by W E DeVore
Charlie started to say something, but Q shot him a furious look and he quickly backed down. After Jessica had walked away, he asked, “So what kind of freaky shit do you think old lady Multer is into?”
Q told him about the invitation she had been given at the end of the night, and the private business card. He took a long, thoughtful sip of his whiskey then said, “Sounds to me like Mrs. Family Values likes her some pussy.” He winked at Q. “Can’t say as I blame her.”
“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: You are a pig. Now, get your damn lap dance, so we can get out of here.”
Charlie grinned and nodded to one of the men on the floor. When he came over, Charlie handed him the VIP card and pointed to a statuesque black woman with the most beautiful set of unnaturally perfect breasts Q had ever seen. The dancer was currently in an incredible back bend on stage, doing what looked to be a perfect vertical split.
This shit should be in the Olympics.
Q watched the floor man walk over to the future gold medalist to help her off the stage. Jessica came over and talked to both of them, pointing to Charlie and to Q.
Q said, “I think we should go, Charlie.”
Charlie was staring in the opposite direction at the woman doing an impressive horizontal split, while simultaneously grinding the floor of the small stage beside them.
“I was promised a lap dance, Q,” he said without looking back at her. “And I ain't leaving without one.”
Before she could reason with him, Charlie’s dancer of choice strode over and stroked the side of his face.
“I have something special for you, handsome,” she purred into his ear. Charlie grinned and winked at Q.
“The perks of being a VIP,” Charlie said, as he was willingly led from his seat to the long stage in the center of the room. The floor man placed a chair in the center of the stage and Charlie’s dancer placed Charlie into the chair.
‘Welcome to Jungle’ came blaring over the sound system and the dancer straddled Charlie, luridly moving her hips. He leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head, relaxing back, as if having a nearly naked woman grind on him in public view was the most natural thing in the world. The dancer arched her back and did another of her impossible backbends until her hands were on the stage. She effortlessly flipped onto her ten-inch heels and continued her dance.
Q looked at Charlie. His eyes were locked onto the dancer, still completely at ease, and oblivious to anyone else in the room. She strutted her way to the pole at the end of the stage and gracefully climbed it, before executing a maneuver that an Olympic gymnast would be hard pressed to achieve successfully, let alone with the amount of eroticism she imbued into it, and wearing the shoes she had on.
Once she had landed back on the stage, she began to perform a series of languid backflips until her crotch was directly in front of Charlie’s mouth. She spread her legs and arched her back further, before suddenly slamming Charlie to the floor, straddling his neck. Charlie’s head hit the stage hard and Q rushed over. The dancer stood up and winked at Jessica who was watching from backstage. Jessica, in turn, flipped Q off and disappeared into the darkness.
Q jumped on stage as several men hooted, “Take it off, girl!”
Charlie lifted his head, dazed. “What the hell just happened?”
“Dude, that stripper just laid you out,” Q said while she helped him up off the stage and onto the floor. She had just managed to get Charlie nearly stable on his feet, when two floor men stalked over.
“Time for you two to leave,” one of the burley men said as he and his companion roughly pulled Q and Charlie away from the stage. They were half-dragged, half-carried through the crowded bar and out onto the street. Charlie glared at Q as they were unceremoniously deposited onto the filthy sidewalk.
A meaty hand snapped in their faces. “Card. Now.”
Charlie fished the VIP card from his back pocket and placed it into the awaiting paw, then glared at Q. “You take me to the nicest places.”
She helped him stand up and guided him off Bourbon and down the nearest side street. They ducked into an oyster bar and found a table.
When a tired looking waiter approached them, Q said, “Two beers and a dozen raw.”
The waiter nodded and walked away.
“How’s your head?” she asked Charlie.
“It fucking hurts,” he complained, rubbing the back of his head and grimacing.
“Serves you right,” she said.
“What did I do?” he asked defensively.
The waiter returned with their drinks and their oysters. Q began fixing hers with a swath of horseradish and hot sauce.
“Don’t you ever put your hands on me again, Charlie Bourdel.” She swallowed the salty mollusk, savoring the simultaneous burning in her nose and on her tongue.
Charlie slid an oyster onto a cracker and popped it into his mouth, grinning at her while he chewed.
“Oh come on, you loved it,” he said around his mouthful.
Q glared at him and ate another oyster. Charlie took a long pull on his beer and said, “You and me both know Bordelon couldn’t find your clit, even if it had a neon sign pointing to it.”
She shook her head and refused to be baited. “You are really threatened by him, aren’t you?”
He leaned back and replied, “I got nothing to be threatened about, if you feel me. Which, you are welcome to do, if you are so inclined.”
Q paused and looked Charlie in the eyes to be sure he was paying attention. “You know why women throw themselves at Ben? It’s not because he’s tall or because he’s so ridiculously good looking, or because he’s charismatic…”
“Get to the point, Q,” Charlie interrupted.
She ignored him. “…It’s because he looks them in the eye when he talks to them. He respects them and doesn’t treat them like a pair of tits and an ass. You could learn a thing or two about that.”
