Licentious

by Jen Cousineau

  “I’m sorry,” Joey cuts in before sucking her plump bottom lip between her teeth. “I didn’t mean to cause any problems. I didn’t realize this was a closed party,” she announces as she places her hands on the table, displaying her long, thin, ringless fingers. She starts to slide her body to escape the booth, but Dad places his hand on top of hers.

  “It’s quite all right, Joey. Nikolas just has some things he needs to work on. What can we do for you tonight?” he asks genuinely.

  “Actually, I was just wondering,” she pauses, her voice slightly wavering, whether from the alcohol or from nerves I’m unsure, “are you gentlemen thugs?”

  Is she serious? Her pool blue eyes sweep over us as she continues to chomp on her lip. I can’t help it—I burst out laughing, causing the others to join in.

  “Joey,” I say, “first of all—who, in their right mind, would name such a beautiful woman after a boy?”

  “It’s a nickname,” she tosses back, her gaze challenging me.

  “So, technically, your real name, in fact, is not Joey. That’s a relief to know,” I tell her with a smirk as I sit back into the booth cushion.

  She crosses her arms in front of her, resting them on the table, supporting some of her weight on them. She then inches forward and asks, “And why is that exactly?”

  “Because he doesn’t want to be saying a dude’s name when he’s fucking you later,” Tommy decides to join in. Frankly, that comment has my fist clenching. I was itching to deck him in his mouth. Do I want to fuck her? Damn straight. But we were raised better than that.

  “Tommy,” Uncle Jack warns, causing Tommy to duck his head.

  “Actually, I just really don’t care for women who have boys’ names,” I try to correct Tommy’s disrespect.

  “Who says we give a shit what you care for?” she throws back at me. Before I can even think of something to retort with, Uncle Jack and Dad are sitting next to her cackling like mother hens, patting her on the back. She’s not that funny.

  “Care to share what your real name is?” I ask.

  “Not really,” she shrugs as she bites down on the straw of her drink. “Care to share what Alé is short for?” she raises a brow at me.

  “Aléssandro,” I tell her. Our eyes never leave each other. “Your turn.” I nod. She shrugs in response as she takes another drink, turning her attention to Dad and Uncle Jack. Really?

  “So tell me, Joey. What’s your classification of a thug?” Uncle Jack asks before taking a drink from his lager.

  She tips her head slightly to the left, her brow pinched. “Well, that’s easy. Someone who kills for the joy of it. Someone who’s greedy and selfish. Mean,” she shrugs as if it’s that simple. “Basically, someone who only acts with themselves in mind. Does whatever they want just to get ahead. You know,” she gestures with her hands, “gangster. Thug. Mobster. Whatever you want to call it.”

  Tommy chokes on his drink, the rest of us keeping our poker faces on, until Dad erupts with laughter. I don’t know why, but Dad seems to have taken a liking to her. There’s something about this kitten, though. The way she carries herself. She acts as if she doesn’t give a shit, but you can see passion and fire behind her eyes threatening to break free. She’s sexy, yet laid-back. There’s a twinge of loneliness and sadness hiding behind her tough exterior. It appears that she’s constantly trying to hide behind this wall—this façade. There’s something about her that calls to me, pulling me in. I want to know more about her.

  “So, tell me what it is that you were out celebrating tonight.” Dad turns his body slightly to her. “I saw your friend come in and you all celebrating with shots.”

  “Oh!” She says with a nod, taking a drink from her mixer before setting it back on the table. “My friend Addison, we’re celebrating that her divorce was finalized today,” she says happily.

  “Since when is divorce a good thing?” Tommy asks taken aback.

  “Well, when you’re married to someone that breaks your heart on a regular basis, cheats on you, gives you STD’s and makes you cry more than he makes you smile,” she throws back sarcastically with steel, “then I’d say it’s a damn good thing!” She raises her cup in the air as a silent ‘cheers’ before taking another drink. I can’t help but smile at her attitude. Especially toward Tommy. He’s not exactly used to being on the receiving end of it, but he may have just met his match.

