Authors: Jade Allen
****
"There sure does
seem to be a lot of trucks here," she said as she came to Damian's side.
He made an affirmative
sound that she did not find terribly reassuring and took her by the elbow to
guide her toward the back of the building. This was a place he had obviously
been many times before because he led her directly to a door on the back brick
wall that she would never have noticed in the darkness and pulled it open.
Immediately a wave of
yellow light, the smell of cigarette smoke and beer, and the sound of a country
song being fed through a meat grinder washed over her. She hesitated and Damian
eased around her, giving her a gentle tug so that she would follow him inside.
They stepped into a brightly lit area with a cracked linoleum floor and wood
paneled walls. A door to one side marked the entrance to a kitchen and two
doors on the other wall had little vinyl stick figure drawings that indicated
the men's and women's restrooms. In between these doors was a tiny table with a
single chair and a dusty-looking silk flower in a narrow bud vase.
"What is
that?" Nixie asked.
"The non-smoking
section," Damian replied.
"Charming."
"Come on,"
he said, smiling as he reached for the handle of a second door in front of
them.
As he pulled the door
open, the smell and sound intensified and Nixie had to take a moment to
assimilate herself. She had spent plenty of time in bars, but they had been
more of the cocktails-and-flashing-lights-type bars. This one had the distinct
feeling of the corner destination that wives would often lose their husbands to
and that was the receptacle for countless drowned hopes, dreams, and sorrows.
They walked up a dark
blue-carpeted ramp into the main section of the bar. Just as they reached the
top, the horrific song ended and a smattering of applause rippled through the room.
Nixie took another step into the bar and suddenly she felt every pair of eyes
in the space turn to face her.
She stood in a sea of
cowboys and women of ambiguous ages who appeared to be made of tanned leather
that had been lightly tinted with fluorescent orange. They all stared at her
intensely, taking in her long black hair, brief black dress, fishnet hose, and
high heels to Jesus. A few eyes flickered to her red fingernails and matching
lipstick. The bravest settled on the black crystal drop pendant that nestled in
the swell of her ample cleavage.
"Oh, lord, they
look like they think the Angel of Death has come for them," she muttered
to Damian.
He laughed and reached
down to take her hand. His hand felt warm despite the chill of the air outside
and she enjoyed the rougher texture of his skin against hers. She let him guide
her further into the bar. As they walked she noticed that someone had climbed
up onto a small carpeted platform at the far end of the bar and was clutching
the microphone in front of him like he was preparing to breathe life into it.
Holy hell, it's a
karaoke bar. A karaoke bar filled with cowboys. At least that explained the
frightful music when they first came inside.
"So this is your
idea of fun?" she asked as they slipped onto the stools around a high top
table toward the front of the bar.
"Yes."
"Fantastic,"
she said, glancing around for a drink list, "and do you sing?"
"Only once I have
enough tequila in me."
"What, you don't
drink moonshine?" she cracked.
He narrowed his eyes
at her.
"You don’t drink
blood?"
"Fair enough.
Speaking of libations, how do we get service around here? The bartender seems
to be a little on the busy side."
Damian scoffed.
"You only use the
bartender if you are sitting at the bar ordering a beer. If you are sitting at
a table, you use Missy."
He gestured and
seemingly out of nowhere a woman with approximately six shades of blond hair
and a chest that made Dolly Parton look dainty appeared beside our table.
"Damian! How're
you doing, Honey?"
"I'm good, Missy.
How's about a couple of shots?"
Missy turned to
evaluate Nixie and Nixie had the sudden feeling that she was continuously being
stripped down and brought up for inspection. She glanced at Damian who smirked
at her.
Maybe being stripped naked wouldn't be so bad as long as he was in
the room.
"And who's
this?"
"This is my new
friend Nixie."
"I'm just sure
she is," Missy said, pivoting and walking away.
"What did she
mean by that?" Nixie asked.
"I’m sure she
didn't mean anything by it."
