The Complete Beast House Chronicles
Page 29
Brian let out a quick laugh. ‘Touché,’ he said.
‘Let’s leave.’
‘Gorman thinks there might be a hole. He’s more gullible than me.’
‘Let him come and look for it.’
‘What’ll I tell him?’
‘Just say we couldn’t find it.’
‘That would be fibbing.’
She glanced to each side. ‘I don’t see the hole. Do you see the hole?’
Brian laughed. ‘You’re really something, Janice.’
‘Am I?’ She put her hands on his sides, and stared into his eyes. ‘What kind of something?’
‘Later. We’ve got to get out of here, remember?’
‘No. Come on, you started it.’
‘You’re funny,’ he said. ‘And crafty. And cute.’
‘Cute? Hamsters are cute.’
‘Okay, how about beautiful?’
She tilted her head. ‘That’s nice. Now we can leave.’ But her hands didn’t leave Brian’s sides.
He eased her close and she pressed herself tightly against him, arms wrapping his back, mouth opening, sucking in his tongue. She squirmed and moaned in his embrace.
Brian slid his hands under the back of her sweatshirt. Caressing her, he pictured himself gloating as he described it all to Gorman. Nothing to it, really. I just worked on her emotions, played on her fears till she needed some reassuring, gave a comforting pat here and there, a little wit to break the tension. Worked on her sympathy by leading into some sad talk about my poor departed Martha. Tried to keep a sexual undertone going, joked that I’d brought the blanket for making out, even took a leak out there so she’d have to think about my dick. Stayed close enough so she could hear the piss splatter.
Masterful job, Gorman would say.
He unhooked the back of Janice’s bra. She didn’t object. On the contrary, she stepped back enough to make a space between their bodies so Brian could lift the cups away and caress her breasts. Her nipples felt like rubber posts. She arched her back as he thumbed them.
‘Shouldn’t we leave?’ he asked.
Her mouth hung open, but she didn’t speak. She shook her head wildly from side to side, making her hair fly.
He slid the sweatshirt up above her breasts, crouched, and used his tongue. Her trembling fingers pushed through his hair, urged his mouth hard against her breast.
Actually, Gorman, it was a cinch. She was as hot to trot as they come.
No, he shouldn’t admit that. Let Gorman think he’s a superstud.
Which, of course, I am.
As he sucked first on one breast, then on the other, his hands plied her firm rump through the seat of her jeans.
I took it slow, he would say. Didn’t want to spook her.
He brought a hand to the front. The crotch of her jeans felt warm and moist. He pressed against it, feeling the jut of her mons through the heavy fabric. She writhed on his rubbing fingers as if she wanted them in.
Straightening up, he pulled her sweatshirt over her head. The bra came off with it. He caressed her bare neck and shoulders as she feverishly unfastened his jacket and shirt. When they were open, she squeezed herself against him. Her breasts, slicked with Brian’s saliva, felt cool at first, then warm. Her hands went to his shoulders. They pulled the shirt and jacket down his arms. The chilly night air made him flinch, but her hand took his mind off the cold as it pushed inside his pants and curled around his erection.
‘Let’s put the blanket down,’ she whispered, her fingers gliding. ‘That’s what you brought it for.’
‘It is?’
Grinning, she gave his scrotum a gentle squeeze. Then she took out her hand. They spread the blanket nearby. It was puffy from the weeds beneath it. She walked on the blanket, her moonlit breasts jiggling as she stomped it down.
Lying on her back, she crossed each leg to pull off her boots and socks. She opened her jeans, lifted her buttocks off the blanket long enough to tug the pants out from under her, and raised her feet. ‘Give me a hand?’
Brian gripped the cuffs and slid the jeans off her legs. The panties were around her thighs, very white below the dark triangle of her pubic thatch. Crouching beside her, Brian drew the flimsy garment down to her ankles and off.
While he shed the rest of his own clothes, he watched Janice squirm slowly, caressing herself. She had her knees up, her heels dug in to keep her from sliding down the gradual slope.
Her legs spread wide for him when he knelt. He kissed her inner thighs, nibbled and licked, easing lower until his mouth found her wet center. She jerked as his tongue darted. ‘God, Brian,’ she murmured. He pushed his tongue deep into her hugging warmth. She thrust against him, moaning.
