Disciplining Little Abby (16 page)

It rang three more times while they were standing in line and might have rung more, but once they were inside, the music was too loud for Abby to hear it any longer. The idea that she was being disobedient sent little shivers up her spine, but they were nothing compared to the burning, aching sensation between her legs when she imagined how Chris would punish her for it. It annoyed her that even when she was out on the town with her best friend, she couldn’t stop thinking about him or their twisted games, but she felt powerless to stop it. Not even the thumping bass coursing through her body or the sweaty crush of bodies on the dance floor seemed able to chase away images of his lightly scruffed jaw or the tattoos that covered his shoulder… or the feel of his bare hand crashing down upon her bare bottom.

It was after one in the morning when they finally left the dance floor and collapsed at a table near the bar. Abby’s feet had been threatening mutiny for the past hour thanks to the borrowed heels, but she was glad she’d agreed to come. It had been years since she’d been out dancing with friends, and she’d forgotten how much fun it was, even if she couldn’t quit thinking about Chris. The only downside was the ever present cigarette smoke in the air, and she confessed to Amanda that the urge to light up was driving her crazy.

“You don’t really want one,” Amanda told her, waggling a finger under her nose. “Trust me, I remember sneaking a smoke after I’d quit for a few months, and it tasted like shit. Besides, I don’t want to have to call your sponsor on you again.”

Abby’s breath caught. “My sponsor?”

“Yeah, you know, what is it, Smokers Anon? Greely? Green? I don’t remember now. She came in one day right around when you first quit. Left me her card. Said to let her know if I thought you were stressed and needed extra support.”

Abby’s mouth fell open, and she smacked her palm across her forehead.
Of course
. She’d thought Mr. Green had some kind of fancy surveillance equipment or perhaps hacked into the security cameras. Instead, he’d simply tricked a coworker into ratting her out.

Amanda’s mouth twisted apologetically. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I mean, I thought he would have told you I called.” Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Did I screw up? I just wanted to help. I know how hard it is to quit.”

“No, it’s cool, I just forgot about it.” Abby tried to appear nonchalant, but inwardly she seethed at the deception Mr. Green had used to get her own friends to tattle on her.
I can’t get away from it
, she fumed silently, wondering who else they’d lied to in order to keep an eye on her.

Abby wasn’t used to drinking, and the three tequila shooters she’d downed in the past hour began to work on her reasoning. Deep down, she knew Chris wasn’t to blame, but she was more than a little drunk, and the slight irritation she’d felt all evening as a result of constantly thinking about him quickly warped into anger. Suddenly every aspect of their relationship seemed twisted and wrong, and she felt a stab of envy for all the apparently normal people dancing and drinking and enjoying normal lives around her.

“Buy you another?”

She looked over her shoulder and saw an attractive man in his late twenties or early thirties staring hopefully at her. Clean-shaven and tall with broad shoulders, he looked like a man Eva would be thrilled to date. To Abby he seemed the epitome of a normal guy, the type of guy who opened doors and would never lay out rules or dish out discipline or treat grown women like children.
I bet he wouldn’t lie to my friends to get them to tattle either
, she thought petulantly.

“How about a Disaronno on ice?” she said in her best flirty voice. She could feel Amanda’s questioning eyes studying her across the table but kept her gaze glued to him as he hurried towards the bar to retrieve her drink.

“Careful, Abby,” Amanda warned. “That one looks like trouble.”

Abby waved a hand dismissively. “You said we were going to have fun, and I’m having fun. If he wants to buy me a drink, more power to him.”

“He wants to do more than buy you a drink. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“I’m a grown woman. I think I can handle him,” Abby shot back, irritated that even Amanda seemed determined to treat her like a child.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t. Just don’t think you should is all.”

“Why, because no one is buying you drinks?”

Amanda shot her an incredulous look. “I’m going to ignore that because you’re trashed, but promise me you won’t leave with him no matter what, okay?” She shoved back from the table and stalked off towards the restroom without waiting for a reply.

