Pistol (6 page)

“
Ya keep lookin’ at me like that, and I’ll have nothin’ to look forward to when I bury me head between those fuckin’ long legs of yours.”

Steph snapped her jaw shut, but kept her gaze pinned on the
incredible artwork that covered his torso. Pop art, text, and abstract images filled every inch of skin. And he wore it so well. The pictures twisted and morphed as he stepped toward her. She sighed at the weight of his hands on her hips, and settled her head against his chest. His heart thundered a tempo in her ear that matched her own. The boy was as aroused as she was. Had to be anyway, because he sure as shit didn’t come off as the type to be scared.

His hands slipped about the circumference of her waist, until his fingers connected with her zipper
. He eased it down and pushed the fabric of her skirt over her hips. Pete shuddered a sigh as his eyes ran the length of her; he even stepped back for a better vantage. Blood pounded in her ears, her nerves haywire at the thought he would soon strip her bare. He licked his bottom lip, and made the ring flick from side-to-side, as he encircled her in his arms once more.

“Undo the buttons,” he ordered, husky
, and low.

Steph drew her hands between them
both; her nipples peaked at the feel of her palms brushing against his torso. Her shaky fingers made clumsy work of the buttons, but she managed—even under the intense scrutiny of his hooded gaze. His breaths were heavy, and controlled as she let the two sides of the blouse fall apart to reveal her lace-encased breasts. He bit the lip piercing into his mouth, and traced a lazy line along one cup with his finger, then the other.

Steph moved
her hands to his chest, and placed a palm over each pec. She then drew a long, level breath. Her heart raced the million dollar minute at the feel of him beneath her hands; a moment which had been a mere fantasy since she first laid eyes on his him last night.
Yeah, last night. Have you lost the plot?
She should push him away, demand he leave, but the child inside of her slammed its foot down in a tantrum. No, she wouldn’t give up her toy yet.

He drew both hands up the column of h
er neck, and stopped to cup her face in his firm grasp. Without warning, he stuck both thumbs into the corners of her mouth, and tightened his grip on her jaw. Steph moaned at the strange combination of pain, and ownership he displayed. Her tongue darted between his thumbs to feel the grasp he had inside her mouth.

“You
—” he ground out through strained tones, “—make me do stupid things.”

Did he tell
her off? Or warn her? She dropped her gaze to his mouth, and he groaned deep in the back of his throat. His thumbs slipped free of her mouth, as he simultaneously pulled her head up so that she stood on tip-toe to meet his assault. Their lips clashed, his tongue pushed past the seam of her mouth to explore the areas his thumbs had pressed into seconds before.

All the wine she had consumed over the course of the evening came back to bite her in the ass as her head swum. Steph clung onto his shoulders for balance, and he snaked an arm around her lower back to pull her closer. “You okay,
Love?”

She steadied her breath
s enough to form a singular word. “Dizzy.”

Pete stepped back from her, and pointed to the bed—his hand still cupp
ed her elbow for balance. “Lie down and take yer knickers off, woman.”

She didn’t question him. She did as she was told.

Steph lay bare from the waist down; her blouse and bra barely covered her upper half. He stood at the foot of the bed, hungry as a wolf by the way he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and grinned. If it weren’t for the fact he had her half-naked, and in the bedroom, she could have sworn he thought of a way to kill her. It was
that
kind of look.

“Jesus, you’re go
in’ to taste good.”

Her breath made a hiss as she drew it in sharply,
and fisted her hands in the bedcovers to repress the urge to roll over, to hide, and to run.

He fell to his knees
, and raised a hand slowly to the tender flesh at the apex of her thighs. The pad of his forefinger traced lazy lines around the edges of her opening; the look on his face one of worship. “So beautiful,” he muttered, as he gently plied her lower lips apart. He ran his finger the length of her moist flesh, then brought it to his mouth and savoured the taste. The appreciative moans he let out sent her wild, and made her squirm for more.

His lips quirked into a lop-sided grin, and he
tut-
ed. “So impatient, me Love.”

“I swear if you take too long I’ll finish it myself,” she joked.

He sat back on his heels, and appeared to think it over. “That could be a good idea, ya know.”

Steph raised her head, and
stared wide-eyed at him. “What?”

“
Ya want me that bad; ya won’t mind givin’ me a show.”

More blackmail, and she damn near dripped at the thought.

He settled on his haunches, and laughed as she scrambled from her bed. Steph lunged at the bottom drawer of her nightstand, and withdrew the purple wand that had kept her company many a night when Dave was AWOL.

