Punk and Zen (32 page)

“I laughed? No way!” I said, looking at Fran and Dee
Dee to either confirm or deny. I didn’t remember that at all.

“Stop wiggling!” Fran exhorted as Dee Dee deftly
exchanged the less-bloody-than-before rag for another one—this one full of ice.
Ugh. I gently pushed Fran’s hands away.

“I’m fine—look—it’s stopped.” I indicated the towel
that was now only faintly spotted with pink.

“C’mon…for me?” Fran wheedled.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I capitulated,
but only because you never deny a lady a direct request.

Fran gave me a self-satisfied smile and patted my
shoulder. Great. Awesome. Now I was a good dog.

Jerkster kept rehearsing that block and punch (well,
technically it was a palm-strike, not a punch) with Jen, while Dee Dee stepped
to the other end of the bar. She came right back with two shot glasses.

“Here,” she said, sliding them over, “this is good for
you.”

I eyed the little glass warily. Whatever was in one of
them looked a lot like bloody mud with a bit of grass sprinkled on top—and I
was pretty sure ABC I’d already had my daily limit of that taste. The
other looked like clear glue with little things suspended in it. I glanced up
at Dee Dee, who had fixed me with that firm look of hers.

“I make special for you,” she warned me.

Dammit. Another direct request. “Okay, all right, I’ll
drink it,” I groused. I handed Fran the rag and returned my attention to Dee
Dee, only to find her eyes still frying me. Damn, I thought, she would have
been ideal as one of the nuns I’d known back in high school. I picked up her
concoction.

“You have to swallow it all in one go, or it’s no
good,” she advised.

Yeah, that just figured for me. I took a deep breath;
I had the feeling I was going to need it. I brought the rim to my lips, and in
the split second that the gloop was in the air before it hit the back of my
throat and swallowed, I knew this was a bad idea.

Oh My
God
! Nose? What nose? I couldn’t feel my
fucking nose because my throat closed, my ears burned, and my eyes were on
fire. Who the hell cared about anything else? And then there was the hot eel
sliding down my chest. Jumping out of my seat, I did an impromptu little
dance—it might have looked like I was praying for rain or suffering from
chicken pox in my crotch.

“Christ, what the hell is that, Dee Dee?” I gasped,
choking. “Is that horseradish and cough syrup?”

“Jagermeister,” Dee Dee nodded, “and whiskey and Tabasco
with some little, little herbs for flavor.” She made a sprinkling motion with
her fingers, rubbing them back and forth.

“Flavor? Flavor?” I coughed again and hoped
desperately that I wouldn’t spit out a lung or a kidney. “You should serve that
with a fire extinguisher!”

Dee Dee laughed long and loud. “After that shot you
took? Nina, you shouldn’t taste anything—but you do, because you are
berserker.”

She laughed again while Fran seized the opportunity to
put the ice back on my face. “C’mon, baby, your face is gonna bruise, and you
have a show coming up,” she reminded me. She was right, and she knew I knew she
was right, so I let her freeze my skin.

“I am
not
berserk,” I said to Dee Dee with as
much dignity as I could muster from under the towel and Fran’s firm hold.

“Hey, it’s a compliment,” Jen walked over and told me,
Jerkster following her.

“Yeah, a compliment,” Jerkster seconded. “’Cuz, like,
the berserkers were, like, these German-Scandi-cold-weather dudes who went
totally nuts when they were in a fight. They were, like, the ultimate warriors,
and you could tell who they were because they would laugh the whole time, and
then, after ABC that, they were okay again.”

We all looked at him in amazement. I’d never heard so
much information about
anything
come from Jerkster at one time.

“What?” he asked, looking around at us. “I used to be
into heavy metal. There’s at least one song on every album all about it.”

That was it, that was the living end, and I started
laughing so hard my nose started bleeding again.

“Well, that’s about right, anyway,” Dee Dee said, as
impressed as the rest of us. “Now drink this, too,” she requested, pushing the
other shot glass to me.

