Just a Little Junk

by Stylo Fantome

  “Mmm,” he moaned, and she shuddered when he reached out and traced a finger up and down her cleavage. “You’ve got something I’d like, too.”

  “Knock it off,” she slapped his hand away. “If you don’t know, then get me a bucket of Bud Light.”

  He paid no attention and his finger went back to between her breasts. Before she could shove his hand away again, though, someone crowded close to her side. She was shocked as Archer grabbed the bartender by the arm and used it to slam him face first into the bar top.

  “She asked you a fucking question,” Archer growled, leaning close to the other man. “So maybe instead of putting your hands where they don’t fucking belong, you answer the goddamn question.”

  “You’re gonna break my arm!” Micah the bartender squealed.

  “If you’re lucky, that’s all I’ll do. Now answer the fucking question.”

  “Uh, uh, yeah … Bernard dude. He, uh, comes in like every other day. Sits around and nurses a beer, hits on the girls. Has a hard on for Jo,” Micah ground out.

  “Why me?” she asked.

  “I don’t fucking know, you have nice tits?”

  Archer lifted the bartender just enough to slam him back down.

  “Mention her tits again – I dare you.”

  “Alright, alright, damn! I don’t know, he just likes you! Asked what hours you work, where you live!” Micah shouted. Jo glanced around. They were in luck; the bouncers and floor managers were busy with a rowdy bachelor party.

  “And you fucking told him!?” Archer exclaimed.

  “No! Of course not! That’s against policy. He offered me a lot of money, but I swear, I’ve never told him shit.”

  “He didn’t say anything else?”

  “Just that he likes her … thinks she’s special.”

  “What else about him?”

  “Jesus, what do you want to know? He said he lives in some apartment off Ventura Boulevard. That’s all I got, man!”

  “Okay,” Archer sighed, then he pressed down harder on the bartender’s back. “Now apologize to Jo.”

  “What!?”

  Another slam on the bar top and Micah improved his attitude.

  “Shit, I’m sorry, Jo. Sorry for everything. Please, forgive me?” he begged.

  “And the money she owes you – consider it paid back in full.”

  “What? It was fifty bucks! No, she has to -”

  One more slam.

  “She’s had to deal with a piece of shit like you having the fucking audacity to look at her, touch her, breathe near her. I think that’s worth more than fifty bucks. In fact, apologize for being a disgusting pig who shouldn’t be allowed in the same room with her.”

  Jo didn’t even know what to do, she was so shocked.. It was crazy – he had Micah’s arm twisted up in some weird Kung Fu like grip, and Archer’s face looked like he was ready to either have a stroke, or commit murder.

  “I’m so sorry, Jodi,” Micah said, and she was pretty sure he was crying. “I’m sorry. I’ll respect the shit out of you from now on.”

  “Archer,” she whispered, tugging at his shoulder. “Archer, let him go. People are looking!” He refused to move, though, obviously still considering murder. “Really, thank you. He deserved this, and it’s awesome. But we have to go, or we’re going to get kicked out.”

  He finally eased off, letting go of Micah’s arm and standing upright. He didn’t back away an inch, though, not even when it looked like the bartender might swing on him. Micah thought twice about it, though, and hurried away, disappearing into the stock room behind the bar.

  “I’m still gonna kick his ass,” Archer promised. Jo nodded, pulling on his arm and dragging him away.

  “Awesome, and I will be happy to watch. But we have to get out of here!” she urged. The other bartender on shift was glaring at her, giving her the death stare. If Jo survived that weekend, it might only be to get fired.

  She walked behind Archer, pushing on his back, guiding him around the outskirts of the room. She directed him down a hallway, then shoved him into an alcove. She stood in front of him, then peeked around the wall, watching what was going on at the bar.

  “What the fuck was that about?” she hissed.

  “What did you expect?” he whispered. “He had his fucking hands all over you.”

  “News flash, Archer – I work in a strip club. It comes with the territory,” she said. A floor manager and a bouncer were at the bar, listening as Micah blubbered away.

