The Taming of the Bastard (4 page)

“But I’d like
to hook up. If I have to go any longer without sex my insides will
dry up. People will start mistaking me for Millie.”

I gave a mock
gasp. “Oh, haha. I’m not that bad. I’m just focussed on other
things.”

“Well, I want
to focus on a boyfriend.”

“Me too,”
Chantelle admitted.

“Let’s go to
Metro City
next week then.”

“
Eww
,
let’s not. It’s like bogan paradise in that place. I’ll think of
somewhere better. You in for a boyfriend hunt, Millie?”

“I don’t think
so. I’ll have to work.” Besides, boyfriends were known to be
trouble. And it took so much effort to train them. I didn’t have
time for such tomfoolery.

We’d been
sitting for a few minutes when a tall—clearly, not gay—guy came
striding towards us through the haze of the smoke machine. He was
handsome, with sandy blonde hair that had definitely been styled by
a hairdresser in the know. Even in the dark of the club his eyes
twinkled with mischief, as if he knew a joke he was never going to
share. Alex’s eyes flicked away from the dance floor. An audible
groan escaped her lips. “Oh God.”

“What?”

Ignoring me,
she tugged at Chantelle’s arm, jerking her head in the direction of
the male in question. “Pesky bug at six o’clock, Chan’.”

Chantelle’s
face drained of colour. She snatched up her cocktail and tossed it
down her throat. “Shit, it’s
The Slime
! What the hell’s he
doing here?”

“What? Who?” I
asked again. He looked quite cute. Why on earth was he called
The Slime
?

“Hurry!”
Chantelle screeched at the barman. “It’s not like I’ve got all
night over here.” She swivelled to face me. “No matter how much I
drink tonight, do not, I repeat, do not let me dance with that man.
I always regret it.”

“But who is
he?”

“It’s John
Jones,” Alex explained. “He’s the hottest divorce lawyer in town.
Most of his clientele are women. I don’t think I need to explain
why.” And, despite herself she gave him the once over. “He’s also
every girl’s worst nightmare. He has more arms than an octopus and
a mouth full of verbal diarrhoea.”

“And I gather
there was some sort of thing between you?” I asked Chantelle. It
was the only explanation for why she wouldn’t want to talk to
him.

“Between him,
me and the entire female population of Perth. The man is the
president of the Wandering Hands Association. His personal mission
in life is to feel up every woman in the western world. He’s a
letch with a capital L.”

“And you still
slept with him, knowing that?”

“I don’t know
how he does it but he manages to weasel his way in every time I see
him, even when I don’t want him to. It’s his eyes, I think. They
hypnotise you into thinking there’s nobody else or something. And
the sex is quite good from what I remember.”

I blinked.

“Hey no
judgement, Millie. I bet he could sleaze his way into your knickers
too.”

I eyed him
again. It’d take more than a nice set of abs and wink to get in my
pants.

The man stopped
in front of us. “Hey Alex, Chantelle, long time, no see. You’re
looking delightful, as usual.”

Chantelle
blushed. “I’m not dancing with you Johnny not even if you’ve got
VIP tickets for
Splendour In The Grass
.”

He must be bad,
I thought. Those tickets were like hen’s teeth. The line-up over
the three days of the festival had people practically selling their
souls for a ticket.

Johnny gave a
heart-melting grin. “That’s a pity, but I don’t want to dance with
you, anyway. Not tonight.”

“Then why are
you here? Have they run out of desperate women at
Metro
City
? Or are you targeting the male population now? This is a
gay bar, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“Very funny,
Chan’, I’m cut to the quick. Actually, I’m meeting my mates. One of
them suggested we meet here because it’s close to his work. It’s my
birthday today.”

“Is he gay,
too?”

I stifled a
titter.

Johnny threw a
fifty onto the bar and ordered a bottle of red. “They’re running
late,” he, continued. “Besides, how I could be gay with gorgeous
girls like you around? It would be such a waste.” He gave Chantelle
a lecherous wink.

“Do you get
that drivel out of some sort of dating self-help book?”