“Does this one also require any special equipment or
precautions?” I hadn’t totally recovered from the last one and wanted to keep
the few taste buds I had left.

“Funny, funny,” Dee Dee mocked lightly. “No, that one
was for your blood, strong for strong. This one is for you—for your spirit,
that it stays fiery but sweet.”

That was about as much reassurance as I was going to
get, so I went for it. This time, instead of downing it, I sipped and was
rewarded with a pleasant tingle.

“Cinnamon?” I asked as I put it down.

“Cinnamon schnapps,” Dee Dee corrected, “with gold
flakes. The best for the best.”

“I like it,” I commented as I took a final sip. No,
really. I liked it a lot.

“You would.” Dee Dee smiled at me. She collected the
glasses from the bar and put them in the sink, then gave the bar a good
wipe-down. I watched her for a bit—Dee Dee and her endless supply of spotlessly
white bar rags.

I sat there with the towel on my face while Fran
stroked my hair. “You okay?” I asked her again. “What happened?”

Fran sighed. “Nothing. She was just a little drunk and
a little disappointed, I think,” she answered. “And it looks like you’ve
cemented her disappointment.”

I put the rag down to gaze at her directly. “Did I,
now?” I asked dryly.

Twining my arms around her waist, I gazed into her
almond eyes, then down at those lips that curved into the slightest of smiles.

“Can I kiss you hello?” I asked her, the heat of her
body wrapping around me like a fog.

“Please do,” she pressed against me, “my hero.”

“Whatever it takes.” I was instantly rewarded with the
feel of that incredible mouth against mine, followed moments later by the
warmth within it.

“Careful, careful,” Fran cautioned, pulling away.
“Your lip is cut, too.”

I ran my tongue carefully around. She was right—I
could taste the blood. “I don’t feel a thing,” I told her, and pulled her
closer.

“Good, because your lips are way too far away from
mine,” she purred, then proved it. Her fingertips dug strong lines along my
neck and shoulders as mine outlined her shoulder blades. I would have loved to
have done the natural thing and reached for her amazing ass, but I wouldn’t do
that in a public place—that wasn’t something I felt a need to share with the
world.

“Harumph.” Dee Dee coughed none-too-subtly behind us.
Yeah. I was supposed to be working, not making out. “So I was saying…I think I
should send you home tonight.”

I whirled to face her. “No, Dee Dee, I’m fine, there’s
no need—”

Dee Dee held a hand up. “No, you should get some rest,
and besides, it’s quiet tonight. Francesca, you’ll take good care of her, no?”
She looked at her directly.

“Absolutely,” she smiled, “she’s in good hands.” She
took mine in hers to prove it.

“I thought so,” Dee Dee nodded, “so here,” she gave me
my bag from behind the counter, “and here,” she pushed some money at me, “so
you can get a car home—you shouldn’t be riding around on trains and ferries.”

I stared at the money, then tried to give it back.
“Dee Dee, I usually walk to the boat. Besides, I’ve got money.”

“You got hurt at work, no?” she asked rhetorically.
“So work pays to send you home. Now go,” she shooed me away, “and let Francesca
nurse you!”

I watched as her lips quirked just the slightest bit
at her last words. Uh-huh. There was a faint whiff of something in the air, and
it wasn’t cinnamon schnapps.

But you know what? I didn’t want to argue. “All right
then, thank you,” I told her. “’Night, Jerkster!” I called as Fran dragged me
to the door.

“Hey yeah, see you tomorrow!” He looked up from his
intense study of the jukebox and waved.

Jen was already outside in the street hailing us a ABC
cab.

“Thanks, thanks a lot.” I grinned at her when a yellow
car stopped.

“Yeah, you’re welcome, kid,” she said, “get some rest.
And you,” she nodded to Francesca, “don’t let her fall asleep too early—she
might have a concussion.”

“No worries,” Fran answered as I opened the door to the
car. “I’ll take good care of her.” She got into the car and slid along the
seat.

I gave Jen a sharp glance. She was being way too nice,
and her lips had the same slight quirk Dee Dee’s had. Uh-huh. Weird.

