Play Sexy For Me (Handy Mann Chronicles Book 1)

by Jimmy Pudge

  It really hurt me hearing her say all of that, especially the shit going on at home for her. It’s really fucked up when parents don’t do their jobs. My upbringing wasn’t the greatest, let me tell you, but at least I was never abused or anything like that. I do remember my fair share of ass whoopings, but most of them were deserved. Hell, I probably got away with loads more than I deserved. I guess I was lucky.

  I reached for her hand, and she let me hold it. “Damn Claire that sucks, I would never treat you like that. You are like a queen and some guy should recognize that.”

  I really didn’t know what to say, or how to say what I felt, but then I remembered she said something about a sister. “I am really sorry you and your sister had to live through that. Did your dad ever touch you guys?”

  She pulled her hand away just then. “I don’t want to talk about that, Handy. And no, it seemed that I was Daddy’s special little girl. My sister, well she was spared that attention.”

  I wanted to lighten things up and I couldn’t stop staring at her rack anyway. I felt bad, but I still wanted to get lucky. Shameful, I know. “Well screw Mal anyway. You know I would treat you like gold, though I can’t damn near afford to, but I’d never do anything to hurt you, you know?”

  She smiled and pulled her hand away, took the pitcher and refilled her mug and mine. “I don’t need expensive things, Handy, just a good man. Besides, remember when I told you about Mal, and his criminal activities? Well, when he dumped me and left me stranded in the middle of nowhere the other night, I made off with his last score.”

  Wow, I couldn’t believe it, some femme fatale was sitting here with me in Le Olde Pourhouse drinking mugs of Natural Ice and talking about her latest score. This was unbefuckinglievable “Damn, what was it, cash? Jewelry? Diamonds? We are gonna need to hide you because he’s crazy enough to do something to get that back, to get you back.”

  The food came and I dove right into the plate of nachos before it even hit the table. I grabbed a clump of chips and the melted cheese and beans almost fell on the table, but I managed to shove the whole thing into my mouth before it hit the surface. Claire laughed. It was a beautiful sound.

  For the next hour or so we sat and ate and talked and drank. It was nice and something different for me to get to know a woman that I wanted to have sex with. Like, I almost had a girlfriend. I never really thought about it much but damn, a guy could get used to this. But I’d need a second job if I had to keep paying for meals and dates and stuff. I suppose if she offered to pay I could accept it. I mean, she was going to give me some leg for sure. It seemed like a guarantee the way she was flirting and laughing at my jokes. I wish I didn’t have to get back to the Dollar Inn. Well, I wish I didn’t have to get back to work. I wanted to get back there and christen the bed with Claire in her room. I am sure that room would glow bright if some of them DNA guys came in with their blue lights after we made it in that room, probably even the ceiling would glow with our love juices. Hell, the damn room would glow like that right now. I will admit that sometimes I try to shoot for distance in an empty room, if you know what I mean. Probably got a few good ones up there too.

  At around ten o’clock, Claire seemed to be bordering on tipsy, so I figured a few more drinks and she would be exactly where I wanted her to be. But it would be easier to get laid if we were back at the motel, so I suggested we leave and she was fine with that. Hopefully, back at the shack, I could give her a few more drinks and she would slip into something more comfortable, me.

  I got out of the booth and took her by the hand. She eased out and threw her arms around me and gave me a sloppy kiss. I was so happy I actually left the tip on the table and walked outside, thinking maybe we could bone in the car too. That thought was immediately gone the second I saw the Handy mobile. While it needed a lot of work, it was trashed. I mean it was an 86 Duster, with a Gremlin side panel and who knows what kind of passenger side door, but now, fuck, it was a goner. There was a cinder block smashed through the window, and what I guess was a crowbar that was used to smash the other windows out. And if that wasn’t bad enough, all four tires were slashed to ribbons. It was clear that her ex beau had followed us and was fucking pissed off that I was with his woman, I guess he has a hard time letting go. He’s going to have a hard time letting go of my shoe once it’s up his ass. Claire looked away from the carnage, toward me.

