Chapter 15
“That’s no good. It just won’t do.”
“What am I supposed to do about it?” Henley’s voice is just slightly panicked. “I just can’t… it just won’t fit.”
With a sigh, I stand up and take in the garment in question. It really won’t fit. So I take it and toss it in the scrap pile. Finding something besides a snowsuit that I’ll let Henley wear to a sex club has been a harder task than I thought. The ‘assistant’ that is supposed to be figuring this shit out is hunkered in the corner. Apparently Henley and my battle of the clothing is freaking her out.
“Try on the next one.”
Henley just rolls her eyes grabs the next outfit and walks into the changing room.
I can hear her shuffling around trying the outfit on, and I know it’ll be a minute so I cast a sidelong glance at the woman in the corner. Her outfit is impeccable. Her hair impeccable. Her makeup is even doing a good job. But her eyes are frazzled, panicked. This is probably her first time dealing with a high end client like myself. How amusing.
“Hey. Why don’t you do something useful. Go get my girl a drink.”
“Yes sir I’m so sorry sir-” her words are garbled together and it takes everything I’ve got not to burst out laughing and hold my conceited rich look as she scrambles and trips over herself to get out of the room.
With a grin I turn my eyes back to the changing room door. All the blood leaves my brain and heads… well… I’m sure you know, as I take in Henley.
“I think this one will work,” she smooths her hands down the front of the almost corset halter top. Her midriff is hanging out, and it’s almost backless. Have I ever mentioned I love the way Henley’s back looks? The curves. The skin. Frankly it makes my dick hard as hell.
And when I get a look at the front? Christ. The perfect curve of her tits peeking out from the top. Fuck me. That’s perfect. “Take it off.”
“What it’s a good one?”
“It just wont do. Take it off.” Nobody but me can ever see her like that.
“No, I like it. I think it just screams sex club. Especially this tiny skirt. It makes my ass look great.” She’s turning in the mirrors checking out the outfit from all angles.
It does scream sex. That’s the problem. “No.”
“You can’t just stick me in a burlap sack and call it done.”
I can if I want, I think balefully.
“Here you go ma’am. A glass of watermelon-lime agua fresca.” The womans body is trembling as she hands over the drink.
“Oh, thank you, that’s so sweet.” The girl quickly retreats, back to her corner. And Henley casts me a look telling me to stop torturing her.
“Okay, so the next outfit we should try-”
“I’m getting this one,” Henley says firmly. Her eyes say no arguments. But I really don’t want anyone seeing Henley in that. Henley turns on her foot and walks back into the dressing room, before coming back out in the jeans and shirt Micky brought for her this morning.
When she comes out she just smiles at the assistant, “I’ll take these ones thanks.”
The girls eyes are whipping back and forth between me and Henley. It’s almost comical. And eventually the girl slinks past me toward the front room with the register and Henley follows. I’ve got nothing to do but follow as well. But I am not buying that.
Henley just smiles as it’s rung up, and I keep waiting for her to freak out at the price. I keep waiting. She pulls her card out without batting a lash. Fuck. My hand is moving before I even think about it as I’m batting her card away and replacing it with mine.
“Oh thanks Angus, I really could have gotten it though.”
“Did you not see how much it was about to cost?”
She laughs softly and takes the back from the girl with a noncommittal thanks. Before turning that startling green gaze on me.
“You know I may not be on Forbes list of richest assholes, but I make do.”
I’m sure you know me by now, so you know I’m scowling at this… hard. “I’m not an asshole.”
“You assuming that I need you for whatever reason outside of a great orgasm is complete assholery.”
Does it seem like her snarkyness is back in full force after the great night we had before? Yeah it does to me too. I think after her shields going down like they did, she has to boost them back up. She has to fake being tough. I don’t know why. I’m just glad she is still smiling. Her mood is, probably the best one I’ve ever seen her in. Perky. Curious. Happy. I don’t know a lot about Henley, but I know I like her happy. Even if I had to buy that… horribly awesome outfit. I’m going to have a rough night beating the men off her.