"No woman ever
says anything without meaning something by it."
"Oh, really? And
why do you say that?"
"Because all
women are bitches. All of them. Every single last one of them."
"That seems like
a fairly pessimistic perception of your own sex."
Missy sidled back up
to the table and settled two shots along with a bowl of lime wedges between
them. Nixie picked up one of the shots and tossed it back.
"I'm just a
realist," she said, hissing through the burn of the tequila.
Damian laughed and
took his shot with a bit more poise and control than Nixie had, sucking a lime
wedge after. His eyes met hers as his mouth pulled across the wedge, the tip of
his tongue slipping out to run across it as he took it from his lips. Her body
tightened and she licked her lips unconsciously.
Missy appeared back by
the side of the table and put two more shots on the table, this time with a
touch more force than was probably necessary, but even the clink of the glass
hitting the wood didn't pull Nixie's attention away from Damian's mouth and hot
chocolate eyes. He reached over and took her fingers in his hand again, gently
pulling her off of the stool toward him.
****
Damian was sitting
facing her and as Nixie stepped down from her stool and toward him, he parted
his knees so he could pull her to stand between his thighs. His hands came to
her full hips and kneaded gently into them. She sighed and leaned closer,
letting her body brush against his.
"You know,
everyone is looking at you," he said softly, "It's not every day a
woman that looks like you comes in here."
"Oh,
really?" she said, nudging her hips against him subtly, "and what
exactly is it that I look like?"
"The pin-up model
of the damned," he said and laughed softly, "Luscious," he ran
his hands down her soft waist and the swell of her hips accentuated by the
tight black wiggle dress. "Tempting," he cupped his hands around her
plump ass and pulled her in a little closer. "Sexy as hell."
"Let's give them
a little more to look at."
Nixie reached beside
her to pick up a wedge of lime and the saltshaker. Tucking the lime into his
mouth so that he gripped the rind between his teeth, she ran her tongue along
the side of his neck and coated the damp skin with salt. She picked up one of
the new shots and leaned against him. Damian groaned as she licked the salt
from his neck, took down the shot, and then bit down into the lime in his
teeth, sucking the juice into her mouth.
His hands tightened on
her hips and she felt him harden at the front of his pants. He released her hip
with one hand and reached between their mouths to remove the lime, tilting his
face up so that his lips settled onto hers. She sighed and relaxed into the
kiss, bringing her hands to the back of his neck so she could hold on to him as
he parted her lips with the tip of his tongue and explored her mouth. After a
few seconds she pulled back slightly and ran her tongue along his bottom lip.
He tasted just as sweet as his eyes looked and she dipped in for another kiss.
"I leave you
alone for five minutes and this is what happens."
Nixie's mouth tore
away from Damian's and she turned to see Patrick standing beside their table.
In her indulgence of Damian's hot chocolate eyes and citrus-flavored tongue,
she had completely forgotten that Patrick was supposed to meet them and the sight
of him suddenly standing there startled her. The look of him against the
backdrop of the cowboys with the strains of a heartbreaking Patsy Cline ballad
made all the more painful by the fact that it was sung by a woman who seemed
almost incapable of standing was somewhat disorienting.
She glanced down at
Damian's watch and then back at Patrick.
"Technically it’s
been forty five minutes. You're early."
"I managed to
claim emotional distress and get out of my shift early."
"Emotional
distress?" Damian asked, "Is that a legitimate excuse?"
"You would be
surprised," Nixie said, running her fingers through the thick, silky hair
at that nape of his neck and leaning in to touch a soft kiss to his lips again.
"I'm just going
to take this seat right here," Patrick said.
He squeezed between
Nixie and the stool she had recently vacated and hopped on.
"I guess you're
just going to have to sit right here," Damian whispered against her hair
and turned her around to lift her up into his lap.
Patrick picked up one
of the slices of lime and sucked on it, grimacing at the sour flavor.
"I need something
with a little more substance. I think I'm going to make a visit over to the
bar."