  “That shit happens to you all the time?”

  “That ‘shit’ is nothing compared to the real shit I deal with – I’m probably gonna get fired,” she informed him.

  “Good.”

  She whirled around.

  “You know, it may be easy for you to go out and make a buck digging ditches, or whatever it is you do, but this is all I’ve got! What the fuck were you doing? Are you trying to fuck this all up?” she demanded.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” he sounded shocked. “You think I’m going to just stand by while some dude mauls you and touches you like he -”

  “I’ve worked here for years, and you’ve never had a problem with it before,” she pointed out.

  “Jesus, Jo, that was before I … I didn’t know … you and I …” he stammered.

  “Before what? Before you realized I really do work at a strip club? Before you knew that the men who come here treat us like pieces of meat? Before you and I had ‘pretty good’ sex?” she snapped.

  “Hey now, I didn’t -”

  “Just stop!” she held up her hand. “You’re right, we shouldn’t let ‘stupid shit’ get in the way of what we’re doing. So I’m sorry you were drugged into having sex with me, and that my outfit offends you, and that you just now realized how men in strip clubs can act, but I -”

  He grabbed her arms, gripping so tight she let out a startled squeal, but it was swallowed by his mouth. He yanked her close and kissed her hard, surprising every single thought out of her brain. Why was he kissing her? No one could see them, they were in a dark alcove surrounded by red light. They were about as invisible as two people could get.

  “I know how men in strip clubs behave,” he whispered when he pulled away. “And your outfit doesn’t offend me – it turns me on.” He kissed her again, quickly. “And it wasn’t the drugs back at the rave. I knew exactly what I was doing when I had the best sex ever with you.”

  She was stunned, and he took advantage of the opportunity. An arm coiled around her waist, pulling her flush with him, and before she could resist or ask a question or even think, he was kissing her again.

  The first time they’d kissed, she’d been in a panic, worrying about a cop. The second time, she’d been high on ecstasy. This time … well, she was still panicking, and she was at work, and everything was fucked up, but it was different. She was completely aware of him in a way she’d never been before.

  He was so tall. She’d always known that, but it was different being so close to him. Even in her heels, she had to tilt her head up to meet his lips. Was shocked at how strong his arms were around her, how tightly he held her. It made her light headed. She finally had to pull away, or she was going to pass out. She stared up at him, struggling to really see him in the shadows and dark lighting.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” she breathed. “I don’t … what is going on here?”

  “A really bad idea,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw. “That we really want to happen.”

  “But you … you acted like it wasn’t anything special, back at the rave.”

  “I lied.”

  Her mind was blown and when he pulled her around, she went where he moved her. Allowed him to shove her against a wall. Groaned as his hands ran along the sides of her body.

  “Why?” she moaned, lifting her leg to rub it alongside his hip.

  “Because I’m no good for you,” he said, squeezing her breasts. “You deserve someone better than me. That’s why I could never do anythi
ng.”

  “Never? My god, Archer, how long have you been thinking this way?” she gasped. He leaned all his weight against her, pressing his hard on directly between her legs.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I’ve had at least a small crush on you since … remember prom?”

  “I …” she couldn’t even remember her own name. She clawed her fingers through his hair, pulling on the strands at the back of his head.

  “You were sixteen, I was eighteen,” he said, sucking at the sensitive spot behind her ear. “My senior prom. Anthony Skolnick invited you.”

  She’d all but forgotten him. A junior varsity basketball player and loose acquaintance of her brother and Archer, she had been delighted when a senior had invited her to prom. She’d grown tits over the summer and suddenly boys were noticing her. She would have much preferred to go with Archer, but he’d taken some slutty cheerleader as his date. They’d all gone together and had a good time, though her heart had broken a little when he’d left early with the slut.

  I totally would’ve been slutty, if he’d ever asked.

  “You’ve been wanting to do this ever since I was sixteen?” she double checked, then she nibbled on his earlobe.