“Say, Angus… are you hungry?”
She’s paused in front of some kind of Cajun restaurant. I don’t know what Cajun is, but she’s looking at it like a long lost friend.
“I can eat lover. Is this what you want?” I ask indicating to the front of the building.
“They’re having a boil,” she says flashing that warm melty kind of smile at me and I’m hooked. I don’t know what a boil is, but I’ll do it. For that smile I’ll do anything.
I open the door and with an excited little hop she goes inside, and I follow suit. It smells. Not bad mind you. But you know when you go in a restaurant and you can really only smell the food when it gets to you’re table? This is nothing like that. The whole place smells like delicious food.
I walk up behind Henley who is chatting animatedly with a waiter about one thing or another, and with a smile he crooks his arm out for her, she takes it and he leads us off to the kitchens. I say us but only because I follow. Like hell this little prick is walking off with my Henley. When we get into the kitchen, there is a somewhat rotund man that greets us. The chef by his outfit. Henley shakes his hand with a smile.
“Bonjour. Comment ça va?” Her accent when the words leave her lips is thick and husky.
“Beaucoup bien. What can I do for you miss? You’re a long way from Acadiana.”
“Yes, I am a long way from home.” I stand back and watch the emotions play over her face before she turns her eyes back up to the chef. “Now the sign for the boil lured me in… but is that cochon de lait that I smell?”
“Oui, you’ve got the nose for it. Say, what if you get some of everything. Don’t want you leavin’ homesick.”
Henley laughs all sweetly, and they talk for a little longer about spices and this and that. Things I know nothing about. And I think she can tell I’m feeling pouty. Because she says farewell and we work our way out to a table. She surprised me again when she orders a beer. Not a cocktail. Not water. Not tea. Henley is a beer kind of girl. It suits her.
“Sorry Angus I just get so excited you know. I can’t believe he has fresh cochon de lait.” She looks like she is in heaven.
“I didn’t know you spoke… french?”
“Cajun French. Everybody at home speaks it… I thought I might have forgotten how, it’s been so long.”
“If it has been so long why don’t you… go home? To visit I mean.” Because you can not leave. I don’t know if she knows but… I don’t think I’d let her.
Her eyes watch me that curious speculative green. Thinking very carefully about what she wants to say before she says it. “I… Nora thinks I’m not ready yet.”
“Nora again. She sounds like she thinks a lot of things.”
“She does,” Henley replies with a laugh. “She butts her nose into everything. Guess thats her job as a therapist though.”
“What does she say about me? About us? If you told her I mean.”
“Nora knows more about my situation than anyone. She knows every detail. She’s looked at everything… and I told her… that first day after we… well… I ran home. I was freaking out. I never do shit like that. I curled up with a bucket of ice cream and I was so worried what Nora would say. And when I finally told her the next day… do you know what she said to me?” Henley laughs and shakes her head. “Sh
e said to me, ‘Good thing girl you’ve been needing to get laid for years.’”
She takes a long swig of her beer and watches me with that selfsame melty warm look. “It’s funny actually… she acted like it wasn’t anything… and after everything… it’s like… all the panic was in my head the whole time… she thinks you’re good for me. Even though I tell her you’re leading me down a debaucherous road of no return.”
“Debaucherous?” I feign insult, as I play with the butcher paper table cloth. “I’ve not led you down any road you didn’t choose to walk down with me lover.”
“Exactly… You’re not the first man to offer Connor McKerrick. You’re just the first one I couldn’t refuse.”
Before I can comment on the profoundness of that statement, our waiter comes out carrying a bucket. Followed by two other waiters with trays. The waiter with the bucket heaves the bucket up and turns it over on the table, when he pulls the bucket away shrimp, corn, potatoes, and sausage pour out, along with… mini… lobsters?