Patrick hopped down
again and started over to the bar.
"Is he going to
be ok?" Nixie asked.
Patrick weaved his way
through the crowd of men standing three deep at the bar and slipped his way in
between two to stand up against the edge. Some of the men gave him confused,
appraising looks, but none seemed outwardly disturbed at his presence.
"Yeah, he's going
to be fine. Cris'll take care of him."
"Cris?"
Damian gestured to the
bar and Nixie saw a strong-looking woman with short hair the color of flames
step up to Patrick. She gave him a grin and patted him on his cheek.
"Everywhere he
goes, he collects people. It's pretty impressive."
"I bet you get
your share of attention."
Damian's mouth was
tucked close enough to her ear that she felt his lips move across it as he
spoke and his hands grazed against her generous thighs. She nestled into his
lap and felt him twitch in response.
"I got your
attention," she said.
"Not just
me," he replied, "You have this entire room in the palm of your
hand." She looked at him skeptically. "You don't believe me?
OK," he turned so that she was facing the stage and could see the man
standing at the microphone, waiting for his song to come on so he could sing.
"That is my buddy Remy. Look at how he's watching you."
Nixie saw Remy's eyes
burning into her, scanning her hungrily as the first notes of a song built
around him. It was not a country song like the last string of karaoke
performers had attempted, but a metal song that brought much the same shocked
stares from the assortment of men throughout the bar as she had when she first
walked in. He licked his lips and she moaned softly. Remy was just as beautiful
as Damian and filled out his jeans in the same irresistible way.
The song's
introduction ended and Remy started to sing. His voice was rich, deep, and just
growly enough to send a shock through her core and make her wriggle slightly in
Damian's lap. Damian made an approving sound and lifted his hips just enough to
press against her.
"You like him,
don't you?" he murmured into her ear.
Nixie bit her bottom
lip and ran her hand down to the side of Damian's rock-hard thigh, digging her
nails into him. Remy continued to stare at them, his gaze on her getting hotter
and more intense the longer he sang. Damian ran his hand up her waist, just
barely grazing along the underside of her breasts as he dipped his mouth to nibble
on her earlobe.
"Well I think I
have just enough tequila in me to get me up on that stage. What do you say we
let Remy take care of you while I sing?" Nixie turned to look at him, her
eyes searching his. He smiled at her and kissed her. "Don't worry. I'll be
right back."
He kissed her again,
scraping her bottom lip between his teeth as he pulled away from her. The song
ended and she heard Remy put the microphone back into its stand. Damian
carefully eased her off of his lap so that she stood beside him. He stroked her
face gently and walked toward the stage, giving Remy a meaningful glance as
they passed.
Nixie's belly trembled
as Remy approached her. The faintest hint of a smile curved his full, soft lips
and his smoky grey eyes slumbered at her from under long, dark lashes.
"Hi," he
said as he got to within a few steps of her.
His speaking voice was
just as sexy as his singing voice and she felt a tingle between her thighs.
"Hi," she
said back, her voice dropping so low she didn't know if he could even hear it.
Without another word,
Remy's hand came to her stomach and he led her backward a few steps until her
back touched the wall behind her. His mouth crushed down on hers and she felt
her body respond immediately. She ran her hands up Remy's chest, feeling
chiseled muscles beneath the soft fabric, and onto his neck so she could bury
her fingers in his hair and hold his mouth against hers.
****
Nixie whimpered into
Remy's mouth, putting a voice to the desire that had been building since she
first saw Damian. He gripped her hips tightly, pulling them against him so that
she could feel the already-hardening erection pressing toward her. A moment
later she felt him pull her away from the wall so she was up against his chest,
led her sideways a step, and then pushed her back.
She expected to hit
the wall again, but instead, she felt her body come into contact with someone
else. His hands came to her ribs and she felt him ease her back so that she
rested her head against his shoulder. She breathed in the scent of Damian and
her body tightened again as if seeking their touch.
