by Cee Perkins
“Will the lady be in the round?” the dealer asked.
Mom turned and tossed a chip, and the dealer dealt her in. “I’m ok, Danny. I’m just going to finish this hand and head out,” she said, as she placed her bet.
“I’ll wait for you, and we can have dinner?” I asked, a bit skeptical.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that! I was just going to head home and have a quiet evening.”
“I offered. I’d like to have dinner with you,” I answered, keeping my place next to her and trying to contain my irritation. “Mom,” I said when she didn’t answer.
“Huh?” Mom uttered absently to me, looking as though she’d forgotten I was there, then sighed. “Ok, I’d like that.” without sparing me a glance.
I knew she would rather sit there all night, until the dealer made her leave, or her chips ran out. It really did look like she was on a streak though, with her pile of chips. I wondered where she got her starting amount and how much it was…but that wasn’t for me to question, I suppose.
“Dealer has twenty.” Three players folded, mom lay down her one card. “Pot goes to the lady with twenty-one.”
“Mom? Ready to go?” I broke in before the dealer started another round.
Mom startled, then looked at me before she collected her chips and rose from the table. “Oh, sure, sure,” she said.
We started walking toward the exit. “I’m just going to cash some of these in. Dinner’s on me tonight,” she said, with what I would call an addict’s gleam in her eye.
I could only offer a weak smile and a nod.
Chapter 7
Corra
“Well, that went well,” I said, rolling my eyes at Cay.
“I told you, he’s as tight as a nun’s pussy. Ryan said he’s been trying to encourage him to go to counseling, but I don’t know if he’s gotten there.”
Ryan agreed, “I’d hoped he would have talked to me about it before now, but he hasn’t. He, uh, doesn’t open up very well.”
“Well, I wish he would. He seems like such a stick in the mud. I could really help him loosen up, if he’d, you know, look at my boobs.”
Ryan and Cay both laughed. “You know, they make anal douches so that his stick doesn’t stay in your mud,” Cay said.
I made a face. “Ew. That’s a visual I didn’t need.”
“Just buy an anal douche, and no more visual,” Ryan added.
“You’re an anal douche.”
Cay rolled her eyes. “You need new jokes. I saw that coming from the second I brought up anal douches.”
“I think you just like saying anal douche. Where are we going?” I asked since they started walking toward the exit.
“I have a shift tonight,” Ryan answered.
“And I need to meet him in the evidence room.”
That brought me up short. “What are you doing in the evidence room?”
They both looked at me like I was missing a few screws.
“Ticking boxes off our bucket list,” Ryan answered slyly.
“Well, at least you have relationship goals.”
*****
With Cay being stuffed in the local police station’s evidence room, I was a bit bored. I hadn’t talked to Salty in a while or really, any of my siblings. I also needed to check in on Ashley and a couple of other new girls. But, I really wanted to find a way into Dan the Stickman’s pants.
Yes, let’s do that.
Getting into Dan’s pants was going to be a challenge. I love finding challenges and conquering them, especially if they resulted in orgasms.
Dan, Dan, Dan. Dan, the man. How did I get him to drop those oh-so-creased slacks? Think, think, think…I stopped thinking when I realized I looked like Winnie the Pooh— tapping on my head, crease in my brow…hell, I was even wearing a red shirt. I’ve never had to think about how to get into a guy’s pants. I just sort of did.
Pacing my living room, I went through what I knew about Dan. Ryan, Ryan’s my in…I could have him set us up. I just needed an excuse for us to be in the same vicinity.
My giddiness knew no bounds as I thought of the possibilities of debauching Dan the Stickman. I bounced over to my cell, dialing Cay and getting voice mail. Sigh. She was busy contaminating evidence. I guessed I’d just have to wait ‘til morning. I’d never been a patient person, and I had all this stupid tension.
The shrill ring of my phone brought me back to real life and I cracked my neck, stretching as I reached for the phone. “Hello?”
“What’s tomorrow, bitch?!” Salty’s cheerful voice came over the line.
“Remind me to dick punch you, douche. Tomorrow is my anniversary!”
“Yeah, it fucking is! So where are we celebrating?”
Truthfully, I hadn’t thought about it. Normally, I celebrated the anniversary of my first official paid hit by going out and getting trashed with Salty, Cay, and Sarah.
But.
“Let’s do something different this year. I wanna throw a party here,” I said as the idea occurred to me.
“You’re going to invite people into your house, let them get wasted, dance on your furniture, and ruin your very expensive condo?”
“Hey, my friends are classy bitches and douches. They won’t spill and they’ll take their shoes off before climbing on my table,” I answered back.
Salty’s laugh echoed loudly through the phone. “Uh-huh, sure,” he wheezed, “Cay trashes your place when she’s there for less than ten minutes.”
Rolling my eyes, I huffed. “Well, she’s going to be pretending to be a good person to impress Ryan the Police Man. She’ll only walk around in her bra if he leaves.”
“And what has you wanting to invite this disaster into your house instead of going out?” he asked, still chuckling.