He squirmed slightly in his chair and took another drink of beer. He looked off to the side and pretended to watch the replay of the basketball game on the TV behind the bar. “I always figured you for a hellion in bed. Still waters and all that.”
She held up her hands in helpless frustration. “Did you even hear a word I just said?”
“I heard you.” He looked at her. “And I get it. But it doesn’t change the fact that I figured I’d get a chance to find out for myself one of these days.”
She blushed and looked down, smiling despite herself.
“Just tell me he sucks in bed and I might still have a chance.” Charlie took another sip of beer.
Q sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine, he’s terrible in bed. You might stand a snowball’s chance in hell.”
He nodded in satisfaction and ate a cracker. “How bad did you lie to me just now?”
“Bad.” She started fixing another oyster, absent-mindedly licking some hot sauce off of her fingertips.
Charlie winked at her. “Like I said, a hellion.”
“Baby, you have no idea.” Q popped her oyster into her mouth and smiled at Charlie. He burst out laughing and raised his beer in admiration.
~~~
Q crawled into bed, dreading the next eight hours alone.
I can sleep all by myself. I am a big girl.
She lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead. She argued with herself for several long minutes, until someone knocked on her door.
She raced out of bed and threw the door open only to be greeted with a wave of disappointment. Niko stood on her doorstep with a bottle of wine.
“Peace offering,” he said, holding it out to her.
She exhaled out her displeasure and let him in. “Niko, it’s late, what do you want?”
Q turned on a lamp and sat on the window seat.
“I felt bad about the other day. Wanted to make sure you were alright.” Niko sat down in the chair across from her, still holding the bottle of wine.
She
crossed her legs and leaned against the cool window pondering the very un-Niko-like behavior she was witnessing. “I’m fine, ok?”
He set the bottle of wine down on the floor. “How’s the Nora Charles act going?”
Q softened slightly at her favorite movie reference, but tried to hide it from Niko. “You come here to accuse my best friend or my lover with more heinous crimes?”
“Damn, Q, I said I was sorry. I just hate seeing you put yourself out for Pete all the time.”
“And Ben?”
Niko looked away for a second before saying, “I don’t like him. There I said it. I think he’s bad news and you should stay away from him.”
She pointed to the door. “Out.”
“Q, listen to me, I’m just looking out for you.” He leaned closer. “I’m the only one in your life who’s not trying to use you for something.”
She let a rueful laugh escape her throat. “Really, Niko? How many times have you been late with rent the last year? Do you know, or even care, what I’ve been through with John because of you? Niko looks out for Niko. You know it and I know it, so drop this whole ‘I’m concerned for your emotional well-being act,’ because you and I both know we’re only friends when it’s convenient for you.”
Niko was quiet for a few seconds before he finally spoke. “You’re right, baby doll. You’ve been a really good friend. You helped me get my pad. You’ve hooked me up with jobs. So, let me be a better friend to you now. You’re different since you’ve been with Ben. I’d hate to see you change yourself just to make some man happy.”
“I’m different because I’m happy, Niko.” Q yawned. “Look, it’s late. I’m beat. You’re forgiven, ok?”
He flashed his lightning white smile. “How about we go to brunch tomorrow and you can fill me in on all your new theories about who really killed Veronica Denton?”
Q rubbed her eyes. “Maybe. Thanks for the wine. I really am tired though, ok?”
He stood up and kissed her on her temple before walking out. Q chained the door behind him and plodded to her bed. She had just fallen face first into her heavenly cool sheets, when her phone vibrated wildly on the nightstand. She picked it up without looking at the caller ID.
“I just left the Cove before closing on a Saturday night for the second time in thirty days because of you.” Ben’s voice slipped through the speaker and vibrated against her eardrum.
His simple request suddenly slapped her across the face. “I forgot to call you.”
Silence.
“Oh god, Ben. I’m so sorry. Charlie got taken down by this stripper and we grabbed some oysters after. I just forgot.” More silence. “Ben, I suck at this. I’m trying, really I’m trying. I just don’t know how to…I’ve been alone for such a long time and I…”
“You gonna come down here and let me in? Or are you expecting me to sleep on your porch?” Ben asked.
She dropped her phone on the nightstand and hurried down the three flights of stairs to the front door. Quickly turning the key in the interior foyer door’s deadbolt, she flung the door open. Ben was leaning sideways against the mahogany paneling. She hurled herself into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He kissed her, carrying her back into the house. He set her back down on the stairs and they climbed up to Q’s apartment in silence. As soon as they were inside, she began to guide him to the bed.
Ben resisted and sat on the window seat. He exhaled deeply. Noticing the bottle of wine Niko had left on the floor, he picked it up and carried it to the bar.
Opening it, he said, “I know it’s late, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to hear about how Charlie Bourdel got taken down by a stripper, and what that has to do with oysters, before I can even think about getting some sleep.”
She grinned and wrapped her arms around his torso, burying her face into the back of his suit coat. “You’re not mad?”
Ben took one of her hands and kissed it before turning and handing her a glass of wine. “Right now I’m too relieved to be anything but glad to see you.” He walked over to the bed and began to undress. “Charlie. Stripper. Details. Now.”
