Chapter 15: Honesty
*****
There was a persistent, fucking
insistent
, throb beating in the pit of my stomach. Hiding my erection was growing painfully hard (pun intended) and my head spun from whiskey, weed and women. I leaned forward, head in my hands.
I needed to get out of here.
Having just watched Lucille finger fuck my girlfriend against the railing, looking down at me, inviting anyone to look at up them, was almost too much. Annika's face contorted in poorly supressed pleasure made my palms itchy - to strike, caress, possess, I don't know. Just itchy.
I needed to get out of here.
And then that song. That
goddamn
song that coaxes Nika out without the aid of weed wafted seductively from the house band's bassist.
Come together. Right now. Over me
.
I glanced up at the middle floor's balcony, but Annika and Lucille were no longer in sight. The ache in my gut stretched out with the bass riff and I shifted in the Chestnut leather chair, cocked a hip to get my phone.
"No phones, sir," a burly man cloaked in black said from behind me. Fuck. I tucked it back in, got up, looked over at Tyson - receiving yet another lap dance as the night's lucky bachelor - and figured he wouldn't notice my absence.
Making my way up to the second level, I spied two women - a redhead and a black woman - engaged in a very public display of affection. The dimly lit floor proffered anonymity; people could see your silhouette, see your body move, but they couldn't identify overtly distinguishable features.
I couldn't have picked Annika from a line-up in this place.
"Leaving so soon, honey?" I turned to the sulky blonde Madam, a slim cigarette holder tucked behind her ear. Her breasts were pushed up, almost spilling out of her black corset, toned arms bare. I automatically squared my shoulders - some strange instinct - and rolled them.
She looked me up and down, touched her tongue to the top of her blood red lips.
"Be careful. She's gonna dig her claws into your girl," she said, before turning to the party of three awaiting access to the exclusive lower levels. I kept walking through the public bar, outside to the cobblestoned path.
I took out my phone, texted Annika.
G:
Outside. Now.
I wandered about a third of the way up the alley, breathed in the cool, almost autumn air, clearing my head, and cloaked myself inside the bricked recess a roller-door.
I leaned forward, watching the shadows dance around Beyond the Binary's neon glow, waiting, waiting, for Annika to emerge.
In my imagination, I saw myself sitting alfresco at the Esplanade Hotel, the sun setting golden in front of me, and the ding of my phone notifying me of a new Snapchat message. Saw the slow motion of my fingertips tapping the app open, to seeing Annika splayed limp like a ragdoll over Lucille's couch and ottoman, her thighs bright pink, welted.
And Nika red and swollen, glistening under the light.
That throb behind my belly button intensified, fists clenching in response as I waited for Annika to appear.
And then suddenly, there she was. My leggy bronzed Madonna, that cool lime light refracting from the short copper dress. Saliva pooled beneath my tongue as she looked around, a lamb lost, eyes adjusting to the dark. I flattened my lips and let out a short, sharp whistle. Her head whipped up at the sound, eyes locking on mine through the darkness.
Her lips peeled back in a slow, feral smile.
My woman.
Her footsteps - long stride, confident - echoed down the alley, a firm clippety-clop atop the cobblestone. A nice contrast to the base throbbing a sinister promise from Beyond the Binary's doorway.
Her scent reached me before she did; dark patchouli woods, tinged at the edges with the tang of Nika. I swallowed hard, barely registering the lump in my throat and subconsciously thrust my hips forward.
"Grady," she whispered, body pressing to mine, fingers threading through my hair, gripping, nose running along the length of my own. My hands grasped her waist, held her still, stopping her sensory invasion before I lost all control.
Her eyes were glossy and glazed, held steady on mine in the dark, searching.
Waiting.
"Take me," she breathed, her voice holding secrets and angled her head so her warm breath flooded my ear.
My entire left side became a live electric currant and I pulled her hips to mine. She shuddered, gasped against my skin, fingernails digging into the nape of my neck.
"Take me home," and her lips closed over my earlobe, teeth scraping, warm tongue lapping.
On a growl, I spun around, the roller-door rattling against her back, She gasped, eyes widening - fear? Triumph? - and her full lips parted in shock. I thrust forward, rubbing my erection against Nika, teeth gritted and fingers digging into her hips.
Annika's head lolled back, exposing the long column of her throat, throbbing at the jugular. I ran my right hand lewdly - crudely - up her body, grasping her waist, groping her breast, before resting my hand around her throat, fingers spreading beneath her jaw, all the while rocking my hips against her.
I leaned in as I felt the animal inside thrash against his leash and spoke softly in contrast to the war raging within.
"I've been patient with you, Nika, baby," I said, voice low and deep, almost unrecognisable to my own ears. I ran my thumb up and down the lumpy centre of her throat. "Patiently waiting, watching. Watching you with other men." I thrust against her hard, relishing in the feeling of her lost breath under my fingertips.
"Watching you with another woman." Another hard thrust and her choked gasp told me I'd come into contact with her clit, so I circled my hips and wriggled against her. I smiled - felt its slow spread to my cheeks - and pulled her to me with my other hand, not caring that she'd bare the marks of my touch.
"Letting you explore," I continued, nostrils flaring at the smell of sex permeating the air, gritting my teeth as I felt her begin to push back, meeting my need. "Letting you take what you want, what you need."
I extended my tongue, traced the shape of her mouth before sucking her top lip. Her breath shuddered into my mouth and I pulled back smiling.
