by Vance Huxley
*
Sure enough, someone banged on the door in the morning, with an injunction to pull it out and wipe it off because breakfast started in half an hour. Mercedes stretched luxuriously, peering down under the quilt, “To see if you’ve lost anything.” Checking the buttons more likely,while Harold took advantage of the disturbance to ease his boxers up. Mercedes didn’t play any games now. Enough light came throughthe curtains to negate any interference from the light show.
Mercedes bent sideways to put her knife back on the dressing table, her shirt tightening across her ass. Harold quickly stifled the impulse to spank it, or stroke it at least,cursing to himself and scowling for the camera to help him to hide the smile. Mercedes glanced over as Harold sat up and saw the scowl. “Why Harold, anyone would think you didn’t enjoy your night?”
Sound and vision, sound and vision, Harold reminded himself, and get the hell out of here as soon as possible. “Why Mercedes, how could I not enjoy it? Every man for miles around dreams of spending the night in your bed.” Harold flipped the covers up enough to get out.
“You’ll be leaving your boxers behind, Harold. They aren’t fit to wear, judging by the way you sweated all over my lovely sheets last night. Once they’re clean I can keep them as a trophy since I didn’t get anything else.” Mercedes busily sprayed air freshener around. “You Soldier Boys should wash more often if you want to impress a girl.” That also killed any passion in the air.
Harold resigned himself to going home commando, but Mercedes hadn’t finished. “Phew, these sheets need washing. I’ll get someone to sort it out while you shower, and she can bring you some new undies. Maybe.” A pause. “Tempting thought, but since you are a guest it would be impolite to send you home without your shirt or panties.” Mercedes raised her voice. “Hey, whoever. Get this man some clothes before I lose control, and send Eleanor.” Another slow up and down look at Harold followed. “Now get in there and clean up, you filthy beast.”
Harold forced the scowl to get stronger and stomped into the en-suite before stripping and throwing the boxers out the door.He enjoyed the shower,taking the time to use a disposable razor from the pack on the shelf above the sink. There were murmurings and movement outside before the door to the en-suite suddenly opened. Harold grabbed for the towel. “Spoil-sport. Here.” A pair of boxers and atee were tossed onto the floor before Mercedes turned away, laughing loudly. Harold dressed, finding fresh socks outside by his jeans and boots.
The sheets, pillowcases and quilt cover had gone, as had his tee and boxers. “All that sweat; I had to send my nightie as well.” Mercedes wore a huge padded dressing gown, one the size of a small tent and plenty big enough to cover the shirt coming off. The watchers were probably chewing their monitors in frustration. Harold realised that the continual teasing had to be Mercedes’ way of dealing with the tension. The tease in question gave him a speculative look and moved her hands fractionally. “Want to check?”
“I would love to conduct a leisurely private inspection, but until then the wonderful memory is burned into my brain with stunning clarity.” That got a wide smile with an eye flicker so Mercedes had caught the ‘private’ part.
“Big words and compliments, all in one breath.” Mercedes looked away, addressing the wall. “I hope you boys are learning.” She managed a hip swaywhile crossing to the en-suite, despite wearing a tent. “Get your jeans on, or I’ll be getting all hot and bothered.” She took a final pop at him just before the door closed. “I won’t be long. And to think that they always accuse us girls of taking too long to pamper ourselves.” Harold gave the expected huff of annoyance, scowling at her retreating back. He felt really, really, relieved that Mercedes had taken a liking to him. It still seemed a bit likeriding a tiger, fine until the tiger felt peckish.
Mercedes wasn’t kidding,she showered and pampered in no time. She exited wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved top that came right up to her throat. Both looked tight enough to threaten blood flow, except that the soft cloth wouldn’t even be uncomfortable. Except, probably, to any blokes who looked at it too long. As Harold had, he realised, when Mercedes gave a satisfied smirk, posing to give him the full benefit. “Why, ‘Arold, I do believe you are smitten.”
“With a hammer. Between the eyes. Cripes, do you ever take pity on us blokes? Wear a set of baggy camos or a long loose dress?” Harold rolled his eyes. “Have you never heard of leaving a bit of mystery?”
