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Authors: Mercy Walker

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BOOK: Big Girls Get the Blues
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Quinn

 

I stood there on the street in front of the South Side VFW, watching Bev’s tail lights disappear as she turned onto East Carson.  The overwhelming feelings I’d been trying to resist had dragged me here, against my better judgment, and had pulled me to her, so close to pulling her to me and kissing her again.  That had been all I’d been thinking about for the last five days since I’d last been with her: kissing her, touching her, making love to her.

I’d been a pussy whipped idiot to come there, to her freaking work—and I let her old man deck me.  How pathetic is that?

I’d let those feelings rule me, and I was throwing myself at her like a love sick teenager.

But then my fingers found that scar in the back of her beautiful nest of red curls.  I didn’t know what it meant, but when she’d whirled around on me, I recognized the look.  I’d recognized the tone of her voice when she’d warned me to get away from her.

If she’d had a gun, she would have shot me.

And what that all added up to in my head made my blood run cold.  Bev had been abused by someone…probably a man—probably a boyfriend.

I gulped down the bile that wanted to churn up in my throat.  If I’d been on the force, and she’d been a vic, I would have turned her over to a female officer trained in domestic abuse…and then I would have given the bastard a “Tune Up” down in lockup.

But this was real life, and whatever had happened to Bev had been a while ago.  But I’d brought it all back to vivid, horrifying life for her just by touching that scar.  I leaned down in a squat and held my head in my hands. 

The last thing I’d wanted was to hurt her.  That’s why I’d been staying away from her all week, giving her the space she seemed to need.  After all, I wasn’t going to be there more than a month.  And as soon as Teddy came back she wouldn’t ever have to see me again.

But sooner than
I liked
I wanted to see her again.  I needed to see her again.  And truthfully I’d thought that since half the staff had already gone to her and pleaded with her to come back…even scary as hell Tammy Fay…that she would have came back already.

I mean, the club obviously couldn’t run right without her.  She seemed to be the glue that held it all together.  And I was just the shmuck that was filling in for both Teddy and her, and I couldn’t mix half the drinks the customers ordered.  I didn’t even know what muddle meant, or what a jigger was.  So the copy of the bartender’s bible I’d found behind the bar was a jumble of confus
ing
recipes.

Who would have known that a gaggle of barely clad women could be so much
trouble?
  They seemed to loyally love each other deep down, but if one of them borrowed a stick of lipstick without permission, or if anyone tried to infringe on another’s slotted dance time—the fur flew.

I’d had to physically breakup three cat-fights this week.  If I had to try to get between anymore buxom, mostly naked women again, I was going to need more therapy.

How had Teddy done it?

I knew the answer even before he’d told me over the phone from his vacation—which my sister had turned into a destination second honeymoon.  The kids were staying two weeks with my parents, and two weeks with Teddy’s in rural Ohio.  Poor kids…

His answer had been that Bev handled it all.  She kept the cocktail waitresses in line, happy and hustling.  She was all the bouncer he’d ever needed, though he did employ one mammoth gorilla at the door as a visual deterrent.
  If there was a customer getting out of line she’d either go over and smooth the whole thing over with a dimpled smile and a free drink, or she’d lean down, whisper something in the guy’s ear, and he’d either leave in a hurry, or turn pale and settle down.

All Teddy had to do was order the booze and keep the kitchen’s pantry stocked with appetizers and burgers for the more veracious customers.
  
 

Even my sister, Teresa, knew how much of her husband’s business was run by the redheaded bartender, and she’d given me an ultimatum. 

“Get Bev back behind that bar or I’ll slice off your balls and serve them for Thanksgiving!”

What was it with everyone threatening his balls? 

Must be the
effect
Bev had on people…

I knew she had a hell of an effect on me when I’d fi
r
st seen her.  Walking into the club the first time, my attention had gone straight to her standing behind the bar, not the all but naked woman romancing the brass pole on stage.

I’d smiled in spite of myself just looking at the curvaceous redhead.  I mean, damn.  All that creamy soft skin, the fiery red curly hair, and all wrapped up in form fitting leather and silk.
  I was licking my lips as I moved over to the bar to get a closer look.  She was eating a chicken wing, and just watching that sweet, pouty-lipped mouth bite into those glistening wings made my heart thunder. 

I couldn’t help think of what those lips could do to me?
    

I’d turned away just as she’d noticed me: I didn’t want her to see me ogling her, at least not yet.

Play it cool,
I’d admonished myself. 
Be frosty
.

But the moment she turned and shot me with those gorgeous Irish green eyes…all I wanted to do was kneel at her feet…and then lick my way up…

I couldn’t believe how rash I’d been, to lean in and rub that smear of garlic hot wing sauce from her lip, and then to suck it off my thumb—but it was that or bounding behind the bar and licking it off in a kiss.

She’d turned a delicious shade of pink all over, and then ran off to get Teddy for me.

Teddy tried to get me to look over the paperwork for the place with him, but I already knew he’d written everything down on that stupid clipboard of his, that he’d probably already done most of the preordering for the boozed and food for the club, and he showed me the already made out payroll checks, four thick envelopes full, one for each week.

And I did have a little experience with bar management.  Not any strip clubs, but I’d managed no less than ten different bars while I was doing undercover work in vice.  I didn’t see where I’d have any problems.  And anyways, I wanted to know more about the smoking hot bartender.

Teddy had given me her name and said that “she’s indispensible.”  I’d looked at him about to
punch him in the teeth, either for cheating on my sister, or laying a hand on the woman I’d just laid claim to…at least in my head.