They lay in bed with their wine, as Q detailed the events at The Dollhouse. Once Ben stopped laughing and regained his breath, she handed him a tissue so he could blow his nose and wipe his eyes. She continued with the conversation at the oyster bar and ended with Niko’s accusations of the previous evening, and his apologies minutes before Ben’s arrival.
He chuckled and drained his glass of wine before lying back and grasping Q to his chest. “So Charlie thinks I’m bad in bed and Niko thinks I’m bad for you. What do you think?”
“I think they’re both wrong.” Q yawned deeply, barely able to keep her eyes open. Her eyelids began to flutter. She was asleep before she heard his reply.
Call in the Cavalry
Q awoke during the middle of an incredibly vivid sex dream involving Ben, Charlie and the abnormal use of a bottleneck slide, to find herself halfway to orgasm. Ben’s tongue was drawing tight figure eights around the area of her body that Charlie was convinced Ben would need a neon sign to find.
She arched her back, threading her fingers through his long hair trailing over her stomach. Ben grasped her hips and clasped her firmly to his mouth. Q moaned and covered her face with a pillow so she could cry out as loud as she currently needed to, without waking up her neighbors. Her climax hit her body like a tsunami and she seized against it.
Before her body stopped quivering, Ben climbed back up to kiss her. He took the pillow from her and tossed it over the side of the bed before slipping a long finger inside her and putting his thumb directly on her clitoris.
So there, Charlie Bourdel.
Q trembled. She played with his tongue with hers, tasting herself on his lips. Ben withdrew his fingers and wrapped both of his hands around hers, pinning her to the bed. She spread her legs and raised her hips in anticipation as he slipped inside her.
Ben cried out as he penetrated her fully. Each thrust brought them both closer to orgasm. He moved with purpose, focused on his own climax. She wrapped her legs tightly around his hips and let the wave wash over her, feeling her own body erupt as Ben’s emptied into her. He lay heavily on top of her and she sank into the bed with satisfaction.
“Is that your idea of breakfast in bed?” she joked, tracing his spine with her index finger.
He looked down at her and smiled. “Thought you could use a better way to wake up after yesterday.”
She instinctively flinched at the memory of her nightmare but the warmth around her sunny bedroom alcove instantly dissolved it into an elusive thought she couldn’t quite remember.
Ben moved to lie next to her and she grasped her legs more tightly around his waist, whining, “No. Stay.”
They kissed for a few long minutes before she reluctantly let Ben go and he left the bed to make coffee. She lay back into the pillows and stretched, enjoying the fan’s breeze cool her slightly sweaty t-shirt. She watched him fill the pot, admiring his muscular legs and back. “My god, you’re a beautiful man, do you know that?”
He started the coffee and filled a glass with water, bringing it back to bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress and took a long drink before setting it down on the nightstand.
Turning to face her, he said, “I want you with me all the time, Q. I know you’re not ready to think about this. Just know that when you are, you just have to show up. That’s all. I made a mistake once and let someone I loved slip away. I won’t make that mistake again. Not with you.”
Q reached for the glass of water and took a long drink. “You want to tell me about it?”
Ben shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that I never loved her like I love you. And you got me. Hook, line and sinker, you got me. Understand?” She nodded. “Good. Now that we’ve cleared that up, I think it’s time.”
“Time for what?” she asked nervously.
“Time for you to meet the hens.
”
Her stomach dropped. “By ‘hens’ do you mean your sisters?”
Ben nodded. “Tonight. Barbecue at my folks’ place. The whole family will be there. Brace yourself. It’s a big one.”
She shook her head and Ben continued, “Look, either we go tonight and get it over with or it’s only going to get worse. I’ve missed Sunday dinner four weeks in a row, they won’t put up with a fifth. I come without you and my life will be hell on earth until they get their way. You love me?”
Q nodded.
“Then save me from a fate worse than death and let my family get a look at you.”
She started to giggle and then couldn’t stop. She thought about all the madness of the past few weeks and realized she was more terrified of meeting Ben’s family than meeting Urian in a dark bar or being in a strip club with Charlie Bourdel.
Your perception of reality is seriously out of whack.
“Well, since you put it like that, how can I possibly say no?” Q kissed him and climbed out of bed to get them both some coffee, slipping back into her underwear on the way.
She had just poured them each a steaming cup when her phone vibrated on the nightstand. Ben brought it to her and she answered, not recognizing the number.
Pete’s voice sounded like it was being broadcast from the outer moons of Jupiter. “Clemmie, it’s me. Are you there?”
She dropped her coffee cup and it shattered on the floor. “Pete? Is that you, baby? Where are you?”
Ben moved quickly to clear the wreckage from the floor. Q lightly stepped over the broken shards in her bare feet and moved around the room, trying to get better reception.
“Clemmie, I can barely hear you. Look. I got your texts. I can’t come back. I barely made it to the cabin before Bessie up and died. I’m using an old bike in the shed to run back and forth from town for food.”
“Pete, where are you? I don’t even know where that damn cabin is. The police are looking for you, but you need to stay put until I can figure out a way to get you out of this,” Q implored.