  “So, you obviously think that we’re thugs,” Uncle Jack starts with an amused smile. “What is it that you do? Professionally, of course.”

  “I’m a personal trainer,” she nods, “but let’s just be clear,” she sits up slightly, crossing her arms on the edge of the table, “I don’t think you’re thugs. My friend does.”

  “Well, at least she’s honest,” Tommy shrugs, “but let me ask you this,” he mimics her body language, “...don’t you think if we were thugs that we would do something to you or your friend to prove it?” Is he fucking serious right now?

  She laughs. Laughs. “Yeah, I guess that’s a possibility. But,” she holds up a finger, “your reaction to the question is an answer in itself,” she says with a wink.

  “And what is your conclusion?” I ask. I don’t want to be classified as a thug, so I hope she doesn’t think we’re thugs.

  “I’ll let you know.” She winks again.

  “So you’re a personal trainer, huh?” Dad sits back, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Yes, sir. My friend Cameryn and I opened our own studio right out of college.” So she works with this douchebag on a daily basis? I don’t like that. At all.

  “Do you enjoy it? Is it what you love to do?” he asks sincerely.

  “Love?” She shrugs as she teeters her hand back and forth a few times. “But I have to work out anyway, so might as well help other people in the process.”

  “How many people a day do you train?” Uncle Jack asks.

  “Depends on the day. Usually anywhere from three or more. But a few times a year I also hold classes at the studio.”

  “Joey! Hey!” a guy resembling more of a douche bag comes up to the table, wide grin splitting for her. My eyes find Cameryn and I notice that his eyes are now focused on shooting daggers at this guy instead of me. Looking back at Joey, she seems frozen in thought.

  “Hi,” she smiles tentatively.

  “You never gave me your number the last time I saw you.” He smiles as he runs a hand through his long, medium brown hair. If I were a girl, I’d see the appeal, kinda¸ but looking at him, I can’t help but smile wide. Joey is looking a bit uncomfortable, and this guy is clueless to the brush off he received when he didn’t get her number. Poor sucker. You’d think by looking at him that he would be used to that trick a time or two.

  “Oh.” Her brows furrow and she chews on that lip for a few seconds. Pink slowly stains her cheeks. “I actually don’t have a phone. So… can’t give you a number.” She shrugs as she holds her cup with one hand and her straw in the other, slightly chewing on the tip of it. Does she even know how sexy she looks right now? If you’re giving a brush off, you can’t be sexy while doing it.

  “Oh, that’s cool. I had such a great time, I was hoping to see you again, but when I woke up the next morning you were gone,” he announces as Joey starts to choke on her drink. Dad reaches over and rubs her back.

  “You okay?” Dad asks her.

  She gives a small nod and a few more coughs, before smiling back. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  “So are you going to introduce us to your friend, Joey?” I ask with a smile. It’s obvious either she doesn’t remember him or at least his name or she didn’t plan to ever see him again.

  “Oh! Yeah… this is… uh…” she bites her lip at the bottom corner before shaking her head, “I’m sorry. I… I don’t remember—”

  “You don’t remember me? Or you don’t remember my name?” he growls.

  “Both,” she shrugs.

  “We met a month ago at the downtown bar crawl. We ended up joining
forces to get through it and then you spent the rest of the night with me,” he says in disbelief. Anger and embarrassment covering his face. How could she not remember spending an entire night with someone?

  “I’m sorry. It was a pub crawl.” She smiles, unaffected by his change in attitude. “I had a lot to drink, and a hangover from hell the next day to prove it.”

  “Wow. And here I thought we actually had something.” He shakes his head.

  “It was one night!” She laughs appalled. “You can’t possibly know that after only one night.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Forget you,” he mutters as he turns around going back to where his buddies are doubling over with laughter at their table.

  We all just stare at her. Her cheeks now rosy, unsure if that’s from the scene that just played out or from the alcohol. “Sorry about that.” She smiles.

  “So you’re a whore?” Tommy smiles.

  “No,” she counters, squaring her shoulders as if she’s about to go in battle. “I’m a woman in my late twenties who’s single. I have a healthy sexual appetite. As with any appetite, it needs to be fed from time to time. Just like any man can do as he pleases, so can I.” She sends him a smile that drips with sarcasm.

