The dancer’s rounded belly rolled in a subtle wave that brought an uncontrolled squeal from Damon. She fought the urge to haul off and smack him. Quinton started to chuckle. Frankie wanted to smack him too.
The tempo of the music sped up. Attuned to the beat, the dancer paused briefly, smiled at Gage and began to shimmy her hips in a wild blur of motion that brought cat-calls from the crowd around them. Triangular rows of tinkling coins and fringe flipped riotously through the air.
Frankie flashed Gage a surreptitious glance. His attention was riveted on the dancer. A lecherous smile brushed the corners of his mouth. Frankie’s gaze dropped to the napkin in his lap. She squinted in the darkness of the corner booth.
The napkin was tented!
Frankie jerked her head away and immediately lost her appetite.
* * * *
She was still fuming about the belly dancer incident when she found Gage alone in the laundry room later that night. Quietly, she shut the door behind them and took a heavy breath. The smell of fabric softener permeated the air. Liquid detergent and chlorine bleach tickled her nose. Having methodically sorted through all available options, she settled on the one that had the most marginal chance of success.
Everything hinged on Gage’s willingness.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” she said suddenly.
He glanced over from stuffing wet shirts into the dryer. “Deal?” His curiosity kicked into turbo drive.
Frankie cleared her throat. “Tit for tat. You take care of me and I’ll grant you something in return.”
“Take care of you?” he asked dumbly, his head halfway inside the dryer.
Her foot tapped, “I’m talking about sex without any emotional complications.”
Gage’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“What?”
“You heard me. Don’t play dumb.”
Gage blinked. Frankie took a shaky breath.
“There’s nothing wrong with your hearing,” she barked. “I won’t say it again.”
“I’m thinking,” he stalled.
“Make it quick,” she snapped. “This is a one-time offer. Take it or leave it.”
Gage stood up and hovered over her, pinning her with a heated stare.
“If I refuse, will you take your generous transaction elsewhere?”
“Absolutely,” she sneered.
That was the biggest, fattest lie she had told since she was eight years old and had blamed the family dog for breaking her mother’s favorite vase. Her body knew what it needed and there could be no substitute. It was Gage or nobody. If she pulled this one off, she should get a damned academy award!
“What do I get in return for being your whore?”
Frankie’s jaw quivered, then tensed. “What do you want?”
His voice lowered an octave and took on a calm quality. “I’ve never seen you this desperate.”
“I’m serious, not desperate,” she reassured. “I need you to take the edge off whatever this hormonal thing is that’s driving me crazy. I can’t sleep. My stomach hurts all the time. I think I’m getting an ulcer.” Frankie clenched her fists at her side. “I need your help.”
“Do I have to carry a beeper?”
There was a dark undercurrent to his voice that threatened to pull her under. Frankie shot him a scathing look. Gage threw his hands up in mock surrender.
“Sorry,” he grinned.
“What do you want from me in return?” she repeated.
Gage took a moment to consider.
“Teach me how to waltz,” he blurted.
“I don’t know how to waltz and you know it.”
“Then we’ll learn together. Parks and Recreation offers a class twice a year. I’ll sign us up for the next one.”
Frankie’s wary gaze narrowed. His eyes were gleaming.
“Is that too much to ask for being your sex slave?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Good. Then I’ll ask for one thing more.”
Frankie held her breath. She should have known that a dance class was too easy a trade. What was coming now?
He took a step forward and loomed over her. “I don’t believe in sharing. If I accept this arrangement of yours, I want exclusivity.” He pointed to his chest and then hers. “You don’t sleep with anyone but me. Understood?”
Frankie started to protest. Gage moved closer and boxed her in. “You only sleep with me,” he repeated. “Or it’s not going to happen.”
“Okay.”
“Then you have a deal,” he agreed with a grin. “When do we start?”