Then he moved up her body. His tongue flicked into her navel while his hands glided up cool skin to her breasts. He squeezed and massaged them. Then he let them go and braced himself above Janice and kissed each breast and eased higher until he met her mouth.
As she sucked his tongue into her mouth, Brian slid his penis into her.
Mission accomplished, he thought.
Half accomplished, but the rest would be easy after this. Just get her into his room tomorrow night for round two and keep her busy. Talk her into showering with him so Gorman would have a chance to snatch her key. Gorman would have the tough part, sneaking into her place to find the contract and exchange it for the phoney that gave her nothing. Brian’s part would be a cinch. And fun.
Better than this.
In spite of the blanket, the ground was brutal on his knees. But he kept at it, kept driving into Janice. She was going wild, thrashing around and shoving up to meet his thrusts and tugging his buttocks to force him deeper.
She would drool at the chance for an all-night fucking session.
Why don’t you sneak over after your folks are asleep?
She would absolutely drool. At both ends.
She was gasping under him, eyes squeezed shut, head jerking from side to side. A few more good thrusts . . .
Something cold and slippery smashed down on Brian’s back. His knees shot out from under him. He slammed flat against Janice. Her breath blasted against his face.
Brian thought, Who in hell . . .?
Then the teeth clamped his neck.
10
Tyler took Abe’s hand as they left the Carriage House ‘That was a delicious dinner. Thank you.’
‘My pleasure.’
‘So,’ Jack said, ‘should we try that place?’
‘The Last Chance sounds like a dive,’ Nora said
‘We could look for someplace else,’ Abe offered.
‘The waitress seemed to think it’s fine,’ Tyler said.
‘Hell, I love dives.’
‘Nora’s an expert on dives.’
‘Especially the triple back somersault.’
Jack nudged her with an elbow. Giggling, she stumbled sideways toward the hedge. Jack grabbed her, and she wrapped an arm around his back.
‘Anyhow,’ she said, ‘I am inappropriately attired for a dive of any ilk and must therefore retire to my boudoir for a change of habiliment.’
‘She wants out of her prom dress,’ Tyler translated.
‘Need a hand?’ Jack asked.
Nora swatted his rump.
‘I’ll want to get a jacket,’ Tyler said.
They agreed to meet at Abe’s car in five minutes, and left the men. Tyler entered the room after Nora. Even as she shut the door, Nora’s gown swirled to the floor. ‘Aren’t they great?’ she asked. Stepping out of it, she staggered and dropped onto the bed, her breasts bouncing.
‘Are you all right?’ Tyler asked.
‘Fine and dandy.’ Flopping backwards, she smiled at the ceiling. Her pubic hair was matted flat by her pantyhose.
‘You aren’t going to pass out on us, are you?’
Nora rolled her eyes. ‘Hardly. I’m fine. Are you fine?’
‘I’m fine.’
‘So am I.’ With a sigh, she sat up and started to p
ull her shoes off.
Tyler went through the connecting doors and slipped into her windbreaker. She brushed her hair and put on fresh lipstick. When she returned to Nora’s room, her friend was on the mattress, legs hoisted in the air as she pulled on a pair of white jeans. The pantyhose lay on the floor. ‘So what do you think?’
‘About what?’ Tyler asked.
‘My lily-white ass. Abe. Honest Abe.’
‘I like him.’
She raised her bare rump and pulled up the jeans. ‘Like him a lot?’
‘Very much.’
Nora sat up. She started to put on socks and loafers. ‘So, gonna fuck him?’
‘For godsake.’
‘Take your mind off Dan.’
‘Sure. Let’s have a foursome.’
‘I could go for that.’
‘You’ve got sex on the brain.’
‘And proud of it.’ Laughing, Nora stood and slipped into a plaid shirt. She buttoned it only halfway up, and tucked it into her jeans. ‘If I were you,’ she said, ‘I’d go for it.’
‘I know you would.’
‘You only go around once.’
‘My life is not a beer commercial.’
With a laugh, Nora zipped her fly. ‘Let’s went, Queeksdraw.’
‘Jacket?’