“No reason, I just feel like something different. So are you coming, or what?”
“That’s a real question? First, I wouldn’t miss your anniversary for anything. Second, I can’t wait to see who causes the first damage and how long takes to happen. So, is this like a dinner party or a house party?”
Hm…intimate would be less scary for Dan the Stick Man. But a bunch of people might cause him to retreat…into a quiet room… Alone…maybe drinking. Hm...
“A house party. Especially, if you want damage. The more the merrier. Hell, bring your harem. Why the fuck not?” I answered, getting excited.
“This is going to be fun. See you tomorrow,” Salty said.
“Yup, tomorrow!” I said, and ended the call.
Shit, I was having a party. Time to get down, bitches.
****
“I need you to convince Ryan to convince Dan to come to my Hit Bash tomorrow,” I said to Cay as I cleaned my AK, once she’d finally returned my call that night.
“First, what the fuck is a hit bash? And second, convincing Dan to do anything that isn’t ironing or sitting in a straight wing-back chair is going to require you to pay up alotta booze. Ryan likes Macallan,” she answered back.
“Instead of going out to celebrate my hit-iversary, I want to throw a party. Naturally, I’m not going to tell anyone the reason for the party. Any particular year?”
Cay chuckled. “Why are you trying so hard with Dan? He comes with loads upon loads of baggage, and it’s not Louis Vuitton luggage. This is the cheap, Wal-Mart section sort of baggage.”
Rolling my eyes, I huffed. “He’s a challenge. And I really want to see if he’s a boxers or briefs kind of guy.”
“Briefs. Has to be. There’s no way a boxers guy can be that tightly wound. So you’re, what, gonna bag him and release him back into the wild? Somehow, I don’t think that’s how Dan rolls.”
“That’s why I want him to come to the party. I can get him wasted, take advantage, and he’ll be so embarrassed afterward that I won’t have any guilt about not trying to be his girlfriend because he’ll be running out like his ass is on fire.”
“His ass won’t actually be on fire afterward, will it? I know how bu
sy you can be and let’s face it, you’re not discriminatory,” Cay said.
“You’re lucky you’re not here right now. I’d slap that smug smile right the fuck off your face. I always make sure to wrap shit up,” I answered angrily. “What the fuck, Cay?”
“I’m just saying, jeez. You don’t have to get all defensive,” she said innocently.
“You’re saying I’m diseased, you hood rat.”
“Don’t call me names, Herpes Holly.”
“Fuck you, Clap Trap.”
“No thanks, I just got tested and Ryan’s dick is too awesome to cover back up again,” she answered cheekily.
“Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you today?” I asked.
“I don’t fucking know! I just left the station and I’m pissed I only got two rounds out of him.”
“Don’t take that shit out on me! I’m not the one who cut you off,” I said, rolling my eyes.
Cay sighed heavily. “I’m adick-ted. I go through withdrawals when I don’t get all night with him.”
“Well, take your withdrawals and shove them up your ass because I’m not listening to your shit. I got things to do.”
“All right, I’ll get Ryan to get him there somehow. Tomorrow night?” she asked.
“Yes. Fucking thank you. Christ.”
“Love you, bitch.”
“Love you too, Clap Trap,” I said, then end the call. Damn, see, that is why I didn’t discriminate dicks. I didn’t want to have to go through withdrawals. Then again, it had been almost a week since my last dicking, so maybe I was going through withdrawals anyway.
Dan
Why did I agree to this? I asked myself for the fifty-third time, standing in front of the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom closet door and staring at my reflection in pressed jeans and a t-shirt. A dang t-shirt. When Ryan said casual, I was fully prepared to wear my normal clothes and leave the tie, but when I answered the door, Cay had tried unsuccessfully to hide her laugh. So while they stood out in my living room waiting for me, I was in my room trying to pretend I wore jeans and t-shirts like this every day. In all actuality, I had two pairs of jeans, and the t-shirts I normally used for sleeping.
A knock on the bedroom door startled me. As I turned, Ryan opened the door and walked in, closing the door behind him.
“I thought we were leaving?” I asked, confused about the closed door. I’d never closed that door with another person in my room.
“We are, I just wanted to talk for a minute without Cay staring at you,” he said uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I know this isn’t really your scene. We don’t have to stay long. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
Shifting on my feet, I answered, “I know. Dr. Amato is encouraging me to step out of my routine…I guess exposure therapy is his method of choice.”
Ryan stared at me for a minute, then said, “I don’t really know what to say to you…but I’m glad you’re coming with us.”
“I am too, I think.” I took a deep breath, then asked, “Do you think Corra is interested in me?”
That was never something I’d thought about. I’d never had a girlfriend or a crush for that matter. Never wanted to upset my routine, never wanted to risk getting that sticky feeling under my fingernails I always imagined would be there if I ever did engage in sex with someone.
But for some reason, I figured, since I’m already trying to change things up, maybe it’s time I tried actual sex. Maybe.
But Ryan’s face was making me second guess that. I didn’t know jaws could fall that far or eyebrows could go that high or eyes could be that big. “Corra? As in, blond, tall, borderline maniacal Corra?”
