by Chelle Bliss
Going from bachelor living to being married had been an adjustment, but one I’d actually enjoyed. I’d spent most of my life single and bed-hopping that it was nice to finally settle down and live like the other half did.
“The ol’ ball and chain let you out to play?” Tank asked with a chuckle as I sat down and grabbed a beer from the middle of the table.
“I wanted to stay home with my wife and enjoy my birthday, but she insisted I come spend the night with you miserable bastards.”
“Smart lady,” Ret said and slapped me on the shoulder.
Ret had fit in better than I ever could’ve imagined. He’d only been at ALFA PI for a short time, but I almost couldn’t remember a time without him.
“Where’s Morgan?” I asked.
Everyone looked at each other, waiting for someone to respond, but no one said anything.
“Is he okay?” They were acting weirder than usual. None of them were “normal,” but usually they answered simple questions.
“Yeah, he’s fine. He’ll be here in a few. He’s just handling a few things,” Tank said, but he didn’t put my mind at ease.
After being friends for as many years as we had, it was easy to read him, and there was definitely something he wasn’t saying.
“Haven’t seen you much lately. My aunt keepin’ you busy?” City asked.
“She has been dragging me to some classes and shit,” I muttered, trying to make it seem like I was still the same miserable, brooding bastard.
“Basket weaving?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked.
“That isn’t Franny’s style.” I laughed, turning the beer bottle in my hand.
Mike leaned forward with a serious look on his face. “You can’t just drop that knowledge in our laps and not tell us what you’re learning, old man.”
“Well…” I shrugged. Fran would absolutely murder me if I told them the truth.
“Just drop the shit,” City said, narrowing his eyes. “You’re learning to knit. Just admit it.”
“Fucker. It’s a dance class,” I lied. It was a white lie. There was dance, but it involved a pole and very little clothing.
She’d seen an ad online about staying fit and learning new moves, and she’d begged me to go with her. Never in my life did I think I would go to a stripper-pole dance class. It sounded like bullshit. But I didn’t expect there to be benefits like a sex-charged wife by the time the sessions were over.
Tank laughed first, and then the others followed suit. “I can’t fucking believe it. We have Fred Astaire sitting at our table.” Tank shook his head in disappointment. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d be a twinkle toes.”
“It ain’t that kind of class, dumbass.”
“Oh?” he asked, challenging me to answer.
“What kind of class is it, Uncle?” City asked. It was his new way to annoy me. Technically, I was his uncle, but he used every opportunity to remind me just how much older I was than him.
“I can’t say.” I bit down on my tongue and imagined Franny’s face if I spilled the beans.
“I know,” Anthony teased with a sinister smile that I wanted to smack right off his face.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growled.
“Auntie Fran tells Mom everything.” Anthony stuck out his tongue and gagged. “Trust me, I know too much.”
Thomas looked from Anthony to me with a scowl and threw up his hands. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“Now I gotta know. Spill the beans, kid,” Tank said to Anthony, rubbing his hands together and peering at me out of the corner of his eye.
“Assholes,” I grumbled before taking a swig of my beer.
Anthony put his hands up and laughed, tipping back in his chair. The cocky little fucker. “All I’m going to say is that there’s a pole involved.”
One by one, each set of eyes looked over at me with their mouths hanging open. I shrugged. “I can’t help if I have a girl who likes to mix shit up.”
City started to rub his face and groaned. “I shouldn’t know this shit about my aunt, man.”
“You asked, he told.” I smirked.
Mike sat there, still looking a little green around the gills. Thomas laughed his ass off and grabbed another beer like we weren’t talking about his aunt.
“Fran’s a wild woman,” Ret said and shook his head. “She’s perfect for you.” He nudged me with his elbow.
“Best woman I’ve ever known besides your mom.” I gave him a bittersweet smile. He nodded, knowing exactly how I felt. “I’m having one more drink, and then I’m outta here.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” James, the bossiest SOB in the group, said. “We have plans tonight.”
“Plans?”
“Yep. So sit your ass there and drink your beer. Fran isn’t expecting you until we’re done with you.”
My entire body rocked backward, taking the chair with me. “Done with me?” These “friends” who sat around the table definitely had something up their sleeves, and they weren’t sharing.
“It’s your birthday, you old fucker.” Tank looked at me like I had three heads.
“Fran doesn’t want me out all night.” I was making excuses, but it didn’t matter. I wanted to be home with my sweetheart. I’d spent too many years in bars and going home to an empty house to want to spend my birthday the same exact way.
“Mom’s meeting us at the next stop,” Morgan said, walking up from behind me and placing his hands on my shoulders. “So stop the bullshit. Drink your beer and enjoy your seventieth birthday.”
“Fifty-second,” I corrected him.
“Still old as fuck,” Morgan teased before he took a seat across the table. “Everything’s in place.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“Just shut up,” Tank sneered. “Always gotta ruin everything.”
I crossed my arms in front of me and scowled. “Fine, but I don’t gotta like it.”
My phone beeped with a text.
Fran: Stop being a pain and follow the program.
I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face as I typed back.