Abby couldn’t believe what she’d said, but before she could run after Amanda and apologize, her new admirer reappeared with her drink and took a seat beside her. Tentatively she sniffed the glass. She’d never tried Disaronno, but she’d liked the commercials and it sounded like something an adult would drink. It smelled wonderful, a hint of cherries and vanilla with sweet almonds, and tasted even better.

“I’m Mike.”

“I’m Abby,” she replied, embarrassed that she’d practically snatched the drink from his hand without so much as a thank you. “Thanks for the drink. I was pretty thirsty.”

“Haven’t seen you here before.”

Abby resisted the urge to squirm as his eyes roamed lazily over her. He made no effort to hide his desire, even licking his lip when his eyes landed on her propped up cleavage, and it made her uncomfortable.

“First time,” she said.

His lips twitched into a slight smile and he nodded approval. “The first time is always the best,” he said. Abby knew she was expected to say something to that, some sort of witty or flirtatious comeback that would make him laugh and ask her to dance, but she wasn’t good at that sort of thing. She settled for taking a long drink and staring longingly at the dance floor, hoping he’d take it as a cue to ask her to dance. At least on the dance floor they’d be too close for her to see him undressing her with his eyes.

Instead he slid his chair closer to her and brushed an imaginary hair away from her eyes. “What do you say we get out of here?”

Before she could react, she felt his lips brush against her neck just below her ear. The shockwave that coursed down her spine sent her leaping out of her seat. Her earlier confidence evaporated, and she found herself nervous and unsure. With Chris she’d always felt safe and protected—and humiliated and unbelievably aroused—but Mike made her feel like a fawn inside the lion’s cage.

“I have to pee!” she blurted out just as Amanda returned to the table. “Hold my purse!” She thrust the clutch into Amanda’s hands and bolted for the restrooms. Halfway there, the room began to tilt, and she barely made it to the door without falling. Once inside she quickly locked herself in a stall and flopped down on the toilet, one hand braced against the wall for support as her eyes struggled to focus. The alcohol made it impossible for her to think straight, but she knew no good could come from letting Mike continue to put the moves on her. At the same time, she wondered how much good could come from staying with Chris. Her mother was right. Only a pervert would be attracted to her.

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she whimpered softly.

* * *

Amanda sized up the man sitting across the table. She’d seen him at the club before, had even spurned his advances a time or two, though she doubted he remembered it. From what she’d seen, he preferred his ladies drunk, and the way Abby stumbled towards the restroom made it clear she was his kind of girl.

“She’s not going home with you,” she told him. “I know you think she’s really drunk and fair game, but she’s got a boyfriend.” The words were barely out when he stood up and grabbed his drink. “I’m serious!” she snapped. “Leave her alone!” His response was to ignore her completely and head across the club towards the restroom hallway.

“Fuck!”

Amanda was still a little pissed at Abby’s rude remark earlier, but no matter how hurt she might be, she’d never leave a drunk friend alone to fend for herself. Plus there was just something innocent about Abby that made her feel protective. Tomorrow she would rip her a new one, preferably while she had a raging hangover, but for now she needed to get a leash on her friend before things got out of hand.

The clutch she’d loaned Abby was barely big enough to hold her cell phone. Amanda was surprised to see Chris was the only contact programmed into it. Calling him for backup wasn’t her first choice, but she didn’t know who else might be willing to run to Abby’s rescue. To her relief, he answered on the first ring.

“Abby, are you okay?”

“Chris, it’s Amanda.”

“Where’s Abby?”

“Listen, don’t be mad okay? Abby’s with me.”

“Where are you? I’ve tried calling her half a dozen times.” The worry in his voice was unmistakable, and Amanda doubted what she had to say next would make him feel any better.

“We’re at the Eight Oh. She’s really drunk, and I could use some help.”

“She’s drunk.” It was more of a statement than a question, and the worry in his voice was now tinged with irritation.

“She’s a total flyweight,” Amanda insisted. “If I’d known how low her tolerance was, I would have made her stop after one, but we’re way past that now. Look, can you come here? There’s this asshole guy that won’t leave her alone, and she’s mad at me, and I’m afraid if I turn my back on her for a second he’s going to drag her out of here—”

She heard the line go dead just as Abby stepped out of the bathroom. “Get your ass here quick, Chris,” Amanda muttered, desperately hoping he’d hung up and ran for the door rather than just hung up. From where she sat, she could see Mike or Mark or whatever his name was moving in for the kill, and she didn’t know if she’d be able to get Abby away from him.

