Pretty Boy

by Tara Oakes

  Low and behold, right where I thought it would be, with a large shiny plaque on the door that reads “private”, is the place to finally get some answers.

  Pushing Jess behind me, shielding her, I kick the cheap door in hard enough for it to bounce off the back wall.

  “What the fuck?” A greasy-looking miniature version of the former proprietor, Nicky the Fish, throws his head back quick, still snorting the fine white powder that’s falling from his nostril.

  I waste no time in showing my badge, giving the guy all the information he needs before he does something foolish.

  “What the fuck are you doing back here?” He wipes furiously at his nose.

  Stepping in slowly, I keep my eyes on him. “Don’t be stupid, man. I just have some questions for you.”

  “You got a warrant?” He’s quick to retort.

  I put my badge away. “Not yet. I can get one with just a simple phone call, though. I’ve seen enough outside for probable cause — suspicion of dealing and whoring, though.”

  The beady-eyed looking man leans forward onto his forearms, resting on his desk. “Shut the door. Have a seat. Let’s see if we can work something out.”

  ~*~

  “You gotta do better than that, Benny.” I’m loosing patience.

  Benny, our host, and the temporary manager of this joint is not handling the pressure well. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence he bore a striking resemblance to Nicky. But, then again, I guess a job like this kind of requires the whole used-car salesmen look.

  Turns out, though, he’s Nicky’s first cousin, sent in to take care of the place until its rightful owner returns from the pen.

  We had closed this place down after we took Nicky into custody, but it was only a matter of days before the business was sold to some bogus shell corporation, all cash of course, and open for business again.

  That’s the way these operations work. When the heat gets too intense, they transfer ownership in name-only to keep the cash flowing. The place may look a hell of a lot nicer now, in its new state, but the management is nothing like what it used it be.

  “I’m gonna ask you again, Benny. Who’d you give the security photos to? How’d you contact them?” I rephrase my earlier requests.

  He looks torn, confused, and unsure of what to do.

  “Don’t make me call a judge this time of night and wake him up to sign a warrant, Benny. They get real pissed off when they have to do that, but I’ve got at least ten on speed-dial. Just give me what I want and you’re back to business as usual.”

  For tonight, at least. As soon as he gives me what I want, I may leave for now, but have no doubt I’ll return with backup in about a week to shut this place down again.

  “I didn’t contact them!” He’s finally made the right decision to cooperate. “I got an email asking if it was true, asking if we had footage of the strippers the night you collared Nicky, asking if she,” Benny nods over toward Jess who’s sitting next to me, “danced that night.”

  Interesting. I wasn’t sure how it went down, if Nicky was stupid enough to do the blackmailing himself, for his own selfish needs, like an early release, or if he had shopped the information around to the highest bidder who would take the photos off his hands and do all the dirty work themselves.

  It wasn’t likely that someone else entirely had found out about the photos, and then contacted Nick to get this whole thing rolling but it looks as if that’s what went down.

  “How’d they contact you?” I ask.

  Benny once again gets cold feet and holds back.

  “Don’t get shy on me now, Benny boy. Judge Malone is known to be especially grumpy at night. I’ll bet he’ll give me carte blanch if I ask him. That means I get to see your books, your computers …..”

  “Email. They contacted me by email on the club’s website. They wanted proof I had the pics, and in exchange they promised we’d get all the licenses expedited for another club we’re trying to open two towns over.”

  Hmmm. Very interesting.

  “I want those emails, Benny.” I list the first of my demands. He seems resigned to the idea of handling them over, knowing it’s inevitable. “I want the original security footage, too.”

  That one’s a bit more of a hard sell.

  I take out my phone and press the call button. “Judge Malone is only a call away, Benny.”

  “Fine! I’ll give you the originals. But, that’s it. Nicky’s gonna have my ass for this, you know.”

  I slip my phone back into my pocket and wait patiently as Benny goes to work on the safe behind him. A small flash drive is extracted from the heavy steel fireproof safe and handed over.

  “Pleasure doing business with you, Benny.”

  ~*~

  “Tell me what it says,” Jess is impatient, trying to lean over my shoulder to see the laptop’s screen.

  “Relax, Princess. I’m reading. It’s all pretty basic. They set up a meet time at the club last Monday to exchange the photos.” I’m giving her the abridged version of the emails I’m sifting through.

  “Last Monday?” She’s very interested. “That’s the night we had a debate with Donaldson. Daddy made the pledge that the election wouldn’t get dirty, and Donaldson said something to the effect of letting the people decide what information is important about their candidates. He kept dodging having to commit to a clean campaign.”

  She’s getting excited, thinking she’s solved the mystery, figured out who’s behind using her as bait to get to her dad. I know better, though. Rarely, is something like this as simple as the most obvious answer.

  “What’s the email it came from?” She’s resting her head on my shoulder, her arms wrapped around me, reading the brightly-lit screen along with me.

  “Already checked it out, Princess. It’s gotta be bogus.” I continue to scroll down, looking for any other clues.

  “Why?” Her warm breath tickles the skin just below my ear as she asks.

  I feel my cock stir, as if her breath were tickling it instead.

