by S. J. Blaze
Each girl is pouring their alcohol from the bottle to moisten the bar, and with my mouth wide open, I drink it while my front soaks it all up. My last bottle is the Patron and I pull it out of Savvy’s hands and stand up and scream, “Hell yeah!” I’m handed my earpiece. “The bar is clean! Now go grab a guy, grab a girl, and get some head!” I can’t help but laugh. I love hearing the crowd, and the alcohol has begun to warm me up.
“Make sure you find someone to tuck you into bed and have a fucking fabulous night! Oh and don’t forget to take good care of my girls. Tip well and tip often.” Then I end the way I do every single time and everyone joins in. “The bar is OPEN!!!!” With that the overhead spotlight goes off and the DJ picks up the music. I giggle shamelessly as I crawl down the front of the bar, everybody grabbing and wanting to talk to me. I even get a few lascivious offers. I love this place. Naturally, by this point, Malice is in full freak mode. He growls off any man in the vicinity and he and some of the club security have circled me as we walk to the VIP.
Reaching the seating area, I plop down when I see my guys. As per usual, they have women and men all over them. I squat on the armrest next to Bullet, most of the other spots are occupied since I’m the last to arrive.
Bullet leans over and licks my neck. “Yummy…Shooter and vodka. I think it’s my new favorite flavor.” I’m soaked. My hair is streaked with different liquors and my makeup must be a mess. But I’m happy. I haven’t seen the guys in at least a week, and that’s just not our norm.
He’s smiling while focusing his attention on me but I guess the girl next to him doesn’t like feeling neglected. She unbuttons his jeans and starts sucking his cock right there.
I feel my eyes nearly bulging out of my head. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this, but right in the VIP lounge while he’s chatting me up?
“What the shit, Bull?” His eyes close and he starts moaning and biting his lip.
I don’t need to see this shit. I begin to stand up and walk away when he grabs onto me.
“You’re gonna stay. It’s my birthday weekend and you aren’t going anywhere. This won’t take long.” As he says that, he eyes my tits. I can’t wear a bra with this shirt and with all the alcohol it is sticking to my rather chilled nipples. He licks his lips and whispers to my tits, “So fucking sexy.”
Even over the music, I can hear the girl’s slurping and sucking and I feel the bile creeping up my throat. I try to move again but his lock on my arm is intense. His veins moving under the sugar skull tat on his forearm make it look more menacing.
“Where’s my birthday kiss, baby girl?” The slurper thinks he’s talking to her so she starts to lift her head. “Not you…get back and suck me dry. Finish what you started.”
I catch a quick glint off his piercings before he grabs my head. “About my birthday kiss…”
His fingers locked in my hair, he pulls me towards him and kisses me hard. His kisses turn more incessant as he trails to my neck, then buries himself there. Although it’s wrong, I’m pretty sure I’m getting turned on. I usually try to have some control over my libido but even that seems to be slipping. I watch the girl bob up and down, her hands gripping and pulling him. I feel his breathing grow harder and harder against my neck and his hold on me tightens almost painfully. Then he bites my neck and murmurs my name as the slurping grows in crescendo and explodes.
Everything silences around us and I wait. Full of pride, the girl, who I now notice is a brunette smiles broadly and blinks her too-wide-for-her-face-and-it’s-really-creepy eyes. She licks her lips and sighs happily as if his cum was ice cream or something. Bullet’s cock is left hanging out, nearly forgotten, yet it remains in my sight. Bullet clears his throat and pulls away from my neck to look into my eyes. He studies me and then slips his view downward, stopping for an extra moment on my breasts and my tightly crossed legs. They were straddling the armrest earlier. I don’t remember crossing them.
“Tricks,” Bullet calls over his shoulder. “Go get me a Wilhelm Scream. They only serve it at the main bar.” He pulls his wallet out and hands her a twenty-dollar bill. His cock still laying there. Yeah, I keep noticing that.
I guess the brunette bug-eyed chick is Tricks. Sounds about right. She whines, “But they won’t let me back into VIP. I don’t have a bracelet.” She’s right and Bullet knows this, yet he replies. “Nah babe, they’ll remember you. Just say you’re with me.” He smiles assuredly at her. She nods, takes the money, and is gone.