  “Pretty much. You have no idea how hard it is to be around you sometimes. Do you know how many guys I beat up in high school?”

  “No way.”

  “First Skolnick – talking in the locker room about screwing you after the dance, going to the -”

  “I never slept with him! I was still a virgin!”

  “I knew it,” he chuckled, and the sound rumbled in her chest. “And then Brian Murkel, talking shit about you.”

  “Oh, I totally slept with him,” she laughed. Brian had been her first “real” boyfriend, but also a total dickhead.

  “Shut up, Jo. All these fucking guys, so fucking bad for you. What the fuck?” he asked, circling his hips between her legs. She shuddered in his arms.

  “I wanted you,” she whispered, leaning close so her lips were brushing his. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you. But you never noticed me. You’re always with all these girls, and I was just … there. Just your pal. Why did you do that to me?”

  “I told you,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. “You deserve so many things, Jo. Forget that shitty apartment, this awful job. You deserve someone who can take care of you, and make you laugh all the time, and someone who can make you feel amazing.”

  “Archer,” she laughed, pressing a hand to the side of his face. “You already do all those things.”

  “You’re killing me, Jojo. I can’t …” his voice trailed off. There was no strength behind his words, though, and she didn’t want to bother pushing it. She just wanted to be with him, always. In any way.

  They kissed again, with heat and passion, tongues and teeth, clawing at each others clothing. There was an urgency in their movements, as if they didn’t capture what was happening right that second, it would be gone forever. She could feel it, so she didn’t stop him when he untied the knot of fabric between her breasts, causing her shirt to fall open. She was ready to strip completely naked for him, but a crashing noise and the sound of breaking glass stopped them.

  “What was that?” she panted, looking down the hallway.

  “I don’t know. Shit, someone’s coming,” he hissed.

  She dropped her leg and he shoved her into the corner of the alcove. While she attempted to put her shirt back to rights, he backed into her, blocking her from view. The space was dark, and the red light made it hard to see, but she still held her breath as a group of men walked past them. She recognized one of the guys as the owner of the club.

  “Right this way, right this way,” he was saying in an out of breath voice, leading them into his office. Everyone filed in, but there were too many bodies for the small room. Someone’s shoulder prevented the door from closing.

  “Shhh,” she whispered, pressing her hands flat against Archer’s back. “That’s Buzz Tipton – he owns Bunny Love.”

  “Who are the other guys?” he whispered back.

  “I have no clue. Buzz usually only comes to the club in the mornings – I’ve only met him once or twice. This is weird.”

  They both crept forward and leaned out of the alcove, straining to hear what was going on in the office. But there must have been a particularly acrobatic girl on stage, because the loud music and the cheering drowned out most of the sound. They finally crept across the hallway and stood against the wall, eavesdropping as best they could.

  “I don’t know,” Buzz was saying in an insistent voice. “I don’t know where your guy is!”

  “He was supposed to check in at four o’clock.”

  “Well, it’s almost four-thirty, maybe he just -”

  “In the morning, Buzz. Been twelve hours, and nobody’s seen him. Last anyone saw of him was last night, at our club, with one of your girls.”

  Jo gripped onto Archer’s t-shirt, bunching it in her fists. They were talking about her in that office, and whoever owned the other voice, he didn’t sound very happy. Or nice. She took a deep breath and leaned closer.

  “I’m not their keeper. You think I got tabs on all these broads? Your boy was going through them faster than a junkie goes through smack. Talk to them,” Buzz insisted.

  “Nah, this girl was different. She was a waitress. He’d been sent here to find her,” the other man explained.

  Jo gasped so loud, the person in the doorway moved. Archer swore and immediately started back pedaling, shoving them backwards down the hall. Just as the office door swung open, they turned the corner, disappearing from view.

  “Jesus, Jojo, are you trying to get us killed?” he hissed, grabbing her by the hips and propelling her through the club.

