Control

by M. S. Willis

  He chuckled and then threw his arms up in surrender. “Okay, you caught me. But you keep leaning over like that and I won’t be able to concentrate on my job because I’ll be too busy fighting off the men trying to get a better look at you.”

  I looked down at my barely there cleavage and looked back up at him in question. “I’m sorry, Logan, I think your eyes must be going bad. You were looking at me like I was lunch and I’m not exactly ‘Boobs Magee’ over here.”

  Logan let out an infectious laugh and then reached over to rub me on the head. “Ah, my little ignorant siren. You have no idea how desirable you really are. Chest size doesn’t always matter. It’s how that chest fits on the frame that matters, and you my friend, are an absolute knock out.”

  I blushed and straightened up my posture. “Well thanks, Big Guy. You’re not so bad yourself.” I winked at him and Logan flashed me his gorgeous megawatt grin.

  “What can I get for you, Sugar Tits?” Another wink.

  “I’ll take whatever beer you have on special tonight.”

  “Sure thing, Sweet Tomatoes”

  “That’s enough, Logan.”

  “Okay.” He chuckled and then turned to reach into the cooler to grab me a bottle. He popped the top for me, wiped down the condensation and put it on the bar in front of me. I grabbed the bottle and took a large swig as I turned to look in the direction of the stage.

  “So, what time does the band start up?” The music had somehow gotten louder and I had to shout for Logan to hear me.

  “They should be on in the next couple of minutes or so. I’d start heading down to your prime location if I were you. This band is pretty heavy and the pit is going to get rough. In fact, you might want to choose a different location tonight. I would hate for you to get accidentally hit when they’re playing.”

  “No worries. I can handle myself. But I will let you get back to your other customers before they start jumping over the bar to get to the alcohol themselves. Take care man!”

  Logan waved and headed back to help the other patrons. I considered Logan’s warning for a split second but quickly decided that the pit couldn’t get any rougher than I’ve already seen it. The slamming bodies tended to congregate near the stage area so the back speakers were usually a safe hideaway. I walked around the tables and dance floor and took the stairs down to the pit two at a time. I walked through the people who had already started to gather in the area and noticed a couple of people sitting on top of the speakers. Shrugging my shoulders, I continued over and leaned back on the left speaker, paying careful attention to the swinging legs and feet that surrounded me. A boot to the head wasn’t my idea of a pleasant experience so I made a mental note to stand a little away from the speakers when the band started.

  I looked around at the crowd. Most of the men wore the standard uniform of jeans, black fitted t-shirts and black motorcycle boots. The others wore jeans, button up black shirts and black motorcycle boots. Variety was apparently an unknown concept around these parts. Looking down at my outfit of choice, I was pleased to see that I had received the memo about the uniform dress code. Proud of myself for finally fitting in, I started to check out the ladies.

  Damn. This is the part where I feel out of place. Almost all of the women were wearing skin tight outfits in varying short lengths with most of their breasts showing. Some of the skirts were so short that their bottoms peeked out from below the fabric. The sky high heels they wore looked horribly uncomfortable and I wondered how they maintained their balance after a few drinks. I was suddenly jealous because it became obvious that they didn’t suffer from the same balance challenges as me.

  When I was fifteen minutes into people watching, the band finally came out on stage. The sound in the club became deafening from the screams of the fans. Remembering that my head was currently sharing space with some swinging appendages, I moved far enough in front of the speakers so as to avoid any ‘shoe meeting face’ mishaps.

  “Hey everybody, how are you all doing tonight?!” The lead singer screamed into the microphone.

  I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but the club actually got louder. People started pouring down into the pit and I became a little annoyed with the close proximity of the people around me. One massive fellow decided to bypass the stairs all together and jumped over the upper level railing down to the pit. Had he been off a couple of feet in his aim, I would have needed emergency medical attention.

  The singer of the band had stepped back from his microphone long enough to allow the crowd to mellow down their frenzy. He approached the mic again and introduced the band.