* * *

Abby emerged from the bathroom and ran smack into Mike’s chest. Before she had time to blink, he pushed her back against the wall and leaned in to kiss her. His breath was a curious mix of smoke, whiskey, and orange Tic Tacs, and his smooth upper lip stood in sharp contrast to Chris’ light mustache. Instinctively her lips parted beneath the insistent probing of his tongue, but when her own tongue began to explore his mouth, alarm bells began going off in the back of her mind.
Shut up
, she thought angrily, and even in her thoughts, her voice was slurred and dull.
Shut up. This guy is normal. He wants normal sex and probably a normal cigarette afterwards too, and so do I!
As if to prove it to herself, she flung her arms around his neck and pulled him tighter to her.

“Abby, Chris is on his way.”

The words were like a bucket of ice water in her face, and she shoved him roughly away.

“What the hell?” Mike snapped. Her abrupt change of heart had clearly thrown him off his game, and his eyes narrowed in annoyance as he glared at Amanda. “Can’t you find someone else to bother?”

Abby covered her mouth with her hands and turned her eyes to Amanda, who only shook her head and held a hand out to her. Abby reached out to take it, but Mike moved faster. Grabbing Abby’s hand, he pressed her fingertips to his lips and kissed them lightly as he retrieved a pen from his pocket. Ignoring Amanda’s protests, he quickly scribbled a phone number on Abby’s palm.

“Give me a call when you don’t have a babysitter,” he said with a wink, then turned and left the two girls standing in the hallway.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so wasted, I don’t know what I was thinking,” Abby babbled. Amanda said nothing, simply wrapped her arm around Abby’s shoulders and guided her through the club and back out into the cool night air.

“It happens. I’m just glad he gave up so easily. I’ve seen guys get into fistfights over a drunk girl. That’s why I called Chris. There was no way I was going to let him take you out of here.”

Abby closed her eyes and turned her face into the slight breeze. She’d gone out knowing she’d be in trouble, relishing the idea of the spanking she would earn, but this was more than she’d bargained for. Or was it? She wondered if perhaps the real reason she encouraged Mike was because she wanted to push Chris to his limit.

“Amanda, I’m so messed up,” she whimpered, slumping against her friend for support. Amanda tried to shush her, but she was too drunk to stop. “I’m sick. Just ask my mom.”

“If you’re going to be sick, do it in the trash, not on me. I just got this dress,” Amanda warned.

“No, not… I’m sick in the head. That’s why Chris, he’s sick too. Oh God, I miss him.” Her head swam and for a moment she thought she might actually be sick, but her stomach settled back down.

They waited outside the club for nearly fifteen minutes, though it felt like hours to Abby. By the time she heard him call out her name, the worst of the alcohol had worn off.

“I got here as fast as I could. Are you okay?”

“I don’t feel good,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed.

“Thanks for coming,” Amanda said. “I managed to run that guy off, but she really needs to go home.”

“Thanks for calling me. I can take it from here.” Chris wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently guided her back down the sidewalk towards a waiting cab. With one hand protectively over her head, he helped her into the backseat and then quickly went around to get in on the other side.

“I was worried sick,” he said tersely as the cab wound its way back onto the now empty street. “I called you three times, and when you didn’t answer, all I could think was that something had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” she lied. “I never heard it ring.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped. For a moment she thought he was going to go off on her, but instead he took a deep breath and leaned back against the seat. “We’ll discuss this tomorrow after you’ve sobered up. Right now I just want to get you safely to bed.”

* * *

As the cab wound its way through town, Chris held her close and stroked her hair. He’d been furious earlier, right up until he’d gotten the call from Amanda. Since then he’d just been worried sick, his mind filled with unwelcome images of spiked drinks and gang rapes and things too dark to even consider. Now he was just grateful she was okay, though in the morning they were going to have to have a talk. She’d been growing more and more out of control ever since they’d gone to her family dinner, and it was starting to concern him.