  “Tommy,” Uncle Jack warns, “are you ever going to learn how to treat a woman? This is why you are single!” He taps his hands on the table at the word ‘this.’

  “Dad—”

  “We respect women. We cherish women. I expect you to learn the ways, or it will be you who is disrespected,” he growls.

  “Joey, I wonder if you can help me.” Dad changes the subject.

  “I can try, sir,” she responds turning her attention from Tommy to Dad. “What is that you need help with?”

  “My daughter, Maria, she’s about your age. She’s getting married in a few months, and well, as she is as beautiful to me as she was the day she was born—she does not feel it. I want my baby girl to feel beautiful, special, especially on her wedding day,” he tells her, hope blooming in his eyes. “Maria’s always been curvier, softer than our younger daughters, and I know that it’s been a struggle for her since her teen years, and the way my wife cooks, it doesn’t exactly help.”

  “Why doesn’t she feel special,” Joey asks intrigued as she stares straight at Dad.

  “She’s a bit…” he pauses struggling for the right word.

  “Softer,” I add for him. “Don’t get me wrong, my sister is as beautiful as they come, but she’s self-conscious of the extra… softness?” I say more as a question than a statement. Unsure if ‘softness’ was really the correct way to describe it.

  “I see,” she nods, “and does Maria want to be helped?”

  “She’s done those damn fad diets, cleanses, even starving herself when she was younger. The pressure on women today is downright cruel,” Dad states frustratingly as his brows pinch together. “She’s been looking at wedding dresses for months, and still has yet to purchase one because she doesn’t feel good when she has one on. I want my baby’s smile to light up the room because she feels beautiful.” He stares off into space with a smile filling his face.

  “I’d love to help her. I have to be honest, though. We have quite a hefty wait list for people to be trained by Cameryn and me. So it would have to be scheduled around my schedule versus hers, unfortunately.” She smiles regretfully.

  “As long as we’re clear that, he will not be training her,” I add as I throw a scowl in Cameryn’s direction. I don’t like him. Arrogant prick.

  She laughs. “Understood. When would you like to start?”

  “Tomorrow?” Dad asks.

  “Hmm,” she purrs. I would love for a chance to make her purr in other forms. “I could do eight tomorrow morning. Can she meet me at the studio?”

  “I’d actually prefer it to be at our house,” Dad counter offers. “We do have a full fitness area that I’m sure you could utilize. More so than any of the women who begged for us to create it.” He chuckles.

  “Of course, I think we could make that work. That’d actually be better, because then I can show her the proper techniques on all the machines for when she’s doing it by herself.” She smiles.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joey

  Just before I was about to make my exit from their table, Addison comes up, drunk as shit.

  “Hey! Jooeey!” she slurs as she bumps into the table, causing her to giggle.

  “Oh, my God. Addison,” I suppress a laugh at her inebriated state, “how did you get so hammered so quick?”

  “Cameryn’s ppiisseed at you,” she coos as she points a wiggling finger in my face.

  Batting her finger away, I tell her, “He has no reason to be. He’s not my damn keeper.”

  “Yep,” she says, popping her lips on the ‘p’. “I want to celebrate. And you ditched me for the thugs,” she starts to laugh hysterically, holding her belly.

  “Addison!” I scold her, my eyes growing wide.

  “I’m kidding!” She laughs. “Hey, fellas.” She smiles at the four of them and she winks at Tommy. I can’t help smile. She was on a mission to have hot sex tonight. Tommy is quite attractive—at least until he opens his mouth.

  “This is my best friend, Addison. Addison, this is Frank, Jack, Alé, and Tommy,” I smile as I introduce Miss Drunk-ass to them all.

  “You’re yummy,” she says to Alé. Turning to Tommy, she allows her eyes to move slowly up and down before smiling wide, “and yoou look gooood enough to eat!”

  “Oh, boy,” I say before slamming the rest of my drink.

  “Shots! We are cellllebratting!” Addison calls out.

