by P. J. Day
“49ers hat? Okay, I’ll go. I will not engage unless I know it’s safe.”
“Definitely. See, you got what it takes to be a spy. You want to reconsider your decision on leaving?”
“No, I’m leaving, quit trying to butter me up. If I engage, what do you want me to say?”
“Tell them I sent you. Tell them I had business dealings I had to take care of. Just find out what they want and who they are and let me know as soon as possible.”
“What if there’s trouble?”
“There won’t be. They want to see me. If they hurt you, they won’t be able to get whatever they want out of me. Plus, in my gut, it doesn’t sound like a dangerous situation. It’s a public place after all.”
“All right. Hey, what if they follow me or something?”
“Let them follow you. Odds are I won’t be at the Peninsula tonight anyway.”
Ted wooed loudly on the phone.
“I knew you weren’t coming back. You stud you!”
“Shh...they are going to hear you in the room, be discreet, dammit! Also, it’s not what you think. The night is going very well. Okay, it is what you think but Holly is different.”
“Jack King is falling for a girl?”
“No, look... I’ll let you in on the details tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait for the details, oh boy!”
“Ted, cut it out.”
“Does she know about your condition?”
“Kind of. I’ll let you know tomorrow. “
“I’ll scope out the situation and I’ll have a report as soon as possible. Keep your phone on.”
“Thanks, man. Keep me in the loop.”
“Roger that. Get some blood, buddy!”
“Later, man,” I said in an annoyed tone, as I hung up the phone.
I walked through the door and out of the smoke-filled patio. Holly now had two dirtbags, instead of one, harassing her at the bar. The other one was also in his 20’s, had a cheap suit on with a cheesy gold chain. Immediately, I felt as if I was in a stereotypically bad action movie that took place in a far off Asian metropolis.
“Hello gentlemen,” I said, as I interrupted their goofball charm circle.
Both sketchy guys stared me up from shoes to hair. I grabbed Holly’s hands and pulled her close to me.
“Excuse us,” I said. I held her arm and we both walked to the other side of the bar, which was a long one; around 15 yards long, in fact. It was made of glass and lit with special lights that would make even the most seasoned stage tech envious.
Both unsavory characters laughed to themselves as we scurried off. I didn’t want to play the tough guy act in front of Holly. She seemed to be a pretty level-headed gal and the bravado act wouldn’t have played well with her.
“Hey honey, don’t let that pasty patsy haul you around everywhere,” said the guy in the Ed Hardy tee-shirt.
“I wouldn’t like it if my man dressed better than I did,” said the other brute.
Holly’s neutral look suddenly gave way to one of scorn. She gave me her drink and walked quickly to the two men at the bar.
“Holly, don’t!” I yelled, hoping to stop her from confronting the troublemakers.
“Listen, assholes, just because I didn’t give any of you a hint of interest, because...I don’t know...maybe because...you know...I’m on a goddamn date, doesn’t mean you have to be disrespectful,” Holly exhaustively castigated them.
The men giggled at Holly’s mousy huff, the reaction annoyed Holly further. Then the guy in the gold chain playfully blew a kiss at Holly while the other guy in the Ed Hardy shirt looked at me with a threatening countenance. His upper lip curling in an exaggerated manner. “Control your woman,” he said.
I grabbed Holly by the arm and tried getting her attention. She was still puffy-chested and confrontational. “Holly, please calm down. Let’s go...this is stupid,” I pleaded, as we began to draw a small crowd around the bar. Holly then grabbed one of her heels and cocked her arm back, while almost stumbling onto the floor. I clutched her wrist as she released the heel. The heel hit the floor in a flounder, bouncing a few times before resting a couple of feet in front of the men. They both stared down at the shoe. The guy in the suit picked it up and threw it at the both of us as I attempted to drag Holly out of the club. I heard the heel flying through the air as soon as it left the man’s hand, it created a refraction of sound with its unique shape, interrupting the consistent ambient noises the club had accustomed me to. Even though my back was turned toward the men, I knew what was heading my way. I caught the flying heel with my left hand as I gripped Holly with my right, all the while facing the exit. I’ll admit there was a bit of luck involved with the perfect catch of Holly’s airborne Jimmy Choo, but supernatural vampire kinetics don’t develop on their own, they are honed and ameliorated through years of practice and dedication.