“Blokes and modesty, or mystery? Let’s see, what’s wrong with that? Oh, yes, the blokes part. You all see me naked anyway, in your heads. Be honest, Harold, what do you see in your head when you look at me?” Mercedes said that in a teasing tone, but Harold heard a bloody edge in there.
“Sorry, you’ll need to be twenty-one to see that.” Harold turned to the door, suddenly very keen to get to breakfast. He didn’t need imagination, not with that very clear memory. A laugh followed him out of the door. Mercedes seemed happy with her night’s work.
*
There were eight people already sat round the breakfast table, including Tessa. She looked up and smiled as Harold came in, but her face set as Mercedes eased in behind him and slipped an arm through Harold’s. “Ah, the love-birds.” Caddi looked at Tessa and faked being taken aback. “Oh, you didn’t know. Harold had to sleep somewhere, and Mercedes has this big double bed, so...” He shrugged.
Mercedes smiled sweetly at all of them. “Queen sized, because some men are bigger than others.” She aimed Harold at a seat, taking the one next to him. The quiet girls flitted in and out. Oneput a breakfast plate in front of him, and Harold’s eyes and nose caught up.
“Bacon!”
Caddi gave a huge smile, because he’d got the right reaction. “For special guests only. Now you know where the rumoured pigs went, Harry, but I can only slaughter one every three or four months so even I have to ration it.” So, the gangster had more than one and must have a sow and boar, or access to a boar. “Only for special guests, and you are a very special guest, Harry.” Harry tore his eyes from the plate. He managed to keep a hand from going for his stick when he registered the anticipation in Caddi’s voice.
This anticipation wasn’t a threat. Caddi pulled a huge pile of coupons, held together by a bit of string, off the nearby sideboard and placed them in front of Harold’s plate. “A third of all knicker, commando and topless bets placed, and the ones about her bra since the last sighting of said item. After my ten percent of course. They belong to the man who can confirm all of them. You are a rich man, Harry, since everyone present is certain of what wasn’t under that dress.” Caddi looked at Mercedes. “And we know she didn’t change anything but the dress.” Caddi gave another glance, this time at Tessa. “You could buy another couple of women with this.”
“Paid her debt, not bought.” Harold aimed the reply at Tessa, who blushed as she met Harold’s eyes.
“So she owes you, and how are you expecting to collect the interest?” Bug just had to open his mouth.
“No interest or repayment required for a gift, Bug. That’s something friends do, make gifts.” Harold held Bug’s eyes now, as Tessa flushed again and looked down at her plate.
“Shut up, Bug, we have a serious bet to settle here.” Caddi sat up straighter and the anticipation sharpened. “We know you got a full frontal. You do know that her room is wired for sound and vision?” Harold shrugged nonchalantly, Mercedes had actually told him. “So now you just have to confirm if the fair Mercedes went to bed without bra or without panties last night.” Caddi licked his lips. “Or without either.” All the men were looking at Mercedes, not Harold, while she looked straight at Harold with that little smile.
Harold smiled back at Mercedes. “A gentleman never tells.” They all stared at Harold now. He continued quickly, before someone opened his gob and Harold started a fight. “Not if he ever intends using his nuts for anything other than cufflinks.” After a short pause everyone burst out laughing. Caddi seemed to be just going along. Harold cou
ld see that speculative edge again andwondered howto deflect it. Bug, the gobby shite, did the job nicely.
“You’re like the other pussies, bloody frightened of her. Big bad Soldier Boy is frightened of a bloody woman!”
Thank you Bug, Harold thought, leaning back a little with a big sod-you smile. Harold had seen the momentary warmth in her dead eyes at his answer, more than a flicker, and worth all the crap Harold would get. “Of course I am, you stupid dick. Anyone with two brain cells is scared of Mercedes. You are if you’ve got the balls to admit it.” That would probably mean a fight after all, but Harold didn’t mind slapping Bug down. Slapping Bugatti had been on his to-do list for a couple of years now, and would definitely deflect any other questions.
“But we already know, we could see there was nothing under that dress. She even let you put your fucking hand on it, and then gave you a full flash. What else did you get last night?” Bug actually went bug-eyed as Caddi sat smiling, letting him run.