Her hungry gray eyes roamed his body without restraint. He was hard and powerful, a perfectly proportioned treasure trove of sexual delight. Frankie gnawed her lower lip. She had been smoldering for days. She needed him, wanted him. In a trembling voice she managed to answer, “I’m not sure I can wait much longer.”
Gage arched a triumphant dark eyebrow, reached around her and thumbed the lock on the door.
Chapter 14
ADVICE FROM THE SISTERHOOD
A steady flow of customers drifted in and out of the Pioneer Brewpub. In the background, a dozen conversations blended into white noise. Frankie sifted through the cacophony and honed in on the most bizarre. No surprise, it came from her table.
“He had what stuck where?”
Before anyone could blurt an answer, Frankie cupped her ears with both hands and tried to visualize a kinder, gentler world.
Sophia’s face contorted in a rictus of horror.
Frankie whistled to drown out the voices. By the time it was safe to remove her fingers, the girls had moved on to another sizzling topic. She topped off her margarita glass from the pitcher and gave thanks to the God of Short Attention Span.
“We’ve tried,” Claire tried to explain. “I swear that woman is coated with Teflon. Nothing ever sticks to her.”
There were nods and shouts of agreement all around.
A few of the Sisterhood complained about the latest in a string of incompetent nursing managers. From the general insults being volleyed about the table, it was a hot subject. Experienced nurses were difficult to come by and even harder to control. Managing them was like herding cats. Frankie grinned at the thought.
“We need to find an alternative for her,” Sophia encouraged.
“Like what?” Claire spat. “A fragmentation hand grenade?” She gesticulated wildly, her wrinkled cotton shirt billowing in her own tumultuous wind.
“Calm down,” Sophia soothed.
“Claire is right. That woman is a complete waste of egg and sperm,” Kristin chimed in.
Frankie wrinkled her nose. She reached over, refilled an empty glass and pressed it to Sophia’s lips.
“Is that a hint?”
“You’re falling behind,” Frankie replied. “Drink up or you’ll never hold your own in an argument with them.”
Frankie glanced up just in time to see Lauren emerge from the dim hallway to the public bathrooms. A fluttering length of toilet paper dangled off the heel of her shoe. Andie was a few steps behind, kangaroo-hopping, trying to dislodge the white streamer. Frankie smiled and held her breath, hoping that Lauren would be spared the humiliation of knowing what was going on behind her. The rest of the Sisterhood continued their discussion, oblivious.
“All humans make mistakes and all leaders are human,” Sophia patronized, ending the statement with a loud hiccup.
“That’s my point,” Claire said stubbornly. “She’s not a leader and I’m not even certain she’s human. The staff is in turmoil because of the situations she’s mishandled. In the best interests of the unit, she has a moral obligation to resign.”
“Morals?” Sophia spoke in a stern voice. “Since when has that word ever been in your vocabulary?”
Claire shot her a look that embodied every four-letter word she could think of.
“Time out!” Andie stood before the table. She put her forefingers up to form a wide X. “We need to move along to a new
topic. I’ve listened to this one for months. It’s overcooked.” She plopped down in a chair and took a deep draw from her glass. “Incompetent managers should never interfere with the Sisterhood and their drinking habits.”
“Okaaaay,” Claire drawled and popped a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Let’s talk about dicks,” Kristin blurted.
Lauren gave her an imperious glare. “Real men named Dick? Or real dicks who also happen to be men?” she asked.
Kristin smiled. “Remember the paramedic with the beautiful body and eyes to die for that I was telling you about last week?”
The other women leaned closer.
“Last weekend I finally got into his pants.” Kristin paused in her confession to take a sip.
“What took you so long?”
“Give me a break! I was off my game, recuperating from the flu.”
“Hey! I want to hear about his dick,” Sophia said loudly.
The crowded pub grew silent.
“His penis makes a forty-degree turn to the right in mid-shaft,” Kristin said and giggled. “Nature must’ve designed it for those hard to reach places.”
Lauren choked on her margarita.
“There’s a medical term for that condition,” Andie sniffed.