  “Damn Handy, I’m sorry, that has Mal written all over it. I will pay you back, don’t worry.”

  “Shoot, I’m not worried. That car was being held together by duct tape and a dream anyway. We’re gonna have to find another way back to the motel though. I would suggest we walk, but it’s a few miles away and snatch face may be waiting to jump out at us.”

  “Snatch face?”

  I smiled. “Didn’t you ever notice…?” I motioned around my hairless mouth. It hit her and she laughed again.

  I thought about calling the cops and decided that could wait, but the motel couldn’t and neither could Marcia. I mean she wasn’t really doing me a favor, she would want something down the line in return and if I showed up late…damn, I would never hear the end of it and she might want me to do something ridiculous, like clean out the shitters. That is just about the nastiest job there is at the motel. So I figured the car wasn’t going anywhere and called a cab. It came fast enough and soon we were headed toward her room and me to a night of passion I would never forget.

  Back at the Dollar Inn, I tried to sneak by Marcia and run toward the elevator, practically dragging Claire behind me, but she caught my eye anyway. She pointed at her watch and gave me the nastiest stank eye I have ever seen. I smiled my award winning smile, raced to the elevator and jabbed at the button. As it opened, Claire pushed me inside and pressed me against the wall and kissed me. My damn kidneys banged against the rail but I didn’t care as her tongue did an oral exploratory of my dentature. This was going to be awesome. I was already at half-mast and it wouldn’t take but a stiff wind to have me in full saluting position. The elevator doors opened and she dragged me out. As she stuck the card in the door, I saw the light turn green and it was go time.

  We pushed into the room, and she turned on the light and slammed the ice bucket into my chest. “Get some ice, I have some wine.”

  I grabbed the bucket and nodded dumbly. I left the room and got the ice. It was the fastest I think I ever moved aside from the time I had some bad tacos, if you know what I mean. I got the ice, well most of it anyway. A lot fell to the ground as my hand was shaking. Fuck, did I have rubbers? I held the bucket under my arm and checked my pockets and wallet. Yes, I had some, a bit old, but hey how could rubbers expire right? I refilled the ice bucket because most of the cubes spilled out when I checked my pockets and sprinted back to the room.

  I knocked and she opened the door almost immediately. She had changed into something more comfortable. My jaw hit the floor. She had on this tight corset thingy that pushed her mouth-watering breasts up and out. It would have been no different than if she set them on a plate for me to sample. I buried my head in her cleavage and blew hard on her boobies, making a farting noise. As for the rest of her outfit, it was just the wispiest fabric of a lacey thong. I pulled off my shirt and kicked off my shoes, I think one of them hit the TV but it’s bolted down, so at least I didn’t bust anything. Yet, anyway. She put her hand on my chest.

  “Whoa, Handy, slow down, we have time.” She gestured toward the small table and there were two plastic cups with some sort of box wine next to it, the cups full. “I didn’t need the ice after all. I didn’t realize I had the wine in the refrigerator. I wasn’t sure it was working because it was making a weird noise most of the day.”

  Claire picked up the cups and took a sip from one of them, holding the other out to me. “The fridge must work because the wine is nice and cold.”

  I took the cup and set it down. “I’m not much of a wine person, myself.”

  She smiled and sipped her wine and kissed me. She let some of the wi
ne slip out of her mouth into mine, then forced her tongue into my mouth.

  “Man, that shit tastes like rotten grape juice, and I don’t even like grape juice when it’s fresh.” I wiped my tongue with my hand, then wiped my hand on my pants, and reached for her bra, trying to pry it down a bit and get myself a peek at her nips. She swatted my hand away.

  She turned slowly and walked away from me, making damn sure I saw her heavenly ass, two perfect globes of flesh bisected by dental floss. I wanted to bury my head in there for about a week. She sat down on the bed.

  “Now, Handy, we need to refine your palate a bit. If you want to taste this,” she spread out her fingers and waved her hand up and down her body, “you need to taste this.”