“Aching balls and a headache, and a night spent sweating like a pig and hoping I didn’t fall asleep and move the wrong thing to the wrong place. As for the hand, I half expected I wouldn’t get it back!” Harold looked at Caddi, willing the suspicious little shit to believe him. “I honestly thought you’d told Mercedes to kill me,that your pet killer meant to push until she got an excuse.”
Caddi relaxed, reverting to his trademark half-smile. “Yeah, we heard, Harry. What was it? Oh, yes. ‘Mercedes, are you going to kill me?’—’What will you do about it?’—’Turn over and make it worthwhile?’—I nearly pissed myself laughing over that bit. See Bug, that’s style.” Caddi laughed properly this time.
The table fell about, and even Tessa smiled but still seemed puzzled. Harold laughed, partly from relief. Mercedes had spoken louder at that moment, but they still hadn’t got her word perfect. She obviously knew what could be heard with her head under the quilt. Mercedes preened, accepting the implied compliment on her lethality and allure.
“Even so,” Bug didn’t want to give it up. “We all know she was commando. Come on boss, pay up! Some of us bet extra after seeing his hand on her ass.”
“No. I can’t pay out on the bets because the rules are clear. Confirmation has to come from a bloke we know had the clear opportunity to see.” Caddi lapped it up. His Killer Queen had just had another layer added to her legend.
“Which nobody else did, Bug, even if you nearly broke your neck trying. Looks like Soldier Boy went one better again.” E-Type had decided to do some winding up himself. It wouldn’t take much, Bugatti had spent over two years being tweaked about Harold capturing him and stripping him to his boxers.
“Only because I’ve not been trying, not properly. Shit, I could settle it easy enough, and show you what a pussy Soldier Boy really is. All it needs is a hand on her ass now, because the bitch has done it again today!” Bug came half out of his chair.
Caddi smirked, and egged Bug on a little.”You have to put eyes on her ass, not hands on her jeans, Bug. That’s if you reckon you can do what we all know Soldier Boy did, even if he’s being bashful. Another free lesson in what a real man can do, Bug.” The bastard knew his troops, leaning forward a bit in anticipation.
Bug finished standing. “Fine. Eyes on her ass. Just because you wankers let her walk around here with your dicks on a leash doesn’t make her the Black Mamba or something.” He started forward. “I’ll just show you all.”
Even as Bug started towards her, Mercedes came smoothly off her chair with a long slim blade in her hand. From her boot, Harold knew, even if nobody else saw it come out. Bug stopped, the blood starting to leave his face. “Bug,” Mercedes purred. “I didn’t ask, and you didn’t even ask me to ask you. Didn’t you learn from Soldier Boy? A girl likes to be asked.”
His rush of blood had chilled, not just cooled, but Bug had already taken two steps from his chair. He had no way forward without bleeding, while retreat screwed his rep forever because Bug wore a knife. That meant he could theoretically keep coming, if he had the balls for a knife fight with Mercedes. It couldn’t happen to a better bloke, Harold thought. He suddenly noticed the rest of the elite around the table, watching Bug as if the gangster was the next Christian going into the Coliseum. Breakfast and the Romans were waiting, eager for blood. Caddi leant back with a self-satisfied smirk.
Harold realised Caddi had prodded Bug just enough. Now the elite’s disappointment about the commando bet had gone, andthey might even get to see Bug killed as a bonus. Bug swallowed hard, his shoulders slumping as the gangster decided on derision rather than that blade. “Sorry, Mercedes. Will you ask me to look at your ass?” A round of hysterical laughter and piss-taking followed, because nobody ever bothered with that question.
“You can try if you like.” Ooh, that wasn’t permission, Mercedes had issued a challenge. “I didn’t get the chance of a trophy last night because Soldier Boy is a light sleeper. So Bug, do you want to try?”
“No, Mercedes.” Bug turned towards the door.
“You should trim at least one ear, Mercedes.” E-Type wore a huge grin. Bug classed as wounded prey in this jungle and the pack wanted a piece.
“Go on Boss, award her both ears and the tail.” The rest hooted with laughter as Charger chipped in as well.
