by Peart, A. O.
Ali purses her lips and looks at them from half-closed lids. It’s so hysterical that I need to pinch myself to keep straight face. Svetlana pretends not to know anyone around and just strolls straight toward the bar, chin held high.
I grab her arm. “The Turban Man is standing two o’clock to your right.”
She stops and very slowly turns her head, as if indifferently scanning the room for something interesting to watch. “I see him,” she confirms quietly.
Ali catches on and spots the persona non grata in the crowd. “The cop’s there, too, you see?”
“I’m feeling like a freakin’ fugitive.” I snort. “Why the hell won’t they just leave? His van is parked up front with the money and a note inside.”
“And the keys,” Ali whispers. “I don’t get people. Svetlana saved his ass. Those two punks would have beat him to a pulp—maybe even sent him to the heaven’s gate—and now he’s chasing us, crying on a cop’s shoulder? Fucking hypocrite.”
“I know, right?” I agree.
“The best thing would be to just call another taxi and leave,” Svetlana adds.
“I know, but I owe this to Helga. I really want her to have fun tonight. I feel like shit for dragging you guys here to get her. I thought about this and realized that she deserves to have a say in how she wants to spend her own birthday. Who knows how many she might have left. So, yeah, that’s the whole point of this masquerade.”
“No worries. We’ve got this. You were worried about her and Colin. So stop beating yourself on… with… uhm… you know what I mean. Damn English.” Svetlana takes my arm and steers me toward the bar. “The Turban Man won’t recognize us now, and they’ll leave sooner or later.”
“I hope they will.” I sigh. “Oh, crap!” I see Colin and Libby sitting at the bar, deep in conversation.
A light bulb pops on, and I put my finger across my lips, indicating Colin to my girlfriends. Ali and Svetlana chortle. This is going to be hilarious. It’s time to lighten up the atmosphere.
We sit next to Colin, but he pays us no attention. Libby seems not to even see us at all. I turn my back to them. Ali and Svetlana try to remain unremarkable, but looking like they do now, they attract the whole casino’s attention.
“Can I have a Long Island Tea, please?” I ask the bartender in the best imitation of a nasally southern drawl I can master.
Nothing. Colin doesn’t even budge. The bartender smiles, eyeing Ali, Svetlana, and me by turns.
I tap Colin on the back. “Excuse me,” I drawl. “What time is it?”
He doesn’t even glance at me when he says, “Ten forty-five.” He returns to his quiet discussion with Libby.
I shrug, looking at my girlfriends. They raise their eyebrows in a silent question: “Nothing? Not even a spark?”
I take my cell phone out and text him: “Where r u?”
Colin texts me right back, “At the bar with Libby. Where r u?”
Me: “I see u. Who’s the hottie next to u?”
Colin: “Some annoying southern belle.”
I smile and let Svetlana and Ali read it. They high-five me, grinning. Libby slides down from her barstool and leaves; probably to check on Helga.
Svetlana elbows me in the ribs, “Ask him if he’s looking for a date,” she whispers severely in my ear.
I nod, biting my lip. Colin’s preoccupied with his phone. I move a bit closer to him and drawl in a nasal voice, “You’re cute. Do you wanna go up to my room with me?”
He rolls his eyes and mutters, “No, thank you.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” I continue. Ali and Svetlana are cracking up. Colin’s completely oblivious to what’s going on. I can’t believe he doesn’t recognize me.
He’s still ignoring me, typing on his phone. A text message comes from him: “So where r u?”
Me: “Restroom. BRB.”
I slide my arm around his waist and lick his earlobe.
He yelps and jumps off his barstool as if he was on fire. He’s laughing, but I can tell, he’s pissed. “Hey, take it easy. Not interested.”
I turn to face him, seductively crossing my legs and leaning back in my seat.
Colin does a doubletake. “What the fuck? Nat?” He looks totally thunderstruck and then tilts his head back and roars in laughter. “What is this?” He fingers my spiky hairdo and looks me up and down with renewed interest. “I like what I see. Is that a wig?”