  She held up her cup of wine and drained it.

  I grabbed my cup, almost knocking it over, and gulped it down so fast some of it came through my nose. I wiped my face with my arm. She smiled at me and gave me that come hither look. I pulled my pants off so fast I almost fell over the table onto the floor, the pants leg caught on my foot, but I managed to get it off as well as my socks. My feet get cold but I had to take them off, it ain’t too classy to do a lady with socks on. Then, just before I tore off the underwear, I remembered I picked out a pair of special ones for the evening. A pair of boxers with Pinocchio’s face, and my chubby was poking right out the hole as if I was a lying fuck. I stood in my best hero pose for her, and she laughed so hard she dropped the rest of her wine.

  “Oops, I guess I am going to have to pay to clean the carpet,” she said.

  “Darlin’,” I said, “fuck the carpet.”

  “No, Handy, fuck me,” she said.

  I began tugging off my boxers, and I’d be goddamned if I didn’t snag goober along the way, probably scratched that son of a bitch pretty good too, but I was feeling no pain. Once free of all clothing, standing there as god made me, I watched as Claire made room for me on the bed. I leapt onto the empty side, careful not to hurt her or my junk, and I landed perfectly on the bed next to her.

  Then I passed out.

  Chapter 5

  There was a cruel and ruthless vampire babe chasing me. I was trying hard to run, but I’d just eaten a huge breakfast at the Waffle House and it was trying to come back up.

  I turned to look, to see how far away she was, and saw these smoldering red eyes and razor blade fangs. I couldn’t see her face, it was hidden in shadows and these two icy hands came out of the darkness and grabbed me by the neck. I tried screaming, but her long red hair brushed up against my face as her bloody mouth went for my throat.

  My eyes popped open and I was gazing at the popcorn ceiling of my motel room, freezing my ass off. I sat up in bed. Shit, this wasn’t my room. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, skirts and bras and the dresser drawers were pulled out as if someone had worked the room.

  Where was I?

  Jesus it was cold.

  I turned and saw Claire in bed beside me, peacefully oblivious to this mess. I rubbed my pounding head. What happened last night, and how did I get here with this goddess? More importantly, did I perform well?

  I took another glance around the room. Claire was a fucking slob.

  I lay beside her, tried spooning to get that body heat going, but she felt like an icicle. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and sat up, my head throbbing like someone had smacked me with a hammer. I stood up unsteadily, my legs like rubber, and meandered my way to the air conditioner. It was set at 55 degrees. I turned it up to 75, and then hobbled my way back to bed and plopped down.

  It felt as if I had the flu. I tried recalling last night, but nothing came. I remember taking her out, hoping to score. The rest was a big dark nothing.

  The mattress creaked as my weight burdened it, and I rolled over to my angel and rubbed her shoulders. “I’ll make you warm,” I whispered, kissing her gently on the neck. I ran a hand over her shoulder, my fingers slowly tracing her ivory skin to the swell of a bare breast. I cupped her nipple and felt something sticky.

  I brought my hand away.

  In the early morning light that snuck in in through the blinds the syrupy substance looked almost black. I realized what it was and jumped, instinctively wiping congealed blood on the sheets.

  “Claire?” I said, shaking the body. “Claire?”

  She did not respond and I rolled her over on her back, saw the gaping wound in her chest. It looked as if someone had buried a hatchet where they thought her heart might be.

  I started yelling, jumped from the bed and dressed, not bothering to put on my underwear or shoes, just pants and a shirt. Flung open the door and rushed outside into the cool morning. It seemed like a different world, hearing the cars swish by on the highway, seeing a maid smoking a cigarette by the Coke machine. It was almost as if what had happened to Claire had never happened at all.

  I leaned against the rail, my breath returning to normal. I needed to call the cops. I needed to report the—the murder. My hand shook as I punched 911 on the cell phone, held it to my ear.

  “There’s been a murder at the Dollar Inn,” I said as dispatch answered.