‘And hide my considerable charms? Bite thy tongue, wench.’
They went outside. Abe and Jack were waiting in the Mustang. Leaning across the seat, Abe opened the door. Nora climbed in back with Jack.
‘You look good in your dive habiliments,’ Jack told her.
‘I look better without ’em.’
‘Bet you do.’
Tyler slid onto the bucket seat and pulled her door shut.
‘No funny stuff back there,’ Abe said as he started the car.
‘Far be it from us,’ Nora said with a giggle.
‘Are you sure you two are librarians?’ he asked.
‘Nora’s a librarian. I’m a media specialist. That’s their five-dollar term for a school librarian.’
‘I’m a school librarian,’ Nora protested.
‘Don’t look like one,’ Jack said.
‘She’s college,’ Tyler said. ‘I’m high school. They don’t fool around that much with projectors and . . .’
‘Just when I’m horny,’ Nora said.
Though there were no other cars in sight, Abe signaled his right-hand turn before swinging onto the road. The headlights bore pale tunnels into the darkness. ‘If this place turns out too sleazy,’ he said, ‘we can always try somewhere else.’
‘Let’s hear it for sleaze!’ Nora called out. She and Jack clapped and whistled.
‘Do we want to be seen with these two?’ Abe asked, smiling at Tyler.
‘I think we’re stuck with them.’
‘He’s trying to pull the wool over Tyler’s eyes,’ Jack whispered loudly. ‘Point of fact, Abe’s an animal. Tell you the time he pissed on Colonel Lockridge? Jesus jumping Christ.’
‘Jack!’
‘You . . . urinated on a colonel?’ Tyler asked.
‘Just on his legs. He had it coming.’
‘Right in the fuckin’ officers’ club.’
‘In the restroom?’
‘Right in the fuckin’ officers’ club,’ Jack repeated, louder. ‘After that, they called him “Whizzin’ Abe”.’ Abe, laughing softly, shook his head. ‘It was a long time ago. My manners have improved.’
‘Two years ago.’
‘You’re asking for it, Jack.’
‘What did this Lockridge do?’ Tyler asked.
‘Changed his pants,’ Jack answered.
‘No, I mean . . .’
‘He’d insulted a friend,’ Abe explained.
‘Remind me never to insult your friends.’
‘You’ve nothing to fear.’
‘Whizzin’ Abe is a gentleman with the ladies,’ Jack said. ‘Usually. Though I do remember that time . . .’
‘And here we are,’ Abe said. ‘The Last Chance Bar.’
The sign, just ahead, lit up the darkness with red neon letters. An upper corner sported the outline of a tipping cocktail glass. ‘What do you want to bet,’ Nora said, ‘the other side says First Chance Bar?’
As if to satisfy her curiosity, Abe drove past the sign before turning onto the gravel lot.
‘It does, it does!’ Nora blurted. Someone back there slapped someone’s bare skin.
The tires crunched over gravel as Abe drove along behind several parked cars. The building, a squat adobe box, had neon beer signs in both its front windows. Tyler heard muffled sounds of music from inside: Waylon Jennings singing ‘Luckenbach, Texas’. Abe pulled to a stop beside a pickup truck, and they climbed out.
He took Tyler’s hand. The music stopped as they entered the bar. Through the noise of voices and laughter came the jingle of a pinball machine, the clack of pool balls. The warm air was thick with swirling ribbons of smoke. As they made their way toward a table, Tyler saw a few heads turn to inspect them. One of the faces, ruddy and white-bearded, belonged to Captain Frank. He stared at her, one eye squinted almost shut. She nodded a greeting. A corner of his mouth pulled crooked, and he turned back to the bar.
‘Know him?’ Abe asked.
‘We ran into him when we were looking for Dan.’
Abe pulled out a chair for her. She sat at the table, her back to the wall, and saw Captain Frank glance over his shoulder. Then Nora blocked her view of the man.
A barmaid came. As she cleared away a couple of beer mugs and mopped some wet rings and puddles off the table, Nora eyed her costume: cowboy boots, blue denim short-shorts, and a blouse in the pattern of a red bandanna. The blouse was knotted in front, leaving her midriff bare. ‘What’ll it be, folks?’