“
Don’t spare me the details, Cutie. Pretend it’s you and yer wee friend. I’m not here.” Pete lifted his hands as he rose to his knees, and shuffled backward.

Steph stared at him
where he sat in the corner of her room, next to the laundry hamper.
Have you finally lost it? You’re going to masturbate in front of a guy you’ve known a day.
Maybe she had lost it, but he was one delicacy she didn’t want to go through life wondering ‘what if’ over. If he left, so be it. But the possibility he may finish the night by fucking her senseless if she went through with it was too much of a risk to leave to chance.

“You comfortable?” she asked,
and surprised herself at how sultry her question sounded.

“Like I’m watch
in’ me favourite show,” he purred.

Steph
crawled back on the bed, and made her way up the mattress until she sat propped against the head board. With her legs spread apart, she rubbed the wand up and down her still sensitive flesh. His heavy breaths were audible over the sound of her panting. The mere thought of her public pleasure had her core drip for stimulation.
Who are you?
Slowly, she inched the wand into her swollen folds, and breached herself with a whimper.

“Love, that looks so fuckin’ good.”

Steph closed her eyes, and replayed his rolling accent over and over in her mind. She let the sexy tones of his voice tickle her shameless joy at finally filling her need with something rigid—even if it wasn’t his. She kneaded her breast as the wand plunged in deeper with every stroke. The electricity built in her centre, and she licked her fingertips to massage her clit and quicken the climax.

She drew
her eyes open, hooded with ecstasy. Pete now knelt at the foot of the bed. “What are you doing?” she breathed.

“Waiting,” he whispered.

Her hand kept the frantic tempo with the wand as the other ran quickened circles over her flesh. In no time she felt the contractions start, and closed her eyes to ride the wave as her mouth dropped to an
‘O’
. Hands grabbed her behind the knees, and pulled her to the foot of the bed. She squealed. Steph watched in awe as Pete ripped the wand from her grasp, and plunged his tongue into her swollen flesh. He lapped, and prodded eagerly until she couldn’t hold back a second longer.

She
cried out, and never gave a second thought to if any of the neighbours would hear her. Steph pushed against his face as he continued to ply her orgasm free. With perfect timing, he pulled back on the last seconds of her release, and plunged his finger inside to tickle her G-spot. His finger repeatedly flicked free and tweaked her clit with every stroke, until the waning orgasm built for more.

Steph threw her head back, and moaned
as her entire centre exploded into fireworks. She’d never experienced such a toe-curling climax in her life. She wanted to ride the crest for a whole day, until her body was sapped of any and all traces of energy.

Pete rocked back on his heels once more as she panted for breath. “Good?” he asked with a hint of amusement.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” she breathed.

“
That’s what I want to hear.” He stood and retrieved his t-shirt. “I’ll see ya tomorrow, then.”

Her mouth worked to form words, but a pathetic squeak was the only sound she managed as he walked out
of her bedroom. The front door clicked behind him, and she flopped back onto the sheets to laugh hysterically.

Like hell she was about to run after him and flag him down, half naked, and a
wet mess to boot.

He bloody
well knew it too.

Pete ha
d fucked her good and proper. Just not the way she’d first intended.

Cass snapped her fingers in front of Steph’s face. “Earth to Steph. Anyone home?”

She looked back to her friend,
unaware until then that she’d lost herself to another daydream. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Did you hear any of what I said?”

She gave Cass a sheepish grin.

“Didn’t think so.
I asked where you wanted to go tonight?”

No hesitation. “I thought we could go
to the same place as we did Friday.”

“You want to see that Irish hottie again, don’t
you.” Cass slapped both hands on the café table, and leant into the conversation.

Steph hadn’t mentioned a single detail about the fact she’d already seen him sinc
e their last night out. Maybe her silence on the matter was due to the shame at what he coaxed her into doing? Maybe it was that she wanted to keep him her secret? “So what if I do?”

“You hussy.”

Steph poked her tongue out at Cass, and earnt a giggle in response.

“What if we see those jerks again though?” Cass’s face fell.

“I get the impression we won’t.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Instinct?” Truthfully, she had seen the look on Pete’s face as he stood at the foot of her bed, and in all honesty it had scared her a little. Because in that ruthless expression, was a hint of a man who would do whatever he wanted, to whomever he wanted.

“I guess
. Even if we do—” Cass flicked her straw. “—I reckon they’d be more put out than us.”

