Killer Queen: A Painted Faces Novel

by L.H. Cosway

  “Are you serious, you fucking nut job? What are you even playing at, coming here where I work and acting like you have a right to know anything about my life? Our whole relationship was a bloody joke. It ended years ago, and you're still acting like we were some kind of star-crossed lovers. I've told you this before, and I'll tell you again, Aaron — I never even liked you in the first place. You made my life extremely uncomfortable for a long time, and now you're trying to do it again. And. I. Am. Not. Fucking. Having. It.”

  “I need you to come back to me,” Aaron replied, completely ignoring everything she’d just said to him.

  She was at the end of her tether. “It's been almost four years. Can't you just get a clue and move on?”

  “I tried. I had a new girlfriend and everything, but she wasn't you. I broke up with her.”

  “You're being ridiculous. We're never going to happen ever again, so I suggest you join some online dating agency and keep searching for the one, because it certainly isn't me.”

  Deciding it was time to intervene, I walked the last few steps until I was standing beside Fred, my expression murderous.

  “You have thirty seconds to leave the club before I call security,” I announced, placing a hand on Fred’s shoulder.

  Aaron gave me a disgusted look and spat, “Fuck off, tranny — I'm talking to Fred.”

  “No, you're not, and if you don't do as I say, you'll have this tranny's high heel stuck up your arse in a minute.”

  The guy looked shocked for a second and then started laughing. It was weird.

  “Stay away from my arse, you fucking queer bastard.”

  “Oh, you've got nothing to worry about there. Fred's arse keeps me occupied on a nightly basis,” I shot back and pulled Fred in close to me, wanting to piss him off. Despite her distress, she chuckled quietly at my comment, and Aaron looked like he was going to vomit.

  He was staring directly at her now. “That's sick. You’re not actually with this freak, are you, Fred?”

  She seemed to lean into me as she replied. “Oh, I most certainly am. We're madly in love. You can come to the wedding if you like.”

  I grinned at how she was playing along and gave her hip a little squeeze. We were going to get rid of Aaron for good, and we were going to do it together.

  “Wedding?” Aaron asked with a narrowed gaze as he glanced between the two of us in confusion. I guessed his confusion was warranted, since I was standing there in full drag.

  “Yes, wedding,” Fred reiterated, clear and concise. “So you see, there's no chance for you and me, Aaron, because I plan on loving, honouring, and obeying this wonderful man until the day I die.”

  As he stared at her, I could see his attraction dying a quick death. Suddenly, Fred was no longer the same in his eyes. She wasn’t the girl he thought he wanted, simply because of her association with me. I was highly pleased that my presence had that effect on the bastard. Perhaps now he’d fuck off and leave Fred to live her life in peace.

  “You're both sick,” he said angrily, his complexion turning grey as he rubbed the side of his face before turning around and walking away. Well, that’s the end of that chapter, I thought to myself.

  Bringing my face closer to Fred’s, I murmured teasingly, “I'm already looking forward to the wedding night.”

  A long breath escaped her, and relief was etched into her features. “Thanks for coming and helping me with that. I'm sorry you had to interrupt your set for it.”

  Since I was in heels, I was good deal taller than she was. I had to bend so I could meet her eyes. God, she looked perfect tonight. I wanted to take her home and do bad things to her, but I couldn’t. She was still recovering from Aaron’s appearance at the nightclub. Unable to help myself, I brought a finger to her lower lip and rubbed. The things I wanted to do to that mouth were positively barbaric. I dropped my hand then, because if I didn’t I was going to kiss her senseless, and it wouldn’t end there.

  “What's a best friend good for if they can't help you fend off a crazy ex every now and again, eh?” I said, giving her an affectionate smile.

  “Very true, Viv,” she replied, pulling away from me and giving me a cheeky slap on the arse. “Now go get your pretty self back out there. You've still got another thirty minutes left in your set.”

  I stared at her for longer than was necessary, nodded, and returned to my place on the stage.

  August 5th, 2012.