Cooper wasn’t to be left out. “How many bits can you carve off a bug anyway, with all those extra legs...?”
“Bugatti, you little shit, Bugatti not Bug!” Bug whirled and glared at Cooper. Personally Harold thought that had to be as stupid as bracing Mercedes.
“Bug.” The incensed ganger stopped because Caddi’s voice held no humour at all. “I told you again and again, you need to engage your brain now and then. You chose Bugatti, knowing that I am called Caddi, and there’s Chevy and Cooper. In time E-type will be ET.” E-Type shrugged, looking more hopeful than worried. “But you chose a name that shortens to Bug.” Caddi’s voice hardened. “As you seem to have the brains of a bug you’re stuck with it. Mack, go with him and make sure he doesn’t do something that means I have to kill him. He might eventually learn enough to be useful.”
“Okay, Boss. Oy, Bug, come ‘ere.” The subdued young man followed Mack’s broad back out of the door, the big man stuffing the last of his bacon into his mouth as he left. Caddi moved the coupons back onto the dresser with a little shake of his head and a smile.
Mercedes reversed her knife, and as she sat down the point speared a slice of bacon. “Well, if all the excitement is over, I’m eating this while it’s still warm. What about you, Soldier Boy, do you prefer it hot?” Oh, yes, back on script.
Harold looked her over. “I like piggy’s ass hot and crispy. I really fancy something warm and smooth now and again, but not enough to bleed for it.” Harold put a lot of emphasis on ‘really’ and joined in the relaxed laughter. The animals had been fed, even if actual blood hadn’t flowed.
Caddi pushed Bug’s plate across to Mercedes. “Your trophy.” He looked round. “We can’t waste it. In fact, anyone who wastes any of my pig will end up feeding it.” From the looks, nobody could be certain if Caddi meant carrying a feed bucket or being in one, but there’d be no chance of waste anyway. Piggy rapidly became grease stain as everyone tucked into their delayed breakfast.
Mercedes still rubbed it in a little. She carefully divided Bug’s bacon, putting half on Harold’s plate. “To keep your strength up in case you visit again.” The slightly speculative edge in Caddi’s stare came back but Harold had decided that Mercedes did it deliberately, poking the tiger a bit. Maybe as payback for the hoops the bastard put her through. Harold hoped Mercedes didn’t overdo it.
He set into his breakfast with relish. The bread had been fried in the bacon fat, but when people felt happy to get any food, all the fuss about what type was best for them soon died out. Tessa flushed a little when Harold caught her eye but then locked eyes, slid them deliberately to Mercedes and back to Harold, and an eyebrow twitched. Cripes, did Tessa think him and Mercedes were an item? Ha
rold reconsidered as Tessa dropped her eyes again to give her breakfast the attention it deserved.
Mercedes and he were an item. Or as much of an item as the young woman would ever be with anyone while that deal stood, which made Harold a bit uncomfortable. Not the semi-sex, totally unexpected as that had been, but who with. Mercedes had turned out to be a lovely looking woman but something had broken, or been badly bent, inside her head. Those eyes still worried Harold.He wondered what would have happened if they had been face to face, and he’d looked into those dead eyes. He stifled a smile at the thought that perhaps her eyes weren’t dead when Mercedes shuddered and chewed the pillow.
The meal progressed with gentle conversation about the day ahead. Harold suffered low-level teasing about needing nourishment,and having two women to satisfy. Mercedes spread her own version of happiness about, but without the previous night’s edge. Tessa finally stopped giving Harold odd looks, or blushing at the comments about Harold’s women.
Eventually Tessa went up to get her things. Caddi personally escorted Harold to the front door. “We’d better send you home, Harry, or I’ll never get herself back to work. Anyway, you’ve got that one to sort out.” Caddi waved towards the approaching Tessa. “Some radios will be ready in four days, right, and the quickest guns?” Caddi gave one of his insincere grins. “If you’ve got time between all the fondling.”
“Our smith will check the charcoal first to see if it’s the good stuff.” Liz would be almost ecstatic about the charcoal becauseshe never had enough. “We’ll get as many as possible of each ready, but only if we can make them work properly. We don’t turn out rubbish.”
