Casting Stones (Stones Duet #1) (5 page)

While I watch the television screens broadcast a replay of tonight’s game and ignore the trembling of my hand, I’m acutely aware of her presence behind me.

“Hello, Mr. Davis. Good to see you out tonight.”

I turn and am greeted by her plump tits, practically hanging out of her dress. She’s attractive, there’s no doubt. But I’m all set with the ‘boil-a-bunny’ type. Been there. Done that.

“Hey, Dana. How’s it going?” I respond cordially. There I go with the rhetorical question bullshit. I don’t give a shit about how she is.

Her eyes rake up and down my body again and she licks her lips. “It’s all right. I like letting my hair down every once in a while.”

“Cool.” A clipped response slips through my lips.

“Are you enjoying your night out?” She moves in close to whisper in my ear, leaning her body toward mine. “Because you know…you could be enjoying your night buried deep in me.” Abruptly, a disorderly and very drunk man knocks into Dana, causing her to spill her drink down the front of her tight dress.

“My bad, babe. My bad. Let me help you clean that up,” he offers, slurring his words while he eyes her tits.

“What the hell, asshole! Fuck off!” she screeches in his direction.

He staggers away

“Take this,” she slurs as she thrusts her martini in my face; its contents sloshing over the side. She reaches around me and asks the bartender for a cocktail napkin.

I place her drink on the bar.

“
You
can have a taste if you want. I won’t mind.” She presses her body against mine and purrs like a cat.

“Listen, we work together. That’s not a good idea.”

She looks down to wipe the spilled alcohol from her chest before looking back at me. “Work. Play. What’s the difference?” She tilts her head to the side and shrugs her shoulders.

I step back, widening the space between us. “I don’t mix business with pleasure.”

She eyes me skeptically, pouting her red-stained lips. “That’s too bad Mr. Davis because playing at work is so much fun.”
I’m sure that’s what the last guy thought, too.

“Let’s go, boys. We’re outta here.” Eric announces, saving me from rejecting her once again.

Brandon, a shop teacher from work, walks up and looks at Dana. His eyes trail up and down her body. “Dana”

She smiles. “Hey, B. Haven’t seen you in a while. Call me.”

I inhale deeply once we’re outside, but it’s not a cleansing or refreshing breath. The August air is thick and heavy with moisture. We walk another few blocks as I watch the city lights pass by until I see an illuminated sign that reminds me of Cinderella, my niece’s favorite Disney movie.

“Welcome to Boston,” Eric howls as we bypass the long line and I follow him into the packed club, dimly lit with purple LED uplighting. Tall, marbled pillars are roped off as if standing guard around the shiny pole affixed in the center of the stage. On the side, I see two smaller stages with a pole, encased by a metal cage. A strip club. I love sex just as much as any other guy, but coming to a strip club is pointless. To watch some woman dance around naked isn’t appealing to me. It’s not like you can touch them; I mean
really
touch them.

A waitress in a string bikini welcomes us and offers a drink.

Brandon grabs her ass when she walks by.

“That’s extra, baby,” she purrs.

I glance around the large room and watch these men dig deep into their pockets to spend their money on these girls. Sure, their bodies are beautiful, but they’re dirty. The more I think about it, I would never fuck a stripper, let alone touch her, not even with a ten foot pole.

“C’mon, Davis! It’s your birthday. Go for it!”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“Dude. You only turn twenty-one once in your life.”

I remember suppressing a cringe when the stripper gyrated on my lap. The smell of cheap perfume was enough for me to offer her money to go dance for someone else. The guys gave me a hard time and called me “Pussy Boy” from then on. They said I must’ve been missing some guy gene or had a low level of testosterone, but I disagreed. Getting a girl to spread her legs for me wasn’t ever a problem. I never wanted anything more until Mia.

“Dude! Wait until you see the tits on Jade! Fucking perfection!” Brandon cups his hands as if he’s fondling them before closing his eyes and sticking his tongue out like he’s licking them.

“Yo, who haven’t you bagged in Boston?” Eric asks and slaps Brandon’s back.

“Your wife!” Brandon guffaws, but Eric narrows his eyes in fierce warning.

“Watch it, asshole. That’s my
wife
you’re talking about.”

Brandon reaches down and cups his dick. “One taste of this, she’ll leave your ass for good.”

“Fuck you!” Eric shoves Brandon against the wall.

This is the problem with alcohol; it’s turns some people into assholes.

“Easy, fellows. Easy.” I step in between the two men. Brandon laughs again and apologizes, saying he’s just messing around. Eric glares at him in response. “Once. Only once will you disrespect my wife.”

I follow behind Eric, using myself at the buffer between these two guys. We find a couple of vacant seats at the bar and sit down as the music roars to life. All I can make out is the loud thumping bass and a song about “making her say it.” Who listens to this shit anyway? My mouth is dry and I really need to drink some water, but I can’t exactly do that in a strip club so I order a cold beer instead.

Within minutes, as the music changes, a voluptuous older woman struts onto the stage and begins a sultry and erotic dance, keeping every shake of her ass and spread of her legs in tune with the music. Brandon has no qualms about stepping close and shoving a twenty into her thong. His hand is quick as he runs it along the inside of her leg, attempting to reach in between her legs.

“Baby, you can look, but you know you can’t touch!” The dark haired woman with legs seeming to stretch for miles caresses his face, steps back and continues her sexual prowess.

