The problem with a little trouble.
The problem with finding a little bit of trouble is it leaves you wanting more. But I was looking for trouble. Not BIG trouble. Not trouble to follow you home trouble. Not the kind that takes your life by the edges and shakes it up and changes everything around trouble. Definitely not.
No, what I wanted was the kind of danger-trouble that sends a girl's "spider sense" tingling. The kind that you can't and won't tell your mama about. The kind that sends you to confession on Sunday after your date on Saturday night. Even though you haven't been in 10 years. You know. You've all found it before. A man who can talk you right out of your panties. That makes you seriously consider braving 35 degree weather to climb into the backseat of a car parked out side the club just to have at him.
That's what I was looking for.
And I'd found it.
I weaved my way through the small tables towards the stage at the front of the club. The idea HAD been to meet up with the 20 year old boy-toy I'd been chatting up earlier. Yeah, that hadn't gone all that well. Too young and way too niave. I made my way back to my seat and dropped into it. I'd like to think I was graceful, but after the amount of alcohol I'd consumed that night let's just say I was just proud that I managed it without going over one side.
I turned my back on the stage where an obviously young, college student was doing truly awful things to "Jesse's Girl". I love Karaeoke night. With a mike and enough to drink, everyone's a rock star. I'm starting to think that things not working out with the boy-toy might have been a good thing. My girlfriend Karen is there and she shoots me a look across the table. She never even has to break off her conversation. Just a look. Are you ok?
I am now I let her know with another look.
Her friend Justin is sitting next to me. Really cute, sweet guy. Irish looks all the way. And funny! And oh my is he looking good to me now. I lean all the way in and drop a hand onto his thigh.
"Justin, honey you've got to help me" I whisper right into his ear, so I'm sure he can hear me.
"What's the matter baby?" he laughs at me. "And I told you earlier, it's higher and to the left." Justin is always laughing. He seems to be one of those people who can go through life with an amazing sense of the ridiculous at everything around him.
"That guy Barry just GRABBED me and kissed me." I hiss at him. I am laughing too now cause it really does seen ridiculous. Barry is an old, short, fat but very funny Japanese comedian that Karen and I had seen at the club several times before. And I'm not making this up either. He really had. Kissed me I mean. My fault really, he'd looked harmless to me.
"With tongue?" Justin asks. And of course he's still laughing. It's a night for laughter.
I dig my nails into his thigh lightly, "I'm not kidding Justin" I say, dropping my voice a little lower. Wondering what would happen if I moved my hand up a little higher. Would Karen be able to see? My hand inches slightly up.
"Does that mean I need to kiss you?" he asks softly and he's talking right into my ear. Chills are running down my spine at the idea, but I figure one can't exactly say, "Oh yes, please that would be perfect." So I just reply, "No just keep me occupied for a while, ok?"
"No problem" he laughs. And I can't stand it anymore...and I do something I probably shouldn't have. But lord, he and I have been doing the flirty cat/mouse dance all evening.
"Justin, I swear if you don't stop laughing at me I'm going to put my tongue in your ear. I mean it" I say. And I leave my face right there next to his cheek, watching him, wondering what he's going to do next.
He laughed.
Deliberately.
I think he must have thought I was bluffing.
My tongue darted through my lips and traced a fine line over his outer ear to his ear lobe. It was quick. It was soft. And Karen never noticed a thing. Neither did anyone else at our table. But he did stop laughing.
My heart was hammering, wondering what he'd do next when he leaned into me on the other side. His face hidden from the other's by mine. "Does that mean I can do the same thing to you?" he asked me.