“It comes from
the heart
.
I simply can’t help myself when I’m with you. How
about we take this outside and you can give me a birthday I won’t
forget? You can’t keep denying you want me when it’s so painfully
obvious.”

Ewww
. I
was starting to see what they meant.

Chantelle’s
teeth clenched. Her grip tightened on her glass and she clasped her
knees together like they’d been stuck with Superglue. “I’ll give
you something you won’t forget alright, and it will involve my
handbag over your head. Now go away. You’re a bad influence and you
know it.”

“And isn’t that
why you love me?” He cocked an eyebrow.

I was positive
I saw Chantelle bare her teeth.

Johnny looked
at Alex. He looked at me. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m
John Jones.”

“Millie
McIntyre.” I held out my hand for him to shake and he kissed it. A
little tingle of delight shot up my arm. How did he do that? He was
gross and icky and yet something about him was extremely
attractive.

“Millie, given
that Chantelle is behaving like a cow, would
you
care to
dance?”

I don’t know
what possessed me when I agreed. It must have been the eyes.

Johnny led me
to a spot in the middle of the dance floor and we began to dance.
He was fun to dance with and he knew how to keep time, which was
always a bonus. He was also a little flirty, finding every
opportunity he could to sidle his body close to mine.

“You’re a great
dancer, Millie,” he commented, taking a step closer and putting his
hands on my waist. He really was quite presumptuous but I was
confident I could keep him at bay. The ‘oops-sorry’ boob graze was
not a new technique to me.

“You’re not too
bad yourself.”

Johnny’s eyes
twinkled in expectation. “Do you know Chantelle and Alex well?”

“We work
together at
The Lederhosen.
”

“Ah, the
cesspit of lust and debauchery. That Dianne’s a bit of a
character.”

That was one
way of putting it.

“You know her?”
I daren’t let my mind go there as to how.

“We’ve crossed
paths. She had her sights set on my mate but he wasn’t
interested.”

Johnny grabbed
my hand and swung me under his arm, then pulled me to his chest.
His arms snaked around me and he gazed down into my eyes. Oh, he
was good. Very good. I could see why Chantelle would give in.

“Your perfume
smells nice; reminds me of this time I had really awesome sex.” He
leant closer; his lips were almost touching my neck.

“Well, it
wasn’t with me,” I pushed him away.

He moved in
again. “Perhaps we could do something about that? You could come
back to mine.”

My eyes bulged.
My mouth fell open. Who did he think he was? “Perhaps I could
rearrange your anatomy?”

“You misjudge
me, Millie. I’m not that type of guy.”

“
Hmm
,
and I’m Little Bo Peep.”

Johnny raised
his eyebrows. “You’d look hot in one of those outfits.”

“Oh for Pete’s
sake, is sex all you can talk about? Surely, you have some other
topics of conversation?”

He stared at me
blankly.

Or maybe
not.

We started to
dance again, and while Johnny’s eyes were somewhere off in the
distance, no doubt scouring his short back-catalogue of successful
chat up lines in his head, I studied his face. He was very
attractive when his mouth was closed. The squareness of his jawline
added to the manliness of his appearance and the carefully tousled
blonde hair exuded a hint of sophistication. He must be intelligent
too, being a lawyer. Maybe it was just that he didn’t know how to
approach girls? Maybe he thought the garbage that came out of his
mouth was the type of thing women wanted to hear? I was pondering
this idea when he spoke again.

“Perhaps I
could take you to dinner some time?”

“Pardon?”

“Dinner? My
treat.” His mouth was almost in my ear. His aftershave made me
woozy.

“Oh. Um, I
don’t go out that much in the evenings.”

“Coffee
then?”

“I don’t really
do
coffee.”

Johnny looked
dejected, so I backtracked, giving him my friendliest smile.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound rude. I just don’t get much
time off work, that’s all. And I’m trying to save. You know how it
is.”

“Would you like
to come to my place for a meal, then? On your night off? It won’t
cost you a cent and I’m a good cook. Jamie Oliver’s got nothing on
me.” His hands, which had somehow left his side and were back on my
hips, slid around and began to knead my buttocks like they were two
lumps of dough. I didn’t know whether to be excited or disgusted.
Surely, this man, who’d supposedly slept with hundreds of girls
could do better than that?