  “It’s an email address from one of Donaldson’s grass-root fundraising groups.” I bring up the screen to show her the address.

  tbanks@Donaldsonsdonors.com

  “See! I told you! Donaldson’s behind it!” She’s practically jumping up and down, and she has no idea what that’s doing to my body as I feel her tits crashing against me every time she does it.

  “Don’t get too excited, Jess. It’s probably a bogus address. No way is anyone stupid enough to use their real email in something like this, especially if it’s gonna give away who they fucking are. When politicians play dirty, they usually do it without leaving a trail of breadcrumbs directly back to their front door.”

  “Oh,” I can hear her voice deflate. “That makes sense.”

  I slam the laptop closed and turn to face her. “But, it does give us our next clue, gives us some place to go where maybe can get some legit answers.”

  I wrap my arms around her, letting my hands settle on her ass and knead the womanly flesh.

  “Oh?” She’s now optimistic, curious. “Where’s that?”

  The air conditioner in our plain-looking hotel room clicks on, emitting a low-wattage hum.

  “The headquarters for Donaldson’s donors, back in South Carolina.”

  She nods. “Sounds good to me. But that means we don’t have anything to do until tomorrow. How will we pass the time?”

  She begins to unbutton my collar but is interrupted by her ringing cellphone.

  “Sorry,” she mouths. “One sec.”

  She fumbles through her bag until she’s found the small device. “Hello?”

  I don’t let our little interruption waste any valuable time, as I slowly tease her by taking off my shirt. Her eyes are glued to me, but I can tell she’s distracted.

  “Sure. I’ll forward the press release packet; just have daddy sign off on it. Uh huh, yup … sure.” She’s biting her lip as I move to work on my pants.

&nb
sp; “Cooper, we can talk about this when I get back to the office. Actually, we have a lot to talk about.”

  Fuck.

  And there goes my hard-on. I can practically feel my dick shrivel as her lips, her perfect lips that were wrapped around my cock less than two hours ago, say his name.

  “I … I gotta go. I’ll see you when I get back.” She’s quick to end the conversation once the identity of her caller is revealed, but the damage is done.

  The energy in the room has changed. I take a wide step to the side to pass her before I crash down into the bed, propping a pillow behind me.

  “I’m not playing this game, Princess. You know I don’t share, and you know I don’t like being mind-fucked.” I’m harsh, but honest.

  She exhales, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s not that simple, Chris. He’s running my dad’s campaign. I can’t just tell him something like this over the phone and risk him quitting. I have to break it to him gently, in person.”

  I roll my eyes and look around her to turn on the TV. She spitefully steps in front of the screen, blocking my view.

  “Besides,” she adds. “I’m not sure exactly what to tell him yet. What do I say, hmm? My ex and I fucked in the back of a seedy strip club and now I’m questioning everything? That I don’t know if I’m ready to go back to being second in your life just to be close to you, because sometimes I think I’d settle for crumbs just to be able to feel your touch on my body? That I’m pissed at myself for even considering it, because I know I deserve more, deserve someone who’s going to make me number one and I’m not sure you can do it?”

  She’s screaming now. “Is that what I’m supposed to tell him? That I’m supposed to be this strong person who’s gotten past all this shit, and yet here I am, right back where I started!”

  I throw the remote aside, jumping off the bed to stand. My anger is rapidly growing that she’s even questioning herself, questioning me, or what we have.

  “No! You’re supposed to tell him you made a mistake. You thought you could just move on and forget me, but you can’t. That every night when you close your eyes, and every morning when you wake up, you kick yourself in the ass for ever leaving me in the first place. That you were young, stupid, and thought you had all the time in the world, but you don’t. That you can’t live another day punishing me because I know now what I lost. Because without you, it doesn’t matter if I have my job, if I have anything. It means nothing if you’re not there to come home to.”

  She shuts up, even steps back a little as I approach. I can feel the vein on my neck throbbing; my heart beats furiously. She knows when I get to this point I rarely think rationally.

  “Chris--”

  I grab her, pulling her to me and lock my lips on hers. She gives the smallest of objections, her body not cooperating, but not resisting at the same time. She’s done this, gotten me to the point where I can’t see straight, where I’m spilling my guts to her, admitting how desperate I am to have her back.

  My mouth is unforgiving on hers, my tongue searching deep for some unspoken answer, which I give her no opportunity to voice.

  She’s mine. Tonight. Regardless of whom she chooses tomorrow, she’s mine for now. I walk forward, backing her into the bed. Once I feel the back of her legs hit the mattress and her pace stops, I pull at her shirt, tearing my lips from hers only long enough to free her from the binding fabric.

  Her eyes are wild, her skin flushed. She’s mad. I’m mad.

  This is going to be nuclear.

  I grab her by the waist and lift, tossing her back onto the bed where she lands in a gentle bounce. My eyes don’t leave hers as I rip my belt off, throwing it aside. I unzip my pants and roughly push them down stepping out of them.

  “Take off your pants, Princess,” I command.

  She does as she’s told and shimmys the tight black material down past her hips. I grab the bottoms near her ankles and pull hard, yanking them from her body.

  “Touch yourself,” I give my next order.