‘I like your outfit,’ Nora said.
‘Do you? It’s my own creation. Gives the fellas something to look at.’ She winked at Abe. ‘’Course, Charlie says it’s shameless.’ She laughed. ‘“Struttin’ your wares like a floozy.” He goes on and on, but we bought us a brand new twenty-nine-inch Sony TV from my tips, and I don’t hear him squawk about that, do I?’
‘Men are just weird,’ Nora pronounced.
‘Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em. You folks on vacation?’
Nora nodded.
‘Well, that’s real good. Hope you’re having a ball. Now, what can I fetch you?’
They discussed it for a moment, then Abe ordered two pitchers of beer.
‘I’ll be right along with ’em, and I’ll bring along a nice bowl of popcorn to keep you wanting more.’
When she was gone, Nora said, ‘I wonder if they’ve got any openings.’
‘You just want to strut your wares,’ Tyler told her.
With a prolonged stare at Nora’s cleavage, Jack said, ‘She’s already at it.’
‘Get in there!’ yelled a man at the pool table. ‘All right!’
From the juke-box at the far end of the room came the voice of Tom T. Hall singing ‘I Like Beer’.
‘Reminds me of Le Du’s joint in Saigon,’ Jack said, looking across at Abe.
‘Does at that,’ Abe said. ‘Le Du was a great lover of the old West,’ he explained. ‘Found himself a pair of woolie chaps somewhere, and he wore them no matter how hot it was in that bar of his. He had a ten-gallon hat that must’ve been nine gallons bigger than his head.’
‘Was he a half-pint?’ Tyler asked.
Abe laughed. ‘That, and then some.’
‘He got what he had coming,’ Jack said, grinning mysteriously.
‘Oh, no.’ Nora wrinkled her nose. ‘Was he a sympathizer?’
‘Yup,’ Abe said. ‘A sympathizer with Hoppy, Gene and Roy.’
‘Don’t forget Randolph Scott. That was his favorite.’
‘Last we heard, Le Du’s the proprietor of the Hole in the Wall saloon in Waco, Texas.’
‘Hope he’s improved his costume,’ Jack added as the barmaid approached with a laden tray.
Abe looked perplexed. ‘Who?’
‘The fella over there.’ She nodded toward the bar. Captain Frank had swiveled around on his stool to face them. ‘Said the girls are old mateys.’
‘Did he?’ Nora asked. ‘That’s sweet. Why don’t we ask him to join us?’
Tyler felt a tightening in her stomach.
‘That okay with you guys? He’s probably lonely.’
Shaking her head, the barmaid walked away.
‘It’s all right with me,’ Abe said.
‘Long as he doesn’t try to move in on us,’ Jack added. ‘Can’t have that.’
‘I’ll go get him.’ Nora stood, and made her way toward the bar.
‘Who is this guy?’ Abe asked.
‘Captain Frank,’ Tyler said. ‘Just an old guy who fancies himself a seaman.’
Abe frowned. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing, I guess. I just find him a little . . . strange. You ought to see his bus.’
‘If he makes you nervous . . .’
‘Too late, now.’
Nora, holding onto the old man’s arm, was steering him toward the table. He drank from a half-empty mug as he walked. He had on the same faded Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts he’d been wearing that afternoon. His scrawny legs looked out of place beneath his massive torso. He moved with a list.
When they neared the table, Nora found an empty chair for him, and placed it next to Abe. ‘’Preciate it, mate,’ he told her, and sat down.
Nora made introductions.
As Abe filled the man’s mug from one of the pitchers, everyone thanked him for buying. ‘My pleasure,’ he said in a low, thick voice. ‘My penance.’ He raised his mug, winked and drank, and wiped his mouth with the back of a liver-spotted hand. ‘Sins of our fathers,’ he mumbled.
‘You’re a seafarer?’ Abe asked.
‘Fair and foul. A seafarer. Yes, indeed. That’s me, Captain Frank, old salt. Me and my father before me.’ He leaned forward and stared with bleary eyes at Tyler. ‘God forgive him, he brought it here.’
Tyler, unsettled by his gaze, looked down at her beer.
‘Brought what?’ Nora asked.
‘The beast.’