A deep voice asks the crowd to give a round of applause to the woman as she saunters off the stage before he announces that the highly anticipated “Jade” will be ready to perform. He tells us to sit back, relax and enjoy the ride of a lifetime.

As the lights shut off, the entire bar is completely cloaked in darkness until a strobe light flickers wildly, illuminating the stage to reveal a small figure descending down from the center pole. Whistles and cat calls come from every corner and seem to bounce off the walls, begging her to begin.

Quick flashes of a strobe light illuminate the space and suddenly a feeling of warmth spreads through until it reaches my neck. My throat constricts as my ears begin to flame. I blink my eyes rapidly as I try to breathe through the panic beginning to course within me.Instinctively, I look for a way out. I look for the closest exits, but I can’t find one.
Fuck. Not now. Not now.
I yank off my hat, scrub at my scalp before pulling it back down hard, covering my eyes so no one will see the fear and anxiety creeping in. Breathe. Breathe. A quick shiver runs down my spine and I cock my head from side to side, cracking my neck.

“Can I get a water?” I ask the bartender whose plump tits and curvy body are squeezed together in her a small red bikini. She nods as she grabs a bottle of water from the stainless steel mini-fridge. I guzzle it down and swallow the tablet I’ve pulled from my phone case. Dreadful thoughts drift away as I focus on the stage.

Taking long deep breaths until I feel the anxiety dissolve, I’m mesmerized when the woman on stage finally stops and methodically unbuttons her black trench coat, letting it fall to the floor, revealing a slim waist and flat stomach. She pulls the black hat low, shielding her face as she starts to move with the music, sticking her leg straight in front before she angles it back to grip the pole. In one swift motion, she’s around the pole, gripping it with gloved hands while her legs spread apart for our eyes. Lustful eyes. Greedy eyes. Lustful, greedy eyes.

The woman with long, red hair commands the stage. She swings around and disengages from her position on the pole to straddle the floor before she crawls onto her hands and knees, keeping her lithe body close to the floor like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. The crowd goes wild when she turns around and circles her ass in the air, gyrating wildly; the thin, black string disappears between her curves. Her hands roam all over her body, tempting and teasing us. My hand moves to wrestle my dick down. I don’t want to be turned on. I hate the thought of all these men staring at this woman with one thing on their minds. This woman, as classless and derogatory as she is, is someone’s daughter. Someone’s sister. Maybe even someone’s mother.

Anger and the need to protect her rise within me. I want to rip the velvet curtain down, cover her naked body and hide her away from these fucking perverts, but I don’t. I can’t. I’m just as guilty as the rest of them. Countless bills, tens, twenties even hundreds, are thrown in her direction as she continues to dry hump violently against the pole.

I order a shot, and then another, just to turn away from the woman in front of me who is no different than a twenty dollar hooker.

“Yo, I gotta take a piss.” I clap Eric’s back.

“Again?” he laughs.

“Yeah, I got a small bladder,” I answer sarcastically through my laughter.

"You sure you were in the Army?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” I snort as I make my way to the men’s room while the highly anticipated entertainer continues to dance, showing every bit of her beautiful body carelessly, recklessly, for all these men and some women to see.

After a thunderous applause, complete with whistles and jeers, I pull the door open for a drunken guy who’s laughing and shouting about how he’d love to fuck that tight pussy and how he’d love to have one taste of the elusive Jade. He says he’d have to get a second job to afford her.

“Did you see how she looked at me?” he asks his friends who’ve followed him in.

She’s a stripper, asshole. She gets paid to look at you that way. She doesn’t want you; she wants your money.

“My bad, bro!” He slams his hand against my shirt when he realized he bumped shoulders with me.

I toss my hands in the air, letting him know we’re cool as I step aside to let the rest of them come in.

“Did you see what she did at the end? Fuck me! I almost blew my load just from watching it.”

I shake my head, wondering what specifically he’s referring to as I walk down the narrow hallway. There’s a moment of commotion as a whir of red crosses my path while the woman named Jade is cocooned by two, huge black guys.

“Get that motherfucker out of here!” One huge, angry man bellows while the other ushers Jade into the dressing room. Just before the door is shut, she turns back and looks straight at me. Beneath the black feathered hat, I catch a quick glimpse of beautiful eyes that are filled with nothing but complete fear. I know the look. I’ve seen it too many times before.

“YES, SIR,” HE
gurgled as I pulled him toward me, protecting his body from even more damage. I unstrapped his helmet and cradled his bloody head. I bit the inside of my lip to prevent my lips from quivering. I had to be strong. I had to be strong for both of us.

“Now you listen to me. You.Are.Fine. I’m going to get your ass home to your wife. Okay! Do you fucking hear me?” I gritted my teeth and got in his face, praying that he would listen until help arrives.

“Yes, sir…yes, sir…tell my wife— ” Vacant hazel eyes stared into mine as he fell silent, drawing his final breath.

I AWAKEN WITH
my aching head against the porcelain bowl and my naked body slumped against the tub, covered in vomit. What the fuck?

Dragging my sorry ass up into the shower, scalding hot water washes away the remnants of last night. I don’t know what happened; I don’t usually drink that much. The last time I got that drunk, I screwed a psycho blonde in a bathroom and lost the only girl I ever loved. I swore I’d never drink that much again. Never mind that I’ve been advised countless times by medical professionals about the adverse effects of alcohol and drugs.