by P. J. Post
“Cool, score one for me, I’m poor as shit,” I say grinning.
“I meant money doesn’t matter,” she says, feigning offense.
“So I’m genuine?”
“Let’s see, you asked me out yesterday wearing a swim suit, no shoes and a Strawberry Shortcake t-shirt, so yeah, I’d say that is pretty much the opposite of trying to impress.”
“I didn’t think about that to be honest. So hey, what did Carla think, I mean after you came to the show?”
“She thought you were hot and told me to ask you out. She said you probably have girls all over the place and I shouldn’t wait. So,” she looks up at me with concern and continues, “do you have girls hanging all over you all the time?”
“Hot, huh?”
“Uh-huh, that’s what Carla said. You’re ducking the question.”
“Carla said that?”
“Yep. So what about the groupies?”
“Maybe I should be talking to Carla,” I say winking.
“Good luck with that, she’s a lesbian.”
“Oh yeah.” I glance across the bar at Carla and Tonya, and now preppie dude is with them. They’re laughing and appear to be having a good time. Good, Tonya needs to laugh more, but what’s up with the dude?
“Last time I’m going to ask, groupies?” she asks pulling on my leg.
She leans further over, her foot now resting against my lower leg.
“Do you see girls hanging all over me?”
She looks around and shakes her head with satisfaction. “Just one.” She leans into me even more.
“So, is that the list, generally being a good guy?”
“No, he has to be cute too.” She grins.
“Since you didn’t agree with Carla, I must have failed that one, how did I make the cut? Do you grade on a curve?”
“Stop it, no,” she pauses, “horseshit, remember? I didn’t say I didn’t agree with her, just that she said it. I like your eyes too, a lot.”
She leers at me.
And that odd feeling starts poking at me again, demanding attention.
“I’m a starving musician and you work at a bank, you’re beautiful.” She tilts her head and looks away so that I know she is blushing this time. “You can do way better than me, so what gives?”
“Really?”
“What?”
“I may have misjudged you.”
“No really, what?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t feel it,” she says as she slides her hand along my thigh.
“Yeah, I feel something. I just thought it was a cramp.”
She punches me softly in the shoulder and pouts.
I slide my arm around her shoulder and pull her close again. I’m totally aware of the heat from her hands on my thigh. I’m a little self conscious about being so aroused.
“No, I know what you mean. This is new for me, I’ve had girlfriends, but this is something — different, I can’t explain it. I want it to be different,” I say.
“See? Honesty. It’s easy, once you get used to it. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“I saw you jump off the stage and you disappeared into whatever that was going on in front of the stage. You didn’t do that when I saw you before. Carla told me a little about it. It seems really dangerous and, to be honest, I didn’t think you were the type to do something like that.”
“I told you about opening up a can of whup-ass, did you think I was a pussy?” I ask through a grin.
She pulls back slightly and gives me a disapproving look. “No, I thought you had more sense.”
And then I try to explain the pit, without revealing any secrets.
Honesty is overrated.
11
Parking Lot Blues
By the time The Freaks begin their last set, Shauna is sitting on my lap and leaning onto me, my arms wrapped around her. I’m very aware of her ass, her weight, her everything, but I still haven’t kissed her yet.
“Time to go,” I say into her ear.
“Why?”
“The drunks will be leaving soon and the parking lot gets pretty tough after closing. Besides, I have to load out and I’d feel better if you were on your way home.”
“Okay, we can’t hear each other anyway,” she shouts over the music. “Walk me to my car?”
“Of course.”
This is the plan, a romantic kiss goodnight and then ask her out for a regular date, one that includes linen table cloths and maybe a movie, like the normal people from Sterling Hills do it.
She puts one hand against my chest, slips her feet back into her heels and slowly slides off my lap. I spread my legs as she stands. She steps between and stares at me with those smoldering eyes and then leans over until our faces almost touch.
“Are you ready for me?” she asks through that mischievous grin.
I nod as I stare up at her and suddenly hope I’m able to walk normal.
I think she senses my discomfort and grins as she takes my hands and helps me up. I step in front and lead her through the crowd. When we get to the stairs, Ringo stares at her like a fumbling schoolboy who just saw his first stripper. His eyes are glued to her ass as we pass. I nod to him and he just shakes his head and sighs. He says something under his breath, but I don’t catch all of it, just “hot” and “ass”. I can’t help but stare at her too, she’s not just beautiful, she’s sexy as hell.
We are met by a cool breeze as we step out into the dimly lit parking lot. What light there is casts long, deep shadows across the sea of cars. The air is humid but still refreshing.
“Which one is yours?”
“The Jeep, over there,” she says, pointing.
“Really, the bad-ass four-by-four?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just didn’t see that coming.”
“It’s fun,” she says as she twirls through the parking lot. She looks happy, carefree and I feel like I had something to do with her feeling like that. Maybe I can do this.
“Careful,” I encourage.
“Are you a worry-wart?” She asks grinning, she’s always grinning it seems. She spreads her arms out and twirls faster.