  “Wait a minute, sir,” came a woman’s voice. “Tell me what happened if you—“

  I closed the cell phone and returned it to my pocket. The information they had was good enough. I walked down the steps in a daze, stepped out into the parking lot, my shoes and socks still in Claire’s room, and walked through the office’s front door.

  Rudy, the owner, was sitting at the desk looking mad as hell. His head was shaped like a bullet and he shaved it to hide the receding hairline. I could tell he was very upset because that head was scarlet.

  “About time, ain’t it Handy?” he shouted, standing up and throwing a magazine at me.

  I dodged the flying April issue of People and came to a stop, hands held out.

  “Listen, Rudy,” I said. “There’s a dead body upstairs in room 208.”

  Rudy looked taken aback. “How do you know this?”

  I just came from 208. The occupant, the girl, Claire, she’s been murdered.”

  “The hell you say! You sonofabitch, I should fire your ass for telling such a lie.”

  “I’m serious.”

  Rudy quit speaking as he looked down at my feet. I supposed he noticed I was barefoot, which was against the Dollar Inn’s rules. NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, NO SERVICE, the sign on the front door read. Hell, that was a lie. We’d rent a motel out to a naked, bloody hooker without a second thought.

  He turned around, grabbed the key to room 208. “Come with me. Let’s see what’s wrong.”

  We walked down the hall to the elevator and got on. Billy Joel was singing about an innocent man on the ride up. We stepped out and onto the second floor, walking past the Coke machine, Rudy whistling and twirling the key on his pointer finger.

  “You don’t need that,” I said. “I didn’t lock the door.”

  “You know you’re fired if there’s no body,” Rudy said.

  “Sure,” I said.

  He opened door 208.

  The room had heated up a little, and there was now an odd smell. It wasn’t bad, but it was unusual. We stepped inside, and I watched Rudy’s face go from disbelief to shock to revulsion in a matter of seconds.

  “You found her like this?”

  “Yeah,” I said, staring at Claire’s lifeless eyes.

  Rudy bent over, made a gagging sound, thought he was going to vomit. He stood up after a moment, his face almost as white as the corpse.

  “You call the police?” Rudy asked.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “I’ve got to leave,” Rudy said, turning around and staggering out the door. I could hear him taking in gulps of fresh air.

  The shock had started wearing off for me. The closet was open. The safe in the closet was also open. Claire’s words came back from that foggy date last night that now seemed as if it had occurred years ago. She had mentioned something about taking money or jewelry; something from that snatch fac
e Mal. Did Mal do this? Did he come in while we slept, take her life and his merchandise?

  Something caught my eye under the table. I pulled the chair back, bent over and scooped up a sealed white envelope. It felt a little heavy. I stuck it in my jeans pocket, stood up and went outside where my boss was leaning over the rail dry heaving.

  “Jesus,” he said. “I’ve seen dead occupants before, but they killed themselves with pills. Never seen someone murdered before. Jesus.”

  I nodded silently and stood beside him, watching the early morning street from the second floor of the Dollar Inn. The sirens roared into life after awhile, flashing blue lights and a white cruiser followed by two brown unmarked cars.

  “Let’s head down,” I said.

  Rudy nodded, skin waxy. He looked more like a corpse than Claire did.

  We took the elevator down into the lobby and met a uniform and two plain clothes at the front desk.

  “Know anything about a homicide?” a short plain-clothes asshole asked, pulling a wallet from his coat pocket and flashing a badge. He wore a crumpled suit, the shirt underneath the tight navy coat stained. He had no necktie and looked like he lived in that suit. I was sure I’d seen him before in bars, probably sitting at the bar, closer to the drinks.

  “I’m the one who called it in,” I said.

  “Show us,” the tall plain clothes said. This guy was the opposite of his pal. He was neat, impeccably neat, a thin, well-trimmed mustache under his pointy nose. I couldn’t tell how old this fellow was. I thought maybe 30, maybe 60. Who the hell knew?