"It seems that
someone else got to the DJ before I did," he said into her hair, and then
kissed the side of her neck.
"Who?" she
managed to say through her labored breath.
The opening strains of
"These Boots Were Made for Walking" game over the speaker and she
knew exactly who. She opened her eyes and glanced around Remy's shoulder to see
Patrick in the middle of the stage, his back to the rest of the bar and his
hips bouncing to the beat.
"Oh, lord."
Patrick suddenly
whipped around and started singing, his heart pouring out every ounce of Nancy
Sinatra he could muster as he performed a dance that looked like this was not
the first time he had done this song. She waited for the redneck renegades to
start an uprising. Instead, it seemed that Patrick's retro venture had touched
something inside them and several of the women streamed onto the small dance
area in front of the stage to reminisce about their teen years. Many of the men
were nodding their heads and she even saw a few mouthing the words.
Well, damn. Patrick
was apparently the cowboy pied piper.
"I don't even
know what I'm supposed to say right now," the DJ said over his microphone
as Patrick dropped to his hands and knees and started crawling across the
stage, "I usually heckle new people, but I just don't even have any words
for what's happening."
"I think that he
has found his new home," Nixie said.
She felt Damian's arms
encircle her waist and he bent over slightly so that he molded to her body.
"I guess that
means we have a little bit of time on our hands. Let's take a walk."
"A walk?"
she asked, her hand coming up to cup the back of Damian's head as the tip of
his tongue played across the curve of her neck and shoulder.
When Remy first
pressed her to the wall she had felt the eyes of everyone in the bar on them,
but now that Patrick was in full diva mode she probably could have taken off
all of her clothes right then and no one would have noticed. No one, of course,
but the two men she very much wanted to notice her naked.
"Mmm-hmmm,"
Damian murmured affirmatively, "That field across the street backs right
up to Remy's ranch. I've walked through it a thousand times."
Nixie leaned her head
back to afford Damian better access to her neck and bent her knees slightly so
she could stroke her body against him. Remy's hands were still gripping her
hips and she felt his thumbs massaging in circles into the front of her pelvis.
"Is Remy coming
with us?" she asked breathlessly.
Damian let out a soft,
short laugh and kissed her shoulder.
"Why don't we let
Remy stay here and keep an eye on Patrick there while he regales the bar with a
few more numbers?"
Nixie nodded and Remy
leaned forward to catch her mouth with his, slipping his tongue between her
lips again. She wrapped her free hand around the back of his head so that she
held both men, her body closed tightly between them.
When the kiss ended,
Remy backed away from them and Damian led her out of the front door of the bar.
The glow of the neon sign made shadows on the ground but it offered just enough
light that she could see the edge of a field stretching into the darkness
across the street.
Damian held her hand
as he led her across the street and into the grass.
"Why is there a
bar across the street from a ranch?" she asked, trying to navigate the
grass but having a difficult time in her spiked heels.
"The ranch was
here long before the bar was," Damian answered, walking calmly and
securely across the field, "Some kin to Remy started a tavern here more
than a hundred years ago, then once the travelers stopped staying there, they
turned it into a bar."
She nodded and the
gesture took her concentration away from walking enough that one heel sank into
the ground and she stumbled. Her hand grabbed for Damian and he caught her,
sweeping her up into his arms so that he cradled her against his chest. She
squealed and he gave a deep laugh before taking off at a faster pace into the
darkness of the field.
They had gone on for a
few more minutes when Nixie noticed the dark outline of a barn ahead of them.
Damian carried her to it, releasing the arm that supported her back long enough
to open the door and carry her inside. The interior of the barn smelled sweet
and earthy, and provided a barrier from the chilly breeze outside. Damian
reached beside them to touch the wall and she saw an electric lantern turn on
so it filled the space with a warm, comforting glow.
He carried her a few
more steps forward and then she felt the strong support beneath her disappear
as he tossed her forward. She let out a short scream, but a second later she
landed in a deep, soft pile of hay.