“Come on,” I said to Holly, my voice slightly straining. I looked back and the men did not charge. In fact, they just stood there stoically, not uttering a single word as we made our way out of the club, probably shocked that I managed to intercept the chic artillery in midair. The Lynx patrons all stood at our sides, some with drinks in hand, some passing judgment and some in awe with their cold stares. Club security came running at us; one of them was the ripped fellow who let us through in the VIP line. “What happened?” he asked, his eyes bulging out, clearly full of adrenaline. His partner whisked right past us and engaged the two frazzled thugs.
I looked into the bouncer’s eyes with a look of assurance. “We’re fine. Things got a bit heated back there, but we’re leaving anyway,” I said, giving Holly a slight nod of the head.
“Who was giving you hard time?” he asked.
“Typical club shenanigans, don’t worry about it. Nothing happened,” I said, dismissing the escalation with a flick of my finger.
The doorman let us walk right through and began to gesture at all the patrons to get back to dancing or drinking.
Holly’s body was beginning to feel a little limp as I carried her off toward the club exit. Her one-heeled foot gave her a pronounced limp as the other practically dragged on the floor. She had a slight slur in her voice and the apple martini was probably the final nail in the coffin which by all accounts probably contained her sobriety for the night.
“I’m so sorry, Jack; I was just...defending you,” she said morosely.
“Sweetie, I don’t need defending. I can take care of myself.”
“I know. But you’re such a sweet guy. They don’t know you. They don’t know the heart you have.”
Despite her liquored state, there was a sincerity in her voice that made me feel warm inside. Poor Holly was practically hanging on me like a fleshy shawl as I hailed a cab.
I looked in her glazed eyes and in a big brotherly tone, I said, “If you need to...you know,” I motioned a puking gesture with my hand and mouth, “...just tell me.”
“Please, I’m fine...I can walk fine...the sky isn’t spinning. I’m just a bit buzzed—plus, the night is young. Let’s head back to my place,” she said in a slow, deliberate, and stuttered articulation.
“Are you okay with that?”
“Of course, I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t okay with it, silly. Maybe we can watch some TV or something.”
“Yeah...TV,” I said, with a grin.
We carefully stepped into the cab. Holly leaned into the driver’s ear and instructed him to take us to her hotel. I missed the name of it because I was too busy moving her knee away from my crotch. The driver without saying a word, stoic and with thick-rimmed, coke-bottle glasses, stepped on the gas pedal. Holly leaned on my shoulder and stared up at me. Her eyes were halfway closed and there was a warm smile on her face; her lipstick was almost completely gone, losing some of the red sheen that was proudly displayed on her lips from the moment we left for the restaurant. I brushed the hair away from her face and smiled back. She opened her mouth and I smelled the sweet, pungent smell of alcohol on
her breath.
“I’m so sorry about what I did back there. I just lost it...this isn’t me, I swear.”
“No need to defend yourself. I know you were standing up for yourself.”
Holly gave me a soft pat on my chest. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you,” she said playfully. “I really, really dig you, Jack.”
Holly was not mincing words or playing games. She was as bold as she was beautiful, and through the truth-telling powers of alcohol, I had a feeling her words were the most genuine ones I had heard all night.
“Kiss me,” she demanded softly.
This time my mouth and lips connected with a graceful, controlled agility. There was a combination of sweat, perfume, alcohol and pheromones that oozed from her pores and it drove me absolutely wild. I couldn’t contain myself and something slipped; a question so personal and potentially damaging, so impulsive and yet natural, it must have come out in order to quench my most base instincts. It just naturally flowed from my tongue as I whispered in her ear, “Can I bite you?”