I hear Ali’s exaggeratedly twangy voice, “Hey, handsome. So now you wanna go to her room?”
“Ali?” He opens his eyes wide. “What are you two doing?”
“Actually three, not just two. This is our friend Svetlana.” I point to Svetlana, and she shakes hands with Colin, smiling mischievously.
“And that’s a wig, too.” She points to her hair. I’m a blonde.
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Svetlana. Nice to finally meet you,” Colin says.
“A lot? From these two?” She points from Ali to me and back.
“Just from Natalie.” Colin laughs. He looks at Ali. “Why are you wearing the wigs?”
Ali waves her hand dismissively. “Oh, just something fun for Helga’s birthday. We’re celebrating after all, right?”
“Right.” He smiles his slow, sexy smile, looking at me in that predatory way I know all too well.
Queen Vagina jingles imaginary keys to a hotel room, taping her foot impatiently. My heart thuds in excitement and my insides start to liquefy when Colin leans close and whispers, “I think we need to spend the night at the casino.”
SEVENTEEN
“Trust yourself, then you will know how to live.”
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Libby tells us that Helga and Stella moved to two different poker tables. When I ask why, she explains they didn’t want to win their and my friends’ money, and they didn’t want to play against each other either.
“What made them so sure they would win with Melba, Agatha, and my girls?” I laugh.
“You would be surprised.” Libby is smiling. I love her smile. Her long forgotten youth shines through it, and I can see the girl she used to be when she smiles like that. “Helga and Stella have been playing poker for over forty years. Each week they meet up with friends at the Senior Center or in each other’s homes to play. And they win, almost every time.”
“Are they winning now?” I cock my head to the side.
“Helga is. At least she was when I checked last.”
“You’re not afraid she might start losing all she won, and then more?” I ask, and then I immediately chastise myself for such a lack of trust toward Helga’s abilities to restrain herself. And here it is that word again—trust. How can I expect Colin to fully trust me with my own choices, if I can’t trust anyone else?
Libby looks at me as if reading my thoughts. “Actually, she’s not what we might call a regular gambler. Meaning, she knows when to quit. She likes money more than the thrill of winning.”
“She’s always been that way,” Colin adds, absentmindedly playing with my false spiky hair. “She knows how to keep her money. Of course, they rarely play for real money—she and her friends.”
“Hey, let’s sing her a Happy Birthday,” I suggest.
“That would be a great idea.” Libby beams.
I turn to the bartender and ask him if we could have some staff help us with that. He gets one of the cocktail waitresses and talks with her in a quiet tone. A moment later she departs, and he tells us there will be an announcement on the stage with the happy birthday wishes for Helga.
Ali and Svetlana whoop excitedly and clink their appletini glasses. I text Jena and Caroline. Jena texts back that they aren’t playing anymore and instead are watching Helga and Stella win at the neighboring tables.
We leave the bar area and rush to where Helga’s white-haired head bends over the cards in her small hands. Standing a few feet away from her table, we wait for the announcer to take over the stage. Last Year’s Bikini is long gone—thank Go
d—and now a guitar trio plays some upbeat jazzy tune I find so much easier on my senses.
I realize my head doesn’t hurt anymore, and I think it’s because the tension of the night is over. The Turban Man and the cop must’ve left. The five of us brilliantly transformed our looks, so it was close to impossible for the driver to recognize us. So now it’s time to celebrate and have fun.
The dealer at Helga’s table must’ve been told about her birthday, because when the round of the poker game ends, he asks the patrons to wait a moment. He says something to his walkie-talkie, and a minute later the announcer walks to the microphone on the stage. His dazzling smile and deep, booming voice gets immediate attention. “We have a special guest tonight at the Point Elliott Casino.” He gestures to the poker tables area.
A beam of light from the ceiling puts Helga in the spot, and we all start to clap. She looks up and around, startled and confused.