  Soundtrack: “Thank You for Hearing Me” by Sinead O’Connor

  Yesterday I flew to Edinburgh with Fred. An old friend was at a loose end and asked me if I’d come perform at her venue for the Fringe Festival. I’d thought it was a good idea. For one, there was the Aaron episode, and two, there had been an incident of vandalism at the club, which had left everyone a little nervy. When you worked at a gay bar, these sorts of things were par for the course.

  Fred hadn’t realised it, but she’d needed a break, so I’d asked her to come along. It was under the guise of working as my assistant, of course, but really, I just wanted the chance to spend time with her away from all the stresses of our lives. And Edinburgh was turning out to be a happy little bubble that the two of us were quite content to dwell in.

  I felt like we were two slow-moving objects on the verge of colliding in the most wonderful way.

  Shamelessly, I’d only booked one hotel room. It was a bold move, but aside from a touch of nervousness, Fred didn’t go completely ballistic at me for it. Some women would have. Others might have dragged me straight into the luxurious king-sized bed and screwed my brains out.

  Fred was somewhere in the middle.

  Flattered, but reluctant.

  Perhaps she sensed what a train wreck I was underneath it all, and that was why she was hesitant. By contrast, I was absolutely taken in by her. She didn’t even realise how charmed I was. I think it was her singing that song to me during Phil’s seduction karaoke that sealed the deal. She held my affections now, whether she wanted them or not.

  We had just gotten back to the hotel after a day of doing promotion for my show along the Royal Mile. We were both tired and hungry, so while Fred went to take a bath, I took the liberty of calling for some room service. I went all out and ordered the most expensive items on the menu. This trip was all about seducing Fred, and no expense would be spared.

  The hotel room was more of a suite, and imagining Fred in the gigantic bathtub was giving me all sorts of naughty ideas. I could hear water swishing around as she settled in, and when I hung up the phone I sat there for a moment, edgy. I was itching to go inside, but I didn’t know how she would react. In the end, I determined to do it but to act all casual, like it was no big deal for me to be in the room while she was bathing.

  It was a brazen move, but really, Fred knew me well enough by now to know that taking a bath when I was within a ten-mile radius was simply asking for trouble. I knocked lightly on the door but didn’t wait for her to answer before I walked right in. It was a good thing she hadn’t locked it. She gasped when I entered and grabbed a towel to cover herself, even though there were enough bubbles to shield several naked bodies in that bathtub. The fact made me smirk.

  Perhaps she’d been expecting my intrusion. And maybe…just maybe, she’d been hoping for it. She didn’t breathe a word, but her eyes were glued to my every movement as I went and sat down on the edge of the tub. Pushing my luck, I reached down and ran my hand through the water, my fingers only inches from her bare, wet skin. It was a tantalising, agonising torture…for both of us, I thought, if the way she was breathing was anything to go by.

  “I ordered us both the steak,” I told her in a soft voice.

  “Sounds good,” she replied, clearing her throat.

  She wouldn’t meet my eyes, but her chest was rising and falling rapidly. The air in the room seemed to grow thicker. I soaked up the sight of her all the while. The ends of her curly hair were wet, and there was a drop of water on her cheek that I had a strong urge to lick away. Then she move
d, slowly lifting her leg and using her foot to twist the tap and allow some fresh water into the bath. It almost hurt not to touch all of that smooth, silky skin.

  My voice was scratchy when I spoke. “Let me wash your hair for you.”

  At long last, she met my eyes, all wide and hesitant. I wasn’t sure if she was going to answer at all, because the silence seemed to drag out forever.

  “Okay,” she said at last, her reply barely audible. She sat up then, holding the towel she was using to cover herself firmly to her chest. It made me smile. There was a fancy glass jug sitting by the end of the tub that I thought had been placed there solely for decoration. I picked it up nonetheless and filled it with water.