He leans closer to me. “You wet?”
Uhmmm. How should I respond to that? I shrug. Bullet looks over my shoulder and I follow. Trig has a girl next to him with her hands down the front of his pants. Gunner has two girls around him. One next to him and the other straddling his legs, and by the noises and the positioning, they’re definitely going at it. Again, this isn’t a strange sight for me. They do this all the time.
Bullet grabs me off of the armrest and places me on his lap, straddling him. “When was the last time you had an orgasm?”
My face flames up and I lick my suddenly dry lips. “I think it might have been on T..Tuesday night?”
He shakes his head looking incredibly sexy as he stares at my lips while licking his own. “No, with a partner, baby.” His voice is laced with a raw edginess to it that I’ve never heard directed at me. It elicits all types of tremors to rip through my body.
Bullet knows my history, maybe not all of the specifics, but he knows; so his question throws me. I’m not sure if I should tell him the truth, so I sit there immobile. But the ache in my core isn’t going away and with Bullet’s warm breath cascading across my face, the smell of him so intoxicating, I can’t focus.
I shake my head, no.
He gnaws on his lower lip while seemingly making his mind up about something. His hands move to my ass as he begins to slowly knead, making things worse for me. I feel his cock pulsing back to life between my legs. But it’s the heat there that has me humming. I’m dying.
He checks over my shoulder once more then rips off the black shirt he’s wearing placing it next to him and pulls out his leather jacket wrapping it over my shoulders, cloaking us from wondering eyes. His callused strong hand moves around my waist while his thumb slides under my wet shirt and begins a back and forth movement inching higher with each gradual procession. My breathing becomes laborious and that slow simmering ache intensifies into a raging inferno. My nipples grow painfully hard with these foreign ministrations and I whimper disconcertingly.
“SShhh…I got you, baby girl. I’ll always take care of you,” he murmurs and presses his lips against mine. His teeth dig deeply into my bottom lip, engraving this moment in sharp tingles. I whimper my need for more, and with the hand still on my ass, he obliges with sliding me back and forth on his unconfined cock. His hand tantalizing under my breast is maddening. I need him to touch it. Grab it. Twist it. Hurt it.
He continues his torture and my entire body feels combustible. Although my last heated moment was over a month ago with Coen, this feels different. I’ve had Bullet in my life for over three years and he is one of my best friends. This isn’t some guy I just met. If I lost Bully, it would kill me. He’s in way too deep.
The tightening in my core is rising and coiling at a steady pace. It’s too late to return to the ground. The bungee cord will be pulled at any moment and I will freefall back to earth. Until then, I have no choice. My mind is lost to the man before me. And, assuredly, Bullet is all man.
His kisses turn demanding and more daring. His tongue moves in to clash with my teeth. This isn’t gentle. It’s rough and passionate. But right now I can’t find the energy or rational to care.
“Shooter,” he murmurs. “Let go, baby. Stop thinking and give me this, tonight.”
I want to let go. I want to be free. Even if for only a moment, I want to completely connect and feel safe. I want to be lost. I don’t want to be me.
The tightening intensifies and I’m barely hanging on. His warm hand encom
passes my entire breast and he squeezes hard. He then jerks and pinches my nipple to a deliciously painful point.
I’m lost, spiraling out of control into the infinity of darkness and space. I’m weightless. My muscles lock into the orbits of my flight. I think I may have touched the sun and then I’m swirling and twirling back down to earth.
He holds me close and whispers in my ear, “I got you, baby. Just breathe. I’ll never let anything happen to you.” He whispers my name in between tender kisses, and despite the reality setting in that this did indeed happen here in the middle of a nightclub, it relaxes me. With one hand in my hair, the other grabs the shirt and cleans up the mess on his stomach, then he finally tucks himself away. Darn. He looks at me shyly and smiles serenely. We are both lost in each other’s stares, coming down from our highs, when an angry Gunner grabs a hold of Bullet.