“Ms. Helga Baumhardt is celebrating her eighty-fifth birthday today!” the announcer calls out, his voice cutting through the conversations and laughter. He sure knows how to get the crowd’s attention. “Please join me in wishing Ms. Helga a very happy birthday and many more to come!”
The Happy Birthday tune starts playing, and it seems as if everyone in the casino is singing with our group. Helga’s surprised expression slowly disappears, and a big grin spreads on her wrinkled face. She clasps her hands together and brings them to her lips, her eyes shining with joy.
One by one, we hug her, each of us repeating the happy birthday wishes. She hugs back and kisses everyone on the cheek. Stella, Agatha, and Melba stand on one side, beaming at Helga and at one other. Their group reminds me so much of my own girlfriends. I lift my glass and drink to the Female Solidarity Club—the Silver one and otherwise.
Colin walks up and stops behind me. I feel his arms wrap around me, and he presses me to him. I rest my head against the hard slabs of his chest muscles and entwine my fingers with his.
“This turned out quite well,” he murmurs in my hair, and I smile.
“Yes, it did. Helga looks so happy.”
“I like to see her happy,” Colin says softly. “And I like it when you are happy.” He kisses the top of my head.
His scent is intoxicating. I close my eyes and inhale the musky smell of Colin. My Colin. I melt, pressed to his body, and when he kisses my temple, I raise my arms over my head and encircle them around his neck. My fingers twist in his hair, and all I long for now is to be alone with him.
He must be reading my mind, because he leans lower, and his lips graze my earlobe. “I want you naked under me.”
His touch resonates through my body. I shiver in sweet anticipation.
Colin gives me a quick peck on the cheek and disentangles himself from my embrace. “Let me make sure everyone has a room for tonight, us included.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “You’re not going to pay for everyone’s hotel room, are you?”
“It’s for Helga’s birthday. Don’t worry, it’s okay.” He dazzles me with his sexy smile. My heart thuds against my chest when our eyes meet. There is so much tenderness in his gaze. He takes my hand and slowly and deliberately kisses the inside of my wrist without looking away. “Remember what I said before. I want you completely naked as soon as we enter that room.”
That’s all he needs to say and do to make me flush with hot desire. Hell on wheels, I’m ready to burst.
EIGHTEEN
“Sex pretty much cures everything.”
Chuck Palahniuk
Svetlana doesn’t stay at the casino hotel. Oleg and Vadim take her back home. She says Andrei wouldn’t be happy if she stayed, and she knows better than to rock the boat. After all, playing with fire is not what this gangster’s girlfriend would willingly do. She’s one smart cookie, despite being totally crazy—in a good way, that is.
Libby and Helga with her Silver Female Solidarity Club ladies, are ready for bed shortly after Colin secures the hotel rooms for everyone. Ali, Jena, and Caroline are still in the mood to party, so I just leave them to it.
It’s past midnight, but the casino crowd is not thinning out. There is a soul band on the stage, and a few couples are slow-dancing in front of it.
“I’m beat,” I tell Ali, Jena, and Caroline. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Maybe we can swim in the pool? I’ve heard the pool here is spectacular, with a waterfall and Jacuzzi.”
“Party pooper,” Caroline yells, and the other two of my girlfriends join in. Yep, they had way too much to drink.
“Whatever. Don’t get yourselves into any trouble without me.” I yawn.
“Trouble? Us? That’s your specialty.” Ali snorts.
“I’m in room five-o-seven, if you need anything.” I hug each of them.
“I doubt you would let us in, girlfriend. You smell horny, and so does that hunk of yours.” Caroline laughs.
Jena downs her drink. “Leave the woman alone. She’s got herself an awesome dude. Let her play, you jealous nags.” I notice she slurs a little.
I kiss her on the cheek. “Behave. I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go! Don’t make Colin wait, or he’ll rip the clothes off you with his teeth.” Yep, she’s definitely slurring.
“He might do that anyway.” I chortle. “See ya tomorrow.”
As soon as we are in the hotel room, Colin locks the doors and leads me to the bed.