  “For those of you who love us, we’re glad you are here tonight. For those of you who don’t know us, we’re Mind Crime and I hope you like what you’re about to hear.” He strummed one loud single note from his guitar and the band started in. Mind Crime’s style was exactly what I needed. While the drummer did his best to beat to death the kit in front of him, the bass player carried a low and evocative rhythm. The singer added an angry melody to the mix and within seconds was screaming an anthem of non-conformist rebellion. I honestly couldn’t understand a damn word he said, but it didn’t matter once the vibration from the speakers started to wrap around me. I bounced my head back in forth in time with the beat and closed my eyes to become absorbed in the sound. Opening my eyes, I noticed that the people in the pit had already started slamming into each other and the crowd would ebb and flow with the force of the bodies. More people started to come into the pit and the aggressive dancing only escalated with the faster tempo of the song. I started getting shoved back by a few stragglers who had been knocked out of the herd and I did my best to avoid elbows and knees. As even more people came down, I started getting forced back into the speakers.

  I remembered Logan’s warning and decided his advice may have been warranted. Inwardly kicking myself for not taking his advice, I started looking around for a means of escape. I quickly determined that I was completely boxed in and started covering my face as best I could. The flailing limbs and bodies continued to push into me and I panicked. I started overheating from the body heat that was surrounding me and I began to push back any time someone came flying at me. My efforts were pointless and the more I pushed, the more I got run into. I was getting boxed in even more and I started to wonder if I was going to make it out of there.

  Just when I was starting to give up hope, an amazing set of arms wrapped around me and I was suddenly being hoisted up onto the speaker. I was placed down and one of those arms stretched out in front of me to keep me from falling forward. I took a second to catch my breath and turned to thank whoever grabbed me. As soon as I caught sight of his clear blue eyes, my breath hitched and I was momentarily stunned silent. I continued my exploration of the person beside me and discovered a chiseled square jaw, lightly sprinkled with five o’clock shadow. His face was framed with messy dark brown hair. My gaze slowly wandered downward and found the most drool worthy broad shoulders a girl could ever ask for. His t-shirt was pulled tight over his chest and biceps and his mid-section dipped down into a perfect ‘V’. His dark blue jeans perfectly accentuated his muscular legs which hung over the edge of the speaker. I looked back up into those eyes and he smiled the most jaw dropping smile, revealing two dimples on either side of his mouth.

  He leaned over to speak closer to my ear. “Sorry to manhandle you without permission, but you looked like you could use some help down there.” His voice was a deep enough timbre that it wasn’t difficult for me to hear him over the music. I continued staring at his sculpted mouth like an idiot and then shook my head to free myself from his spell. I could feel my face getting hot from looking at him.

  “Uh, yeah, thanks for that. It normally doesn’t get that bad down there and I wasn’t expecting to get trapped.” I smiled at him and then turned my attention back to the stage. The band was starting in on their second song and the crowd calmed for a moment before picking it back up with the increasing tempo of the song.

>   He leaned over to me again. “No problem, beautiful, I’m always happy to assist a fair damsel in her time of distress.” Even though his lips were brushing over my ear, causing tremors; and his hot breath rolling down my neck was doing wonderful things for my body, I was suddenly annoyed.

  I shouted over the music at him. “Please don’t say that.”

  “What?” He looked at me and his confusion at what I had said was clearly written in his expression.

  “Don’t call me a damsel in distress. It’s degrading and I don’t appreciate being classified by use of a demeaning stereotype.” I turned my attention back to the stage for a second time and we sat watching the show without speaking. I was distinctly aware of his shoulder and thigh pressing into my side and I was disturbed by how his body heat was affecting me. His cologne weaved a trail straight over to my face and I breathed it in deeply before realizing what I was doing. After a blissful half hour of music immersion, the band finished their set and I discovered that I had started leaning into him. I also realized how thirsty I was and was thankful that I could go get something to drink. The problem with being stuck on a speaker is that it doesn’t often present the opportunity to refresh your beverage.