  Fred waited with her back to me, and I bit my lip at the sight of her. Water trickled down her skin, and I loved how her hips flared out from her small waist. I poured the water over her hair and then repeated the action again before starting with the shampoo. I took my time with the lather, rubbing it into her hair and attempting what I remembered of an Indian head massage. The moment she started to relax into my touch, I felt it; I also felt myself harden.

  Who was I trying to fool? I’d been sporting an erection since the moment I walked into the room. It was a good thing Fred had been avoiding looking at me, because she would have gotten an eyeful. I was almost mournful when I was done. I could have washed Fred’s hair for hours and not tired of it. And really, I wanted to wash every part of her…before I inevitably dirtied her up.

  “There. All finished,” I said, my voice strained.

  “Thanks,” she replied quietly.

  You could have cut the sexual tension with a knife, but neither one of us was going to mention it. I hovered on a precipice, not knowing whether I should leave now or give in to temptation. When she began running a wash cloth over her leg, I lost it, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her to the edge of the rub. She yelped, and I pressed my lips into her wet neck, murmuring, “Do you know how much I want to fuck you right now?”

  “Shut up,” she whispered, a harsh breath escaping her.

  “No,” I replied, then pulled the towel from her chest to reveal her prefect tits. I lost no time in palming them and teasing her nipples with soft pinches. I had to have her now. I couldn’t wait a second longer. So I stood and pulled off my top, preparing to join her in the tub. She turned to watch me undress just as there was a knock on the hotel room door.

  Jesus Christ.

  “Fucking room service would have to arrive at the worst possible moment,” I swore, deliberating over whether or not to ignore the food. I knew Fred had barely eaten all day, and I didn’t want her to be left hungry.

  I was starving, too, of course, but it wasn’t for food.

  “Go answer it,” she urged me, swallowing. I thought she might be a little relieved for the interruption.

  “Fine,” I said unhappily, and let room service in.

  The guy wheeled in the cart, and I tipped him before he promptly left.

  Then Fred emerged from the bathroom, looking entirely edible all wrapped up in the hotel bath robe. I was staring her so intensely that I think I might frightened her a little, because she startled when her eyes met mine.

  She took a step forward, headed for the food, but I blocked her. I couldn’t wait until after she’d eaten. I needed to taste her now. She yelped when I scooped her up into my arms, threw her down on the bed, and deftly pulled her sexy legs apart. I made quick work of loosening her robe and baring her lush, curvy body to me. Settling myself between her thighs, I brought my mouth to her nipple and sucked. Desperate to know what she tasted like, I began to make my way down her body, kissing and licking as I went.

  She shifted and strained beneath me, but then I looked up and gave her one dark, reprimanding look, and she stilled completely.

  When I reached her pussy, I paused and soaked in the sight. God, she was fucking beautiful to look at, and I was admiring her as though she were a work of art. She was moaning and struggling now, and I knew exactly what she needed. Glancing up at her, I gave her a dark, devilish grin before telling her, “Prettier than I even imagined.”

  She whimpered.

  I brought my tongue to her clit, giving her the softest, barest whisper of a touch. Even that had her moaning loudly. Oh, how we ached for one another. Holding back no longer, I feasted on her, and her hands went to my hair. She sank her fingers through my locks and gripped so hard that it hurt in the most delicious way.

  I paused so I could praise her. “That's it, honey. Hold on to me. You feel amazing against my tongue.”

  What? I warned you I was a talker.

  “Fuck,” she swore and I loved the guttural sound of the profanity on her lips.

  “All in good time, Freda,” I promised her before bringing my mouth back to her quivering sex. Her thighs clenched around me, and I delighted in how much she was relishing what I did to her. I’d finally gotten to make my Fred let go. And fuck, when she let go, she was absolutely beautiful. I thumbed her clit and begin to slide my tongue inside her. The sound she made in response was exhilarating.

  I wanted her to feel me everywhere, so I reached up her body and began to massage her tits, sucking hard on the little bundle of nerves I’d been worshipping with my tongue. I was looking up at her the entire time, unable to take my eyes off her. She was fucking glorious. Every sound she made fascinated me.