“Yeah, it’s called being in high demand with the ladies,” Claire burped.
“Was there anything else odd about it?” Sophia asked.
“Isn’t that enough?”
Andie drained her glass. “It’s always a good idea to take a close look at a man’s unit before proceeding,” she advised the group. “Preferably in a well-lit room. You never know what he might be hiding in the dark.”
“No, honestly,” Kristin continued, “It was so strange looking, that I lost track of what I meant to do.”
“Which was?”
“Okay,” Lauren interrupted. “I know I’m in the minority here, but I can’t take anymore penis-talk,” she shuddered.
Frankie signaled for another round of drinks. “I concur with Lauren. No more penis stories, please. Isn’t there some other body part that interests you?”
Andie squinted and pointed directly at Frankie.
“Legs.”
Frankie let out a grunt and quickly launched a diversion. “I thought you were more interested in my gritty details about Vin Diesel’s visit. After all, you spent the first hour of Margarita Monday grilling me about him.”
Andie refused to be derailed. “You’ve already made it clear that until he calls and the two of you can spend more than a few minutes riding his Harley, you don’t actually have any gritty details to discuss,” Andie said loudly. “Until that happens, let’s deal in realities.”
Frankie swallowed a lump in her throat.
Andie continued, “I have a hunch about what occurred after Max and I left your house the other evening. Are you willing to confirm or deny my suspicions?”
Frankie closed her eyes and exhaled a sigh.
“I thought so.”
“Confirm what?” Kristen shouted.
Lauren leaned over and asked, “What happened between your legs?” Red-faced, Lauren corrected herself quickly. “What I meant was, between you and Legs.”
There was a moment of absolute silence and then Claire squealed with sudden insight. “Did Legs get between your legs?”
All heads in the bar swiveled their way. On a gasp, the Sisterhood leaned forward simultaneously, hunkered over the littered table, and pinned Frankie with earnest stares.
“Come on,” Claire needled. “We’re going to find out sooner or later, Frankie.”
“Give it up, girlfriend,” Andie urged.
Sophia’s brown eyes were huge. “Please Frankie, tell us all about Legs. He’s got a dangerous look to him. Were you scared?”
Frankie looked down. Her stomach was in knots. “It was a pity-fuck,” she whispered.
Sophia didn’t get it. “You pity him, what?”
Lauren rolled her eyes and leaned over to whisper in the younger woman’s pink tipped ear. Sophia let out a gasp.
“No,” Andie shook her head.
“It’s true,” Frankie confirmed. “Not that he doesn’t care for me as a friend, of course.”
Andie gestured with open hands. “What are you saying?”
“That he was obligated to show me a good time.”
Andie was still shaking her head, flinging long tendrils of chestnut hair into Lauren’s face. “I don’t believe that. You are way off! It goes against everything I saw in his eyes.”
“A good time?” Sophia asked. “What sort of good time?”
Lauren looked at her and barked, “You really need to get out more often.”
“What do you mean? I get out all the time. I’m very athletic. I hike and ski.”
Frankie interrupted, eager to get her troubles off her chest. “A good time means that he found out I was incapable of having an orgasm and he fixed the problem.” She paused to let her words sink in.
Claire’s drink slipped out of numb fingers and crashed to the table in an explosion of white froth. The bar grew eerily quiet. Lauren, Sophia and Kristen sat paralyzed, staring at her with looks of shock and revulsion. Andie cradled her head between both hands and moaned.
Edgar scurried over to clean up the mess.
“Gage was your first orgasm?” Claire asked.
“Yes,” Frankie nodded, indifferent of who might overhear. “He was kind enough to spend the entire week with me, let me experiment and stuff. Now we have an arrangement.”
“Kind enough?” Sophia parroted. “Arrangement?”
Frankie blushed. “We made a deal to take care of one another’s sexual needs.”
Kristin’s accent was strong and slurred. “Are you telling us that Legs is now your fuck-buddy?”