  The crowd below us started to disperse from the pit and he jumped down from the speaker. I scooted my butt as far to the front as I could and looked down preparing to jump. It was at that moment I remembered I hated heights and I quickly determined that I was in the middle of an unfortunate predicament.

  I looked to my right and left hoping that someone had the foresight to install a ladder on the sides of the speaker. When it became clear that I was out of luck in that department, I looked down into the eyes of my newest acquaintance. He had a smug look on his face as he watched me attempt to get down. He reached up his hands to offer assistance and chuckled.

  “From where I’m standing, ‘damsel in distress’ might be an adequate category for you. This is the second time I’ve had to come to your rescue in the last hour.”

  What the…!

  This guy was really starting to piss me off. Who the hell does he think he is anyway?! If it wasn’t for him coming to my rescue in the first place, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I slapped his hand away and scowled down at him.

  “No thanks on that rescue attempt. I can get down perfectly fine by myself. Just step back so I don’t land on top of you.”

  His eyes darkened and then quickly filled with humor. His voice lowered an octave when he replied, “Oh, the threat of you on top of me is supposed to make me move? Because I can promise you, Damsel, I’m not feeling real motivated to budge even an inch.”

  I flashed him my best menacing stare. “I’ll tell you this one more time, Do. Not. Call. Me. Damsel.” I pointed my finger in his face to drive my message home. It must have worked because he removed his outstretched hand. He stepped back from where he had been standing and held his arms out to his sides in defeat.

  That’s right mister, fear the ninja.

  I turned my body around, determined to shimmy down the side of the speaker and then drop the last foot to the ground. I got my lower body safely over the edge but my shirt caught on the corner of the speaker and I was stuck there with my ass in perfect view of Mr. Arrogant standing behind me.

  “This is a delightful view. I almost wish I had a camera. Are you sure I can’t help?”

  My air huffed out from annoyance before I freed my shirt and started shimmying over. I finally dropped to the floor and looked over my shoulder to find my acquaintance openly staring at my assets. His eyes wove a slow path up my body and stopped suddenly on the dragonfly necklace tattoo on my shoulder. His eyes widened and he looked up to my face, grabbed my shoulders and spun me around to face him.

  “What is your name?!”

  I was shocked by his sudden intensity and I couldn’t process what he had just asked me. I stared into his eyes but didn’t say a word. He continued to hold me by the shoulders and was searching my face and body as if trying to memorize me. He looked back up at me and slightly shook me out of frustration.

  “Your name. What is it?”

  I shook away my stupor once again and jerked my shoulders out of his grasp. I took a step back and looked up at him in challenge. “Now why the hell would I want to tell YOU my name?! Thanks for the earlier assistance but you can forget that you know me now.” I turned to walk away and he called out to me again.

  “That’s fine if you don’t want to tell me your name. I’ll take your refusal as a clear indication that you wish for me to continue calling you Damsel.”

  My jaw dropped and I turned back around. “If you really think I’m dumb enough to fall for that crappy manipulation tactic, then I should be upfront and honest with you now. You are clearly confused about the type of woman that I am. I am not the type that needs rescuing and I am not the type that swoons over a beautiful face and a deep rumbly voice...” He grinned at that and I quickly realized my error. Refusing to acknowledge that I just called him beautiful, I continued, “…and it is pathetic for any person, male or female, to refuse information about themselves in order to continue some type of crappy pet name.”

  Those dimples of his popped out and his eyes smiled right along with his mouth. “I’ll make a pact with you; you tell me your name, and I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the night.”

  I considered his offer. If he was telling the truth I could end this aggravating encounter now just by giving him my name. On the other hand, if he was lying, than at least he might stop calling me Damsel. There really was no down side to this situation. I decided to play hard ball anyway.

  “I’m not enough of an imbecile to believe that you mean that. How do I know you will stick to that agreement?”