“Take it all off.” He runs his hands over my shoulders and down my breasts, stopping at my waist.
I smile and toss my clothes by his feet. Svetlana’s wig ends up on top of the pile. I remove the pins and shake my hair loose, inhaling deeply. He takes his shirt off and slowly, deliberately unbuttons his jeans, his eyes on me.
“Lay down on your back, legs spread,” he commands.
“Should I be afraid?” I taunt.
“Very.” Colin crawls over me. His lips find mine. They are soft and firm at the same time. His tongue runs alongside the spot where my lips meet, and I open my mouth, flicking my tongue over his. He inhales sharply and deepens the kiss. I moan into his mouth and tighten my fingers in his hair.
Colin’s kiss becomes more urgent, more passionate. But a moment later, he sits back on his heels and tugs me up to him. I spread my knees to the sides, pressing them onto the mattress. I climb over to straddle his lap and grasp his well-defined shoulders for support.
He pulls me to him with one hand splayed in the middle of my back, while his other hand slides between us and down to my cleft. Adeptly, he rubs my opening with his thumb, getting its pad wet, and then circles it over my clit, while gently sliding two fingers inside me.
I cry out and ride his fingers, pushing them deeper. He wraps his other hand around my hair and pulls my head back, to gain easy access to my throat. I feel his tongue licking the side of my chin and down to my throat. He makes me arch my back even more, and then his mouth is on my nipple, his teeth grazing it, the tongue relentlessly lapping at it. He sucks on it, and I moan again, pressing his head to my breast with my hands.
Colin pushes another finger inside me, and my climax starts rapidly building, the scorching heat consuming me. I grasp his cock in my hand and stroke him from tip to root, feeling it lurch and quickly harden even more. It becomes thick and rigid in seconds when I pump and squeeze it in my fist.
He murmurs, and his hand leaves my folds, sliding back to my butt, forcing me forward. I spread my legs even more to the sides, and his enlarged length enters me in one swift motion. His hands are on my hips, urging me up and down. I ride him hard and fast, racing toward the thunderous orgasm.
He stretches and fills me, and I moan continuously, unable to contain this ravishing need building inside. He’s all I’ve ever wanted; all I’ve always searched for; he’s the prize I finally was granted after playing all the wrong games. My Colin; my angel.
“I love you… so much,” I whimper between the ragged breaths.
Colin groans. The sound is primal, so sexually charged. It pushes me into t
he spiral of delicious climax, and I bite onto his shoulder, stifling my scream. My sex clenches and unclenches firmly around his engorged penis, desperately prolonging the raging pleasure.
“I love you too. You’re mine. Only mine,” he rasps through gritted teeth.
Surprisingly, I like this type of alpha male declaration of possessiveness. There are finally no restraints or boundaries between us, and I find myself appreciating this domineering demeanor more than anything. Who would have thought I had it in me—a gratitude for male control, though only in bed. I’m not only finding the new side of Colin but also the new me.
“I’m yours, only yours. Oh, baby, you feel so good, so hard inside me!”
With a deep, low grunt, he pushes me onto my back, one hand cupping my butt, the other grasping my shoulder. He slams into me, his cock pumping relentlessly. His heavy sack slaps against my buttocks, and I feel another climax quickly approaching.
“Baby, you’ll make me come again,” I pant, splaying my fingers and digging them into his hard, lean buttocks.
He grins. “And that’s so bad, huh?”
I close my eyes and smile back, biting my lip. Without stopping his sweet assault, he lowers his face to mine, supporting himself on his elbows, and says, “That’s my job.”
“What’s your job?” I look at him.
“This.” His teeth sink into my swollen lip. He tugs gently, and then sucks, licking with just the tip of his tongue.
I murmur in appreciation, while he takes over my mouth, his tongue stroking deep, sliding over and around mine, voracious and unyielding. He shifts slightly to the side, and I see in my peripheral vision his bulging bicep growing even more defined. His hand cups my breast, plumping it and transmitting a blazing sensation through my body, all the way to my over-stimulated sex.
