dance floor. Bodies are touching. The sexual energy is wild.

  My kind of place.

  A cocktail server passes by with a tray crammed tight with shots of bourbon. She stops and lowers her platter so we can grab a couple. Mary Anne scoops up two, gulps them down, then she grabs two more. I follow suit, throwing back all four drinks one after the other, snapping my eyes shut as the burn slides down my throat and warms my stomach.

  I stack our empty glasses in one hand, take her arm with the other, and immediately lead her to the only spot on the dance floor with some breathing room.We’re still cramped up against a corner, but it’s the best we’ve got.

  “If you kiss me again, be ready for a throat punch this time,” she warns me.

  “You don’t really mean that,” I answer with complete certainty.

  It’s her eyes that betray her. She wants nothing more than to continue where we left off. I’ve waited long enough. In one fluid motion, I lean down to kiss her lips and pull her hands around my neck, gripping them tightly in case she gets tempted to follow through on using physical violence. Just as I predicted, Mary Anne does not protest. Her hips move into me, already lost to our attraction as the fierce beats of Marilyn Manson’s Tainted Hearts vibrate and intensify the moment.