“What would we
be eating?” I was aware I was playing with fire but teasing him was
fun. For a letch, he was quite clueless.

“We could start
with oysters, then a nice steak with a drop of red wine. And for
dessert… Who knows? You’d look delicious covered in whipped cream,”
he replied.

I have no idea
what signal it was I’d sent out but he lunged towards my
breast.

“What the
hell!” Furious, I flung my hands to my chest and pulled at his
pinkie, the ring on which had become wedged to the clasp at my
cleavage. Johnny was stuck to me.

“Hold still.”
He pulled.

“I’m trying.” I
tugged.

And the black
halter top which had looked so alluring in the mirror a few hours
before ripped straight to my navel, exposing both my breasts to the
entire gay population of Perth, not to mention the bar staff who,
judging by the approving whistles, were not gay.

Johnny stepped
back. He appeared awestruck. “Gosh, Millie, your breasts are even
more spectacular in person. Are they real?”

I pulled the
remnants of fabric together. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even look
at the idiot. God, this was so mortifying.

“He’s right,
darling,” came a voice from behind me. “I'd give my right ball for
breasts like those.”

“Why don’t you
go and buy yourself a pair.”

“Hey! Attitude.
I was only saying. You do have nice breasts.”

“Yes, and until
two minutes ago I also had a lovely top covering them.”

“I’d offer you
my shirt but it might set the natives off.” Johnny said,
contritely.

“You are
possibly the most up-himself man I’ve ever met.” I stomped from the
dance floor.

Johnny ran
along behind. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

*****

Back at the
bar, I scrutinised the damage to my top, hoping I could salvage it.
I could never afford to buy another, not if I wanted that house and
a full Pandora bracelet. “Can you believe the cheek of him?” I
grizzled to the girls.

“Don’t say we
didn’t warn you,” Alex said.

“He’s ruined my
top.”

“At least it
wasn’t your pants.” Chantelle delved into her massive tote. “Hang
on…” she muttered, flinging various items onto the bar, some of
which were not fit for men’s eyes, gay or straight. From the stick
like fingers of her left hand she dangled a packet of safety pins,
with which she proceeded to use to join my top back together.
“Voila!”

I gazed down at
the finished result. Vivian Westwood Chantelle was not, but the top
was pinned so that only a legal amount of flesh peeped through. I
wasn’t entirely certain it’d stand up to movement, though. I’d have
to stay sitting for the rest of the evening. “You’re a gem,
Chan’.“

“Glad to be of
service. I also bought some
Stingoze
,
Dettol
and
Band-Aids
for later if you need them.”

Bless her. She
had an entire medical kit in her handbag. Because you never knew
when.

“Does this mean
you don’t want to come over for dinner, then?”

I turned to
find Johnny standing in front of me. For some odd reason, he looked
expectant. Honestly, did he never give up?

“Not if you
were the last man left on earth, and if you ever, ever, touch me
again, so help me God, you’ll be wearing your balls as a necklace.”
I glowered at him.

Johnny paused.
The cheeky grin disappeared. I don’t know if it was the thought of
his testicles being injured or simply that something I’d said had
gotten into his thick skull, but he looked quite upset all of a
sudden.

Of course, that
could be part of his act.

“I’m sorry,
Millie. I didn’t mean to trash your top and I’ll pay for a new one.
It’s just that, you seem like a nice girl and I guess got a bit
carried away at the thought of you coming mine.” He swallowed and
looked at the floor.

Awww
.
The poor guy. He actually
was
clueless.

“If you kept
your hands to yourself, girls
would
like you. They’d
actually be drooling at your feet if you’d stop behaving like such
a knob.” I had no idea why I was telling him that, let alone
talking to him, but I guess I felt sorry for him. There was
something about his complete idiocy I could identify with.

“You think
so?”

“I know
so.”

“You’re the
first chick to ever tell me that. Usually they hit me and run
away.”

I highly
doubted that.