Henley is across from me chirping as happy as can be in her seat, so I assume this is all quite normal. As they load the table with what looks like two types of soup and some thick rolls of sausage. When the last waiter sets the plate down before backing up, I’m out of my seat before I can stop myself. All the waiters laugh as they leave but my eyes are glued on it.
Henley smiles and picks its head up in her hands. “What you don’t want to eat me squee?” she makes her most pouty face.
“Thats… a small pig,” I say slowly taking my seat as I stare at it’s eyeless head still gripped in Henley’s hands. I had no idea I was going to a horror show for lunch.
“Yup. A baby pig. Cochon de lait. Perfectly roasted suckling pig.”
“Suckling…”
“Yea they walk up and club it while its on the mothers teat.” Her face is so serious I have no clue if I should believe her or not. That just seems… “I’m kidding geez.”
When I don’t respond she just rolls her eyes and breaks off a piece, crispy skin and all, and leans across the table offering it to me. She doesn’t put it on a plate or a fork or anything. She offers to feed me from her hand, like she knows I’d refuse to touch it if it weren’t for the chance to lick something off her body. Fuck me. I put it in my mouth, slowly dragging my teeth along her fingers and she smiles. She fucking smiles. And when I chew… it… it’s good. Really fucking delicious. I almost don’t feel bad for chowing down on a little pig.
“Well?” those ever curious eyes are watching carefully for my reaction to the baby pig.
“You win okay? It’s good. Really really good. Now what do we do with the baby lobsters?”
Her eyes go wide for a fraction of a second before the laughter starts bubbling past those pretty pink lips. Howling laughter. I slink lower in my seat. Really what the hell is she laughing at anyways.
“Baby lobsters? Angus you need to get out more. They’re crawfish. Not…” she tries to hold the laughter back and it comes out as adorable almost snorts. Eventually she settles down, wiping the tears from her eyes, picking up one of the little things and planting her elbows on the table.
“Well first you grab it like so.” I imitate the stance and she smiles. It almost looks affectionate. “Then you twist like so.” With a pop the thing comes right apart. And she sucks the brains out… she literally sucks the brains out of it. And then waits for me to do the same. I take a deep breath and follow suit. Henley will never tell me I’m not a good sport about this weird shit. Then she twists the tail and pops the meat out popping it in her mouth.
“It’s good,” I reply with a sigh. “Why does all your food have a head on it?”
“The boudin doesn’t, neither does the gumbo or jambalaya. But their not as good either,” her smile is infectious. It is pretty damn good.
We eat in almost silence, and I feel like she is letting me experience a peek at her childhood. A peek at the real Henley underneath. The Henley that she covers up.
The crawfish goes surprisingly fast. So does the pig. And when we leave Henley has a pleasing flush on her cheeks like she experienced something enjoyable. And I’m thankful for that. Once we are outside Henley stops on the sidewalk noticing the setting sun, and turns to look at me carefully.
“When do we need to leave…?”
“We’ll take the Maserati. And we should leave now if you want a full night of ‘new perspectives’.”
She gives me that smile that tells me she is quite pleased, before practically skipping her way back to where we left the Maserati. She pauses outside her door casting me a teasing smile and waits for me to open the door for her. I just roll my eyes and make my way over, when I open the door she gives me a quick peck on the lips before sliding into the seat.
I round the front of the car and follow suit, sliding easily into the black leather seats. When we start moving down the street, Henley grabs the bag of clothes, and I have to take a double take as she starts shimmying out of her pants in the confines of the car.
“What are you-”
“It’s fine. I got this. The windows are tinted.”
With a sigh I keep one eye on the road and one eye on her increasingly naked form. It’s kind of hot watching her wriggle around and take her own clothes off. I should have asked her for a strip tease before this. She manages to slip the skirt over her hips, before she reaches under it and pulls her panties off.
“Wait. Wait, wait.”
She gives me that frisky sort of look and winks. “Easy access Angus it’s all about easy access.”
“Christ you’re going to kill me. Tonight is going to kill me.”
“I look forward to it,” she replies slipping into the tight almost corset as we pull up in front of Wicked.