“Not about just anyone,” I say stepping close to her.
She stops against me and holds my shoulders. She tips her head to the side, considering and takes my hands, pulling me towards the back of her jeep. She looks up at me with suddenly solemn and expectant eyes.
I can feel myself trembling, something that I haven’t done like this in many years and hope she won’t think me too nervous. I couldn’t help it even if I wanted to.
I step closer and reach up with one hand and brush her cheek with the back of my hand and then lean close, lips almost touching. She reaches forward as I pull back slightly. I rest my forehead against hers, our noses touching. I feel her, the rhythm of her body. I press my face against her cheek, she’s hot and I can feel her sweat. Slowly, I lower my lips to hers.
Our eyes meet.
I can feel her breath on my lips.
I can see her breast rising with each breath.
She stares up at me, first at my eyes and then my lips. She looks nervous.
I move closer, but she leans her head down and away slightly and then looks back up at me, I can see the impatience and desire in her eyes, but something else as well.
I brush her lips with mine, so softly it almost tickles. I drop her hand and take her by the waist as she leans in closer. She raises up on her toes and wraps her arms around my neck, her face reaching up to mine. I meet her and let our lips touch, trying to be gentle and slow, but her lips are eager and impatient. They part and her tongue touches with my own, searching.
She tastes wonderful.
I slide my hands around and rest them above her ass. She breathes deeper and I feel her trembling too.
She stops and looks down. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t honest before.”
I lean back and try to look into her eyes. “What?”
“The list, just, just — how I feel.”
I tip her chin up with my hand so I can see her face.
“I wanted you to ask me out the first time I met you. I thought you never would. I thought there was something wrong with me. Everyday, I wondered and hoped you’d come by. I was always looking out at the parking lot. Is that pathetic?”
“No. But why did you say you had a boyfriend?
“I panicked. I’m not used to being with someone like you, someone I...someone I want to feel the same way about me.”
“Is there any doubt about how I feel?”
She lays her head against my chest and shakes her head.
I don’t want to ruin this moment, I want it to be special. I hold her and can feel her shaking.
I kiss her ear and she looks up. Her eyes are filled with tears and then one rolls down her cheek glistening in the dim light.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“Why?’
“I never thought I’d be with you, I never thought this was going to happen. I was trying to be so cool, so you wouldn’t think I was flakey, ‘cause I am.” Her eyes change and she looks up at me with expectant desire. “I want you so bad.”
I lean down and kiss her as softly as I can, a hint of flesh and then more firmly. I feel her arms tighten around my neck as our mouths open, tongues exploring. I can taste her tears.
We kiss more firmly and I pull her tighter as I move one hand to her ass. She moans and kisses me deeper. I slowly begin to gather up her skirt, pulling it higher.
My libido is taking over and even though I want this, I don’t at the same time. I’m desperately afraid of fucking this up. I don’t want to push anything. We have all the time in the world. She’s not like Debbie or those other girls.
I drop her hem and slowly pull my hand up her back, and she whimpers through her kisses with a hint of frustration and takes my hand and pushes it back down.
I let her guide my hand and begin to gather in her skirt again, and she responds with a deep breath and finds my face with her hands, pressing into me.
I slide my lips to her cheek and then slowly toward her neck as her hands move to my chest. I reach under her skirt and caress the underside of her ass and then firmly pull her tighter still with both hands. I begin to kiss her ear and run my tongue around the edge. She responds again, arching her back, pressing into me and gasps. I guess she can feel how hard I am, even through my jeans.
The humidity of the night is making us both sweat as we become lost in one another.
I slide one hand to her hip and slowly around.
She pushes her hips back slightly, enough for me to slide my hand between her legs.
She catches her breath and gently bites my neck, panting.
She’s hot and only a thin layer of nylon separates us. I caress her and feel a rush as her body reacts.
She lowers her hands and slides them down my stomach, under my shirt and slips her fingers inside the top of my jeans. She grasps my jeans and tugs at me.
This isn’t going how I wanted it to. I wanted this to be sensual — romantic.
I drop her hem and slowly slide both hands up to her waist as we hungrily find each other’s lips again, kissing deeply. She has both hands inside the top of my jeans and jerks the top button open. I pull away and stare down at her. She stares back with those hungry eyes.
“I want to feel you inside me,” she says, her eyes wide.
I look down at her. Why does that disappoint me?
This is all wrong. I don’t know what I expected tonight, but this isn’t it. Maybe I thought she was going to be demure and play hard to get, but she’s acting more like a groupie trying to get backstage right now.
She slides her hands up my chest and around my neck.
“Not in a parking lot,” I say quietly.
She grins as she tries to catch her breath. “How about the Jeep?”
And with that she reminds me of Debbie.
“How about somewhere really nice, with sheets and stuff?”
She pouts, but can’t hold it for long and laughs. The tension breaks like a damn, but the moment is ruined for me and I’m pissed about it.
I place both of my hands along the sides of her face and kiss her gently again and then I stand back, pulling her by her hands. I raise them and softly kiss them trying to recapture that feeling before we came outside.