  He looked at me with a matter of fact expression and seemed to be considering my question. After a moment of intense introspection he formulated his response. “You don’t.”

  Well, there you have it.

  Defeatedly, I muttered, “Paige. My name is Paige.”

  I turned around and started climbing the stairs to leave the pit. When I reached the top floor and turned to look back over my shoulder, he stood in the same position I left him with an unreadable expression on his face. He continued to openly stare at me and I returned my attention to the bar and proceeded to make my way over to it.

  The club was crowded tonight so it took Logan another five minutes before he could get over to me. So much for my VIP status. When he finally did approach, I asked him to grab me a bottled water. I pulled some cash out of my back pocket and threw enough down on the bar to cover the water and the beer from earlier. Logan made his was back over to me with the water and leaned over the bar to talk to me without having to yell over the music.

  “How’d it go down there?”

  I leaned my head in his direction and he turned his ear toward me to hear me better. “It was rough. I should have listened to you. I ended up getting ‘rescued’ by some chauvinist prick who grabbed me and had to haul me up onto the speakers.”

  Logan looked concerned and did a quick once over of my body to make sure that I hadn’t been injured. Once he verified that I was still in one piece, he asked, “Who is this guy and why did you refer to him as a chauvinist prick?” His eyes widened as if in understanding and he quickly asked “Did he touch you inappropriately? Show me which guy and I’ll make sure security escorts him out!”

  I shook my head. “No. It was nothing like that. He thought because he had helped me out that it gave him the right to call me a ‘damsel in distress’.” I turned to look over the crowd to see if I could locate him. I spotted him talking to the female bartender on the opposite side of the room. I pointed over to him to indicate who I was talking about. Logan looked over, paused, and then looked back to me.

  “Are you talking about Daemon?”

  I shrugged my shoulders as I had no idea what the guy’s name was. I never bothered to ask. “Maybe? I don’t know. I never asked him for his name. But if you are
talking about the good looking asshat that is standing over there talking to the female bartender, then yes.”

  Logan nodded his head in understanding and leaned even farther over the bar to whisper loudly into my ear. “Yeah. That’s Daemon. He works here as a bouncer. He is one hell of a lady’s man so it would be best for you to avoid him. I would hate to see you end up as another notch on his bedpost. If I were you, Paige, I would just call it a night and head home to your boyfriend.”

  I let out a small laugh and then shook my head. “No worries, Logan. I’m wearing my big girl panties tonight and I think I can handle myself, but thanks again.” Logan’s jaw dropped and he got a funny look in his eye. I looked over at him in question and tilted my head as if silently asking what was on his mind. Logan smiled and leaned over to pinch my cheek.

  “You keep talking about your panties like that and you might have to start watching out for me as well.”

  I laughed at his candor and walked away from the bar.

  I made my way over to a table and sat down to enjoy my water. The cool refreshing liquid on my tongue was absolute heaven. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was until my mouth was flooded. My people watching continued as I slowly drank down the bottle.

  I learned a long time ago that an excellent lesson in human behavior can be learned by being sober in a bar between the hours of midnight and 2:00 a.m. After a few drinks, people who would normally be self-conscious and conduct themselves with at least a small amount of decorum and self-control would lose themselves in an alcohol fueled annihilation of their inhibitions. It was impressive to see how quickly civilized individuals could start operating on a basic animal instinct.

  Couples were dancing and grinding into each other in such a way that I blushed just glancing in their direction. Several sloppy women were so wasted, they didn’t seem to notice or care that their clothes were slipping out of place or that they were spilling their drinks down the fronts of their shirts.

  Continuing to swallow down my water, I chuckled to myself while watching the crowd. I scanned my eyes back and forth over the mass of people when my eyes met with Daemon’s over the crowd. My body shuddered from the fervor in his stare. He stood to my left with his arms crossed in front of him which only caused his biceps to bulge out more noticeably from beneath his sleeves. Just the sight of him was causing my traitorous body to respond with an increased heart rate and my skin to break out in goose bumps.