Both of Gunner’s hands wrap tightly around Bull’s neck, which has his face reddening with a lack of oxygen. “We made a fucking pact, brother. None of us were to touch her. She means too much. You fucking know that. You stupid fucking shit.” He screams into Bullet’s face.
Although it takes a second, I freak out. “Get off of him, Gunner!” I scream scratching at the hands around Bullet’s neck. My shirt is still bunched under my breasts, but I don’t care. I don’t understand what is happening and I want them to stop fighting.
Gunner finally releases his hold and sends me such an ugly look that I swear my heart stops. He shakes his head and without another word, storms away.
Bully fingers his neck while gasping for air. How could things have gone from such an unbelievable high to an unbearable low in less than a few minutes?
I stand and walk around the couch to better examine Bull when Trigger walks over. He points his finger in Bull’s face. “You fucked up. You could have any pussy in the entire fucking world except hers.” He shifts that pointing finger and glares at me. “And you…I thought you were better than this.” He shakes his head as a guy walks over and rubs his back, then brings Trig back to their vacated spot on the couch.
In the corner, I see Malice. He, too, gives me a look of distain. I don’t understand why everyone is agitated. I love Bullet. He made me happy tonight. I made him happy, I think, so why is everyone acting like it’s the end of the world?
Bullet, Gunner, and Trigger are my lifeline. They ground me. I’m lost. Like all of the time, lost. Without them, I may as well be the wind. Wandering aimlessly with nothing to pull her in. Nothing to capture her or harness her energy. I need these guys, probably more than they need me.
“Bull, are you ok?” I whisper. The tears clog the back of my throat and force my words to come out hoarse.
He stands from the couch, still missing his shirt and throws his jacket on. “I’ll be fine, Shooter. No worries, okay? I’ll always have your back. No matter what, you feel me?”
“Yeah.” I attempt a smile but he sees through it.
“I better go. Have Malice get you home safely. Love you.” He leans over kissing me on the forehead then another to the top of my head and leaves.
I hate this. It feels like I’ve crossed a painted line and I’m now stuck at a crossroads. I’m not sure what to do. What to say. It feels like everything I do is wrong. I hate being wrong.
Chapter Eleven
This weekend was an epic fail. After Friday night, I didn’t make contact with the guys. I wasn’t sure who was in the right or who was in the wrong. And with all honesty, I didn’t want to face them.
I guess my mood transpired into work since Lori and Olivia noticed. We were noshing on chocolate dipped fruit, when Olivia decided to break the ice. “You seem a bit off this week. Is everything okay? I noticed the flower arrangements have stopped and you’re getting less messages. Is that what’s getting you down?”
I no longer know what has me distressed, just that I am. “No. Lesson learned. I’m ready to get back out there and try again. I think?”
“Why don’t we go out tonight? We could meet up at a bar and have a little evening fun. Just a Girl’s Night Out. Gosh, I haven’t had one in forever! Please say YES!” squeals Olivia.
And that’s how I ended up in a bar on a Thursday night. I’ve decided to dress up a bit. I’m not in my usual jeans or leather pants. I traded it for a tight white long sleeve dress. The collar scoops around my neck and the body has a huge cutout of both the front and back of the right side of the dress. It curves low touching my hip and then across nearly revealing my belly button. My hair is pulled into a tight ponytail atop my head. My eyes are painted an alluring smoky shadow and soft pink colors my lips. I’m ready for whatever this Girl’s Night Out brings.
Both girls walk right past me, as I stand by the bar. I guess they didn’t see me. “Hey, don’t I get any love?” I ask putting my arms around them.
“Holy shit,” Olivia gasps. “I swear you almost look like a different person. Jesus, you look hot. We’re gonna find you a sexy stud and you’re gonna love every second of tonight!”
This is the most fun I’ve had with girls since law school. Being surrounded with my guys, I barely have time for any female friends, though they tend to be in short supply.
However, tonight I’m not a playmate prop, I’m not even Shooter. Instead I can try to find my rhythm as Charlie. A fun friend. I’m still learning the ropes but maybe I could get used to this.