Me: Fine, but only because I love that fine ass.
“Where are we headed for my extra special celebration?”
“The Pink Panther.” Tank smiled.
“Eh, I’ve seen enough tits and ass in strip clubs to last a lifetime.” I slammed back the rest of my beer and grabbed another because if I was going to the titty bar for the night, I sure as fuck needed to be drunk.
“So, Ret, how are you settling in at ALFA?” City asked, ignoring my unhappiness about the itinerary for the evening.
“Fucking great, man.” Ret leaned forward and gripped the beer bottle in both hands. “Never worked any place where I actually liked the people.”
“Smart thing to say since everyone is here.”
“Not Sam. Where is that prick anyway?” I asked.
“He’s getting something important,” City replied and exhaled in annoyance.
“Getting something?”
City nodded. “Stop trying to find a way out of it, Bear. Your ass is ours tonight.” He turned back to Ret. “What case are you working on now?”
When there weren’t any active PI cases for Ret, he was given free rein to track down wanted criminals. He was a bounty hunter, after all, and the rewards brought in big cash for ALFA. Since he used their resources, he split the money with the company, but he kept the bulk of it.
“Tracking this asshole on the FBI Most Wanted list. He killed his family and took off about fifteen years ago. I’m going to find him and put him exactly where he belongs.”
Anthony finally put his phone down to join the conversation. “How much does something like that pay?”
“Hundred grand.”
Anthony’s eyes lit up. “Fuck, I need to change professions.”
“It’s risky as fuck, man,” Ret told him. “It isn’t something you can do without accepting the possibility that they will kill you to keep their fre
“Eh, I don’t have to worry about that at the shop.”
“Smart man, Anth.” Mike elbowed him. “Plus, where else can you work where you see tits and ass all day besides a strip club?”
“Dude.” Anthony winced. “Some of those tits and ass should never see the light of day, let alone be exposed in front of me.”
“You’re a real tool,” City told him before turning to Ret. “You don’t go after guys like that alone, do you?”
“Sometimes. But he’s going to be a pain in the ass, so I’ll probably rope someone at ALFA to go with me once I get a lock on his location.”
“I’ll go,” I offered because I took every opportunity I could get to spend more time with my son.
He glanced over at me and nodded slowly. “I’d have you at my back anytime, Dad.”
Man. It never got old hearing him call me Dad. No sweeter word in the English language. Every day, I felt less guilty about my past and the way I’d left my kids. They seemed to accept me and forgive me for what I’d done, but it’d taken me longer to forgive myself.
“One more round and we’re outta here. Sam’s on his way,” Thomas said.
“Fucking great,” I muttered to myself.
* * *
“Thanks for being the designated driver tonight,” James told Sam as we climbed off the party bus.
“Eh, with Fi being pregnant, I try not to drink. She gets jealous that she can’t have one.”
“You’re smarter than you look.” I laughed.
“You’re still an asshole,” he replied with a smirk.
The kid had grown on me. Who the fuck knew? I hated him when I first met him. Thought he was a weasel, but he’s not. He’s a stand-up guy and has had our backs more times than I could count.
“Happy birthday, old bastard.” He smiled.
I straightened my back and rubbed my chest. “You only wish you could look this good at my age.”
As I started to walk away, he said, “Too bad you won’t be around to see that I look better when I’m as old as you.”
I turned quickly, narrowing my eyes. “I’ll still be here, fucker. Heaven won’t take me, and the Devil’s too scared to have me down there. I’d take that shit over.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I forgot. You’re a badass.”
I socked him in the shoulder with my knuckles. “Keep it up, and you’ll be there before me.”
“You two done with your bullshit?” James asked, holding open the door to the Pink Panther.
We both started to laugh, and I grabbed Sam around the neck, locking him under my arm. “We’re coming!” I yelled back and then started to mess up Sam’s hair. “Even though you’re a dick, I still love you.”
He punched my ribs, trying to break free. “Not the hair, man.” He grunted, pushing against my ribs.
I released him and laughed when he frantically tried to fix his hair that looked like a bird’s nest on top of his head. “You’re still like a chick.”
“You’re lucky it’s your birthday.”
“Fuck off.”
“We’re late. Get your asses inside and shut up,” City said and shoved me in the back.
We had just been here for my bachelor party, and some things were meant never to be discussed again. Explaining to Fran why I had bite marks on my chest the next day wasn’t a pleasant conversation, but she eventually forgave me. She mumbled something about her son and nephews being with me so it couldn’t have been as bad as she had imagined. I wasn’t saying shit because my big mouth would just get me in more trouble.
“Ah, the smell of pussy and desperation,” I said when the door closed behind us. “Nothing like it.”
“It’s a smell you know well,” Mike laughed, holding his stomach and thinking he was the funniest fucker ever.
“I do,” I admitted.
James walked ahead of the group, motioning for us to follow. “Let’s get a table up front.”
“Bossy bastard,” I mumbled.
The Pink Panther was one of the seediest strip clubs in the area, but it was centrally located between our houses. Keeping with the name, the lights shining on the stage were pink, casting a hue that made each of the dancers appear to be sunburned.