I park, slip around and help her out. The skirt is way to short to be wearing no panties, but I know she won’t listen, no matter what I tell her. So I just keep my jaw clamped shut so nothing stupid and assholey comes out to ruin the evening.
I hand the bouncer the cash for the cover fee, and we slip inside. I take extra care to gauge her reactions, but she just seems curious. She takes in all the dark red walls and chocolate leather furniture with aplomb. Not worried. That’s a good sign. But the night has barely started. I hand her one of the readily available clorox wipes, point her toward a booth and walk toward the bar. I’m going to need to start drinking early.
“Rum and coke, and uh… something sweet.”
“Rum runner is fine?” The bartender asks.
“Yeah sure, that’ll be good.”
“Your first time here?”
“No,” I reply dragging my eyes off of Henley to talk to the bartender.
“Her first time here?”
I can feel my jaw tic in aggravation. Even the bartender can spot a sex club virgin from the other side of the room.
“Well you know we get a good crowd on Saturdays, if you intend to share don’t worry. The boys will take good care of her.”
I toss some cash on the bar, snatch the drinks up and stalk back to Henley. I don’t share. Not Henley. Not ever. That is my one absolute limit.
When I get back to the table she is bent over a notepad and scribbling furiously. Completely oblivious to anything around her.
“I think… you’re missing the point here.”
“Hmm? How so?”
I gesture vaguely at her notepad and she just smiles back.
“How am I supposed to take notes without a note pad?”
“The point of this, is to experience it lover,” I say slipping in the booth next to her, letting my hands lazily caress her exposed thigh. She blushes furiously, before trying to stutter something out, and finally she just snatches up her drink and takes a huge gulp. “Now… I’m not going to let you experience this to it’s full extent, but we can have a little fun.”
“You won’t let me?” Her smirk is wide like she intends to challenge me on this.
Tightening my grip on her thigh, I pin her leg to the
seat and use my free hand to take a fistful of her hair and force her head back. She bows up slightly off the seat, trying to relieve the pressure of my grip. My blue eyes pierce her no longer smirking green ones.
“Couples come here to… trade partners. I’m sure there is a group of men I could find here that would be more than happy to gang up and fuck your brains out, but I. Do. Not. Share.” I lighten my grip on her hair, and begin stroking her thigh again. “But I’m more than happy to fuck you myself.”
When I let her go she watches me for a long time, with a flush on her cheeks before she turns and begins scribbling in her notepad again.
“Sorry,” I say softly. “That was relatively uncalled for… I just-”
She mumbles something cutting me off but she doesn’t look up.
“What did you say?”
“I said… it was… kind of hot…” her face is beet red and still her eyes haven’t lifted off the notepad.
“You… prefer it rough?”
“I think I might,” she says her eyes finally drifting up. She looks like the idea scares her. That she might like her fucking a little darker. I try to smile reassuringly because frankly I like the idea.
“I’ll be sure to… delve deeper into that,” I say rubbing my unshaven jaw. “As well as other things I’ve been meaning to look into.”
I sip on my drink in silence, and let her absorb the atmosphere of the club as more patrons fill in. It started out mild, just some people talking. But at the bar there is a man quite clearing fingering some girl. One he didn’t come in with. Several people have pulled themselves into darkened corners. There are a lot of dicks and tits walking around. And in the booth right next to us, a poor girl is getting fucking smashed, by the guy she picked up. Henley looks like the debauchery might be finally getting to her.
“You used to come here?”
“Yep,” I reply trying to offer what full disclosure I can.
“What was it like?”
“Well…” what am I supposed to say here. I opt for honesty even though I have a feeling it’s going to get me in trouble. “What do you want me to say Henley? Usually my dick is out and girls are grinding on it but I don’t want them to? It’s a sex club I came here for easy sex lover. Some people come here for easy sex like me. Some come to live out the fantasies they won’t admit to outside of these walls.”
Torn (The McKerricks Book 1) Page 12
