Killer Queen: A Painted Faces Novel (6 page)

She laughed, and I
enjoyed the sound. This whole conversation I had been waiting to hear that
laugh, and I wasn’t disappointed. It made something stir inside me.

“Well, that's good to
hear. Drop in for tea any time,” she said.

I allowed myself one
last glance at her glorious chest region and made a final joke. I needed to
charm her.

“Damn it. Did I miss
the wet T-shirt competition
again
?” I made sure she saw exactly where my
eyes were trained. I wanted her to be aware of my interest, because I wanted to
have her naked and under me as quickly as possible. I wasn’t normally quite so
eager, but I put it down to the month-long dry spell.

Fred spoke. “Ah, you
did, I'm afraid. In Dublin we put on some great ones, too. We all gather down
by the River Liffey and dive in with our clothes on. When we climb out, the
junkies on the boardwalk give us marks out of ten.”

I gave her a slow smirk
for that one. Already I was liking her sarcastic sense of humour. “If that's
the case, then you must have gotten an eleven. Sounds like a real classy
affair, Fred. I'll make sure I don't miss the next one.”

“Come along whenever
you like. We always welcome newcomers.”

I considered asking if
she’d like to take part in a private wet T-shirt competition. Just the two of
us. Real…cosy. But I shut my mouth, because I wasn’t sure if I was being too
full-on as it was. I was already imagining what kind of sounds she might make
when I fucked her. Instead I saluted her, turned around, and continued on my
way to see the landlord.

June 28
^th
,
2012. (Part Two)

Soundtrack: “Hounds of Love” by Kate
Bush

I was ready to go the moment Nora
knocked my door that evening, eager to see Fred again. This was so unlike me,
and the fact that she could stir my interest so intensely was giving me hope,
washing away a little more of the grey.

I made a joke to Nora
as we entered her and Fred’s apartment about the landlord, and how he reminded
me of a ginger-haired Nicholas Cage. She laughed more profusely than was
warranted, and my eyes immediately pinpointed Fred as she stood by the cooker
with her back to us. My gaze wandered down that back to her shapely bottom,
appreciating the view. The food smelled incredible, and I think my attraction
to her grew by another fraction. I loved to eat. However, I was a woeful cook,
so anyone who could provide me with culinary delights instantly won points.

“Look, Fred, Nicholas
brought a bottle of wine. Wasn't that nice of him?” said Nora, and Fred glanced
casually over her shoulder at us. Her body language was wound tight, and she
seemed unimpressed. I wanted to unwind her, and I definitely knew a few ways in
which I could leave her impressed. The intensity of my need to have her was
new. I don’t mean to sound like an arse, but usually women were the ones who
chased me. For some reason, I had a feeling that with Fred I’d have to be the
one doing the chasing. And yes, I planned on pulling out all the stops.

She pursed her lips,
and a small, mischievous gleam came into her eyes. “What a treat! You're a real
prize, Viv. How much did that cost you, 8.99 down in Londis?”

Oh, she surely was a
sassy, sarcastic little thing. It riled me up, and if I were being honest,
excited me something terrible.

“Don't be rude, Fred,” Nora said to her, frowning.
“I need to pop to the loo. You two chat amongst yourselves.”

I was immediately happy to be left alone with my
most recent object of attraction, and tried to think of a way to endear myself
to her. She seemed a little defensive, and I didn’t like it. She was focused intently
on stirring a pot of simmering bolognaise, not paying me any notice. Deciding
to take the bull by the horns, I walked across the room and stepped up right
behind her, taking her by the hips and affectionately resting my head on her
shoulder.

Sometimes, forcing physical closeness with women
worked for me. Not
that
kind — I’m not completely depraved. Often,
though, women liked it when I took them in my arms for a hug or pulled them
onto my lap to sit. Unfortunately, Fred’s entire body went ramrod straight the
moment I touched her. I instantly regretted the move, but at the same time I
didn’t. Her supple hips felt good beneath my palms.