Holly paused for a second, but she didn’t answer. I didn’t know if she heard what I asked.
Her petite hand began to find its way into my shirt and began to knead at my pecs. Her fingernails lightly brushed my skin, giving me an electrical zing that traveled up my spine. “Mmm...pretty nice,” she said, her voice slightly muffled as she continued to feast on my neck.
Her constant prodding, poking, sucking, and licking was beginning to put me in such an aroused state, I knew that vulnerability would follow.
“Holly?”
“What’s wrong?” she responded, pulling her head away from my neck.
“Sweetie, I want you so bad, but...”
“...but what?”
Holly still had the glazed look in her eyes. Her mouth remained open, probably in disbelief that I had stopped her from further ravaging me in the cab.
I pointed at the cab driver, she immediately sat back and crossed her arms and pouted her lips. I then leaned in closer to her and said, “I want to do so many things to you right now, but let’s just wait for a little more privacy.”
The truth was that if Holly continued to veraciously consume every inch of my body, it would trigger a response in me that I knew I would regret. I had to test Holly out before I knew she would be comfortable with a moderate-sized bite to her beautiful neck during a moment of passion, and I also didn’t want to risk putting our cab driver in some sort of panic, once he saw blood streaming down Holly’s neck, which is something, unfortunately, that I haven’t been able to avoid when feeding.
The cab stopped in front of Holly’s hotel. It was smaller than the Peninsula, but had a hip, trendy, modern art look that attracted younger clientele with money. I motioned the cab to stay put as I walked Holly by her hand up to the hotel’s glass doors. She looked up at me and gave me a thwarted look, a look so disappointed, that it could only come from someone who was turned down for the very first time.
“So, you’re not coming in?” she asked.
“You’re drunk, it just wouldn’t feel right.”
“How many times do I have to tell you this. I’m not drunk, I am fine. You’re not taking advantage of me. I am taking advantage of you,” she said, with a smile and a hint of irritation.
“I know, but maybe we should get to know each other a little more. What if I have some weird fetishes that you aren’t fully prepared to handle?”
Holly grabbed my hand and placed her other on the side of my face. “I’m prepared to let you do everything and anything you want to me. You want to tie me up? I’m game.”
“Anything?” I asked with flirtatious inflection.
Holly leaned in, giving me a sexy nod and a sensual bite of her lower lip.
“Anything,” she said, softly.
I gave the taxi a thumb’s up. The cab’s tires produced a screech as it quickly accelerated away from the hotel’s pick-up and drop-off zone. He didn’t look to happy waiting a couple of minutes without receiving a tip.
Holly led me by the arm into the hotel, all the while giving me a look of indulgence. Better to let her take control than for me to seem too forceful. We walked into the elevator and she immediately pushed me up against the back of the elevator. I looked over her shoulder as she panted and heaved uncontrollably, kissing my neck while unbuttoning my shirt.
“What floor are you on?” I asked.
She snapped a number three with her right hand and fingers while being face deep into the skin of my chest. I then reached over her body and quickly pressed the third-floor button. I almost tipped over and took her down with me, which probably would’ve put us in a compromising position, quickly forgoing the slurping and grunting envelopment I found myself in.
The elevator doors opened and my shirt was down to its last button. Holly was pecking the area around my nipples, further inciting my inflamed and kindled state. She tugged my arm and led me to her door. I grabbed the Zeopirudin from my coat pocket and discreetly popped it in my mouth as Holly hurriedly opened her hotel room. As soon as we entered her room, she slowly pushed me down on her bed with her right hand while playfully telling me to wait with her left index finger. She pulled the shoulder straps of her dress away from her body; her dress immediately and gracefully receded to the floor, instantly revealing her sublime figure; one that was statuesque in nature, a perfect muse for the world’s preeminent sculptors. She then got on her knees and arched her back, her upper body angling toward me. I was speechless. I misjudged her. Sure, she was sexy but never did I think she was overtly sexual. Big difference in my mind.