  “Addison, we should probably get going,” I tell her as nicely as possible as I start to slide out of the booth. Suddenly, Cameryn appears next to Addison, blocking my exit.

  “I don’t tink soo!” she laughs before scooting in close next to Tommy.

  “Are you about done yet, Jo?” Cameryn states coolly, his arms crossed over this chest, a scowl on his face.

  “Rude much?” I spit out at him. “Meet the father of our new client, Maria,” I gesture toward Frank. “This is Frank. Frank, this is my business partner, Cameryn.” I gesture toward Cameron. I can hear Cam muttering ‘what’ under his breath.

  It’s nice to meet you, Cameryn.” Frank extends his hand, face emotionless, and voice as cool as ice.

  Cameryn clears his throat before shaking his hand. “Hi,” he nods. “Jo, I think we should call it a night,” he lowers is voice as he dips down to me ear. I really can’t stand how he always thinks he knows better than I do on what it is I should be doing. I take care of myself. I don’t need anyone to speak for me or to order me around. I control me.

  I keep my voice pleasant, a polite smile on my face as I pull back slightly and nod. “Sure, have a good night, Cameryn.”

  “But—I…” he frowns.

  “I’m going to stay and look after Addison. You should go, being you don’t want to be around thugs and all,” sarcasm drips in my voice before laughing. “We’re fine, Cam! I’m cutting drunk-ass over here off after this drink,” I tell him.

  “Oh. All right. I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks with a hesitant smile on his face.

  “Yep.” I quickly smile at him. “Goodnight.”

  “’Night.” He nods before turning and walking away from the table. I look back and connect eyes with Alé. One thick, black brow is quirked up, a mischievous smile tilting at the edges of his mouth. Eyes that light me on fire inside. God, I need to get laid. I quickly look away to see that Addison is petting Tommy while he is whispering into her ear, and I can’t help but roll my eyes as a twinge of jealousy filters through me. Right when I’m thinking about leaving, the server comes over with a round of drinks and shots for everyone.

  “Yeah! Shots!” Addison screeches happily.

  “Yeah, just what you need,” I quip.

  “Ah, let her have a little fun, Joey,” Frank waves his hand dismissing the drunkenness. “She’s celebrating.”
He turns and winks at me before laughing. Shrugging, I laugh right along with him. Then I reach and grab my shot glass and lift it in the air.

  “Salute!” Frank says.

  “Salute!” We all follow before swallowing the amber liquid of tequila.

  *****

  I can hear my phone buzzing from not too far away. The thought of moving makes me want to throw up, internally groaning that I apparently drank too much last night. Thinking of last night, I search and search my mind for how it ended and I draw a blank. Hmm. Do I dare open my eyes? Forcing myself to peek an eye open, I see that it’s just breaking daylight. Just enough light coming through the window to allow me to see white walls, light oak furniture, and things scattered throughout. Looking down, I see a darker colored blanket covering me, and it appears to have some checked design on it. Lifting the covers up, I see that I still have my shirt on, but am naked from the waist down. Well, I said I needed to get laid, I internally smile as I focus in on all of my muscles screaming with happy pains. So apparently, it rocked. Awesome.

  Looking over, I see a head full of dark black hair and a set of tanned broad shoulders with a tattoo of a large cross with angel wings coming from behind it. I move closer to check out the detailing, but it’s not light enough yet.

  I hear my phone buzz again, and I slowly roll over to find it before it wakes up whoever it is lying next to me. I find my jeans over the side of the bed resting on the floor. Fumbling through my pockets, I find my phone, slip it out and turn the screen on. 5:03 A.M. The large envelope icon fills the screen indicating that I have unread messages. Clicking it open, I see I have four messages, all from Cameryn. Fuck that. I’m too tired and hung over to care right now. I slip my phone back into my jeans before sliding out of bed as quietly as possible. I quickly try to gather my things, but I can’t find my panties anywhere. I don’t want to turn on a light because I’d rather make a clean getaway. Fuck it. I skip the panties and throw on my jeans. Carrying my heels and clutch in my hands, I tip-toe out of the room.