Borderline maniacal? Gulping, I answered, “Yeah. Isn’t that who’s place we’re going to tonight?”
Why was he staring at me like that? After another moment, he shook himself and answered, “Yeah, that’s where we’re going. I just don’t know if Corra is the girl to um…experiment with. She’s…sort of a slut.”
“You’re dating her best friend,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but…” he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck again, “There are so many differences between her and Cay and you and I that I just…I don’t know, I worry she’ll like try to put her thumb in your ass and turn you into an actual monk.”
If this were a sitcom, I’d probably have chuckled at this interaction. Alas, this was real life. My real life. “Is there like an international sign or something to let her know I’m not ok with that?
“How is this a real conversation?” he asked, more to himself than me. “We really don’t have time to get into all the things sex can involve, but thumbs and penises are used. Sometimes at the same time.”
“She’d really stick her thumb…there?” I asked.
“Knowing Corra, that’d be the least offensive thing she’d stick in there. Let’s go, bud,” he said, tapping my shoulder and heading to the door.
I followed him, my head swirling with new knowledge and curiosity about…everything. I was a twenty-nine-year-old man, and I knew absolutely nothing about sex.
“Wow, what did you do to him?” Cay asked, as we entered the living room, regarding me with open curiosity.
“There was a question about thumbs and asses…it’s a long explanation,” Ryan answered.
“O...kaaaay…” She said, still gazing at me. “I’m just going to have to let that go. C’mon, let’s get there before all the Grey Goose is gone.” She flounced out the door and into the hallway down the front steps.
Locking the door, I turned and followed them, visions of thumbs and imaginary vaginas and insertion dancing in my head. This is new, I thought to myself.
Chapter 8
Corra
Salty brought friends, alright. Not just chicks, either. There were some nice hunks of meat there. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to hit on them. I had one goal. I just hoped he showed.
I turned from the crowd in the living room— damn Salty had right about the furniture. But it was his friends destroying my leather couch, not mine. My classy as fuck friends were in the kitchen around the wine bar with…fucking Mad Dog 40s. Heh.
“Happy hit-aversary, baby,” Colin, one of the few in my inner circle said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“Shh…” I said, glancing around. “Some of these people don’t know what they’re celebrating. There’s even going to be a deputy here later.”
“Oooohh, strippers?” Ashley asked, a little too excitedly.
“Um, no. A real one, so let’s steer clear of him, mk? He’s Cay’s date and she’s trying to impress him.”
Her eyes widened. “Well, that’s my cue to get the fuck gone,” she said, then hauled ass out of the kitchen and through the front door.
Well, she’d just made my life easier. I had a little buzz going and Colin helped add to it when he handed me a glass of trash’s finest. I downed the drink then wiped my mouth off with the back of my hand. “Damn, that’s good,” I said, then gestured to the untouched food on the counter. “Enjoy, bitches.”
Another guest thanked me and turned toward the food as if she were waiting for permission.
I was dancing on the coffee table when the door opened and in walked my best friend followed by my newest distraction. He looked good enough to lick in that t-shirt and those crisp jeans…
Seriously, the man ironed his jeans? What kind of twilight zone did he live in?
Oh, well, I’d just have to help him wrinkle them.
I made my way over to them with a bright grin. “Heya pals,” I said, hugging Cay and saluting Ryan. I turned to Dan and gave him a once-over, hopefully showing him I was interested. I didn’t know what he knew or what hints he could pick up on.
The sweet blush on his cheeks showed that he knew I was looking him over. Good. I want to see all of him. Even if not then, soon. “How about a drink?”
Cay grinned widely and asked, “Whatcha got that’s scotchy?”
I turned to
Cay and narrowed my eyes. “What did you ask for? I’m not your server, go look.”
With a snort, Cay grabbed Ryan’s arm and dragged him toward the kitchen. “You heard the woman, go look.”
I looked back at Dan and saw his eyes darting around the crowded room. “I doubt you’ll know anyone but Ryan,” I told him.
He finally looked at me— well, my chin— and said, “That’s ok, I’ll just…hang out here.”
As I grabbed his hand and lead him toward the kitchen, I told him, “No no, let’s mingle. How about a drink?”
“I, uh, don’t really drink,” he said, his gaze falling again.
“That’s cool, I have soda too. Aaaannnnd…pineapple juice.”
“Coke is fine,” he said to the floor.
I poured his drink and handed it to him with a big smile. “Nice and cold.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Hey, do you want to dance? Despite the people on the coffee table, the floor is actually a pretty good place to…” He was shaking his head at the floor, so I trailed off. Was he really this shy?
“Um, no thanks, I’m more of an observer. I’m not all that coordinated.”
“Oh, well, that’s-”
“Hey Corra!” my brother yelled across the room. I gave Dan a quick smile, which he didn’t see because he was staring so hard at the floor.
“Sorry, I should—”
“Oh, yeah, sure. It’s your celebration, after all,” he said, and I could see the red in his cheeks. I wondered again how far down that went.