“I prefer the term friends with privileges.”
“That’s terrible,” Sophia wailed.
“That’s ridiculous.” Andie shook her head wildly. “Wait a minute. Let’s find some clarity amidst this profound confusion.” She took a slurp from her glass. “Max and I were there for dinner, remember? It’s no hallucination on my part. We both saw it. Gage really cares for you.”
“Of course he cares. He’s one of my most trusted friends,” Frankie replied calmly.
Frankie looked at each woman in turn. “Really,” she stressed. “He wanted nothing more than to prove I was able to get off.” A hint of sadness tugged at the corners of her mouth. “He got his wish. I even saw spots—before I fainted.”
A chorus of, “You fainted?” arose from the Sisterhood.
“Hyperventilated first, then fainted. I was naked, with his head, uh, you know, between my…”
“Bloody hell,” Claire exclaimed.
“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” Kristin shouted and mumbled something in Gaelic.
“I’m so sorry for you,” Sophia apologized. “How horrifying.”
Frankie shrugged as she distanced herself emotionally. “Let’s just say it would have been a whole lot easier to take if it had happened to someone else.”
Lauren, always business-minded, wanted specific facts about the deal. She spoke up quickly. “You said you made a bargain with him. What terms are involved besides sex? Did you sign a contract? What happens if he defaults?”
Frankie shook her head. “He won’t. That’s not his style. Besides, he wants to learn how to waltz.”
Lauren’s bushy blonde eyebrows rose skyward. Andie rolled her eyes again and slugged down the rest of her drink. Frankie thought she heard her say “bullshit”.
“He signed us up for a class next month. We’re going to learn together.”
“Anything else?” Lauren urged.
“I’m not allowed to sleep with anybody else during the duration of our deal.”
Kristin and Claire simultaneously cursed and gave each other a knowing look. Andie clutched her stomach. “This is such utter crap I think I’m going to be sick.”
* * * *
Gage eased forward in his chair and rubbed his stubbly chin. He could barely hear her low voice above the background noise of chitchat and laughter. From the regulars at the bar who recognized both he and Frankie, Gage received a mixed review of atta-boy looks and what-the-hell-are-you-thinking? From a booth beside the glassed-in room that housed Pioneer’s stainless steel brewery vats, he glanced up to acknowledge pity on Edgar’s solemn face.
Gage shook his head in exasperation.
With the stealth of a culprit, he had slipped into the bar an hour before the scheduled Sisterhood gathering with the sole intent of spying on Frankie during their monthly drunk-fest. He hoped she might confide in her girlfriends, since he’d been left out of the information loop, and had spinelessly resorted to using covert methods. He was hearing a lot more than he ever expected. He was confused and stunned by the bargain she had struck with him. He had been trying to lay low and give Frankie the opportunity to sort things out when she blindsided him with her offer of sex. And now, listening to her ramble, he was clueless why she felt the heat between them was merely some hormonal thing.
Frankie was spilling her guts.
She’d actually convinced herself she meant nothing more to him than an occasional one-night-stand to vent the hormone overload. What the hell had he ever said to make her think that? Only Andie had the vague notion there might be more to it and at the moment she was vastly outnumbered.
How was he supposed to fix this mess?
Women! He never professed to understand more than their physical needs. He eased back in the booth, rubbed his aching head.
At least, she wasn’t as enamored of her favorite actor as he first suspected. She downplayed the entire visit. Even when the Sisterhood called her on it, accusing her of holding out on them, Frankie seemed almost indifferent.
As Gage contemplated her odd behavior, two inebriated loggers approached the Sisterhood’s table in an attempt to strike up conversation. They were quintessential ‘mean drunks’. Burly and rude, emboldened by alcohol to act on the nastiness that always lurked in the back of their minds.
Gage watched intently. Edgar never allowed his customers to be hassled, but the big man might need a hand. He was relieved when Edgar sent them on their way with a few quiet words.
Guarding the Coast Page 16