Epic fail.
Instead of licensing the logo for the Pink Panther, Crater, the owner of the joint, created his own version with a cracked-out pink cat and stuck it on the wall. Whoever was his designer for the logo should be shot.
“I hate this place,” I groaned as I sat on a weirdly sticky stadium chair in the front row between Ret and City.
“I’ve been in worse,” City said and eased back in the chair.
The speakers squealed, and I covered my ears. “Next up, we have the divinely delicious Cupcake. Are you ready to sink your teeth into her, gentlemen?”
Hoots and hollers could be heard from the back of the room as the music started to play and the lights lowered. First, a leg appeared, lit up by a spotlight, before the rest of “Cupcake” emerged, covered in a faux fur coat and high heels. I could barely look at her—she was so young, I wondered if she was even really legal.
Ever since spending more time with my daughter, I couldn’t look at younger women the same way. They no longer did anything for me. Janice fucked that shit up.
Ret leaned over. “Cupcake lookin’ a little young, or is it me?”
“Yup. Just thinking the same thing.”
“Either I’m getting old, or she’s way underage.”
Cupcake showed a shoulder first, shimmying up and down the pole in rhythm with the music. I squirmed in my seat because the entire thing made me uncomfortable. I could almost be her grandfather, and it creeped me out.
“Lap dance?”
I looked up to see Carly, the same girl who gave me all those pretty chest decorations at my bachelor party.
“No thanks.” I waved my hands.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hands and pulling me forward. “It’s already been paid for.” She grinned. “I promise I won’t bite you this time.”
“I’ll pass.” I didn’t feel like going home to a pissed off wife. She’d told me to go out, not come home smelling of pussy and covered in more shit that I didn’t want to explain.
“Go, dumbass,” City said and pushed my shoulder. “Trust me, you want to go.”
I gave him the stink eye. Why would my supposed best friend push me to go with Carly? It didn’t make sense.
“Come on, Dad. Man up.” Ret challenged me and joined City’s side.
Carly yanked on my hand again. “I have something special planned for you.”
“Oh, goodie.”
“Pussy,” City coughed.
“Fine,” I said and finally stood up to follow Carly, pointing at City. “But if Fran gives me any shit, I’m sending her straight to you, and then she’s coming for Carly.”
Everyone laughed. They didn’t know what it was like to love Franny. She had balls bigger than me, and that was pretty hard to do.
“Let’s go in a different room,” Carly yelled when we passed by the speakers blaring “Cherry Pie” by Warrant.
I shrugged because I didn’t care where we went; I was not going to enjoy this. Well, I would enjoy it, but not the aftermath it caused.
She opened the door at the end of the hallway and stepped aside. “Sit down, and I’m going to turn off the lights. I want to try a new routine out on you.”
“I don’t know if I’m the best judge, Carly.”
“You’re perfect, Bear.” She smiled up at me. “Now, in you go.”
I did as she asked and sat down on the chair in the middle of the room before she switched the lights off and closed the door. I could hear her heels click against the tile as she approached, and I held my breath.
One of my favorite songs started to play—“Addicted” by Saving Abel—and I couldn’t help but think of Fran and smile.
When the lights turned on, my mouth fell open.
I was dumbfounded.
Standing before me in fuck-me pumps, a lacy G-string, and nothing else was my girl.
“Franny?” I mouthed, but the music was too loud for either of us to hear.
She shook her head, placing her index finger over my lips. Her body started to move with the beat, circling around my chair and touching my body as she walked.
Fuck, my wife is hot.
Still in shock, I stared at her, watching as she danced around me and put into use all the moves she’d learned at our dance class.
She backed up, straddling my legs and hovering over my cock as she ground her body against me. Jesus. My cock had already perked up when I’d seen her, but now she was about to give me a hard-on that wouldn’t go away without fucking her.
My hands slid around her body, gliding up her stomach, and just when I was about to touch her tits, she slapped my hand away. “No touching,” she said with a shitty smirk.
“Come on!” I yelled, trying to grope her again, but I ended up getting my hands smacked.
The entire thing made me laugh, but I wasn’t laughing at her. I couldn’t believe that Fran would do this for me. Her dark hair swayed with her shoulders as her hips moved the other way. I kept reaching out to touch her every time she got close, but she made sure I didn’t make contact.
Before the music ended, she sat in my lap with the biggest smile, her body sweaty and glistening. “Did you like your birthday gift?”
I wrapped my arms around her body and pulled her closer. “Best fucking present ever, sweetheart.”
“I’m not done yet.” She giggled and slithered off my lap to the floor.
Her fingers worked quickly, unfastening my button and pulling my stiff cock free. My belly fluttered, and my cock waved in anticipation as her tiny hand wrapped around the shaft.
She licked her lips, blowing gently on the tip. “You want me to suck your cock?” she asked, sending chills down my spine.
I freaking loved when she talked dirty. “Fuckin’ A.”
Her lips slid over the head of my dick, and my hips jumped from the chair, trying to shove myself deeper. She placed her hands on my legs and pushed me back down without missing a single stroke against her tongue.
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