“True that.” She laughed. “So when do you want to meet up? And your place or mine?”

Cass pulled her phone from where her bag sat next to her on the seat. “Um, eight again? Gives you four hours to get home and eat, then meet at mine?”

“Sure.”

“Think you can do it by then?”

“Hardy-ha-ha.”

“Last day of the year, huh?” Cass twirled the nearly empty glass of juice.

“I don’t know why you get so whimsical about it,” Steph replied as she slumped into the seat. “It’s just another day.”

“Hush your mouth! It’s not ‘
just another day’
. It’s the promise of a new year, and new beginnings; a chance to leave the disappointments of the previous year behind and start anew. Re-invent yourself.”

Steph raised an eyebrow, and sat forward again. “You do realise people will still know it’s you tomorrow? Life won’t be that different?”

“Stop being such a downer, babe.” Cass frowned. “Tell you what. I dare you, Miss Routine-is-my-life, to make a resolution when you get home. And it better be a bloody good one, because I want you to tell it to me when you get to mine tonight, so I can be sure you keep it.”

Steph waved her off with a flick of the hand, and downed the last of her Latte.
“Fine. Deal.”

****

Pete racked the short glasses with his eyes glazed over, his thoughts a million miles away. He hadn’t quite expected what Derek gave him when the old guy said he had news for him. Certainly anything but that.

Janie pushed through the door from the staffroom, and eyed his slow progress. “
Got problems on your mind?”

He glared at the short woman
, and continued with his work, albeit a little faster. “Mind yer fuckin’ business, Girlie.”

“Good to see you’re your usual
delightful self,” she muttered as she took the tray of wine glasses from the washer.

He should have felt at least a little bad for being such an
arse, but there lay the problem. He didn’t. Not in the slightest. Janie annoyed the shit out of him, and try as he might, he couldn’t push past the fact that incompetent plonkers did his head in. Maybe if the girl could pour more than a couple of drinks in a row without fucking up an order things would be different. But she couldn’t. And he hated her for it.

But not as much as he hated himself for how much the pretty girl at the Peterson’s had got under his skin.
Stephanie.
The lilt of her name as he rolled it through his mind felt easy on the ear. If it weren’t for the present company, he may have said it out loud; simply to feel the way his tongue caressed the consonants. Would it feel as luscious as it had when his tongue caressed her
there
? Or better? Jesus, he better get his arse in line before the crowd poured through the doors. As it was, he’d already caught himself raise his fingers to his nose, and test if any of her musky scent remained after last night—despite the fact he’d washed his hands plenty since then.

Guilty as charged, he’d sniffed that aroma a dozen or more times on his
walk home from her unit. It was all he could do to ease the case of blue-balls he got every time he thought of doing her good and proper.
The little girl liked to show-off, huh?
Well he had uses for those kinds of talents.

Janie loaded a fresh roll of paper into the EFTPOS machine,
and then opened the register. “Uh, Boss?” He looked over to her as he stuffed the empty dish tray under the bar. “Where’s the float?”

“Fu
ck.” He scrubbed a hand over his head. No way was tonight the kind of evening he could afford to be so out of character. “It’s still in the safe. Would ya mind?”

Janie shook her head, and headed into the cash room to retrieve the till drawer. Pete glanced about the service area, acutely aware if he had missed such a normal part of his daily routine, that there may be other preparation tasks unfinished.
The bar looked in place, so he snatched a shot glass from under the lip of the counter, and poured a bourbon. Ten minutes until service, and he could already make out the dull hum of the mob who waited at the door. He knocked the fiery liquid back, and drew another shot to chase it with. The glass clinked as it slid into the wash basin, and he strode from the bar to the entrance hall where Gary stood with his best off-sider, Trent. The two of them near blocked the hallway with their hulkish frames. Pete called down to them from the beaded curtain.

“Let ‘em in, boys. Let’s get this shite over with.”

Gary nodded his agreement with a broad grin, and moved aside while Trent let the first patrons through. The rakish woman who headed the queue looked Pete over, head to toe, as she swung her hips along the hall. He noted her bite her bottom lip, and sighed. He didn’t have any interest in this shit—especially not when a certain brunette burned in his subconscious.

****

Steph looked at the huge line outside the bar, and cringed. Maybe this wasn’t such a shit-hot idea after all? Cass chatted happily with an old school-friend of hers they had come across in the wait. The two laughed over shared memories, and Steph smiled; happy Cass was happy.