She began to unbuckle my belt as my outstretched grin straddled the line between youthful innocence and sexual deviance. Right as she placed her thumb on the button of my pants, she closed her eyes and grabbed her temples with her left hand. She paused; in fact, that is too much of a tame word that would describe Holly’s suspended state; it was, after all, the horrific end to a potentially amazing visceral experience. She leaned back and stuck out her hand, her palm might as well have been red and emblazoned with the word stop.
“I’m spinning...you...the room...it’s spinning.”
Of course it had to end like this. The joyful anticipation I had of this trip to such a wonderful international city was now just a distant memory. First, I find out my company deceived me, then my best friend bails on me, and now the girl who I couldn’t stop thinking about since I first laid my eyes on her, is one hurl away from giving me the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had.
“Oh God...Oh God...I’m so sorry, Jack,” Holly continued, kneeling over, supporting herself with one arm to the floor in her bra and underwear.
“I knew you had too much to drink,” I said.
I sat up and leaned toward her and started to massage her upper back.
“I shouldn’t have closed my eyes,” she said. “I always get sick when I close my eyes.”
Hoping not to sound like a smartass I added, “Yeah well, it’s kind of hard not keep your eyes closed when you’re face-deep into someone’s body. Completely unavoidable.”
“Jack, that’s not funny.”
Holly covered her mouth, her face pulsating forward. She quickly got up and ran to the bathroom. I swiftly followed in tow. She lifted the toilet seat cover and let out the festering demons that toiled in her bowels. I did what any modern day prince of gentlemanly stock would do in such a scenario; I held her head above the toilet, with both hands and looked away, keeping her hair from getting spewed on. Again, no reflection of myself in the large mirror. I just stared blankly at the opposite wall in the mirror’s reflection. Nothing to see, nothing to distract me from the horrific sounds of a gorgeous woman’s vomiting. I read the contents of Holly’s shampoo that was resting next to the sink, while hearing the acidic chunks of an $800 dinner splashing in the bowl of water below. Stearamdopropyl dimethlyamine sounded cancerous; Propylene glycol was probably miscarriage inducing; Red 40 —I thought it was made up of ground-up beetles.
It was organic, at least.
“I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing,” Holly said, in between hurls. I flushed for her between each hurl.
“Sweetie, it’s okay, we’ve all been here. Staring at toilets, vomiting your innards. I’ve been there, not because I was drunk though. I won’t get into it, but I can relate, you know?”
Finally, she must have thought she was done and washed her face and brushed her teeth. She swished with some mouthwash and took a deep breath.
“Better?”
Holly nodded, wiped her nostrils with a tissue and sat back against the wall adjacent to the toilet. She then covered her face with both hands. “This isn’t me. I hope you don’t think I’m some sort of lush.”
I sat down in front of her and held her hands.
“I don’t think you’re a lush. In fact, you were just trying to have fun tonight and I kept buying you drinks. I should’ve used better judgment.”
Holly looked up and gave me puzzled look. She wiped a few tears from her eyes. “It was my decision, don’t blame yourself.”
“Well, it looks like you got most of it out of your system.”
Holly smiled. Gingerly, she stood up and walked to the bed. I stayed in the bathroom for a couple of minutes and cleaned up the mess she left behind that didn’t make it down the bowl. I covered my nose in the process, my enhanced olfactory abilities didn’t take too kindly to the stomach acids of mortals. It was a step below the smell of death in my book. As soon as I was done cleaning up I exited the bathroom right away and closed the door, so the lingering smell didn’t penetrate the rest of the room.
Holly lay still in her bed in the fetal position. She was slightly trembling. I laid next to her and covered her with a blanket. I noticed that her breathing was somewhat labored but nothing too extreme. As soon as I finished tucking her in, I stood up, picked up my belt, and started buttoning my shirt.
“Are you leaving?” Holly asked, slowly turning her head toward me.
“I’m not going to leave you in this state. I’ll just sleep on this nice, comfy chair.”
“Don’ be silly. You’re back is gonna hurt if you do that.”