I got in the car and stuck my head out the window.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked, giving her the this-is-way-too-weird eyebrow
raise.

“When the sun’s up, kid,” she promised with a smile,
“when the sun’s up.”

“Cool,” I answered, and waved good-bye. I settled into
my seat, and after we told the driver where we were going, off we lurched into
traffic.

“Come, put your head down,” Fran smilingly invited,
patting her lap, and I complied.

“You know,” she commented thoughtfully, “that’s the
second time you’ve shed blood for me.”

I shrugged in response as I settled against her. What
could I say?

She threw her peacoat over me. “Got to keep you warm.”

I brought her face to mine. “You do that well enough.”
I grinned and kissed her softly. “And I promise, the third time will be
interesting.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve your head,” and she
kissed my forehead, “or this beautiful face,” and she kissed my cheeks, “or
these lips,” and this kiss was delicate and tender and worked its way into
something much more intense. I was so deeply into the consummate sensuality
that was her kiss that when her hand slid down my stomach and into my
waistband, I thought nothing of it—until the car stopped short.

“Kitt, baby, what are you doing?” I whispered to her
as her fingers tickled even lower and the car moved on.

Her fingers stroked lightly against my pussy, teasing
me, caressing me with promise. “I’m not supposed to let you fall asleep, so,”
she explained as her fingers slipped between my lips, “I’m taking care of you.”

I felt the moan that was trying to make its way out
and reached up for her head to bring her lips to mine. “You are evil,” I
whispered before I let that moan out into her mouth.

Her tongue mimicked her fingers as she slowly stroked
the length of my swollen cunt. “God, you are so fuckin’ hard,” she breathed
into my mouth.

“Francesca…” I murmured in half-hearted protest,
“we’re in a cab.”

“Then you’re going to have to lie still and be quiet,”
she answered as she rapidly fingered my clit. Damn, but she felt good. Fine.
I’d be quiet. It wasn’t going to be easy.

Her hand stilled on my pussy as she shifted positions.
“Did you know,” she whispered throatily, “that I can place one, two, three
fingertips,” and she paused as she did it, “along your clit when you’re this
hard?”

Between the words and the actions she had me ready to
explode in my pants, and when I felt her hand move again, the sensation was so
fuckin’ intense as it bolted through me that I stretched my head back against
her.

“God, baby, what are you doing to me?” I groaned. Fuck
the driver—if he didn’t know what had been going on before, I was pretty sure
he did now, and I didn’t fuckin’ care.

She nibbled along the line of my neck, and I rolled
against the added sensation before she answered. “I’m jerking you off.” She
smiled into my eyes, then kissed me again. When the steady pull on my clit
became that cunt throb that lets you know the edge is getting close, all I
could think of was her pussy descending on mine, swallowing my clit. I wanted
to do that so badly, I thrust my cunt against her hands as she pumped me good
and fast.

“Yeah, baby, just like that,” I groaned out. “God, I
want to be inside you.”

I heard her breath catch. “You’re making me so fucking
wet, God,” she growled. “Whatever you want, do that when we get back.”

She was jerking me off so good, nice and hard and
tight around my clit, and that combined with the thought of her wet pussy
waiting for me—I couldn’t even answer her as I thrust hard and came into her
hand, my face pressed into her chest and my fingers rapidly playing her hard
nipple.

I kissed her chest and climbed my way up her neck to
her lips, straddling her thigh. “We’re not done yet,” I told her, and slid my
tongue between her welcoming lips. I tongued her mouth exactly the way I
planned to taste her pussy as soon as we got to her place, but I was going to
have her right then and there because her kiss told me how bad she needed it.

I undid the top button of her jeans and slid my hand
down, knowing I’d find her wet and waiting. I wasn’t disappointed. Her cunt was
an ever-thrilling combination of hard clit and soft open pussy, and I tickled
ABC through her slick lips for a second before I found her clit with my
thumb and thrust two fingers into her hungry cunt.