She took the moment to
case out the place properly. Adjoining bars hogged the street-frontage, but without a doubt, it was the crimson doors people waited to pass through. Steph searched for a sign to say what the joint was called, and failed to find one.

Cass waved goodbye to the woman she had
spoken with, and turned back to Steph. “All good, babe?”

“Lovely,” Steph droned. “Hey, tell me. What’s this place called?”

“Atonia.”

“How come there’s no sign? How does anyone know it’s here?”

Cass smiled wickedly. “That’s the point. You have to dare to go in to find out.”

“Oh.”
Seemed a little strange to her, but whatever.

The line shuffled forward, and Gary came into sight. He looked frustrated by a couple of young guys he had separated from the rest of the crowd. “Wonder what’s going on there?” Cass commented
as she looked in the same direction.

“Probably under
age.”

Cass nodded, and they waited in relative silence until the line crested the
steps. Gary beamed when he saw ‘Miss Cassie’, and beckoned them over.

“No need for you to wait, baby girl. You should have come straight to the front.”

“I didn’t want to presume I was anything special,” Cass gushed.

He grinned. “You know you are.” He lifted the velvet rope and ushered them both in. “Have a good night, ladies.”

“What the fuck?” A male voice bellowed from behind them.

Steph turned in time with
Cass to see one of the men who had been kept aside shove Trent. Gary pinned the man to the wall with a hand to the shoulder as the young guy continued to yell. “Why do they get to skip the line? Sexist fuckers.”

“Please
, wait to the side,” Gary urged.

The guy struggled against his hold. “Fuck you, asshole. Who made you the boss of me?”

“Your fake ID did, son.” Trent gripped the arm of the young man’s friend, who looked like he was about to jump in on the action.

The first assailant spat on Gary
. Cass emitted a low ‘
ooo’
from behind her as Steph gasped in anticipation. Gary coolly wiped his face with his free hand, then lifted the guy by the fabric of his shirt, and hoisted him down the steps.

“Don’t ever try to come in here again,” he warned as Trent shoved the
man’s friend after him.

Steph nudged Cass in the side. “Let’s go get a drink, huh?”

“Hang on,” Cass replied, and held up a hand. “I want to see what he does.”

“Why?” All the dickhead would probably
try to do is swing a hit at the bouncers, and make a fool of himself.

“Because you should see Gary when he’s in action.
It’s beautiful.”

Steph stared at her buddy, amazed that she only now saw the adoration in Cass’s eyes as she watched Gary
do his job. “You’ve got the hots for the guy.”

“Fast, aren’t you?”

“How
do
you know him?”

Cass heaved a sigh, and looked over at her. “All I’ll say is that we go a long way back. And many moons ago, we shared something special—a life-changing event if you like.”

“But it’s still all
Secret Squirrel
and
Morocco Mole
?”

Cass laughed.
“Yeah. Afraid it is.”

“Well,” Steph started as she watched the young guy try his luck at boxing a titan. “I’m going to get a drink. Meet you at the bar.”

“K, babe.”

Steph continued up the hall, and pushed through to the bar area. Her eyes swung right on impulse, and she watched as Pete served a couple of groups simultaneously. He moved with effortless grace, as though his tending skills were as much a part of him as
the ability to breathe. Butterflies thwapped the inside of her gut with merciless wings while she pushed forward to take a place at the end of the counter.

The
female bartender from the other night hop-skipped down to her, and shouted over the music. “What’ll you have?”

“Bourbon,” she called back. Why? Who
knew? But more than likely she could relate it to the fact that was what
he
drank.

“How you have it?” the girl called.

“However it comes.”

The short blonde gave her
a thumbs up, then darted over to the shelves of liquor to prepare the drink. She returned a moment later with a neat glass. Steph handed over a ten, and gawked at the pathetic change she got back. How could such a small glass cost so much?

“Enjoy
in’ ya night?”

She melted at the
way he rolled the ‘r’. “Only just arrived,” she shouted across the counter.

Pete smirked, and poi
nted at the drink. “Gone off ya vodka?”

She shook her head, and threw the dark fluid back. It stung every inch of her throat, but she held back the urge to gag. He smiled as her eyes watered, and reached over the counter to wipe a drip from the corner of her mouth.
The furnace in Steph’s gut fired at the contact, and instant pheromones gave her a delusional, false confidence. She pushed up on her toes, and leant over the counter to grab the front of his uniform shirt in her fist. Steph pulled him toward her until their lips were a hairs breadth apart.