  She wastes no time in dipping her hand low, her fingers disappearing. Her eyes close and she turns into a living, breathing, aphrodisiac. I rid myself of my boxers and fist myself as I watch the most fucking beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Don’t stop,” I instruct as I kneel forward on the bed, nudging her knees wider. Her gentle self-massage is enough for me to blow my load right here and now, but I want more.

  I want to taste her, to taste the honey sweetness that she has for me. I grab hold of each leg pushing them apart, to open her up and get a full view. I breathe deep, ready like a lion eyeing it’s next meal.

  I close my eyes and inhale the scent that is her, full of need, full of lust, and I use it as a guide to bring my mouth to her very center.

  She moans loudly, and I feel her body stiffen as my mouth claims her.

  “I said, don’t stop.” I reprimand her for pausing, using my tongue to spur her along again, working in between her fingers.

  I glance up and see her chest heaving, her free hand pulling at a lace-covered breast. God, she’s turned on something fierce.

  I trail my own finger low, down beneath my mouth to where she oozes, slipping and sliding over her pussy as she works her clit. She bites her lip in agony at the barrage of sensations overtaking her body.

  Just as I slip a collection of fingers deep into her, she spasms, arching her back and whimpering.

  There’s no way she can have any doubt, any confusion left in her mind as to where she belongs, who she belongs with, and more importantly … who she belongs to.

  My fingers, her hand, my tongue, all work together to bring her right where I want her, as she turns into a shuddering mess, her body seizing and erupting.

  She pants loudly, her lungs gasping for air.

  “Turn over, Princess.” I reach for the largest pillow I can find and use it to slide under her belly, her hips.

  Her back is so smooth, so silky as I trace my fingers down her spine to the top of her ass. Animal instinct rears its head and I smack the left cheek hard enough to offer a delicious crack that makes my cock jump. I rub over the area that she must feel stinging and knead at the supple flesh before lifting and delivering another love slap.

  My cock bounces once more in excitement at the feral sound and I use the impetus to thrust forward, plunging in to the hilt.

  It takes all self-control to hold myself still as I mentally talk myself down from the ledge. I’m right there, ready to spill over. I breathe deep and control myself, taking a hip in either hand before slamming in once again.

  This time, we both cry out, feeling the exquisite way my body locks into hers. I feel the sweat begin to bead on my brow, and I can see her fingers stretching and clawing at the crumpled blanket.

  Using her dangerous curves as handles I guide us deeper and deeper into the throes of each other, feeling my balls bounce against her with each impact.

  “Thank God!” she cries, muffled into the pillow she’s burrowing into.

  I reach forward and grab hold of the loose hair sprawling down her back, tugging tight.

  “Baby, there ain’t no one to thank but me,” I hasten my pace, delivering what she’s so grateful for, using her hair to reign her body in.

  She’s bringing out the animal, the beast, in me. I push her hips down and lean forward hitting a new angle, resting my head against her shoulders where I nip her skin and then kiss the spot.

  “Who’s girl are you, Princess? Who do you belong to?” I grumble in her ear.

  There’s a fresh flood of wetness bathing over my dick and I know my words are responsible for it, that her body’s found a way to answer me before her words can.

  She’s quiet, so I tug on the swath of hair still wound between my fingers.

  “Who?” I ask again, reminding her that I want my answer.

  She licks her lips, raising her finger to bite on the knuckle as I fuck every little bit of doubt from her.

  “You,” she uses the last of
her energy to answer me before she collapses under the weight of the strongest orgasm I’ve ever felt her have.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  JESS

  He’s finally asleep.

  I’ve been listening to his breathing for a while now, to the even wispy sounds that match the movements of his chest.

  The room is dark. The sun set long ago.

  We’ve been lying, wrapped up around each other, quiet, for a while. At first, we whispered little things, but that trailed off after a bit. What’s happened between us tonight is beyond words.

  Our bodies found ways to deliver tiny messages with swirling fingers and light kisses, but those slowed as the moments ticked by and our dreams grew closer.

  The only thing left to do is to lie quietly and wait for the sleep that will rest our bodies. That sleep looks to have claimed him first, judging by the shallow, even breaths that escape his lips.

  I don’t dare move, I don’t dare wake him. His body’s spent, exhausted, having expelled every ounce of energy and then some. So… I close my eyes and wait for my own slumber to arrive.

  If the dark is good for one thing, it’s good for thinking, for being left alone with nothing but your conscience.

  Part of me feels guilty, feels shameful that I’ve given in to desire when there are others than will be hurt. Part of me knows it was inevitable, that something connected with Chris and I long ago that separates us from anyone else.

  I have to tell Cooper, I have to be honest,

  Tomorrow.

  For now … I’ll sleep, wrapped up in his arms until the dreams come.

  ~*~

  “Coffee, ma’am?”

  I nearly spray the Orange Juice in my mouth across the table at Chris, who’s laughing. I’ve never been called ma’am before.

  “Uh, no. Thank you, but I don’t drink coffee.” I politely decline the waitress’s offer although I really want to tell her off for calling me such a matronly name.

  She moves along down the aisle to service the rest of the breakfast rush.