 “Smells delicious, Fred,” I told her, brazenly
giving her a squeeze. It was ridiculously inappropriate, but I wanted a
reaction out of her. Needed one. Still, she barely moved, and instead gave me a
one-word reply. “Yep.”

I leaned closer, allowing my breath to whisper
across the back of her neck. She shivered, and I think I saw her breath hitch,
which made me grow a little hard. “The wine cost twenty Euros, and I got it
from the off-licence down the road.”

“Oh, very la di da, Viv. You must be a big spender.”

 I grinned, liking how she was subtly taunting me by
continuing to call me by a woman’s name. “You like calling me Viv, do you?”

“What can I say, feminine blokes really do it for
me.”

Enjoying this interaction, I decided to up the ante
a level…or twenty. I spoke low and quick into her ear. “I can do that, if it's
what you're into. In fact, I can be whatever you want me to be. I don't think
it is, though. I think you're the kind of woman who likes a man to take the
lead.” Then I pulled her hips back into mine. The feel of her soft arse flush
against my cock did wonderful things. Wonderful things. I was having visions of
throwing her over my shoulder and carrying her into my apartment so I could
have my wicked way with her. Unfortunately, my forwardness was not taken in the
manner I had intended. Pulling swiftly out of my hold, she lifted up her
stirring spoon and pointed it at me as though it were a weapon that would keep
me at arm’s length.

“
Okay.
Listen here — back the hell up, or
I'll knee you in the balls.”

Well, now, this definitely wasn’t the reaction I’d
been aiming for. It seemed being forward wasn’t going to work with Fred. I took
a step away, allowing her some space, and dived straight into an apology.
“Sorry, Freda. I thought you were making all the passive-aggressive comments
because you were into me.”

“Yeah, well, you thought wrong. Now sit down at the
table and make nice before Nora comes back out.”

Her response made me grin. I kind of liked it when
she went all stern headmistress on me.

“Yes, sir,” I said, and obediently went to sit down
just as she requested. I didn’t stop staring at her, though. I couldn’t. And it
struck me all of a sudden that something quite unusual was taking place. I
think I actually liked this girl far more than she liked me. If she even liked
me at all. It saddened me to think that after my most recent behaviour, she
might think I was some sort of perverted creep. Regret instantly overtook me.
I’d gone about this all the wrong way.

She was looking back at me now. Still mad, but not
as mad as she’d been a minute ago. God, her eyes were gorgeous. I couldn’t help
but say, “What colour are your eyes, anyway? They look gold in certain lights.”

She shrugged and gave me a shy glance, while the
tiniest hint of a smile played on her lips.

 “Hazel, I guess.”

“They're lovely,” I told her. “You're lovely.”

I saw her instantly melt as she shifted self-consciously
on her feet. Ah, so it was wooing and romance that was needed. I would try to
remember that for future reference. She drew in a quick breath, and then her
armour was back in place.

 “Thank you for establishing my loveliness, Viv.
Now, do you like garlic? Because there is a
lot
of garlic in this
bolognaise.”

I grinned. She was changing the subject, but I could
tell she enjoyed my compliment.

“I love it.”

“Good,” she said, and then Nora was back from the
bathroom. I swear I almost choked on my laughter when Fred called to her
roommate, “You might want to crack a window in there, Nora. You were in for a
while. Number two, was it?”

It was right after she said it that I came to the
instant conclusion that she was a woman after my own heart, and even if she
didn’t want to shag me, I would go out of my way to keep her as a friend.

 “She's just fabulous, isn't she?” I said to a
rather red-faced Nora. Their interaction reminded me a little of me and Phil. I
often liked to rub him up the wrong way for my own personal enjoyment. Yes,
Fred and I were kindred. There was no denying it. And I was staring at her
again. I knew she wasn’t comfortable with the attention, but I just couldn’t
seem to help myself.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Nora replied to me tightly,
and came to sit at the table. Fred began to dish out the food. I started eating
immediately, finding myself suddenly ravenous. The bread, which I suspected was
homemade, was delicious.