After what happened in Gainesville, perhaps on some subconscious level, I’ve fallen out of touch with the female population. Maybe that’s why I’ve kept them at arm’s length.
The girls and I grab a booth to the side and order a round of Cosmos and potato skins, bacon on the side for the girls. Yummy, I think I’m digging being a chick.
I get lost in conversation about Brantley’s son Taylor’s ass, apparently it’s something I should ‘definitely’ notice. We joke about Jim McIntry, our tech guy, and how he talks to your tits and never meets your eyes; when the song F.E.A.R. from Papa Roach comes on. Lori starts shaking and screams, “Oh my god, I love these guys. This song is epic…let’s dance.”
I shake my head. “No thanks, you guys go. I’ll stand guard at our booth.” I don’t mind just chilling and jamming to the beat from afar.
“No way sexy, I wanna watch you work it!” Olivia sings pulling me out of the booth. Tantalized with the thought of dancing with the girls, I willingly follow them onto the dance floor.
Immediately, they start twerking and shaking and laughing and even screaming along with the lyrics. They look like they’re having so much fun that I decide to let go a little more. It’s time to let go of the past. Or to try to.
I jump in and scream and dance and laugh and laugh. The beat drives our movements and my hips rock on their own accord. My hands flail up in the air, Lori grabs one, and we do some weird twisting thing. With a hand behind my back, she dips me low and I nearly touch the floor.
Why not, right? We’re having a blast. I’m lost in this moment, fully ensconced in the beat, the movement, the bodies grinding against us.
We continue dancing and writhing around each other. Laughing ourselves into hysterics and eating up song after song. After what feels like hours, but is probably closer to only one, I feel the effects on my feet and I’m dying for some liquid relief. I yell into Olivia’s ear that I just received a desperate plea from my feet asking for a mini-break. By now, the music has shifted to a slower beat and they think we could all use some libations. I couldn’t agree more.
As we make the painful hike back to our booth, Olivia’s arm entwined with mine and Lori taking the lead with my hand in hers, I spy a familiar build in a back corner booth. Turning my head to get a better look, I see that it’s Trigger with two females, and across from him is Bullet with that Tricks girl (strange since he doesn’t like redo’s), and another girl.
Damn it! Immediately, all of my happiness, the fun I am having, peels away leaving the resounding hurt and anger that constantly lives there.
I haven’t heard a peep from any
of the guys. Yet, apparently, they’re still hanging out with each other. So, I’m being ostracized? I don’t get it. They fuck around all of the time. I let loose for a nanosecond and now I’m the leper? The black sheep? I get enough of that shit from my family, I don’t need it from these guys.
We make it to the booth. “You in for another round, Lee?” Lori calls over the table. She’s officially dubbed me Lee, tonight, but I kind of like it. Or I did. But now my night has soured and I’m a ball of hurt.
“Hook a girl up!” I shout back. I look over to the bar to make sure Malice is still there, or maybe he’s bailed on me, too. Apparently, it’s real fucking easy to do. But he’s watching me, and as attuned to me as he is, he’s noticed my mood swing south. His eyes narrow, but I try to send him a reassuring smile. It’s just another speed bump, I try to tell myself. I’ll deal with any decisions when I return from Florida.
I’m trying to focus on the girls when Olivia freezes and I feel someone standing to my left. “Holy shit! Are you Trigger?” she asks in awe.
“Yeah, every day and twice on Sundays.” He smiles and winks then throws his arm around my shoulder. “I need to speak with you.” He looks serious and motions with his head, while flailing some of his Mohawk, for me to move.
No, thank you. I was available all week, but apparently, I wasn’t important. “Wow. Trigger from Loaded Gun-AWESOME! But, NO! I’m hanging out with my girls. They’re my NEW BESTIES!” I reply with near venom in my voice. I can’t hide my hurt or anger and Trig should know me better.
“Lee, you know Trigger? That’s crazy,” Lori squeals while clapping her hands.
“Yeah, crazy LEE. Let’s talk. Now!” Trig replies looking agitated.
“Nah, I’m good. But it was freaking fantastic running into you.” I’m dismissive and cruel but I’m hurting too much to be anything else.