But the look on his face said it all.  He held her in the highest esteem, and that he’d meant that remark in a purely professional way.  But then he got a pissy look on his middle aged mug.

“If you hurt her in any way, or cause her one bit of trouble—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…You’ll tear me a new one.” I talked over him, wondering what it would feel like to have that stunning creature in my arms.

“No…” Teddy said in a flat tone.  “I’ll have your sister kill you, good and proper.”

I turned and looked at my brother-in-law with befuddlement.  Teddy was as laid back as my sister was aggressive.  Had the man just threatened me with my own sister’s wrath?

“Teresa loves her little brother,” I said smugly.  She’d defend me to her dying breath.

Teddy pursed his lips and p
icked up the phone, hitting speed dial.  “Hey honey,” he said looking me in the eye.  “
Your horn-dog of a
little brother
wants to ask Bev out on a date.  Could you tell him what will happen to him if he hurts or inconveniences her in anyway?”  He nodded and held the phone out to me.

I gulped, but didn’t for a minute think he actually had my sister on the phone.  He was bluffing.  I snatched the receiver out of his hand and triumphantly held it to my ear. 

And then I got my ass reamed by my big sister—thoroughly, viciously, and with incredibly explicit detail.  She made it very clear that the hot little bartender was the reason that her husband worked only half the usual hours of an
average
owner operator of a strip club, and that if I fucked up the status quo in any way, “I’ll kick your ass at thanksgiving, in front of the whole family.”  And though I outweighed her by nearly a hundred pounds, I knew she could do it.

My older sister was the meanest, sneakiest, dirtiest fighter I’d ever seen.  No one fought her and came away without blood loss and scaring.

I gulped a second time, said, “Yes, ma’am.” and handed the phone back to my brother-in-law.

Teddy had a satisfied smile on his face as he thanked his wife for talking to me, and told her he would be home on time.

After that I’d tried to pry more information out of Teddy about Bev, but he just clammed up.
It was infuriating, and made me want to wrestle him to the ground, but I was afraid he’d call my sister again on me. 

I really, really didn’t want that.

And the rest is history.  I tried to ask her out in the club parking lot: she stun gunned me.  She came to apologize to me in Teddy’s office and we ended up having the best sex of my freaking life on
the man’s
desk. 

Then she quit.

That was a bit of a blow to my ego.  I’d had girls trying to pick out curtains with me after one roll in the sack…and as I said, it had been the best sex I’d ever had in my entire thirty-two years of sexual conquests.  And she bolted like I had the plague and quit on the spot.

Embarrassing.  Mortifying. 

And yet the next day there I was
at her door, pounding on it like a love sick stalker.  Some old bat was threatening me with the police if I didn’t leave, but I wasn’t going anywhere until I’d talked to the sexy redhead behind door number one.

And damn it all to hell, when she did finally open the door, leaving me to
come in and shut it as she went to the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets over the sink, I couldn’t stop staring at her round, amazing ass. 

I somehow had enough control to not pants her right there and then, taking her doggy style.  What I did do was pull the bag of pretzels she’d being unsuccessfully reaching for down for her.  And then the old me kicked in for a second, keeping the pretzels out of her reach and not only pouring some on her plate, but stealing her second half a sandwich.  She’d lunged for it too, and snatching it before her was unbelievably satisfying. 

Her eyes blazed with anger as I tried to get her to come back to the club.  I hadn’t lied.  Teddy had said to offer her a raise.  He’d actually told me a fifty percent increase, but I was saving that for if my personal powers of persuasion didn’t do the trick.

They hadn’t.  And I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to get through to her, but then I’d noticed she had freckles.  Freckles!  All that creamy goodness, and she’d had those adorable freckles hidden under makeup of some kind.

I was hard as a brick just being near her, and
when she started to open that front door to throw me out I panicked.
  I threw my arm out and held the door shut.  The next thing I knew we were kissing…and groping…and god she smelled and tasted
and
felt so good.

I’d gone there to get her back to the club, but I couldn’t deny that a big part of me wanted to be doing exactly what we seemed
destined
to do.  Then she got this look on her face, and I knew, just knew that whatever she was about to ask was the make it or break it of us making love again…

Listen to me…
Making Love
…like I’m the dewy eyed
girl!

“I don’t have any condoms here,” she said, obviously lying.  It was cute, the way her cheeks reddened as she tried to.  Adorable.

Made me even harder.

I pulled three condoms out of my jeans’ pocket and showed them to her.  She suddenly got very happy looking.  Whatever the test had been, I’d passed it.  She took hold of my hand and yanked me behind her to her bedroom…

And then told me to give her a strip show…

Okay, I’m open
-
minded about sex.  I’ll try anything once…as long as there isn’t another dude involved.
  I tried a three-some (two guys and a girl) once.  No matter how hot the girl was, every time my skin came in contact with the other guy, down went my erection.  It was humiliating, and I just swore the whole thing off.

But there was that one time with Gretchen and Kimberly in high school.  That had been amazing…and exhausting.

I’m much better
with
it just being me and the woman. 

Bev had said to strip slowly—but not to try and dance.  Her loss.  I have a hell of a sexy dance.

But as I pulled off my clothes, and she had me turning around so she could check out every inch of me, I got the impression she was searching for something specific.  I wished she would just ask me about whatever it was.  I was starting to get a complex.

And then I took my pants off and turned around.  Whatever she was looking for before, she seemed to forget about, because her hands were all over my cock, squeezing and stroking me.  God I felt like I was falling off a cliff.  My body yearned for her so deeply.  I never wanted her to stop touching me.

BOOK: Big Girls Get the Blues
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