  And then she was coming hard and fast against my mouth. I’d never felt such sexual gratification in my life, and I hadn’t even had to get my cock out.

  “Nicholas,” she panted as she came, her hands in my hair again.

  “That's it, so sweet, Freda, so fucking sweet,” I murmured, nuzzling the inside of her thigh. She sagged back against the pillows, a big silly smile on her face that just so happened to prompt a big silly smile on my own. God, she obsessed me. I thought I heard her stomach rumble and I laughed, getting up from the bed and finally going to check out the room service.

  “I'm going to feed you now,” I told her with a grin.

  ***

  We spent the rest of the evening in bed, watching movies and exploring one another’s bodies. I hadn’t fucked her yet, because I could tell she was still uncertain of me. I wanted to express to her just how much all of this meant, that I’d never known anything like it, but funnily enough, I couldn’t think of how to say it.

  I was rarely lost for words, but on this occasion I had none. Zero. The most important things were always the hardest to articulate.

  When night came and it was time for my show, I enjoyed myself immensely, probably because I knew Fred was there, watching me. I gave her a hot, burning stare when I sat at the piano and played a saucy rendition of Tom Lehrer’s “The Masochism Tango.” The song was supposed to be funny, but I could still see her squirm with embarrassment in her seat. Fred didn’t like to be singled out, and I think every single person in the audience that night could tell I was hot for her.

  Don’t get me wrong — I knew deep down she was loving the attention. She just wasn’t like me in that sense. I’d always been a little bit of an exhibitionist. I loved having sex in public places. And once I’d broken Fred in, as it were, I planned on shagging her in every which way imaginable and in every weird and wonderful place I could think of. When I was done with her, she would be just as unselfconscious about sex as I was.

  I levelled my gaze on her and smirked as I sang about aching for the touch of her lips, but much more for the touch of her whips. I was never one for BDSM, but I enjoyed how the imagery made her look away and blush.

  When my show was over, I changed out of my stage clothes and into some jeans and a T-shirt. I caught Fred staring at my arse as we made our way to a cabaret show we’d planned on seeing at another venue starring a musical comedy act called The Polka Dot Twins. The venue turned out to be the upstairs room of a bar, which was tiny. I wasn’t complaining, though, because it meant Fred and I had to sit extra close.

  I was enjoying the show and having her
next to me. After a couple of songs, the electrics unexpectedly cut out, plunging the room into darkness. As the bar workers rushed about trying to figure out what had happened, I took advantage of the opportunity the blackout presented, sliding my arm around Fred’s waist and pulling her close. Bringing my lips to hers, I kissed her softly and ran my hand between her thighs. Her breath hitched, and I went for it, lifting her quickly and setting her on my lap. I was hard as a rock and relished how her arse pressed into my crotch. I allowed my hand to wander under her dress and between her legs, sliding quickly past the barrier of her knickers and against her softness.

  “Stop it. The lights could come back on,” she said, panting.

  “That's kind of the point,” I replied in a hard voice. I had the sudden urge to dominate her while I indulged in my penchant for public sex acts.

  “Don't,” she protested further, but I only grinned and began to move my fingers, rubbing her silky wet flesh. I thought she enjoyed the danger, too, the idea of being caught, because she came really quickly, shuddering harshly against my hand.

  “Good girl,” I told her, a note of satisfaction in my voice.

  We sat there for several minutes, enjoying the aftermath. It became apparent that the power wasn’t going to be fixed any time soon, so we decided to leave. The Polka Dot Twins invited us to go drinking with them, and Fred seemed so excited by the prospect that I agreed. What followed was a night of her getting ridiculously drunk while I watched. I thought that perhaps what was happening between us was scaring her, and that was why she felt the need to indulge.

  In the end, I managed to get her back to the hotel room in one piece, but just barely. She was incoherent, but I washed her, stripped her of her clothing, and put her to bed. It was strange, because I’d never felt the urge to care for someone like I did for Fred. While she’d been getting drunk tonight and making questionable decisions, I’d been worried.