“So, Nicholas, what do you do for a living?” Nora
asked.

Ah, now, answering this one would be tricky. I
didn’t think Fred would be the kind of girl to have a problem with my career
choice, yet I was anxious that she might turn out to be close-minded. I was
liking her so much that if she had a problem with my profession, I was going to
be very disappointed. So I decided to play it safe and answer in a roundabout
way.

“I'm a cabaret performer,” I said, speaking to Nora
but watching for Fred’s reaction. She seemed to be interested but trying not to
come across as eager.

“Oh, really,” said Nora. “How interesting. What
exactly does that entail?”

“It's a whole act, a bit of music, a bit of comedy,
a bit of interaction with the audience.”

“Do you sing?”

“I most certainly do,” I gave her a wink and picked
up the wine. This would be my first drop of alcohol since Berlin, but I felt my
head was in a good enough place to handle it. I knew I was only going to have a
glass or two, rather than a whole bottle…or several.

“Wine, Fred?” I asked, settling my gaze on her.

“Of course, Viv,” she said, still with the sassy
tone. When I fucked her, and I was determined to make it happen, she would not
be calling me Viv. In fact, I was working on this rather detailed fantasy of
her screaming my name while I took her up against a wall.

After I poured the wine and Fred had a taste, Nora
continued to question me. I didn’t mind. As I stated already, I’d known
countless women like Nora in my time, and they were uneasy when they didn’t
know every single thing about a person’s background, family history, blood
type, etc.

“And have you lived in Dublin long?” she asked.

Deciding to satisfy her need for information, I told
her everything I presumed she wanted to know. “Just arrived. I've visited a
couple of times, though. It's a great city. A friend of mine manages a new club
here and offered me a regular gig performing, so I jumped at the chance. I've
been travelling from country to country for years, going wherever the work took
me. But I think I'm ready to settle down somewhere, for a while, anyway.”

“Nora's in the nightclub business herself,” said
Fred, and I looked at her with interest, glad she had decided to take part in
the conversation. “She bartends. You two will be able to exchange stories about
all the drunks.”

I gave Nora a smile. “Oh, really, where do you
work?”

“Temple Bar,” she answered, and glanced up at me
from beneath her lashes, perhaps in an effort to appear demure. I felt a small
pang of guilt for not telling her that her efforts were lost on me. Fred was
the one who held my rapt interest. Still, I never liked to be rude, especially
when I could help it, so I replied, “Ah. The club I'll be performing in is on
Capel Street. For a moment there I thought it was fate, and we'd be working in the
same place.” I paused and swiftly turned my attention back to Fred. “So tell me
about you, Fred. What do you do?”

I did my best to hide my irritation when Nora
answered for her. “She's a baker. She makes cupcakes.”

So that was what I’d smelled today. Her cupcakes. I
knew baking was a time-consuming profession, so I gave her a little
conciliatory look. “Early mornings, I presume?”

She nodded, swallowed, and looked down at her plate.
God, this woman was infuriating in her ability to avoid meeting my eyes.

“Very early mornings. It's the one flaw in a perfect
occupation. I also work in the charity shop down the road. It sells all sorts
of clothes and knickknacks.”

“Two jobs — I'm impressed.” I smiled at her
affectionately.

“I'm an industrious young lady,” she answered
smartly, and my smile deepened. Slowly but surely, she was warming up to me. I
gave her my most smouldering stare when I said, “Oh, I bet you are.”

Almost of its own accord, my gaze wandered to her
ample bosom, which was hidden beneath a loose shirt. She could try to hide it
all she wanted, but I knew her body would be exactly what I craved. I’d always
been drawn to curves. As I dug into the spaghetti bolognaise, I complemented
her on her cooking while also flirting.

 “This is brilliant. You're a great cook. I haven't
had a meal this tasty in a while. Can I take you home, and you can cook all of
my food for me?”