She looks up at me, waiting.
I smile at her and she glows, neither of us is trembling now, but not necessarily for the same reasons.
“You need to get home, remember?”
“If you say so, but I don’t want to.”
“Yeah, me either, but work calls,” I say.
“You’re no fun.”
“I was a minute ago, wasn’t I?”
She leans up and kisses me again. “Yeah, a little bit, maybe,” she says, holding her fingers close again.
I pull her away from the Jeep and take her face gently in my hands again. “Do you know how I feel?”
She takes a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Do you think I’m going to remember you?”
“Yes.” Her eyes are sparkling.
I’m trying to reassure myself more than her.
“You still want me bad?” I ask and take her hand and hold it to my crotch.
She grins and strokes me through my jeans. “Yes.” She lays her head on my chest, groping.
I don’t want her to react like that. What’s wrong with me? She’s beautiful, desirable, sexual — fucking enchanting. So, what’s missing here, what’s wrong with this picture?
“Good.” I kiss the top of her head and pull her hand away. I guide her around the Jeep. “Now get out of here before things get weird. The police should be here soon enough.”
“The police?” she asks with worry.
“Yeah, they usually show up to hassle us around closing. Fights are pretty common.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, no big deal. But you need to get going.”
She jumps up on the step bar, her skirt dancing.
“I still can’t believe you drive a Jeep,” I say, trying to make idle chit-chat.
“There’s a lot about me you wouldn’t believe,” she says through a mischievous grin.
“I’m sure.”
She opens the door and glides gracefully into the seat.
I can’t help but stare at her legs.
She watches me and I can tell she likes it, which is a good thing, because I don’t want to stop. Part of me wants to drink in every inch of her, but another part of me is already full.
I close the door and lean into the window and kiss her again.
“Be careful.”
“Yes Sir.”
“No, seriously. Do you have a pen?”
“Yeah, why? Oh! My phone number?”
I smile as she turns to grab a pen.
“Hey, Shauna!” a gruff voice shouts across the parking lot from behind us.
I look around and see a cowboy poser stepping out of a red Cadillac parked sideways in the lot.
“Who’s this?”
“No one, let me handle it.” She looks both scared and embarrassed.
“Stay in the Jeep,” I say.
“Shauna, you bitch. Your brother said you’d be here,” the cowboy says.
“No boyfriend?” I ask.
“No, I haven’t talked to him in weeks, honest. I can’t believe Robert told him I was here.”
“He was your boyfriend?”
“Let me talk to him,” she says.
“Wait, do you want to talk to him?”
“No, but...”
“Then stay in the Jeep,” I say firmly.
“Did you fuck her? I did. Hey Shauna, you miss my dick, huh bitch?” The cowboy seems proud of his insults.
“Oh God,” she says, “let me out.”
“No, he’s drunk, stay here,” I say.
I turn around as he approaches. He’s holding a bee
r bottle. I’m not a fan of bottles just lately. I can’t tell how drunk he is. He’s not all that tall, but he’s wearing a t-shirt three sizes too small to show off how much weight lifting he does, which appears to be quite a lot. I’d rather not have Shauna watch me get my ass kicked, but I’m not sure what else to do here. I don’t think she can talk her way out of this one. He’s got that look in his eye — like he has something to prove.
He steps closer and I notice the steel tipped roping boots and the wide belt and oversized buckle he’s using to hold up his tight jeans. “So you want to get in her pants? Think you got a chance?” he asks with a sneer and then spits tobacco at my feet.
I’m was hoping I might be able to talk my way out of this one for Shauna’s sake, but I can see that isn’t going to happen either.
I grin.
This fight is going down and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it and I wouldn’t have it any other fucking way.
Larry, the pit, those two assholes, the show, getting blue balls when I didn’t have to, and then being pissed about it and pretty much everything about tonight has kept me on the edge and even if he kicks my ass from one end of this parking lot to the other, now I have an outlet for all of it.
I look into his eyes again, calculating and then I see it. He blinks, an emotional flinch. He’s driven for some reason to prove himself here and I can admire that, he doesn’t want to be seen as a coward.
But the odds just changed.
Sucks to be you, cowboy dude.
There’s nothing I can do about my hair, but shirts can be used as leverage, so without thinking, I pull it off and toss it aside. And then I remember the scars and pause for less than a second, but that’s all the time the asshole needs to sucker punch me.
I reel back and he takes another swipe that I duck — he’s slow. But, he manages to grab my cap and yanks it off, pulling the bandage and a few stitches with it.
Motherfucker.
My muscles contract as I come up slightly turned from him. The angle is good and I have power with my right. I hit him hard in the diaphragm, driving. I feel the flesh give way under my fist. He doubles over as I bring my left elbow up and across his cheek. Pain shoots down my forearm but I ignore it, he’s looking up as my right fist connects again, this time with his face. I feel a satisfying crunch. Blood squirts everywhere like a fountain. I’m pretty sure I broke his nose, at least I fucking hope so.