  “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she was chanting, moving on autopilot. He drove her back to the dressing room, and this time he ignored the “employees only” sign. He walked her straight back into the changing area, earning some yells and catcalls from the dancers who were wandering around.

  “Jo,” he said, whirling her around when they stopped at the far end of the room. “Snap out of it! We’ve got shit to figure out.”

  “Okay,” she took several deep breaths. “You’re right. Fuck, why was he sent here for me? Why me?”

  “We’re going to figure that out, just calm down,” he said, keeping his voice soft. She realized he was running his hands up and down her sides, trying to soothe her.

  “Alright, I’m trying,” she told him, nodding her head.

  He kept murmuring soothing words, kept petting her. She looked around the room, praying a bouncer hadn’t seen them. Customers were strictly forbidden from entering the dressing room. She was thankful when she didn’t see any large enforcer types lurching towards them. Most of the girls didn’t seem to care about Archer’s presence, and the ones that did were too interested in his good looks to kick him out. One particular girl was raking him over with her eyes, and a light bulb went off over Jo’s head.

  She abruptly pulled away from Archer, startling him. She didn’t pay any attention, though, and walked across the room quickly. The eye-fucking stripper, Beeshonn, did a double take at her approach, then smiled.

  “Hey, Joey-girl!” she preened. “You tryin’ out for the stage?”

  Jo was confused at first, then she looked down at herself. Her shirt was still hanging wide open, showing off her black lace bra and D-cups. She nodded her head.

  “Uh, yeah. Totally. I mean, the money looks so good, and the guys you pull!” she laughed.

  She wasn’t making that part up – Beeshonn was known as the whore around the club, and which was saying a lot considering where she worked. If Bernard Krakow had really been sleeping with the girls at Bunny Love, then Beeshonn would’ve had a crack at him.

  “Tell me about it, sweetie. But looks like you don’t have a problem in that department,” she said, looking back at Archer. “Who’s your, uh, friend?”

&
nbsp; “Him? Old friend of the family. He was asking about you – want his number?” Jo offered.

  “I would love it. I like ‘em big and tall,” Beeshonn growled.

  “Oh, he’s big and tall all over. Tell you what, wanna trade numbers?”

  “You want my number, too?”

  “No,” Jo stepped closer. “There’s this guy, he’s been hanging around the club. Real cutie, big spender. I was hoping you maybe knew his number, or knew where I could find him.”

  “Sure, who is it?” Beeshonn asked.

  “Bernard,” Jo said casually. “Comes in during the days a lot, so I keep missing my chance.”

  “Oh, Krakow! You sure? I mean, yeah, he’s a big spender, but dude is kind of a freak. Does a lot of coke, gets ripped and wants to do crazy shit,” Beeshonn warned her.

  “Good thing I like crazy shit. Do you think he’s busy tonight?”

  They grabbed some paper off the counter and exchanged information. Beeshonn was even kind enough to scribble down Bernard’s address – an apartment, right off Ventura. Just like the bartender had said. Jo recommended that Beeshonn wait to call Archer till the morning, when he would be at “peak” performance. Then she scampered back across the room.

  “I’m super glad you’re chill enough to have girl talk, Jojo,” Archer growled. “But do you realize that at any second, a group of unhinged men could storm in here and carry you off for all sorts of rape and torture?”

  “I know, I know, but I know her, and she’s a total slut bag. I got Bernard’s home address!” Jo whispered in excitement as she shoved the paper into his hand.

  “You’re shitting me,” he gasped. She shook her head and bent over, sliding down her stockings as she kicked off her heels.

  “Not shitting you. I feel like for the first time all day, we’ve made some real progress!” she told him, shoving her skirt over her hips. She let it pool at her feet while she slipped her top off her shoulders.

  “Progress, yeah, uh …” his voice trailed off and she stood upright, wondering what was going on. She found him staring at her body and she looked down at herself. She was standing in front of him in only her underwear.

  “What?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips. “You’ve seen it before.”